Forever and a Day

by Linda Lael Miller

  “You weren’t the worst I’ve raised,” Ma said, patting Sean’s arm with a hand covered in flour. The look she gave him was pure motherly love. And then she looked thoughtfully at Anna. “Anyone Sean brings here, I’m pleased to meet.”

  The door from outside opened, and a man in a designer suit strode in and wrapped Ma Dixie in a big hug. Anna took one look at his face and knew he was related to Sean. He and Ma began talking rapidly, their Southern accents thick and dotted with words she didn’t know.

  Anna turned to check on the girls. They were helping Toby build a complicated block structure for the frog. Another boy was there, too, and Toby was pointing to him. “He can’t hear,” he explained to the twins. “He’s deaf.”

  The boy signed with rapid hands, and Toby signed back.

  The twins stared, fascinated.

  When Anna turned back to the adults, the man in the suit raised an eyebrow and held out a hand. “And who are you?” he asked, his Southern accent almost unnoticeable now.

  Sean stepped closer to Anna. “Friend of mine, staying out at the Sea Pine Cottages,” he said.

  Anna lifted her chin and extended her hand. “Anna George. I’m doing some contract work there, and my girls and I are staying in one of the cabins.”

  “Cash O’Dwyer.” The man wrapped a big hand around hers. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. Hope you’re keeping your distance from my brother.” He nodded toward Sean, softening his words with a grin.

  Sean opened his mouth as if to respond, and then settled for giving his brother a light punch on the arm.

  Anna decided she’d leave the brothers to bond in their own guy way. “Ma, is there something I can do to help?”

  “Darlin’, if you’d chop about five of those onions I’d be obliged. And you boys better get busy shucking shrimp for my shrimp and grits.” She thrust a big, fishy-smelling plastic bag toward Cash.

  “Watch the suit!” Cash stepped back, took off his suit jacket and hung it on a hook, then rolled up his sleeves.

  “Wuss.” Sean gave him another friendly punch on the arm as he took the bag from Ma. “You okay here for a bit?” he asked Anna.

  “I am,” she said, and surprisingly, it was true.

  The door opened to admit a couple bearing a baking dish, and then two young women and a little boy, carrying soda and chips. Everyone loaded their offerings onto the small kitchen table, kissed Ma and then drifted out onto the porch.

  “Those boys,” Ma said, looking fondly out onto the porch. “Sean was almost the death of me, but he’s the most loyal of all my kids.”

  “Cash seems like a different kind of person,” Anna said, chopping.

  “He sure is. If they didn’t look practically identical, you wouldn’t know they were brothers.”

  “Did you raise Cash, too?”

  “No, Cash went to a family out to Tugger Island. Rich folks. Suited him fine.” She shook her head. “That boy is aptly named. Everything he touches turns to gold.”

  “Does he come here to see Sean?”

  Ma laughed. “Those two are oil and water, but yeah. Some. Honey, everybody comes to my place on Friday nights.”

  As if to prove her point, another man walked in who looked related to Sean and Cash. He’d barely put down the watermelon he was carrying when voices called him from the porch. He gave an apologetic wave to Ma. “Be back in a sec,” he said, and went out onto the porch.

  “That’s Liam, the youngest of the three. He was raised in town and lives there still. Police officer, looking at a promotion to chief even though he’s not yet thirty.” Ma’s eyes were fond and proud. “If those boys had to get left somewhere, Safe Haven’s the right place. We all took ’em in and helped raise them, same as we’d do with anyone in need. You done with those onions?”

  Anna carried them over and watched, amazed, as Ma scooped up a big spoonful of lard and dropped it into an already-hot cast-iron skillet. The onions followed, then the raw bacon Ma had been cutting with a big cleaver. “Now, once I get these greens going—could you wash them, hon?—we’ll be ready to put the shrimp on.”

  Things got hectic then, as Cash brought in the shrimp and others started carrying dishes outside. Anna helped as best she could, but everyone seemed to have a role and a job, so once she’d delivered the washed collard greens to Ma, she stood with her back against the wall, near the twins, and just watched.

  Sean came to stand beside her. “You overwhelmed yet?”

  “Kind of.” She smiled up at him. “But in a good way.”

  “Really?” He tilted his head and smiled at her. “Ma’s the salt of the earth.”

  “I like her.”

  “Good.” He nodded thoughtfully. “If the girls like her, too...she might be willing to care for them a few days a week.”

  “Oh, I don’t think...” Anna trailed off. She couldn’t trust a stranger with her girls. Only Ma seemed to be the type of person who didn’t let anyone remain a stranger. Anna already felt like part of the family.

  And the girls seemed fascinated with the other kids, Toby’s frog and another boy’s harmonica, and when “Come and get it!” was bellowed through the property, they raced outside to the long plank table along with everyone else.

  Anna followed, and was getting ready to sit beside them when Cash called her name. “Pretty Anna,” he said, “that’s the kids’ end of the table. Come on up here to the grown-ups’ end.”

  Sean said something sharp to Cash, leading Cash to lift his hands, palms out, chuckling. Anna’s cheeks heated and she leaned down between the girls. “I can sit right across from you if you want,” she said, gesturing to the other side of the table, “or I can be up at the other end with the grown-ups.” She already knew their answer. They always, always wanted her close.

  Toby and the boy with the hearing impairment slid into chairs across from the girls.

  “You can go to the other end,” Hayley said into Anna’s ear.

  Anna stared at her. “Really? Oh, uh...great!” She turned to Hope. “Okay with you if I sit with the grown-ups?”

  Hope shrugged and nodded.

  A giant weight she’d been carrying on her shoulders lifted, leaving her almost giddy as she walked to the other end of the table.

  Her girls could grow up, grow away from her. They could be like other kids. She blinked back tears as she looked around the loud, friendly gathering. These people had made that happen.

  For so long, her focus had only been on her girls, and on how to survive. If they became more independent, she’d be overjoyed. But her own life would take a different turn. A more complicated one.

  Like, where did she sit at dinner?

  “Over here, Anna,” Cash called with a wink at Ma Dixie.

  Sean stood. “You’ll be more comfortable by me.”

  Well, that was true. Cash seemed nice but he was a stranger.

  She sat by Sean, marveling at how she felt so comfortable around him. It was worlds apart from the way she’d felt around Beau, always on edge, afraid of what he might think, how he might take a comment, what he’d do if he got angry. Sean, although he was big and tough looking, made her feel safe.

  Heat seemed to radiate from the side of his leg, of necessity tucked close to hers at the crowded table. His arm brushed hers as he lifted a pitcher to pour her tea.

  Maybe being close to him didn’t feel entirely safe.

  She drew in a breath and let it out slowly and tried to focus on the food, a mouthwatering blur of okra soup, greens and a peas-and-rice dish called hopping john. There were spicy sausages from the grill and tender shrimp on top of buttery, cheesy grits. Anna made a couple of trips down the table to help her kids pick out foods they’d like. Turned out the baked macaroni and cheese was the hands-down favorite on the kids’ end of the table, so much so that the big dish was settled there, with firm instructions to
a couple of older kids to help the little ones dish it out.

  As big brownies and slices of pecan pie were passed around, Anna reflected that two things made her comfortable. First, no one was drinking, which severely differentiated this gathering from those she’d attended with Beau and his friends. And second, no one was calling attention to the fact that her girls didn’t talk. They seemed to fit in just fine.

  After dinner, a third refreshing thing happened: the men shooed Anna and Ma Dixie out of the kitchen so that they could clean up. They even brought tall glasses of sweet tea out to the front porch, where a breeze off the bayou was cooling everything down.

  Men serving women? That was a first in Anna’s experience.

  Ma settled down with a heavy sigh, looking out into the swamp where a couple of white birds waded for fish. “Nice evening. Come summer, we’ll have to break out the window AC, but I prefer real air.”

  “It’s nice.” Anna lifted her face to feel the soft wind on it, and listened to the gentle music of frogs and crickets and lapping water.

  “Sean tells me your girls might need taking care of during the day.”

  Anna sucked in a breath. She didn’t need for him to arrange her life!

  “Now, don’t be mad at the boy. He’s a leader, always has been. He protects his own.”

  Anna tried to loosen her clenched muscles. “We’re not his own.”

  “True enough,” Ma said amicably. “All the same, he’s taken an interest in you and your girls. They’re welcome to join the menagerie if you’d like. I only have two young fosters right now. Used to have a whole bunch, but since I hit seventy-five, I’ve been cutting back.”

  “You’re seventy-five?” Anna would have guessed ten years younger, or more.

  “Yes, and I like the little kids, but these days it’s considered best to place those with parents who can adopt them if they come available. I’m too old to adopt.” She turned to Anna, her face breaking into a million wrinkles as she smiled. “The point is, though, that I’ve got room in my heart for more kids. And plenty of toys and things to do. Up to you, though.”

  “Thank you for the offer.” Anna hesitated, not wanting to offend the older woman. “My girls have some special needs.”

  “Most of mine do, too,” Ma said.

  “And they’ve seen some bad stuff in their young lives. It can make them needy.”

  “Yep. True of most foster kids. There’s a reason they’re in the system.” Ma lifted her hands, palms up. “I like working with the tough cases. Though your girls don’t seem real tough. Don’t hold a candle to Sean and his foster brother Tony, way back when.”

  Anna blew out a breath as more of her doubts were demolished. She plowed on, wanting to make sure she was completely honest with Ma. “Their father...he’s not a good man.” She hated to admit it to Ma, since it reflected so poorly on her, but honesty compelled it. “I think he’s still out West, but there have been some signs he’s around here.” That could be a deal breaker for Ma, and understandably so.

  Ma looked over at her and held out a flat hand. “Look at that. Steady as a twenty-year-old.” She grinned. “But I’m a better shot.”

  Anna’s eyes widened. “You...”

  “Honey, I live out here in the middle of nowhere with kids from all kind of messed-up families. You think I haven’t seen an angry or violent dad before?”

  Around the corner of the house, two little boys ran and flung themselves into Ma’s lap. “Me!” pleaded one.

  “No, let me in your lap!”

  She chuckled and held them both tight, then winked over at Anna. “That’s the thing, fellas. I have a big lap for a reason. There’s room for everybody.”

  Clearly, there was room for her girls, both physically and in Ma’s big heart. If they could come here for babysitting, it would allow Anna to work more and better, even to study for her GED. “I don’t know if I could afford you,” she said as her own girls appeared and pressed against her legs. “But a few days a week...”

  “We’ll work something out,” Ma said.

  And Anna held her girls as her heart alternately cramped with worry and loosened with hope. This was a good place, a loving place. But if she was starting to get attached, the girls must be, too.

  If only they could stay here in Safe Haven, put down roots. If only the girls could grow up in a safe, loving, caring community.

  If only she didn’t have this nagging worry that Beau was on their trail.

  * * *

  AFTER THEY’D HELPED Sean do the dishes, Liam and Cash started toward the side yard. Ma’s longtime friend, Pudge LeFrost, was playing banjo while his son plucked along on a lap harp and the kids caught crawdads in coffee cans.

  “Not so fast.” Sean beat his brothers to the back door and stepped in front of it, blocking their way. “Need your help with a project.”

  They glanced at each other, and Liam frowned. “Thought we’d get away without fixing something around here for once. What is it now?” His complaint was good-natured, as was Cash’s eye roll. They both loved Ma. And they knew that Pudge, at over three hundred pounds and with diabetes-related leg problems, wasn’t able to help Ma around the house a whole lot.

  “Won’t take long,” Sean reassured them. “It’s just hauling and carrying. Back bedroom is packed so full I can’t get in to fix the floor. We’re gonna load up my pickup and I’ll take it to the dump tomorrow.”

  Cash grabbed three beers from the cooler beside Pudge, slid a twenty out of his wallet and tucked it in the cooler pocket despite Pudge’s dismissive arm wave and grin, and then came back into the house. He handed a beer to each of them. They headed to the back of the low-slung house, and Liam, who was the organized sort, groaned when he saw the piles of boxes, clothes and old magazines.

  “Ma going to let you throw this stuff away?” Cash asked.

  “Uh-huh. She pulled out a few things. Says the rest of it can go.”

  “All right, then.” Liam grabbed a couple of boxes and turned toward the hallway, then paused beside a couple of fist-sized holes in the wall. “Hey, wasn’t this your room?”

  “Mine and Tony’s.” Sean hadn’t been back here much since those teenage days. “And yeah, I’ll fix the wall, too.”

  “That’d be nice,” Liam said. “You caused Ma a lot of grief.”

  Sean couldn’t deny it. “We used to sneak out,” he said, pointing to a high window. “Trick was, you had to swing along the gutter until you got to the side of the house, or you’d fall right in the swamp.”

  Once Liam had disappeared, Sean took a closer look at Cash. He was dressed better than Sean would ever have cause to be, but his face was lined, and... “Hey, you’re going gray,” he said, ruffling Cash’s hair just because he knew his brother hated it.

  Cash shoved his hand away. “One strand. I look better than you, ya hulk.” Cash grabbed a stack of magazines and headed out.

  “Don’t strain yourself,” Sean called after him, and made sure his own stack of junk was twice as large.

  As they worked, Liam talked about police business and the politics of becoming chief when city council was full of blue blood types who didn’t approve of Liam’s background. Cash talked about deals he was working on.

  On about the eighth trip, Cash wiped his forehead on his rolled-up shirtsleeve. “I feel like I’m breathing water. Don’t know how you lived here without air-conditioning.”

  “Because I wasn’t a wuss.” Sean looked out over the bayou, at the last shimmer of evening light reflected in the low river. Water lapped gently against the shore, and crickets and frogs chirped their rhythmic backup to Pudge’s banjo playing.

  “Heard you’re gonna help out at the women’s center,” Liam said.

  “Yeah.” Sean had mixed feelings about the place, but they definitely needed the kind of help he could offer. The church’s roof was leaking
, putting their office at risk.

  “It’s a good place,” Cash said unexpectedly. “It helped us.”

  “I don’t recall it helping Mom.” Sean knelt and picked up newspapers and old plastic fast-food toys that had decorated the floor, probably for years.

  “Dude.” Liam leaned back against the doorjamb and spread his hands. “Nobody could’ve helped Mom.”

  Sean tried to focus on a big box labeled Baby Clothes, opening and looking inside to make sure it could be tossed. But all he could think about was that no matter what anyone said, he should have helped their mother. He’d been the oldest. He’d seen their father push her into his old truck and drive away.

  That had been the end of it. They’d never seen her again. And most of the time, knowing how dedicated she’d been as a mom, how much she’d loved them, he figured she hadn’t made it. Most of the time, he believed that if she’d been alive, she’d have found a way to come back and get them.

  Most of the time, he felt guilty. If only he’d gone after his dad instead of gathering his brothers, she might have survived. They could have stayed a family.

  In his angry moments, he thought maybe she’d dumped them on purpose. Why else hadn’t she screamed her lungs out when their father had dragged her toward his truck?

  “Hey, check this out.” Liam had opened a box and was pulling out an old backpack, camo, with Sean O’Dwyer written on the back in permanent marker, their mother’s neat hand. “Here’s that book you were always reading.”

  Rogues of War. Seeing it twisted his heart, because he’d been reading it on the day when their father had taken their mother.

  And afterward, when the dark despair had come on, when even the good people of Safe Haven couldn’t love away his pain, he’d buried himself in that book, read it again and again. It seemed to bring his mother closer, since she’d read it, too, and they’d talked about it.

  Probably, that book and others in the series were why he’d joined up as soon as he was old enough. That, and some survival instinct that warned him if he didn’t change something about his life, get some discipline, he’d end up dead or in prison.