by Robyn Carr
He heard the sound of a key in the lock at the front door. Drew was back already? He’d only been gone about two hours. He sat up. But the door didn’t open. Then there came a pounding and he felt a sick feeling grow in his gut.
“Let me in!” Pamela shouted from the other side of the door.
He took a deep breath. He sighed. He lumbered up off the couch. He slowly opened the door. “It would be better if you called ahead,” he said. “Is there something you need?”
There was a grim set to her mouth but, oh, Pamela was so beautiful. She was constructed to be, of course. She wore her streaked, honey-colored hair long. She bought a chin years ago, for starters. Then boobs. Lipo. Tummy tuck. Botox. Her lips were a little puffier—collagen injections, he had learned. Her nails were a classy length and she had an awful lot of eyelashes. She was tanned and buff. Pamela worked very hard on that face and body.
Beau thought she did so because she had a troubled soul. He thought she’d been much prettier before adding and subtracting so much.
“I need my house back,” she said.
“Well, unfortunately, it’s not your house.”
“You always said it was our house and I lived in it for thirteen years, so move over, darling.”
He blocked the way. “It will be part of the community property, I understand that, even though it was my house for six years before we met and it’s still in my name. And I’m sorry, but since our divorce is pending, since you’ve been served divorce papers, we can’t live together. It just wouldn’t work. And on advice of counsel, I’m not leaving.”
She looked shocked. “You never put the house in my name, too?”
“At first I just didn’t because it made no difference—neither of us would have singular properties. It’s a 50/50 state and that’s the way it is because there’s no prenup. But I brought this house to the marriage and you left,” Beau said.
“Well, I’m coming home,” she said.
He leaned slightly, spotting the suitcases behind her. Two large and one carry-on size. “I’m sorry, Pam. No. You left. You had a flat in the city. And I told you several times, I’m done with this arrangement.”
“And where am I supposed to go?”
“Back to your city flat, I suppose.”
“I let it go,” she said.
“Before making arrangements for your next residence?”
“I don’t have to make arrangements to come home to my house!”
“Not your house, Pamela. It’s where I live, it will be community property.” He glanced over her shoulder to the newish BMW in the drive. “Just as your car will be community property. And your other assets.”
“My car will not be community property!” she said, sneering. She tried to push her way in and he blocked her. “God damn you, let me in. You can go to a hotel. Or your mother’s. Or go to the goddamn rectory for all I care.”
“Mom,” Drew said from behind her. “Stop it.”
Beau hadn’t seen him arrive. Since Pamela was parked in the drive, he’d parked in front of the house next door and had silently approached. “Drew!” she said. “Sweetheart, tell Beau this is my house and I’m coming home!”
“Pam, don’t put Drew in the middle of this,” Beau said. “It’s not the boys’ problem, it’s ours. Let him be.”
“But I want to come home and live with my son,” she said.
“I’ll take you down to the restaurant and we can have a cup of coffee or ice cream or something, talk things over, then you have to leave,” Drew said. “This is Beau’s house and he’s been really fair.”
“I don’t want an ice cream,” she snarled. “I want this house! How can you take his side? What’s he to you? He’s not your father. I had to beg him to take me on with two little boys but he was never your father. He can’t—”
Drew took a step toward her. “He wanted to adopt us, me and Michael, but our dads wouldn’t give permission. My ‘dad’ didn’t even come to my graduation.” He shook his head. “Mom, Beau is right. You left. I asked you not to leave—I had a feeling it was going to be the last time. You can’t just keep changing your mind.”
“Drew, you don’t have to—” Beau was going to say, Fight my battles, but he was cut off.
“Don’t get sucked into pity for poor Beau,” she said. “You have no idea how difficult and complicated marriage can be!”
Drew chuckled, but without humor. “Don’t I? I’ve been watching you and Beau since I was just a little kid and, Mom, I think everything in your life is complicated and difficult. I’m sorry it is. But this isn’t your house anymore and I’m not going to be quiet while you beat up on Beau. Beau’s been a good dad. And you don’t want to live with me. If you wanted to live with me, you wouldn’t have left.”
“Seriously? You’re taking his side? Over your own mother? This...this...stepfather who doesn’t care about his own wife?”
“Pam, don’t...”
“Yeah, I am,” Drew said. “Do you need me to help you get those bags back in the car?”
“Where do you expect me to go, since I’m denied my home?”
Drew stiffened and put his hands in his pockets. “I know you have somewhere to go. You probably have a lot of places you can go. But you gotta stop being so mean and so unfair. Beau was always good to us, good to all of us. I love you, Mom, but sometimes I really don’t like you.”
“Drew!” she gasped. “How can you say that? To me?”
“Michael might let you sleep on his couch,” Drew said.
“You are so ungrateful, Drew,” she said, turning on him now. “After all I’ve done for you, you side with the man who’s throwing me out in the street? He was a lousy husband, a useless stepfather, an unfaithful—”
“Come on, Mom,” Drew said, taking her arm. “Let me help you get these bags back in your car. You can scream at me for a while if it makes you feel better. Enough of this drama out on the street.”
Beau watched as Drew pulled Pamela to her car, watched as she shook him off and stomped her foot. But he didn’t watch long because he knew what was next. She would strike him and then cry and while he felt an overwhelming desire to protect Drew, Drew was a man now. Drew knew his mother and if Beau was exiting this marriage, he couldn’t be the buffer between Drew and his mother anymore.
He stood just inside the door for a moment, listening. He could not make out the words but clearly Pam was arguing with him. Loudly.
Beau sat on the sofa and hoped Drew would not have to endure too much of that but it was ten minutes before the door opened. How could anyone put their child in the middle of a disintegrating marriage? Even an eighteen-year-old child? It was unconscionable.
“Drew, I’m really sorry that happened. The last thing I want is for this to be hard on you.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
“I think the craziness will die down before too long. I’m really proud of you, the way you handled yourself. You were calm and respectful and I know it must have been hard. Come on, we can—”
“I gotta be alone right now, if that’s okay. I don’t feel so good.”
“I understand,” Beau said. He sat back down on the couch.
But after a few minutes, he stood up again. Drew had acted so much the way Beau would, exactly the way Beau had taught him. Face your mother’s anger with calm, don’t lose your cool, it’s her temper not yours, the storm will pass. And now he was acting as Beau did.
Beau knocked on Drew’s door. The voice inviting him in was small and hurt. Drew sat cross-legged on the bed and his eyes were a little red.
Beau smiled at him. “You couldn’t be my son any more if we shared DNA,” he said to Drew. “You got through the whole ugly business with your dignity and now you’re sealed off, inside yourself, suffering. Just like I always have. But let’s not do that, Drew. Let’s talk it out. It’ll pass faster
that way.”
“I’m not sure how,” Drew said miserably.
“Your mom has troubles,” Beau said. “I’m not sure what kind of troubles and if I could help her with it, I would. I’m sure you would, if you could. But you can’t. She’s mercurial and sometimes selfish. She’s probably going to be a handful forever. She attacks when what she really wants is to surrender and just be loved. Understanding that won’t help her, unfortunately. She’s got to help herself. And she never will until we stop picking up the pieces and giving in.”
“I hate when she’s mad,” Drew said. “Life would be so much better if she could just be happy. But she just can’t be happy. At least not for long.”
“Not for lack of trying,” Beau said. He sat down on the bed. “The hardest part, but the most important part, we have to remember we didn’t do anything to cause her pain or unhappiness. We have to try to let it be her problem.”
“Easier said than done,” Drew said.
“Tell me about it,” Beau agreed.
CHAPTER TEN
The rest of the week while Cassie visited Lauren was like a gift. Lauren thought it might be the last time her daughter came home like this, all by herself. She and Jeremy were now a couple. They might wait to get married but they would probably take their vacations and visit their friends and family as a pair from now on.
By the time Cassie had been in town for a couple of days, Lauren’s lip was less swollen and she was mostly able to conceal her bruises with makeup and dark glasses. Still, when they walked down the main street to grab lunch and do a little shopping, the waitress in the pub noticed and said, “Oh my word, sweetheart.” She leaned close and squinted.
Lauren just smiled and whispered, “Minor cosmetic surgery.”
“Well, darling, you didn’t need it!”
“That’s very nice, thank you,” she said. Then she smiled, a slightly lopsided smile.
Lacey joined them for lunch one day and they managed not to discuss the divorce, nor did the girls air their differences. But it wasn’t warm and loving. It was merely cordial.
Lauren and Cassie enjoyed the business district of Alameda together in the afternoons, checking out the shops, stopping at Stohl’s grocery for a few items for dinner, getting an ice cream cone for their walk home, then sitting out on the porch with glasses of wine in the late afternoon sun. They sat on wooden folding chairs that Lauren bought to accompany her kitchen dinette set.
“You need better chairs,” Cassie said. “Like maybe rocking chairs.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lauren said.
They waved at strangers who passed by; everyone in Alameda got out and about on sunny days. Neighbors jogged, pushed strollers, pulled kiddie wagons behind their bikes or just walked. The parking spaces along the main street in front of the shops and restaurants were always full, but Lauren couldn’t imagine ever taking her car four or five blocks for a glass of wine or burger, unless it was a driving rain.
“I have loved having you here for a visit,” she told Cassie. “The reason you came so suddenly and expensively, not so much. But just having you here? It’s wonderful. I’m sorry about your sister.”
“She’ll probably come around,” Cassie said. “When she figures out all this little mood is going to get her is Dad, she’ll probably rethink the whole thing.”
“She has a sweet side,” Lauren argued.
“As long as it suits her purposes,” Cassie said. “I wish we were close, but I’m not compromising with her anymore. She stepped over the line.”
“It worries me to think she might not know the difference between squabbling and abuse,” Lauren said. “Beth never approved of my marriage but she stuck by me. Your sister will need you someday. And there’s something you should know—I was more like Lacey than like you. I had a feeling I might be getting in over my head with your father, but I pushed it aside. He was so powerful, capable and rich. He’s helped Beth a lot. He offered to help my mother but she refused him.” She laughed at the memory. “Honey said, ‘How very sweet, Brad. No thank you.’ When he blustered she added, ‘Just give it to a charity.’ He was furious. But you know your father can be generous and charming when he wants to be.”
“I loved those times he was happy,” Cassie said. “Christmas parties, birthday parties, summer barbecues. I didn’t trust them, but I liked them. It’s just that all the stress leading up to the party was awful and after all the company left, he so often took a turn for the worse.”
“When something didn’t go the way he expected,” Lauren said.
“I really don’t want to leave you,” Cassie said.
“Well, you’re going to,” she said with a laugh. “I have to go to work on Monday and you have to go home. I can’t have you hanging around watching over me. It’s time for both of us to get on with our lives.”
“It didn’t seem like the East Coast was so far away before...”
“I’m going to be fine and you have Jeremy and law school to think about. Just promise me one thing, Cassie. Promise me that if things don’t feel right with Jeremy, you won’t spend your entire life trying to change them. Take the shades off, Cassie,” she said. “See honestly. Don’t lie to yourself. And please—don’t be afraid. I was too afraid of what he might do to us.”
“I’m not the one with that problem,” she said. “I’m thinking about putting off law school for a year,” Cassie said. “I’d like to come back here, work, reapply, live closer. I talked to Jeremy. He understands. He wouldn’t mind getting back to the West Coast, though he’s starting to think of Boston as an adventure, but—”
“No!” Lauren said. “No, no, no! We’re going to move forward, you and me! I’m going to work and get divorced and this winter I’ll fix up this house. After the divorce is settled, I might buy it. Next spring I’ll plant a garden. And you’re going to get the first year of law school under your belt. We’ll Skype. We’ll get this big transition handled—my first year on my own, your first year with Jeremy and with law school. Maybe we’ll live closer down the road but for now? We’re going to move ahead with our plans.”
“Who will help you, Mama? If things get bad again? If he tries to hurt you? Who will help you?”
“I have assembled a good team,” Lauren said. “A good lawyer, my sister, my brother-in-law, a few friends... There’s a record and a restraining order. The sale of Honey’s house—that money is tucked away and keeping me afloat. I hope that after it’s over, I can help you with your expenses. We’re going to be fine, you and me. We’re going to—”
A truck was driving by and it slowed, catching Lauren’s attention. The driver backed up and stopped in front of the house. He got out and looked over the hood. He grinned. “Lauren! How’s it going?”
She stood from her chair. “Beau,” she called, waving. “Come and meet my daughter.”
He smiled and reached into his truck to stop the engine. He came up the walk to the porch and stuck out a hand. “How do you do,” he said. “I’m Beau Magellan. We’re neighbors.”
“Cassie Delaney,” she said.
“Beau, will you have a glass of wine with us?” Lauren asked.
“Aw, sorry, I don’t have that much time. I have groceries in the truck and a kid at home I promised to feed.” He looked at Cassie. “You live around here or just visiting, Cassie?”
“I’m just visiting. I live in Massachusetts now—going to school. I’m from around here, though.”
“I guess I can’t really take a rain check, then,” Beau said. “Unless you’re staying a long time.”
“Just a couple more days,” she said. “But I love the pace of this town—walk downtown, sit on the porch, take it easy. This is such a nice little town.”
“It’s full of movers and shakers. Lots of people want to raise their children here but take the ferry or BART into the city to work. I’ve been here quite a while,�
�� he said. “I bought an old fixer-upper on a street that seemed to be dominated by them. Now we have one of the best-looking streets in town.”
“Did you fix it yourself?” Cassie asked.
“I did, with a little help from family and friends. It took years. I’m a landscape architect by trade.” He grinned handsomely. “The yard is beautiful.” He glanced at his watch. “I’d love to stay. I’m sure you’ll visit again sometime, Cassie. Lauren, if you need anything, just call or text—I’m just around the corner.” He stuck out his hand. “Really nice meeting you, Cassie.”
“You, too,” she said.
They didn’t speak as Beau jogged to his truck, jumped in and gave a brief wave as he drove off. Then Cassie looked at Lauren and said, “Wow.”
“Huh?” Lauren asked.
“He’s very handsome,” Cassie said. “How well do you know him?”
“I haven’t known him that long,” she said. “I’m still getting to know him. I bought him dinner at the pub where we had lunch as thanks for putting up shelves. And we spent the whole time talking about our pending divorces. He’s been separated since months before we met. He was working in the gardens at Divine Redeemer—that’s where I met him. I thought he was a groundskeeper—those gardens are so beautiful. The priest there is his childhood friend.” She paused. “And he’s the neighbor who followed me to the hospital and brought me home the night your father...”
“He’s the one! You must see that he likes you,” Cassie said.
“I hope so,” she said. “I like him. But if you think I’m going to rush into another dysfunctional relationship, you are completely mistaken. I’m thinking about freedom and some independence, Cassie. Not another man.”