by Sherry Lewis
“You’re awake?”
Her voice was harsh and cold, but Beau tried not to respond in kind. “I am.”
“I realize it’s a bit early,” she said, “but I didn’t want to miss you. I looked for you at the parade.”
“We were there.”
“Not in our usual place or at the Chicken Inn afterward.”
He resisted the urge to explain and said only, “You’re right. Is that why you’re calling so early?”
“Not exactly. I heard something last night that upset me so much I barely slept a wink.”
Still groggy, Beau sat on the edge of his bed. “Let me guess—this thing you heard has something to do with me?”
“Eve called after the parade. You know what she told me.”
Beau stood, stretched and started toward the stairs. He kept his voice low so he wouldn’t wake the kids. “I have a pretty good idea what she told you, but Eve needs to mind her own business.”
“She’s concerned.”
“She’s trying to make trouble.”
“That’s not true. She sees smoke and she’s worried about fire.”
Beau wasn’t wide enough awake for this argument. “It’s nothing. She’s overreacting.”
“Is she? You’re over there with a woman who isn’t your wife. Parading all over town with her—and right in front of the kids. What on earth are you thinking? What’s gotten into you, letting some other woman stay in my daughter’s house with my grandchildren under the same roof?”
The fog of sleep evaporated by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, and a slow anger began to burn. He pulled a fresh filter from the cupboard and scooped coffee from the can, hoping the everyday actions would help him hang on to his self-control. “There are a couple of things wrong with your argument, Doris. This isn’t your daughter’s house, and Molly isn’t in the house, she’s staying in the cabin. It’s all perfectly safe and harmless, and the kids aren’t being exposed to anything inappropriate.”
Doris snorted in disbelief. “Harmless? Please, Beau, you’re not exactly a naive young boy. You know how these things work. You’re there with this woman, making a spectacle of yourself and completely disregarding the children.”
“The kids,” he interrupted sharply, “are the only thing I think about. I would never do anything to hurt them.”
“So you say, but what’s going to happen when their mother comes back?”
“If you’re concerned about the kids, I suggest you talk to Heather. She’s the one who’s completely disregarded them, not me.”
“We’re not talking about Heather. We’re talking about you. Even if what you say is true, you’re only confusing those poor children needlessly.”
Why was the woman so determined to settle the blame for this mess on his shoulders? He filled the coffee-machine reservoir with water and flipped the switch. “Heather isn’t coming back, Doris. It’s time you accepted that.”
“Of course she is. You’ve known her all your life. You know what she’s like. You know what she wants. She’s going through a phase, that’s all.”
“Well, it’s one long phase.”
“One of these days she’s going to wake up and realize what she’s lost, and then she’ll be back. What will she think if you’ve been dating other women—setting them up in the cabin—while she’s gone?”
Beau leaned on the counter and looked outside at the rising sun, the glory of autumn, the mountains uncluttered by human mistakes and heartbreak, and he wondered how long he had to drag this heartache around with him. “So it’s a phase if Heather finds someone new, but it’s bad parenting if I do?”
“Don’t be smart.”
He closed his eyes in frustration. He didn’t want to throw up walls between them, but he couldn’t keep letting Doris back him into a corner. “Even if you’re right and she does come back, it’s over between us. I can forgive her if this really is something she can’t change. But if it’s a phase, if this is a choice she made, I’m not sure I can.”
“You’re trying to divert me,” Doris snapped. “The point is you and that woman.”
“She’s a friend. I’m not ‘setting her up’ in the cabin, but I’m enjoying her company. And I know you won’t like hearing this, but who I date and what I do isn’t any concern of yours.”
“I don’t believe this! You’ve been in love with Heather since you were a boy.”
“Things change.”
“Love doesn’t just die like that, Beau. After all the years you’ve been together?”
“She left us, Doris. And you know why she left. She doesn’t want me and apparently she doesn’t want the kids, either. Love does die, and so does trust.”
“You make her sound like a horrible person. Don’t you understand that she’s just confused?”
“If that’s the case, then I’m sorry for her, but it doesn’t change the way I feel.”
“The two of you married so young, and then losing the baby… I don’t think she ever recovered from that. All her hopes and dreams were gone. All the things she once wanted to do.”
He didn’t know how to answer Doris’s desperate need to clear Heather of responsibility. Apparently she couldn’t release herself of blame until she’d lifted the burden from her daughter. “My dreams didn’t survive, either,” he reminded her, “but I didn’t take off and leave my wife and kids in the lurch.”
“You’re stronger than she is,” Doris wailed. “You always were. You’re the rock in the family, I won’t deny that. But you and Heather are family, and you’ll always be family. You need to be there for her when she comes to her senses.”
Beau sank into a chair and chose his next words carefully. “Listen to me, Doris. I want you to really hear me this time. I know she’s your daughter and you love her, but what we had died a long time ago. I don’t love her anymore, and you’re going to have to accept that it’s over between us. Heather and I will never be together again, and I don’t want you filling the kids’ heads with the idea that we might be. It’s not going to happen and I’m not going to discuss it with you again. Heather will get on with her life and I’ll get on with mine, but we won’t do it together.”
“Beau—”
“No, Doris. I want Heather to be part of the kids’ lives, but only if she can give them security and stability. Those are two commodities that have been in short supply around here for the past few years. But frankly, I’m not sure she’s capable of providing those things, and until I’m convinced, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her away from the kids.”
“She’s a good mother.”
“Not right now she’s not.” He kneaded his forehead where a dull ache was forming above his eyes. “I meant what I said before. I’m not going to keep rehashing this. I’m sorry you’re upset, but this conversation is pointless and I’m hanging up.”
He disconnected and tossed the phone onto the table. Lowering his head into his hands, he tried to put the call out of his mind. A soft noise behind him brought his head back up, and he turned to find Brianne standing in the kitchen door, feet bare and hair still tousled from sleep.
Nicky stood just behind her, his eyes wide with shock. He said something Beau couldn’t hear, and Brianne rounded on him. “Don’t you get it, Nicky? He doesn’t love Mom anymore, and he doesn’t want her to come back.”
She jerked her sweatshirt from its hook by the door before Beau could get up, then slipped her feet into an old pair of shoes and raced outside.
The door banged shut, but Beau took off after her. He threw it open again and shouted for her to come back, but she was halfway across the lawn and it was clear she had no intention of listening to him.
“Dad?”
Nicky’s trembling voice stopped him in his tracks. He whirled back to find the boy leaning against the wall. The look of misery and disbelief on his face twisted Beau’s gut. He didn’t know whether to follow Brianne or stay and comfort Nicky. Both kids needed him, but he’d been giving Brianne more than
her share of attention lately, and he had to trust that she’d do what she’d done a hundred times before when he and Heather fought. She’d head into the field and run off steam, but she’d be fine. Right now, the stricken look on Nicky’s face worried him a whole lot more than Brianne’s volatile anger.
He hunkered down in front of his son and touched the boy’s shoulder gently. “Nicky? Are you okay?”
The boy’s blue eyes lifted to meet his slowly, and the fear in them made Beau feel about two inches high. “Is it true, Daddy? Do you hate Mom?”
“I don’t hate her, son.” And he didn’t when he was thinking clearly. “But Mom and I aren’t going to live together again.”
“Because you hate her?”
“No. No, son. Because Mom and I don’t love each other anymore. Sometimes that happens with parents.” He picked up his little boy, straightened to his full height and winked in a lame effort to lighten the moment. “But we’re doing okay on our own, aren’t we? I got some laundry done yesterday, so you’ll even have matching socks today.”
Nicky smiled slightly, but his eyes still looked sad. “It’s okay, Dad. I don’t mind if my socks don’t match.”
“Well, I appreciate that, but every kid deserves to wear matching socks to school.”
“Okay. But Brianne says I shouldn’t bug you. She says maybe you’ll stop loving us.”
Beau felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. “She said what?”
“She says we were a pain for Mom and that’s why she stopped loving us. She said maybe if we’re a pain to you, maybe you’ll stop loving us, too.”
A searing pain tore through Beau’s heart. If that’s what Brianne thought, why did she constantly push his buttons? To see how much she could get away with? How much he’d take before he broke? He felt broken now. “I could never stop loving either of you,” he assured Nicky. “You’re my kids, made right from a piece of my heart.”
“But you stopped loving Mom.”
Beau could have kicked himself for ever saying that aloud. “Well, now, that’s not entirely true,” he backtracked. “I still love Mom, just in a different way than I used to.” He kissed his son’s cheek soundly and tried to smile. “How could I stop loving the woman who gave me you and Brianne? You two are the very best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Some of the clouds cleared from Nicky’s eyes, but he still wore a worried frown. “Then why did Mom stop loving us?”
“She didn’t stop,” Beau said with a heartiness he didn’t feel. “She loves you as much as I do. You’re the greatest kids in the world. How could anyone not love you?”
“But she left.”
“Yes, she did.” Still carrying Nicky, Beau started into the kitchen. He wanted to buy a few seconds to think, but the only thoughts he could put together were how small his young son was and how much he wanted to wring Heather’s neck for making their children doubt their worth, even for a second.
After a quick glance out the window for Brianne, he settled Nicky at the table and poured him a glass of orange juice and a coffee for himself. “I want you to listen to me, Nicky,” he said as he carried both to the table. “Your mother did not leave here because she doesn’t love you and Brianne. She left because she has some things to work out. You know how Brianne runs outside when she gets mad and walks around the field until she stops being angry with me?”
Nicky nodded solemnly.
“Well, Mom’s doing the same thing.”
There was a moment’s silence while Nicky took a swallow of juice and wiped his mouth with his pajama sleeve. “Is Mom mad at you, too?” he asked at last.
Beau smiled sadly. “I don’t know, son. I think she’s just confused. But she loves you. And one of these days she’ll come back to see you. I guarantee it.”
Nicky grinned as if Beau’s word was good enough for him. After another drink of juice, he began to hum softly. But Beau had a sick feeling that he’d just lied to his son. He only hoped Nicky would eventually forgive him for it.
MOLLY WAS ON PINS and needles the next afternoon as she sat in the gleaming kitchen that belonged to Jennifer’s mother. She’d spent many hours here as a kid, and even more as a teenager. From this very chair, she’d giggled with Jennifer and Elaine over boys and downed more tortilla chips and sodas than anybody should ever consume. Today she felt an odd mixture of strangeness and familiarity as she watched Jennifer and her mother working together.
Like everyone else, April Dilello had aged since Molly had seen her last. Her hair had once been a rich shade of auburn; now it was a shade of red that could only have come from a bottle, and even that color had faded. But her eyes were still filled with the same caring that had drawn the girls to her kitchen in the first place. And she could still carry on two conversations at once.
“I just can’t get over how wonderful it is to see you again, Molly. You look… No, Jennifer, the other box. Lemon cookies will be better, don’t you think? You really do look beautiful, Molly. Stunning, in fact.” She brushed her hands on the plaid apron she wore and wagged a hand toward a door near the refrigerator. “Napkins are in the pantry. Will you grab them, dear?”
Molly was halfway to her feet when April gasped and motioned for her to sit again. “You stay put, Molly. Jennifer will get them. Tea will be ready in a minute, and I know you’re eager to get down to business. I understand you’re interested in your mother’s jewelry.”
Sinking back into her chair, Molly nodded. “Yes, I am. Jen says you still have a few of the pieces she made.”
“Not just a few. I still have everything I ever bought from Ruby. I wouldn’t dream of parting with them. They’re the nicest jewelry I own.”
“And you don’t mind if I look at them?”
“Mind? Oh, no.” April patted Molly’s shoulder and turned away with a wave toward the stove. “Just keep an eye on that kettle and I’ll be back in a minute.”
“I’d be glad to help,” Molly called as she disappeared through the door.
April laughed and stuck her head back into the kitchen. “Not on your life. My bedroom is a disaster area, and it’ll destroy my reputation if you see it.”
She disappeared again and Molly shared a grin with Jennifer. “She hasn’t changed a bit, has she?”
“Not much.” Jennifer finished arranging cookies on a plate, took two more from the box and handed one to Molly as she joined her at the table. “So how’s it going over at Beau’s? Anything fun and exciting to report?”
Memories of those knock-your-socks-off kisses swept through her mind, but Molly laughed them away. “Yeah,” she said. “We were up half the night making out.”
Jennifer stuck out her tongue and broke off a piece of cookie. “Nothing, huh? Figures. You have a golden opportunity and you’re throwing it away.”
“I’m not here for Beau,” Molly reminded her. “I’m here to find out about my mom. I keep telling myself that Mrs. Duncan had a good reason for standing me up yesterday, but I know she’s hiding something.”
Jennifer slid down on her tailbone, just as she used to do when she was a teenager. “I wouldn’t worry about it. It’s probably because you’ve showed up suddenly after such a long time. Nobody expected you, and in a town like Serenity, people tend to circle the wagons to protect each other.”
“But I’m from Serenity, too,” Molly said. “And who are they protecting? My mother? From me?”
Her friend tried to look reassuring. “Don’t read too much into it. It’s just the idea of answering questions about a friend that gets them nervous. They’ll soon think it through and change their minds. Meanwhile, you should relax. Try to have a good time.” She leaned close and waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Now, tell me what’s really going on with you and Beau.”
The abrupt change of subject made Molly laugh. But after what she’d learned last night, she didn’t want to stir up gossip Beau would have to deal with once she’d left. She shrugged and glanced at the kettle on the stove. “There’s no
thing going on with me and Beau. He offered me a place to stay because I didn’t think about making reservations and the motel was full.”
“Oh. Right.” Jennifer leaned back in her chair again and wagged a hand between them. “Beau’s always inviting women to stay in his cabin. He has a new one there at least once a week. Come on, Moll. You can tell me.”
Friendship pulled at her, but the wounded expression on Beau’s face was stronger. “There’s nothing to tell. Honest.”
“The two of you went to the parade together. You went to the committee meeting with him. You’ve been seen all over town together, and you’re staying in his cabin.”
“All of which means absolutely nothing.”
Jennifer popped another piece of cookie into her mouth. “Everybody was blown away when Heather left, but nobody expected Beau to stay single as long as he has. I swear you’re the first woman he’s looked at in all this time—and he is looking. Everyone’s noticed.”
Molly’s cheeks burned, but the rush of pleasure inside her more than made up for it. “He’s only been single since July,” she pointed out. “That’s not very long.”
“But Heather’s been gone for nearly a year.”
“I know that, but…” Molly shook her head. “Beau and I are friends. That’s all.”
Tucking a leg beneath her, Jennifer settled in more comfortably, as if she still expected a story. “Everyone knows how much you liked him in high school—” She broke off as if she realized she’d said the wrong thing, then grinned sheepishly. “At least, you know, the old gang knows. Not everyone.”
Molly laughed. “Sorry to disappoint, but that’s as exciting as it gets.”
“Okay. But there’s nothing that says you can’t make it more exciting, right?”
Molly stared at her friend in amazement. “And how do you think I should do that?”
“Figure it out. You’ve been in love with Beau for your entire life.”
“With a short fifteen-year hiatus during which we both married other people.”
“Whatever.” Jennifer waved an impatient hand at her. “The point is, you’re there right under his nose, and he’s certainly available. You have the chance of a lifetime. I want to know what you’re going to do about it.”