A Million Little Things--A Novel

by Susan Mallery

  Before she could respond, he leaned over and kissed her. Just once and oh so lightly. He straightened and walked to the island.

  “The perfect margarita begins with great tequila. I brought you the best.”

  “You might be a little prejudiced about that.”

  “I’m not. I’ve tried all the others and this is by far the most superior tequila ever made. Now the secret to the perfect margarita is proportion and very sweet limes. Do you know how to tell if a lime is sweet?”

  She leaned against the counter and smiled. “No, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

  He winked. “I’m going to show you, Pamela, which is much, much more interesting.”

  * * *

  Jen’s ongoing research about Jack had finally led her to someone she hoped could help. So Thursday morning she left Jack with her mother and an hour later had parked outside a three-story medical building in Orange County. The outside was a little shabby, but Jen was more concerned about the woman she was meeting inside.

  She went up to the third floor and found the office. Deirdre McCallan was an herbalist and nurse practitioner who had rave reviews on several parenting sites. Deirdre specialized in treating autistic children with herbal remedies and other alternative therapies.

  Jen had come prepared. She had copies of Jack’s medical records, including his most recent blood work and the results of several evaluations. She’d also recorded a few home sessions so Deirdre could see how he interacted.

  The reception area was small, with a worn love seat and a single wooden chair. The air smelled of incense and sandalwood. Primitive art decorated the walls. Jen perched on the edge of the wooden chair and told herself everything would be fine. If not this woman, then she would find someone else. She wasn’t giving up on her son.

  Right at eleven the inner door opened and a tall, thin woman about forty or so came out.

  “You must be Jennifer,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Deirdre. So nice to meet you. Please come back and let’s talk.”

  The private office was about three times the size of the waiting area. There were bookshelves lining two walls and fabric hangings on the others. A large window opened onto the parking lot and the freeway beyond.

  The furniture was overstuffed with an Asian influence. There were several carved wood tables and a few low stools along with two sofas. The incense smell was stronger here. A refrigerator hummed in the corner. Next to that was a cabinet with a large lock by the handle.

  Deirdre motioned to one of the sofas. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

  When they were seated, Deirdre leaned forward. “Tell me what brings you here today.”

  “It’s about my son. Jack. He’s nineteen months old.” Jen explained how he’d been growing just fine, doing everything he was supposed to do, on time. Until recently. She handed over the records, talked about the tests and finished with, “I know there’s something wrong. I’m with him every day and I feel it in my gut. But no one will listen. No one believes me.”

  Deirdre sighed. “I feel your frustration. Western medicine is excellent when it comes to mechanics. You can’t meditate away a broken bone. But with the more subtle issues, especially those involving the brain, it is still in the Dark Ages. If it isn’t detailed in a textbook, it doesn’t exist.” She offered a sympathetic smile. “You’re his mother. Of course you would sense what was right and what was wrong about your own child.”

  She held out her hand and Jen passed over the files. “The human body is a complex organism,” she continued. “So many systems interact in unique and unexpected ways. The immune system alone baffles us. What causes cancer? MS? Dementia. We’re barely scratching the surface.”

  Jen listened politely, but honestly had no idea what the other woman was going on about. “I just want Jack to talk.”

  “Of course you do. To talk and be like other children. It’s what all parents want.”

  “Can you help me?”

  Deirdre continued to smile. “I’m going to do my best.” She rested her hands on the files but didn’t open them. “Let me tell you how my process works. I’ll review his tests then arrange for a few of my own. I’ll want to have his hair analyzed for toxins. We’ll need to do a saliva test, which will be challenging as he’s so young, but it’s not impossible.”

  “That’s a cheek swab?”

  Deirdre shook her head. “He will spit saliva into test tubes at different times during the day.”

  There was a yucky visual, Jen thought as her stomach lurched. “Okay,” she said slowly.

  Deirdre set Jack’s file on the table, then went to her desk. There she picked up a slim folder and handed it to Jen.

  “This will explain the basic toddler package. I suggest we start there. I’ll want to start him on supplements right away.”

  Jen stiffened. The folder slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor. “Supplements. What do you mean?”

  “He’s low on essential elements.”

  “You haven’t even met him. How can you know that?”

  Deirdre’s smile was knowing. “Because of where he lives and what he eats. Our food has been robbed of all its nutrients. Your son is in a state of amino acid starvation. Everyone is. With Jack, it’s manifesting in his inability to talk.”

  Supplements? “What’s in them?”

  “My proprietary blend. I’m afraid I can’t tell you what that is. I hope you’ll understand.”

  Jen felt the last bubble of hope pop. She didn’t let her son watch TV or eat sugar. There was no way she was going to give him a bunch of mystery supplements.

  Deirdre’s kind expression never changed. “I know this is difficult. You’re confused and afraid. What I’m offering isn’t traditional medicine and what we aren’t used to can be frightening to us. Take the material and read it. When you’re ready, bring Jack to meet me and we’ll get started. In the meantime, I would love to check your hormone level. I’m sure they’re still out of balance from your pregnancy.”

  “I just want my son to talk,” she repeated. There had to be an answer somewhere. But not here, she thought as she rose. She grabbed Jack’s file from the coffee table. “How much do I owe you for the consultation?”

  “The first visit is always complimentary.” Deirdre rose. “I feel your pain, Jennifer. I can help. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

  If only that information was helpful, Jen thought as she left and made her way back to her car. Once she was behind the wheel, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Hair analysis and saliva tests? Jack wasn’t even two. She couldn’t do that to him or herself. Whatever the answer was, it wasn’t here. Which meant she had to keep looking. She didn’t care how long it took or if no one else thought there was a problem. She wasn’t giving up on her son. She just wished she wasn’t so very alone in her struggle.

  Chapter Ten

  Zoe pulled into Steven’s driveway. His house was slightly larger than hers, and a little older. She could see the roof was new and the yard had been spruced up. Given his background in construction, he was likely to be handy with the remodeling, she thought as she walked around to the passenger side and opened the door.

  Steven stepped out onto his front porch, then came down to help. She allowed herself a second to admire him in jeans and an open shirt over a green T-shirt before motioning to the car.

  “Don’t be frightened,” she said with a laugh. “I’m not moving in. I just got a little carried away.”

  He studied the small Crock-Pot and the two grocery bags. “I think I can handle this much baggage. I’m a tough guy.”

  With that he put his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

  She went easily into his embrace. His kiss was sure and delicious. There was no sense of being rushed, of this being a pit stop on th
e journey to something better. When he released her, she found herself wanting to keep on kissing him. Her nerves were humming, her girl parts happy.

  This was nice, she told herself. Being with him, getting to know him. So far there weren’t any complications or games. No secrets. She appreciated that.

  “So what did you bring me?” he asked as he picked up the Crock-Pot in one hand and the bags with the other. She collected her handbag and followed him into the house.

  “An asiago cheese dip,” she said. “Spicy but one of my favorites. I have crackers, a tortellini salad, cut-up raw veggies and cookies.”

  Steven pushed open his front door. “I said I was going to make you dinner.”

  “You are. These are just extras.”

  The midcentury house had a large living room with a stone fireplace that reached to the ceiling. Big windows opened onto the front yard. She could see the dining room beyond.

  “It’s a girl thing,” she told him as they walked down the short hallway to the kitchen. “We have to bring food.”

  “I’m not complaining.” He set everything on the counter. “All I have is steaks, green salad and some red wine.”

  “So it all works out.”

  “It does.”

  He put his hand on her waist and drew her to him. She went willingly and leaned up against him. Despite their difference in heights, they fit together nicely. He was lean, yet muscled, and he smelled good.

  But instead of kissing her, he stared into her eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”

  She flushed. She’d taken extra time deciding on what to wear. She’d settled on a casual dress and flats. Her hair was loose with a slight curl and she was wearing just enough makeup to feel pretty but not so much that she looked like she was trying hard. Nice that he noticed.

  He touched her cheek with his fingers, then lightly kissed her lips before stepping back. “What has to go in the refrigerator?”

  “The salad. The dip should be plugged in.”

  They took care of that, then he poured them each a glass of wine. He gave her a quick tour of the house. The hall bath was torn down to the studs. There was a sketch on the bathroom wall, showing what it would look like when it was finished.

  “Do you do all the work yourself?”

  “I could, but I don’t have time. To be honest, while I know how to do tile work, I’m not an expert. So I trade for it. I have buddies who come in and help. In return I show up at their place. It works.”

  He put his arm around her and led her back down the hall. She saw the guest bedroom had tools stacked in a corner and a pair of sinks by the window.

  “I’m going to wait to paint all the bedrooms at once.” He gestured behind them. “The master is that way,” he said. “Best not to go in there.”

  “Too messy?”

  “Too tempting.”

  Her stomach clenched. She liked that he was being a gentleman, but not too much of one.

  On the other side of the house were two more guest rooms that were untouched and a big bathroom that had already been updated. The quartz countertops gleamed. There was a big walk-in shower and a tub, along with a linen closet. He’d chosen cool colors—white and various shades of gray—but they worked well together.

  “Nice,” she said. “Did you pick all this out yourself?”

  “I wish. My mom helped. She’s good with that kind of stuff. I wanted neutral tones. At some point I’m going to settle down. I’m guessing at that time, the lady in question and I will want to get a house together so we can make it our own. This would become a rental property.”

  He showed her the remodeled family room. A big-screen TV stood at one end, with comfortable, oversize leather chairs forming a seating area.

  “The surround sound is built in,” he told her.

  She laughed. “Of course it is.”

  There was a wide sliding door that led to a big backyard. There was a big grassy area, a few scraggly-looking plants and a covered patio with a large barbecue.

  “I haven’t done much out here,” he said. “I landscaped the front last fall and then got busy with the inside of the house. I’ll tackle this part in the spring.”

  “I’ve always wanted raised planting beds. I want to do some at my house. I’m just not sure how.”

  “I can help. They’re easy.”

  “That would be nice. Thank you.”

  They went back in through the kitchen, then around the corner.

  “Tell me what you think,” he said, stepping back so she could walk into the small half bath.

  It was like stepping back in time. The floor and counter were done in 1950s light and dark blue tiles. The ones on the counter were square, but the ones on the floor were six-sided, with the darker tiles on the inside and the lighter tiles as a border. The walls were an even lighter blue. The mirror was round and the toilet was medium blue.

  Zoe started to laugh.

  “Is that good laughter or bad?” Steven asked.

  “I love it.”

  “Yeah? I’ll admit my first thought was to tear out everything and start over. But the longer I live with it, the more it grows on me.”

  “If we were talking about the kitchen or the master bath I’d tell you to remodel, but this is just a half bath. Why not keep it? It goes with the era of the house and it’s actually really appealing.”

  They went back to the kitchen. Zoe set out the appetizers. She spooned the hot dip into a bowl and they took everything into the living room. Rather than sit on the sofa, they sat on the floor at the coffee table. Soft jazz played from hidden speakers.

  “You have a nice setup,” she told him. “Is this your first house?”

  “It is.”

  “You did well.”

  He grinned. “For a man. Admit it. That’s what you were thinking.”

  “Maybe. Of course, you have an unfair advantage. You’ve been in the construction business for a while. You’ve been exposed to different styles of architecture.”

  “I still think beige is a perfectly good color.”

  She laughed. “Okay, that is very much a guy thing, but you don’t think it’s the only color.”

  “That’s true.”

  She looked around. “You don’t have Lulu. I know your mom’s out of town.”

  “Lulu is a special girl, but I don’t think I’m ready to take her on just yet. She’s with my mom’s friend Shannon.”

  “Afraid you’d have to walk her?”

  Steven considered the question. “I’m fairly comfortable in my masculinity, but I have to admit, Lulu might be a little too over-the-top for me.”

  “Maybe if she was wearing something in camouflage.”

  He grinned. “I think the bigger problem is her wearing anything. She is a dog.”

  “Not in her heart.”

  “Mason would never wear clothes,” he said.

  “Mason’s a cat. It’s different. I think Lulu looks adorable.”

  “Then if I have to babysit her, you can walk her.”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  “So what’s new in the world of work?” he asked. “Any exciting manuals to translate?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “No, which is why I’ve been thinking a lot about doing something else. I’m still at the ‘I’m not sure what’ stage.”

  “Any ideas? Still thinking about going into teaching?”

  “A question I’ve been asking myself. I’m thinking about it. Substitute teaching would give me a way to test the waters again, without making a big commitment.”

  “What age range?”

  “I’ve been checking out the requirements and I’m pretty sure I can handle them all. My degree is in English, so at the high school level I couldn’t sub for any of the sciences o
r PE, but most of the other classes are fine.”

  He winked. “You’d be that hot new teacher all the guys are after.”

  She held up both hands. “Thanks, but I doubt that. I’ll be the new, awkward teacher who doesn’t know what she’s doing.” She spooned some dip onto a cracker. “Your mom has talked to me about her volunteer work. That sounds interesting, but I don’t really have business experience. Still, I’m going to explore some volunteer opportunities. I’m also thinking about grad school. I’m going to talk to a counselor at Cal State Dominguez Hills.”

  The college was close and had an excellent graduate program.

  “That’s where I went,” Steven told her. “It’s a commuter school, but I had a good time.”

  “I’ve heard about your wild days. A different girl every night. Any fond memories?”

  “Plenty of memories and no reason to go back. That part of my life is over. I’m ready for the next phase.”

  Which sounded nice, Zoe thought, then reminded herself not to read too much into his words. They were only talking—not making a lifelong commitment. Still, it was nice to hear a man speak about the future at all. Chad never did. There were no specifics with him. No promises, no hopes. At the time, she’d been so sure she loved him. With hindsight, she saw theirs had been a relationship of convenience, nothing more.

  “What are you thinking about?” Steven asked.

  She searched frantically for some other topic but her mind was blank and she was forced to admit, “My ex.”

  Steven picked up a slice of red pepper. “In a good way or a bad way?”

  “I was just wondering why I stayed with him for so long.”

  “Didn’t you say you lost your mom a while back?”

  “Yes.”

  One shoulder rose and lowered. “That’s part of it. Even if you knew he wasn’t right for you, how could you make any decision about your love life while you were dealing with the loss of your mother? He’d been a part of your life for a long time.”