He cupped her face. Kissed her softly. “Good for you.”
“It’s time for you to start living again, too, you know.”
People wanted different things out of life. “I’m not sure what that means,” he said. “I’d decided marriage to you was ‘having it all.’”
“It wasn’t.”
He nodded. He should be depressed. He wasn’t.
“You’re going to have to risk it again, you know.”
He frowned and glanced at his watch, although he knew he could take whatever time he needed. He’d told Macy not to expect him back. “Risk what?”
“The grand passion.”
It must be a woman thing, this need they had to make everything emotional. Even Susan, as it turned out.
“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone,” he told her—and himself. “I also don’t think I have what it takes to put up with another Barbie.”
“Emotions and Barbie aren’t interchangeable,” Susan said. “I’m a doctor, Mark, and if you get nothing else from me, get this. Barbie was intensely sensitive. By all accounts you’re right about that. But that wasn’t her downfall. Her downfall was her character—which is what drove her to make the choices she made. That was what kept her from seeking medical help when things got unmanageable, and that allowed her to give in to illegal comfort.”
“I’m going to miss you.” He took her hand.
She nodded.
“What do you plan to do now?”
“I don’t know for sure,” she said, head tilted as she rested it against the door. “Be open and wait and see, I guess.”
“Any prospects?” He cared, but he wasn’t even all that jealous.
“Maybe.” She grinned. “There’s this administrator at the hospital. I can’t seem to get away from him, yet I always dismissed him because he’s nothing at all like me. Far too impractical. He flies planes in his spare time. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”
He smiled back. She was an extraordinary woman. “I have a feeling you’re about to find out.”
She shuddered. “I don’t know.”
“Well, if you need me to check him out for you, you let me know.” He was only half joking. “If you ever need anything, you let me know,” he added, this time not joking at all.
“Thanks.”
And then, as he contemplated getting back to school, another thought occurred to him. “Who’s going to tell Meredith?”
“She’s my friend, so I guess I will,” Susan said, as though she didn’t even consider it an issue. “Unless you want to.”
He dropped her hand, stepped outside. “It’s just that I’ll probably see her before you do and it might be awkward to lie to her.”
Susan gazed at him so thoroughly it made him uncomfortable. “And there’s Kelsey to consider, too,” was all she said. “They do seem to have formed quite a special attachment. Perhaps you should be the one to tell her.”
He nodded. He was the logical choice.
She agreed. Gave him one last quick kiss on the cheek, grabbed her purse and walked him to his car. Mark watched her pull out of her drive behind him, and didn’t miss the tears she wiped from her cheeks.
IT WAS ONLY as Mark arrived back at school that it occurred to him that Meredith might well blame him for the breakup with Susan. Notwithstanding the fact that she’d done the breaking up, he could still be judged as the one at fault for not giving Susan what she needed, for not making her happy. He started to regret not agreeing with Susan when she’d suggested that she be the one to tell Meredith.
Kelsey, on the other hand, would be pleased. For once. Their relationship had been painfully stilted since his daughter’s outburst four nights before. She hadn’t been in to watch him shave once since then. Maybe that would change now it was just the two of them again.
And if he ever did hook up with someone else, he’d do it differently where Kelsey was concerned. His daughter would have to be the one to instigate any relationship she might or might not have with any woman he chose to be his future wife. She’d been correct about one thing on Saturday. He didn’t have the right to choose whom she invited into her inner world.
“There’s a message for you from Angela Liddy, that reporter from KNLD in Tulsa who interviewed Ms. Foster three weeks ago,” Macy said as Mark pushed into the outer office of the principal’s quarters at Lincoln Elementary.
“Thanks. Anything else?”
“Just the new music teacher wanting permission to have the piano tuned.”
“She has it.” He closed his door behind him.
Two minutes later he opened it again.
“Macy, see that Ms. Foster stops in before she leaves for home this afternoon.”
“Will do, sir.”
He nodded, shut his door and thought about a gallon of caramel chocolate fudge ice cream with raspberry swirl. Everything else that came to mind made his neck muscles ache.
“DO YOU WANT the bad news or the worse news?”
What Meredith wanted was to go home. She hadn’t seen Mark since Saturday night and she’d had a particularly trying day. Her students’ parents might have chosen to keep their kids in her class, but the kids were not the same children she’d had before Barnett had started his slur campaign against her.
They argued with her more. Ignored her more. And that afternoon Jeremy had asked her to predict what grade he was going to get on the spelling test she’d been about to administer.
If the class had laughed, she might have been able to shrug the whole thing off, laugh with them, make some pithy comment in return. But though there’d been a few loud guffaws, most of the kids had looked embarrassed, uncomfortable—unsure of her.
And that hurt.
“Meredith?”
She sat down, her narrow denim skirt sliding halfway up her calves. “I’m sorry. I’ll take the worst.”
“Barnett’s going to be on talk radio Saturday morning.”
What had she done to bring this upon herself? “Who told you?”
“Angela Liddy. The station is a subsidiary of KNLD.”
“So what more can he say?”
“He’s got some experts who are going to be appearing with him.”
“What kind of experts?”
“A psychologist, for one.”
She could feel herself turning pale. “And let me guess,” she said. “A psychic.”
“So I’m told.”
“What time?” Maybe she, and everyone she knew, would be out for the day.
“7:00 a.m.”
When everyone she knew—and members of the school board—would be just waking up, possibly listening.
“He’s attempting to blow my credibility in the community.”
“You knew he wasn’t going to go away.”
She glanced up at him and caught him staring at her. Oddly. Differently. Probably because of what had happened Saturday night. She’d known it wouldn’t disappear, either.
“Has anyone heard from Ruth Barnett?” she asked. “Or anything about how Tommy’s doing?”
Mark shook his head.
“So what’s the bad news?” she asked, almost afraid to hear.
“Susan and I have decided not to see each other anymore.”
She sat straight up, her heart pounding. “What?” She hadn’t felt anything strong from Susan since they’d spoken on Sunday. “When?”
“This afternoon.”
Meredith’s eyes narrowed as she watched him. And she started to feel sick. “Why?” If Saturday had anything to do with this, she was leaving town. She wasn’t good for people. As hard as she tried, she just wasn’t good.
“Because Susan realized that we were more about convenience than love, and she wants the real thing.”
“Susan broke up with you?”
“Yep,” he said, moving to stand behind his desk. “Right after I asked her to marry me.”
“So it didn’t have anything to do with Saturday night?”
“Of course not,” Mark answered immediately, but he was sorting envelopes on his desk rather than meeting her gaze. On the surface he’d told her the truth, but somewhere deeper down there was no “of course” about it.
She had no idea what that meant.
And at the moment, she didn’t want to know.
ON FRIDAY, Kelsey didn’t argue when her mother suggested that they go straight to her house from school. They’d been spending time there and Kelsey was getting a little more used to the place. Besides, she’d have to go there when things got worked out and she could see Mom out in the open. They wouldn’t be able to hang out in her car forever. And they sure couldn’t go to Kelsey’s house.
“Dad’s not dating that woman anymore,” she said, even though she knew Mom didn’t like to hear about him. Just in case she was only with Don because she knew Dad was taken—which Kelsey had told her to try to make her jealous and come home.
“Mmm,” Mom said, as if she didn’t even hear her. Kelsey looked over at her, a little worried about the next couple of hours.
“I’m really glad.”
She glanced over, not sure her mother had heard. “It’s not that she was bad or anything,” she added for some reason. “I mean, I didn’t hate her, she just wasn’t, you know…”
You, she wanted to say. But Mom wasn’t listening. She was driving, staring out the front window, but her mouth was open a bit and her eyes stayed closed too long when she blinked.
“So how’s Don been?” Kelsey asked, making her voice as cheerful as she could. She only got to be with her mom once a week, except that one Thursday that Mom called her away from Josie—and that couldn’t happen anymore because Kelsey didn’t have enough good excuses to keep Josie’s mom from telling Dad that she was gone.
And with only this one day, she didn’t want Mom to be in one of her scary moods. She wanted her to be happy. Kelsey used to be able to make her happy all the time.
She wanted her to stay awake and not wreck the car.
“Mom?” she asked more sharply. “How’s Don been?”
“On the road most of the week.”
“He’s gone now?” She was glad about that, except that she’d wanted to ask him some questions about his friend—Kenny’s father. Kenny might like it if, when she saw him on Monday to take him more crystals for his art, she could tell him about his dad.
And maybe, someday soon, he’d show her some of his art.
“Did you say something?” her mother asked, her eyes tired-looking as she glanced over.
They were almost at the house.
“Is Don gone now?”
“No, he got back this morning.”
“Are you feeling sick?”
“What?” Mom glanced over at her again, really starting to scare her. Something wasn’t right. “Oh, no,” she said, without Kelsey having to repeat what she’d said this time. “I’m just tired, honey. I’ll be fine when we get back to the house. Don’s making me a cup of coffee. He makes the best coffee.”
Well, okay, then. If she was just tired, and wasn’t going to start yelling at her or throwing up or anything. She needed a ride back to Josie’s before Dad came to get her.
THEY WERE ONLY at the house for a couple of minutes before Mom disappeared through the garage door. At first Kelsey just looked around. The place was messier than usual, with dirty dishes, even a cereal bowl with gross milk in the bottom of it on the table by the couch, and papers and books and stuff lying where usually they sat.
When her legs got tired, she pushed some of the stuff aside and sat on the rocker, and from there she could see the garage door. A lot of time had passed and Mom still hadn’t come back. Kelsey figured she’d gone out to tell Don they were home, but she didn’t know that for sure. He might be in some other part of the house. Maybe taking a nap.
He could get up and find Kelsey there. She didn’t want to be caught in his living room alone without her mom.
She looked at the garage door again. Maybe she should just go and get her to come back in.
And why was Mom taking so long when they only had a little time together? She said she wanted to see Kelsey as much as Kelsey wanted to see her. That was why she was paying a lawyer.
What if she wasn’t just tired but she was sick and she didn’t want to make Kelsey worry?
Kelsey stood up. Then sat back down, staring at the garage door. She wished Josie was there and that she could ask her what to do.
Something that sounded like a click came from somewhere else in the house. A door opening? She couldn’t be sitting there if Don came out. What if he walked around the house in his underwear, like Josie said her dad sometimes did?
Gross. She did not want to see Don in his underwear. That would be worse than his teeth.
That did it. Kelsey stood up and went to the edge of the kitchen where the garage door was. Maybe she’d just stand there with her hand on the knob, in case Don came out. Maybe she’d hear her mom in there talking to someone.
She didn’t hear anything. Even when she held her ear to the door. She’d never been in any other part of the house, never even as far in as she was now, and she wished she still hadn’t been. The kitchen was worse than the living room. The floor had pieces missing, one of the counters was cracked, and there were dishes and boxes and trash and empty bottles everywhere. And a hot plate, as if Mom never cooked on a real stove. But there was one of those, too, and it looked like someone had spilled junk on it a long time ago and never cleaned it up.
She didn’t want to be there anymore, even if she could hear about Kenny’s father. She wanted to go home. Right then. She’d tell her mom she didn’t feel good—which was mostly true.
When another sound came from the house, Kelsey pulled on the garage door. She had to find her mom, had to get out of there. She was sweating and her hand slid off the door handle, but she grabbed it again and pulled harder.
And then, staring into the glaring light coming from the garage ceiling, she started to shake.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“KELSEY! What are you doing out here? You shouldn’t have opened that door!”
Don was sitting on a stool at a counter and Mom was on his lap, with her shirt partly undone and Don’s fingers on her boobs. She had a cup of coffee in one hand and Don’s head in the other, and all around them it looked like a science lab with beakers and hot pads and vials and things. In one corner was a huge pile of flares, like the ones she’d seen Don bring through the house that day from his truck.
“What is this place?” She felt like she had on Saturday night, when no matter how mad Dad got, she couldn’t give in.
“It’s my lab, sweetheart,” Don said, his hand slowly sliding from her mom’s chest. He pulled the edges of Mom’s blouse together. “Just a little hobby of mine.”
“What does it make?” she asked, scared to death and wondering how she was going to get out of there.
“It doesn’t make anything, sweetie,” Mom said, standing up slowly. She buttoned her shirt, and grabbing a broom, she started sweeping up red dust from the garage floor. “It’s just experiments to see what different stuff does, like scientists do when they’re looking for cures.”
Kelsey didn’t move. Mom seemed to be feeling a lot better, which was good. “Where are the microscopes?”
Mom glanced up at her. “For what?”
“Everyone knows scientists use microscopes.”
Don stood behind her mom, pulling her back against him, his hands on her hips. “She’s right, you know, love,” he said, with his face on the side of Mom’s neck.
“Don!” Kelsey had never heard her mom talk to Don in her mean voice. She started to shake again, afraid of what the big man would do to her mother.
Mom dropped the broom and it fell to the ground with a crack that made Kelsey jump. “Come on, Kelsey, let’s go.”
She wanted to run away and never come back, but just like on Saturday night she stood her ground. “What does it make?” she asked, looking str
aight at Don. She didn’t know why she did that, but she just wanted to make sure her mom was safe. That she was safe.
She couldn’t come back, if she didn’t know that.
“What do you think it makes?” he asked, coming closer.
Mom pulled at her elbow and said to Don, “Leave her out of this.”
Out of what?
Scared to death, Kelsey glanced at her mom—who was staring at Don. She looked at him, too, and then back at Mom, and neither one of them looked at her at all.
“She’s already in it up to her neck,” Don said. The words were soft, but he sounded mad and his broken yellow teeth were showing a lot.
“No, she’s not.”
“Who’s in it?” Kelsey asked, confused. Her legs were shaking and she had to go to the bathroom.
“No one,” Mom said, putting an arm around Kelsey, who felt like she might start crying.
“You are,” Don said. And then looking at her mom again, he said, “Telling her is the only choice, Barbie. She’s seen it. If she says anything, it’s over.”
Mom’s fingers got so tight on Kelsey’s shoulder that tears did come to her eyes. She was afraid to move.
“She’s just a baby.”
“Who’s been delivering goods,” Don said. “She’ll keep quiet about it if she knows she could go to jail.”
Jail? Kelsey felt a little bit of potty slip out. Did they even have jail for kids? Kelsey’d never seen that on TV.
“I didn’t do anything,” she said trying to feel the way she had on Saturday when Dad wanted her to let Susan in her prayers. She crossed her legs tight.
“That’s where you’re wrong, kid,” Don said, coming a little closer. Kelsey’s whole body started to shake.
“Stop it, Don,” Mom said sounding really mean. “You’re scaring her.”
Don stopped. Kelsey was kind of surprised by that.
“I’m sorry, Barbie,” he said. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt, certainly not her.” He nodded toward Kelsey. “And the only way to guarantee that is to make sure she doesn’t say anything she shouldn’t. She has to know what she can’t say.”
“Don’t tell anyone you saw this garage or anything in it, Kelse, okay?” Mom asked, leaning low to look Kelsey in the eye.
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