All for One

by Melody Carlson

  “It’s a date,” Janie agreed. “I’m starved.”

  At dinner Janie told Caroline about her encounter with Victor and Donna’s interruption, as well as Donna’s statement in regard to waiting for Victor. To Janie’s surprised relief Caroline seemed scandalized by the whole thing. “What nerve!” Caroline exclaimed. “Who on earth does she think she is anyway?”

  “Victor’s wife?”

  “Ex-wife. And for her to speak for God like that, well, that just irks me.” Caroline frowned. “I’m not sure I want to share a house with a woman like that.” Then she smiled. “But don’t worry, I do plan to move in there. Who knows, maybe Chuck and I will make her want to move out. Maybe she’ll decide to go home to Chicago.”

  Janie laughed. “Well, if you can do that, I’ll owe you one.”

  Caroline’s expression turned serious.

  “Still feeling sad about your mom?”

  She closed her eyes and sighed.

  “It’ll get better,” Janie assured her.

  “Oh, it’s not just my mom.” Caroline frowned. “It’s my brother, too.”

  “Your brother?”

  “Remember Michael? Well, he’s coming to Clifden for the funeral.”

  Suddenly Janie did remember. Michael had been kind of a creep back when the girls were young. He had a bad temper, a foul mouth, and some greasy-looking friends. Janie never trusted him, and sometimes she’d actually been afraid of him. Like Caroline she was relieved when Michael was drafted. “How old is Michael now?”

  “He’s six and half years older than me, so that makes him makes him more than sixty.”

  “Wow, that’s hard to believe.” Janie shook her head. “I still remember him as a mouthy teenager with a chip on his shoulder.” She forced a laugh. “I’m sure he’s nothing like that now.”

  “Don’t be too sure.” Caroline took a sip of her cabernet. She had insisted on ordering them a rather expensive bottle of wine. She held the glass up to the candle and squinted at it. “You know I spent about ten years and a lot of money in therapy trying to get over that brother of mine.”

  “Seriously?” Janie frowned at her.

  “Oh yeah.” Caroline nodded. “Michael is a real piece of work.” Caroline proceeded to tell Janie about some of the horrible things her brother had done to her while she was growing up. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call it sexual molestation,” she finally confessed, “but it was close.”

  Janie just shook her head. “I knew he was bad, Caroline, but I never knew he was that bad. Why didn’t you confide in us?”

  Caroline sighed. “I was probably too scared. Michael threatened me all the time, and I’d seen him do some really cruel things to animals. I never doubted that he’d do similar things to me. Don’t you remember some of the bruises I had?”

  “We all thought you were just clumsy,” Janie admitted. “You got better.”

  “Yeah, because Michael was gone.” Caroline looked close to tears. “Do you know that I actually hoped he’d get killed over there?”

  Janie didn’t know how to respond.

  “I felt so guilty about that. Then I thought maybe the war would change him. In some ways it did, but in some ways it only made him meaner.”

  “Was he ever arrested?” Janie asked quietly. “Does he have a court record or criminal history?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised.” Caroline talked about how he’d stolen money from her mom. “I’m sure charges could’ve been pressed. But my mom never would’ve done that. She was always trying to protect him—don’t ask me why. Probably because my dad was so hard on him. He was hard on all of us, although he did favor me in a warped sort of way. My therapist said Dad’s favoritism might’ve had a lot to do with Michael hating me so much. To be fair, my dad was extremely cruel to Michael. In a lot of ways Michael became like my dad.”

  “So what are you going to do when he gets here, Caroline?”

  She shrugged. “Act civilized and avoid him as much as possible.”

  “Where will he stay?” Suddenly and unexplainably, Janie envisioned Michael assuming he should stay at her house too, although she knew Caroline would probably be moved out by then. Still, the idea of it was horrific.

  “I have no idea. That’s his problem.”

  Janie nodded with relief. “Yes. You’re right. He’s a grown man. Let him find his own place to stay.”

  Caroline chuckled. “He’s welcome to my mom’s smoked-out house.”

  Janie laughed. “That might keep his visit short.”

  “Anyway, I’ll be at the B and B by then. I plan to move my stuff tomorrow. And I’ll make sure that Abby understands Michael isn’t welcome there.”

  “Abby’s not ready for any more guests anyway.”

  “Maybe he’s grown up by now,” Caroline said wistfully. “I mean, he’s in his sixties. It could happen, couldn’t it?”

  Janie forced a smile. “Sure. Why not?” But the truth was, she doubted it. Short of a miracle, Michael was probably still an older version of his mean self. For Caroline’s sake Janie hoped she was wrong.

  Chapter 17

  MARLEY

  Wednesday afternoons had taken on new meaning for Marley because of her midweek dates with Hunter. Maybe her maternal instincts were enjoying one last chance to mother a child. Or perhaps she was simply ready for grandmother-hood. Whatever the case, Marley loved Wednesdays.

  She and Hunter put the finishing touches on their sculpting-clay Christmas ornaments. While these were baking, Marley got out some fabric scraps and, due to a desperate need in Barbie’s wardrobe, gave Hunter her first sewing lesson. Hunter’s enthusiasm over seeing Barbie’s new skirt and top was contagious, and before long Marley was ready to take on a big sewing project herself.

  “Can we make Barbie a coat, too?” Hunter asked as they sorted through the fabric scraps that Marley had been collecting for years. At one time she thought she’d get into fabric collage, and later on she considered quilting, but mostly she had collected her pieces based on color and texture. Occasionally she did small sewing projects, like the pillows and curtains she’d created for her beach bungalow.

  “Sure.” Marley picked up a piece of garnet-colored velvet. “This would be pretty.”

  “Yeah!” Hunter nodded eagerly. “A Christmas coat!”

  Marley had just finished drawing out the lines for Hunter to cut when the phone rang. “You get started while I get that,” she told Hunter as she answered the phone.

  “Mom?”

  “Hey, Ashton,” she said happily. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m okay.” But something about the way he said this made her think just the opposite.

  “And Leo?”

  Ashton groaned. “Don’t ask.”

  “Oh?”

  “So what are you up to these days, Mom?”

  Marley gave him a quick lowdown, then explained she had Hunter with her. “We’re making Barbie clothes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she was naked.” Marley chuckled. “And because it’s fun.”

  “So Hunter is Jack’s kid?”

  “She’s his granddaughter.”

  “But she’s staying with you?”

  “Not staying with me, Ashton.” She told him about their arrangement for Wednesdays.

  “Oh, that must be nice for her.”

  “And for me.”

  “Right, so she’s your pseudo-grandchild? Or that daughter you never had?”

  “Not exactly.” Marley detected a trace of jealousy in her son’s voice, which made no sense. Neither did this conversation. “Are you really okay, Ashton?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “You don’t sound like yourself.”

  He didn’t
say anything.

  “Really, Ashton, is something wrong?”

  “Marley?” called Hunter. “I need some help.”

  “Just a minute, honey.”

  “What?” Ashton sounded confused.

  “Oh, not you, Ashton. I was talking to Hunter.”

  “Yeah, well, sorry to bother you, Mom. I know you’re busy.”

  “I’m not busy, Ashton. I’m talking to you.”

  “I won’t take any more or your time.”

  “But Ashton—”

  “Later, Mom.” He hung up.

  “Marley,” called Hunter, “I think I accidentally cut off Barbie’s sleeve.”

  “That’s okay, honey, we can fix it.” As she went over to see how to remedy the miscut fabric, she was thinking about Ashton. What on earth was going on with him? Usually Ashton was so grounded, so calm, so together. In fact Marley often went to him when she was in crisis. Also, he didn’t usually call her just to chat, especially not during business hours. She was certain that something was wrong with her only child. Later tonight, after she’d taken Hunter back to Jack’s gallery, she would call Ashton and gently attempt to get to the bottom of it.

  “We’ll just redesign this garment,” Marley explained to Hunter as she cut off the other sleeve. “That’s the beauty of sewing, it’s usually easy to fix a mistake.” As she reworked the coat into a rather pretty vest and matching skirt, she prayed that whatever was going wrong in Ashton’s life wouldn’t be too difficult to fix.

  “I wish I could live with you,” Hunter said to Marley as they loaded Hunter’s things into the car.

  Marley smiled at her. “Oh, you’d get tired of me after a while. I can be pretty grumpy in the morning. Sometimes I get so busy with my painting that I forget to do things like cook dinner.”

  “My mommy forgets to cook too.”

  Marley wished she hadn’t said that. She knew that Hunter’s mom, Jasmine, wasn’t about to win Mother of the Year anytime soon. But Marley didn’t want to get Hunter’s thoughts going the wrong direction. “It’s not always easy being a mommy,” she told Hunter as they got into the car. “But your mommy is lucky to have you. I’ll bet you help her a lot in your apartment.”

  Hunter shrugged and buckled her seat belt.

  “I know how much your mommy loves you,” Marley said as she drove through the fog toward town. “She would be really lonely if you lived somewhere else.”

  “Even if I lived with Grandpa?”

  Marley didn’t know what to say. “Why would you live with your grandpa?”

  “Because he’s Mommy’s daddy.”

  “Oh yeah.” Of course, this didn’t really explain much.

  “Mommy could live with him too.”

  “Is your mommy thinking about moving to your grandpa’s house?” Marley hadn’t heard mention of this yet, but it could be possible.

  “I don’t know. But Grandpa said we could live with him if we wanted to.”

  “Oh.” Marley nodded. In some ways it wouldn’t surprise her if Jack encouraged Jasmine and Hunter to move in with him. Jack didn’t approve of Jasmine’s lifestyle or of how she sometimes left Hunter home alone. For that matter Marley didn’t approve either.

  “Then, if you married Grandpa, I could live with you, too,” Hunter declared.

  Marley just laughed.

  “Why are you laughing?” Hunter sounded wounded.

  “I just think it’s funny how you’ve got this thing all worked out. But don’t you remember that I told you I wasn’t planning on marrying your grandpa, Hunter?”

  “Because of his wooden leg?” Hunter harrumphed. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you about that.”

  Marley laughed even louder. “No, it has nothing to do with his leg, Hunter.”

  “Then why?”

  Marley almost said because Jack hadn’t asked her but realized that would open a whole different can of worms. Hunter would probably go tell Jack that Marley was waiting for him to get down on his knees, which might be tricky with a wooden leg. “Getting married to someone is kind of personal, Hunter.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it just is. And remember I told you that if I decide to get married, I will definitely let you know?”

  “I know. I just don’t like to wait.”

  “How about you, Hunter?”

  “Huh?”

  “Do you plan to get married?”

  Hunter giggled. “I’m only seven and a half. I’m too little to get married, Marley.”

  “I know. But do you have a boyfriend?”

  Well, that did the trick. Because for the rest of the ride into town, Hunter told Marley all about Addison Lexington and how she liked to chase him at recess, but when she caught him, he told everyone that he hated her and that hurt her feelings. The day after, though, he wanted to sit by her at lunch, but when she offered to share her fish sticks with him, he got mad.

  “Boys are like that,” Marley confided to Hunter as they walked across the street to the gallery. “The good news is that if Addison didn’t like you, he probably would just ignore you altogether. So try to be patient with him.”

  “You try to be patient with my grandpa, too,” Hunter said as Marley opened the door. Naturally Marley had no response to that.

  “Hey, there are two of my favorite girls,” Jack called out. “Did you have a good afternoon?”

  Hunter immediately began to relay everything that they’d done, from working on the Christmas decorations to Barbie’s new wardrobe.

  “Here’s the proof,” Marley said as she handed Jack the grocery bag she’d filled with Hunter’s treasures.

  He smiled as he looked into her eyes. “Thank you, Marley. You are truly a gift.”

  She felt her cheeks warming. “Well, Hunter is a gift too.”

  “Your mom’s not here,” he told Hunter. “So you’re going home with me.”

  “I need to get going too,” Marley said quickly. She didn’t want to linger long enough for Hunter to start discussing the possibilities of them all happily living together. “I’ll see you guys later.” She noticed the questioning look in Jack’s eyes but simply made a little finger wave and hurried on out. Yes, she knew she was acting slightly juvenile. But with Hunter around, well, she never knew what was going to come out of that little girl’s mouth.

  Besides, she wanted to get back home and call Ashton. The more she’d thought about his strange phone call, the more worried she’d become. As she drove, she remembered the last time she’d heard a tone like that in his voice. It was a night she didn’t like to remember. But as she drove through the darkened streets, it came back at her like a flash.

  It hadn’t been easy for Ashton to tell his parents about his sexual orientation. For that matter it hadn’t been easy for his parents to hear about it. But Marley had tried to be understanding. She’d read and heard enough to know that their acceptance was imperative to his emotional well-being. Unfortunately John hadn’t read or heard the same information. Despite the fact that Ashton was nearly nineteen, John had treated him like a naughty child, acting as if Ashton should’ve known better.

  It was as if John took the whole thing personally, as if he thought Ashton’s homosexuality was nothing more than a bad reflection on John as a father. The truth was, John hadn’t been a very good father. Not that it had anything to do with Ashton’s sexual preference. But John was narcissistic. Everything was about him.

  As a result Marley had been caught in the middle. Like a frustrated umpire, she tried to make father and son understand each other. Later, when she discovered that John was still cheating on her, she gave up on the marriage completely. But she never gave up on Ashton. She never would.

  Her thoughts in regard to homosexuality, however, had gotten a bit murky in the last month or s
o. As a result of her surrendering her life to God, she’d begun to attend Abby’s mother’s weekly Bible study group. It hadn’t troubled Marley that Doris and her friends were all at least twenty years her senior. When they asked her to tell them about herself, among other things, she had mentioned her divorce and that her thirty-year-old son was an artist, a successful entrepreneur, and gay. “He’s in a committed relationship,” she’d said quickly when a couple of them looked shocked by her admission. “And I’m okay with it. Really.”

  “You’re okay with it?” Louise questioned her.

  “Sure.” Marley had smiled. “He’s my son. I love him no matter what.”

  Suddenly the ladies got into a somewhat heated discussion over whether homosexuality was wrong. Marley had tried not to show it at the time, but some of their comments had hurt her deeply.

  “I don’t know,” Fran had finally said. She was the quietest member of the group and for the most part had simply been sitting there listening as the others spouted their contrasting opinions, though most seemed to believe that God frowned on homosexuality. “Maybe God makes people different from each other,” Fran continued slowly. “Maybe we don’t understand everything. Don’t forget that Scripture in 1 Corinthians 13: ‘For now we see in the mirror dimly, but then we’ll see face to face … for now we know in part, but then we will understand fully, even as we have been fully understood.’ I know that’s not exactly verbatim, but it’s close.”

  “What are you saying?” Louise had demanded. “That God made homosexuals on purpose?”

  “I’m not sure.” Fran had gotten a thoughtful expression then. “But I do believe God loves homosexuals on purpose. I believe that’s what we should do too.”

  Of course, that wasn’t the end of the debate. Marley almost wished she’d never mentioned a word about Ashton to any of them. As much as some of their words stung, they had also made her wonder. Fran’s gracious response had been a bit more encouraging, but what was Marley, as a new believer in God, supposed to believe about all this?

  Finally she had metaphorically thrown up her hands, asking God to help her to come to grips with the gay thing. Even if God himself had shown up and declared that homosexuality was wrong, wrong, wrong, she wasn’t sure how she’d react. She was a mother, and there was no way she would ever stop loving her son. That would be as easy as stopping the surf that pounded outside her bungalow around the clock. She suspected that God’s position wasn’t as black and white as people like Louise tried to make it seem. Finally Marley had decided that God was big enough to handle the issue and wise enough to help her to understand it in time.