Discovering Normal

by Cynthia Henry

  Ramona nodded as they made their way across the porch. The creak of the kids’ swing set seemed to say goodbye. Beth held her head high and kept walking.

  Chris was on the front step with Audrey on his knee and Noah tucked beneath his arm. She couldn’t think about what he must be feeling--the rawness and helplessness he’d been forced into because she couldn’t pretend anymore. He glanced up when Beth and Ramona rounded the wisteria bushes, but looked back to the kids just as quickly.

  Beth stepped to his side and extended her hands to her children. “Come on guys. We have to get on the road.”

  “Daddy’s driving!” Audrey said as she slid off her father’s lap and tugged his massive arm.

  He stood and shook his head. “No, not this time, Audrey. Mommy’s driving.”

  Chris scooped up their little girl and pulled her so close, Audrey looked startled. He buried a kiss in the hair that Beth knew smelled sweet and simply froze it there. He lowered her finally and handed her to Beth. Noah stood head down, kicking at dusty sand.

  “I wanna stay with you,” he whispered and Beth’s heart tugged knowing he truly did want that, and she couldn’t even blame him.

  “Your mom needs you, buddy. I’ll see you in a month, okay? I’m anxious to hear all about that new school of yours.”

  “I don’t want to go to school in damned Connecticut.”

  “Noah!” Beth snapped, but Chris just smirked and ruffled the hair that was almost identical to his own.

  “It’ll be okay, Noah. Promise.”

  Noah started to slink toward the car, but then apparently thought better and zoomed back to wrap his arms around Chris’ waist. “Come with us.”

  Beth had seen tears in her husband’s eyes a total of three times ever. The first had been the day she’d finally remembered, whispered that she loved him and thanked him for not giving up. The second had been the day this child had been pushed into the world and Chris held him to his chest as he’d smiled down at her. The third had been an almost identical moment six years later when Audrey had arrived.

  Today was number four.

  Noah turned and bolted to the car, obviously not able to linger a minute more. After Chris had given Audrey a final kiss, Beth handed her off to Ramona to settle into the car.

  And now there was nothing left but goodbye.

  “I’ll call when we get there.”

  He sucked in a breath, but used everything left in him not to meet her eye. “Did you get oil?”

  Beth nodded and crossed her arms so she was certain that she wouldn’t touch him. “Yes, Fosters’ put it in this morning when I filled up.”

  “Okay then.”

  He backed toward the house as if he were ready to disappear into it and Beth was well aware that it would only be cruel to make him stay, but she called to him anyway. He turned--so handsome and sad--and met her eyes.

  “I am very sorry that it’s ending this way. I never wanted this.”

  He swallowed, looked toward the car, gave his fingers a kiss and raised them in that direction before disappearing into the house.

  ***

  Beth glanced at her sleeping children in the rearview mirror. They’d been good and mostly quiet as if even Audrey sensed that life was changing forever more. Beth had indulged them with McDonald’s, but they’d eaten in silence just as they’d driven most of the way.

  “Noah,” Beth called, her eyes weary.

  He shifted and readjusted his head against Audrey’s car seat.

  “Noah, honey. Can you wake up?”

  Noah opened the eyes that Beth was well aware a girl in the future would lose herself in, and rubbed them with a yawn.

  “We’re only eight miles from Grandmother and Grandfathers’. Why don’t you try and wake up a bit so you can say hello when we get there.”

  Noah stretched, yawned again and straightened in the seat.

  “Honey,”

  He met her eyes in the mirror.

  “I know this is really hard for you, but I’m going to do my best to make everything all right. I went to school here and so did Uncle Brock and Uncle Miles. They were both very good athletes in school, and I’m sure you’ll be happy here.”

  “Dad said it’s just for a little while.”

  Fury bubbled in her gut, but she couldn’t convey that to her son. “We’re here for a while, honey. Remember I told you that?”

  Noah dug a baseball out of his backpack and began bouncing it against the back of the front seat. Beth generally wouldn’t allow it and he knew it too, but she ignored it as she pulled onto Patrick Henry Drive.

  The house she’d lived in from birth until she left for college was lit up causing it to stand out on the quiet cul de sac at 11:45 at night. The front door swung open as soon as Beth pulled into the circular drive. Their longtime housekeeper, Francine, scurried down the front walk.

  Beth shifted the car into park and hopped out only to be met by Francine’s energetic squeeze. Emotionally, Francine had been more a mother than her own ever had. “Oh, sweetie. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Noah was unfastening his sister’s car seat when Francine stuck her head in. Her hair had always been more gray than a color, but now it was completely white, twisted high on her head and she still wore her uniform even though she officially finished her shift at 9:00. “Noah! Do you remember me darlin’?”

  He climbed out and kept his arms stiff to his sides when Francine embraced him. “I know who you are,” was all he said.

  Audrey had scurried out of the seat and the car. She dragged a Raggedy Ann by one arm and they both looked weary. “And this must be beautiful Miss Audrey!” Audrey nodded a sleepy nod and Francine pulled her tight. “I’ve never had the pleasure of actually meeting you. Your Mommy hasn’t gotten here much in the last few years.”

  “But she’s here now,” Beth said and turned to see her parents dressed in matching burgundy colored robes, making their way down the walk. Beth watched her mother give her grandchildren polite hugs and then instructed Francine to take them inside.

  “You should’ve flown, Elizabeth,” her father said when he leaned in to buss her cheek.

  “But I had so much to bring and I wanted my car.”

  Her father raised his brow at the SUV.

  “I’m so tired. Can we talk tomorrow?” Beth grabbed a suitcase from the back and clicked the gate closed.

  Her father took it from her hand. “Chris called an hour ago. He was growing concerned.”

  “I had my cell.”

  “I don’t suppose he actually wanted to speak with you, dear,” her mother said with impeccable British pronunciation as she led the way inside.

  ***

  Beth pulled on a simple sleeveless nightgown and combed through her wet hair. She’d called Chris briefly to say they’d arrived and let Noah say a quick hello. Then she shooed her son to bed and planned to follow after she scrubbed the twelve hour drive from her body. She set the brush on the vanity and turned down the silk sheets just as the door slid open.

  Beth looked up to see her mother carrying a tray with a mug of hot chocolate.

  “I thought you might like this.”

  Beth took the mug though she truly wanted the sanctuary of the bed. “Thank you.”

  Her mother slid her palm over the comforter and sat at the edge. Greer Williams was a woman of breeding and though she loved her children, intimacy wasn’t her strong point. “You know that I’ve always feared this day would come.”

  Beth set the cup down on the nightstand. “I’m not discussing this tonight, Mother. I’m too tired, too confused--”

  Greer raised a sculpted brow. “Confused? You shouldn’t be confused, Elizabeth. This was as predictable as the wind.”

  Beth sighed and massaged her temples. “And why is that?”

  “Because you and Christopher were so very mismatched from the get go. We can’t change who we truly are, Elizabeth.”

  “Mother, our problems developed. They weren’t always th
ere.”

  “Christopher was from one walk of life, you from another.”

  Beth stuffed her feet beneath the covers. “I’m so tired, Mother.”

  Her mother stood and gave Beth’s forehead a feathery kiss. She trailed her fingers through the wet strands of Beth’s hair and she felt herself almost doze until her mother spoke again.

  “I’d always feared that the day would come when your incompatibility would become evident, but I knew it for sure when I visited you after Audrey’s birth.”

  Beth opened her eyes.

  “You were propped in your bed, nursing Audrey. Noah was curled at your side. I was trying to speak with you, but Christopher appeared and leaned on the doorframe. He stood with his hands in his pockets and that charming smirk on his face. You ignored me, my dear, and focused your attention on your husband…on the life you’d made. At that very moment I knew the end was insight.”

  “What in the world are you talking about?”

  “It was too perfect, Elizabeth. Too extraordinary. Nothing in life is that unblemished. You found that out soon enough.”

  Her mother flicked off the Tiffany lamp and the room was dark.

  Chapter 5

  Chris rolled over, squinted, and tried to decide if it was I Can’t Get No Satisfaction by The Stones, or Teenage Wasteland, by The Who, pounding through his brain. He did his best to hoist and find the alarm clock only to realize that he had somehow ended up with his head at the foot of the bed and his feet near the headboard. He got his bearings and made out 7:50 on the clock. Shit!

  No matter how he felt, there were cows to be milked.

  The unmistakable smell of bacon wafted through the heating grates and hit his nose. He beat back the nausea as he remembered. Anita Borden--redheaded waitress at Flaherty’s Pub with a chest bigger than her brain, suggestive looks and messages for three years now and wild sex in his bed until 4 a.m. when he’d finally said enough and crashed into sleep.

  Chris pulled himself up, snatched the jeans that he’d managed to locate and stumbled his way to the bathroom and then down the stairs. Anita stood in the kitchen--Beth’s kitchen--wearing a bra, panties and an apron that lettered with EVOO. Apparently she didn’t care that a half dozen farmhands and herdsman were wandering the property. She smiled when she saw him, flipped an omelet and turned down the flame beneath the bacon.

  “Hiya,” she said with a grin.

  “Morning.” Chris wandered to the coffee that she’d set to brew and poured a stiff black cup.

  “There’s orange juice in the pitcher on the table. Fresh squeezed.” She wiped her hands right over the EVOO. “Your wife has lovely things. I couldn’t resist looking through the cupboards.”

  Goddamn.

  Chris slid into a wooden chair. The scratch of the leg against the floor set his head flipping yet again. What the hell was he doing? Why the hell was Anita Borden-the-barmaid going through Beth’s cupboards and flipping an omelet that he could see contained green pepper? He hated green pepper.

  Beth always knew that though he didn’t remember ever telling her.

  Anita slid the omelet onto a plate she’d decorated with little curls of oranges. She plucked two pieces of bacon and arranged them around the top. “Hope you’re hungry. I thought after all of the…” she turned with a coy grin. “Hard work you did last night, you’d probably worked up an appetite.”

  She set the plate in front of him and then just as quickly plopped onto his lap. She plastered a kiss against his lips that he didn’t open. His head pounded and he didn’t want the damn omelet. He just wanted her to go home to her apartment above Flaherty’s.

  “The bacon’s extra crisp,” she whispered against his lips as she trailed her fingers through his hair.

  Chris lifted her up and stood. “This looks great and I’m sure it is. But I don’t really eat breakfast. One of the guys will eat it though. Thanks.”

  Anita looked hurt. “I wanted to make something for you. I love to cook.”

  Damn he was cold. Sure she was cheap and dumb, but he remembered the drill. You screwed them, you damn well better be ready to eat their omelet come daybreak. Chris sliced a wedge with his fork and popped it into his mouth.

  Bland and rubbery. The green pepper screamed at him. “Very good,” he said instead.

  Anita clapped her hands near her chin. “I’m even better with dinner.” Anita stalked to his side and wrapped her arms around him once again. “I’m best with dessert,” she whispered.

  Mercifully the phone rang. “I really have to take a shower and get some work done. I never get started this late.” He sidestepped to the phone and snatched it. His mother was on the other end--checking up on his first official day as a separated man. “I’ll call you back,” he said and lowered the receiver.

  Anita hadn’t budged. She just untied her apron, taking extreme care to jut her tits out. “I’ve had a crush on you for so long. But you were married so I never acted on it. I couldn’t believe it when you flirted back last night.” She looked up and damn, she was going to cry. “Last night was a dream come true for me. You’re everything I imagined.”

  Chris sucked in a breath and set the plate in the sink. “Anita, my wife just left yesterday. I’ve got a lot of shit to figure out.”

  “Story of my life,” she said as she laid the apron down. “I’m always the rebound girl.”

  He watched her walk to the back stairs and then disappear up them. Was this going to be his life now--sleazy girls and excuses? He heard a crash, a bark and a tiny scream.

  Apparently Anita had discovered that Sundance, who missed Beth as much as Chris did, had decided to sleep outside of the bedroom door.

  ***

  George kept trying to take her hand.

  Beth combated the action each time. It wasn’t that she found him unappealing; it was just that this wasn’t the time, in front of her children while they surveyed Noah’s new school.

  His building in Garrity had been a state-of-the-art facility with shiny bright playground equipment and whimsical murals painted on hallway walls. The Langston Rhodes Elementary School in Old Saybrook was fortress-like with creaky floors and huge paintings of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln with wandering eyes, staring down from corridor walls. They’d frightened Beth as a child and Noah seemed equally unimpressed.

  Audrey had scaled Beth’s leg at the sight of the smile-less Washington. Chris was the one who generally lugged her. At four-years-old, she was getting heavy. Beth set her down, but squeezed her hand tight. “Noah,” she said after she glanced at the paper she held. “This is your classroom. Miss Hilton, room 142. I went to third grade in this room. There was a piano!”

  “Yeah,” he said sarcastically and kicked the doorframe.

  George knelt to Noah’s level. “Noah, your mom is trying hard here. Try and help her, all right.”

  And in a flash of what was truly his father, Noah unleashed an icy glare. Beth had always stressed manners and respect, but this time maybe Noah was justified. Beth touched George’s arm and tugged him to the other side of the hall.

  “Please, George, don’t try and intervene. He only found out two days ago that we were moving here and his whole life has flipped around. Give him time. Don’t push. He’s very close to Chris and he’s only ten. He’s missing his dad. Just allow him that.”

  George glanced at Noah who had hiked Audrey to an ancient drinking fountain. “He looks just like him.”

  “Acts like him too,” Beth whispered and gave George a gentle pat.

  George sighed and adjusted his tie. Beth felt for him too--for all of the men in her life. They were all hurting in one way or another and she was probably to blame. “It’ll all work out, George. In time.”

  He was a handsome man, though Beth had always been more attracted to roguish danger than upscale polish, but he was kind and understanding and he’d always loved her. She wouldn’t have been strong enough to move on had he not been there to cushion her fall.

  “We�
��re still having dinner tonight, right?”

  Beth nodded. “Of course.”

  George turned to her children. “Who would like to go to Papa Joe’s House of Pizza?”

  Audrey hopped, spun, teetered and then hopped again.

  Noah shrugged, but followed in line after giving Miss Hilton’s fifth grade room a final once over.

  Chapter 6

  The Most Masterful was annoyed.

  He ignored the knock, concentrating instead on Chanta-Clara. Lovely, young, raw material. Just eighteen, she was a true find; one of the few who had taken little coercing when she’d realized she’d been chosen. She arrived a few days ago and quicker than usual, The Most Masterful was informed last night that Chanta-Clara was ready.

  The knock persisted and with each rap, Chanta-Clara grew more distant.

  “Enter!” he snarled and lifted from the bed, grabbing his silken shirt in the process.

  Dara-Dawn stood hovering. Her child was evident. Soon The Most Masterful’s first offspring would be born.

  But not his last.

  He hastily buttoned. “I trust you have a good reason to disturb me.”

  Dara-Dawn curtsied as she attempted not to look at Chanta-Clara who had drawn a sheet to her chin. “I do, Your Most Masterful.”

  He rolled his hand in impatience. “Very well…”

  Dara-Dawn evidently chose not to take in the sight of his newest conquest. She turned so her back was to the girl. “We’ve just received word.”

  Tired of the game now, he sucked in a breath. “Divulge your knowledge, Dara-Dawn or prepare to be sorry that you hesitated.”

  “The Master Courier sent me. He believed I’d have an easier time gaining access to your quarters.”

  “What is it already? You’re disturbing me!”