“Never wanted you to know. A girl doesn’t need to know that about the woman who birthed her. You were in the truck with me when I saw the car outside our house. His goddamned car in my drive. I told you to wait in the truck. And it’s a good thing I had you with me. I might’ve killed him otherwise.”
“And we left that night?”
“We stayed here for a few nights while I tried to sort it all out. I couldn’t divorce her. The judge would have given you to her. I couldn’t leave you with her. She was never fit to be anyone’s mother.”
“Wait. You never divorced her?”
“Nope. If I went all legal like that, no judge would’ve given you to me. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t come lookin’ for us—hell, I think she was glad to see us go—but I couldn’t take the chance. Best to let sleepin’ dogs lie. She was a nasty, vindictive bitch then, and no doubt, still is.”
All those years of Charlie’s living in Bo and Ruth’s trailer started to make more sense. I’d always thought that we couldn’t afford a house. Charlie said he’d taken the job Bo offered because it paid as well as the one at Hot Rocks, but with a place to live thrown in. Now I realized that if he had owned any property, Shawneen would’ve had a claim to it. And then he’d given me that huge check. He’d had the money but chose to save it. For me, it seemed. Would he have put it toward his own ranch if I hadn’t moved up to Bo and Ruth’s place?
Charlie hit the pipe and started following it, exposing a longer section as I sat processing it all. Had I really ever called him Dad? I had no memory of ever using the name Dad for anyone, certainly not him. The realization felt like a piercing hole. I hugged my knees to my chest feeling like I could squeeze it away.
“Yup. Here it is. Here’s your split. This joint was always vulnerable. You’ve got to flush the line or leave a drip going in that lower field before winter sets in, or it’ll bust it right here. I got some pipe in the back of the truck and some elbows in the cab. You want to grab ’em?”
I nodded and pushed to my feet. In the truck, there was a battered cardboard box with pipe joints and cement. Next to that was a plastic-wrapped plate of peanut butter cookies, my favorite. I remembered Ruth teaching me how to roll the dough between my hands to form a perfect ball before pressing the crisscross pattern into it with a fork. Bo had loved the way the house smelled when Ruth and I made them. He always took his with a big glass of milk. I grabbed two from the plate.
I set down the box and handed one of the cookies to Charlie. “Still your favorite?” he asked, taking his carefully between his dirt-covered fingers. He bit nearly the whole cookie, leaving just a small crescent he fed to Houdini.
I nodded, taking a bite of cookie and tasting home.
“Ruth sent them. Said I’d be saving her the trip to the post office.”
“She sends peanut butter cookies in the summer. When it’s colder, she sends peanut butter balls.”
“Those the ones dipped in chocolate?”
“Yep. The first time she sent them to me at university, I made myself sick on them. I couldn’t stop.”
“You always did love peanut butter. You’d eat anything if it had a little bit of peanut butter on it. Even broccoli.”
“That’s disgusting.”
He chuckled. “You didn’t think so when you were a little thing. Still need that length of pipe.”
We never did go back to talking about the day he left Quincy for good. Once he’d repaired the pipe, he looked anxious to get back on the road and back to Paradise. Later, long after he’d gone, on my kitchen counter I found the map he’d drawn directing me to the hot spring. With it was a skeleton key. I held it in my hand feeling the metal grow warm in my palm.
In the quiet of my house, I walked to my bedroom and retrieved the doorknob Charlie had fixed. I slipped the key into the lock. When I turned it, the bolt poked out. I swallowed. Charlie had kept the key? Still disbelieving, I turned it again, housing the bolt. The hardware felt heavy in my hands. He’d left Shawneen. My room. My things. He’d left it all in the house he had fled. A little girl waiting in a truck. An angry father leaving without looking back, pocketing a key he’d never be able to use again. Yet he’d kept it all these years.
Lacey noticed it straightaway when she arrived for dinner. “He had the key after all?”
“He did.” All the things he’d told me about Shawneen tumbled out at once.
Lacey took me in her arms. “Knowing all that, you still put it on your bedroom door? It doesn’t creep you out?”
I’d thought about that. I considered installing it on the pantry or out in the barn, but it had called to me, so loudly Martha had heard it too. I couldn’t ignore that, and as I told Lacey, now I was the one with the key.
Chapter Thirty-One
Lacey
“What’s that smile for?” I asked Madison on the drive over to Chester Friday night. She sat next to me with her feet up on the dash of the Bug and her arms resting on her knees.
“I love this old car. Reminds me of Charlie’s ‘Love Machine.’”
“Do I want to know?”
She raised her hands as if to present herself as evidence.
“Is that why…” I stopped myself, but she knew my train of thought.
“I never straight out asked Charlie, but…”
The road’s curves had my full attention. When I risked glancing over at her, she was looking out the window.
“You okay over there?”
“Thinking about how he said he never meant to get Shawneen pregnant.”
I’d made the right call staying away from the ranch when Charlie was there fixing the irrigation. If I’d been there, she would have counted on me to do the talking. When she’d shown me the key, I could see that they had done some repairs on what was broken between them. Not everything, but a start. “There are plenty of unexpected pregnancies.”
She nodded. “And I suppose there are plenty of parents who give up their kids.”
“Heck yeah,” I said. “Be careful, Trevor will be trying to foist his two on you tonight for sure.”
“They can’t be as bad as you’ve described.”
“Don’t let your guard down,” I warned.
“I held my own with your game night group.”
“My friends play nice. My family are all trained pranksters, even the youngsters.”
“Still better than being a piece of work.”
There was quiet between us for a few minutes. “I’m sorry I said that about Shawneen.”
“Apparently you were right about her.”
“It doesn’t mean I’m not sorry. If I could take it back and change things, I would.”
“You like to fix things.”
“That I do. Too bad people aren’t as easy to figure out as cars.”
“No, they’re not,” she said, barely loud enough for me to hear. When I looked over, she was looking out the window.
* * *
My brother and his family must’ve lined up when they saw us pull up to their curb because when the door swung inward, they stood posed like a family portrait: Trevor with an arm wrapped around his wife, Iris, and a boy in front of each. The younger one had lost a few teeth since I’d last seen him and the older looked more grown up with his enormous adult teeth in his small head. Both sported shaggy hair that came with the end of a school year.
“Trevor, Iris, Bruno and Eric,” I said, ending on the six-year-old, “this is Madison.”
“She’s your girlfriend?” Bruno, eight, asked up front.
“Yes.”
“Are you going to marry her?” Eric followed up.
“Well, maybe you should invite us in first,” I suggested. I bent down to give the boys hugs. “And treat her nice. This is kind of like an interview to find out if she likes my family.” I stood to hug Trevor as well. “That goes for you too, mister.”
“Best behavior,” he said, ushering both of us into the house. He shook Madison’s hand. “Very nice to meet you. Lacey exaggerates about the fam
ily, by the way. Most of the stories she’s told were probably tricks that she pulled and is now blaming on us.”
“Lacey, come see my new remote control car!” Eric pleaded pulling her arm.
Iris shook Madison’s hand and asked what she’d like to drink.
“Should I stay?” I asked, one arm extended toward Eric’s door like a stretchy superhero. I was surprised to find how hard it was to hold my ground against someone half my size.
“I’m good,” Madison said as Iris directed her to the kitchen.
“Come ooooooon, Aunt Lacey.” I followed him to the end of the hall where he had the car and controls. “My turn first!”
“Of course.” I sat cross-legged next to him on the floor and watched him maneuver the toy car. “You looking forward to summer?”
“Yeah!” He launched into all of the activities he and his brother had planned. Knowing Iris, they had them written down, so she could remind them the second I’m bored passed their lips.
“Hey sport,” I said the moment he stopped for air. “I’m going to go get a drink too.”
“Okay,” he replied, still distracted by the car.
When I got to the kitchen, I found only Iris working on dinner. “Where’s Madison?”
“Bruno abducted her. They’re in the den with his new Lego set. She seems like a sweetheart.” She pulled ingredients from the fridge and checked whatever was boiling on the stove. “Trevor said you were down in the valley a few weeks ago. Did you take her to meet your parents?”
“Not yet. We stayed with hers.”
“That’s a first for you, isn’t it? Do you like them?”
Three of the four of them, I mused, but I didn’t want to get into all that. Sitting on the porch with Charlie and having coffee had been a highlight. I felt like I got him. “A lot,” I said simply.
“Are you ready for summer?”
“Not even close. I sure hope you’re up for some activities. I am not taking those boys to the lake by myself.”
I laughed knowing that she included my brother in that list of boys.
Iris never complained the way some women do about having just boys, but I sometimes sensed she missed having another girl around. She wore her almost-black hair long and always up in a new twist or complicated braid. The way she liked to show me styles I could try made me wonder if she would have liked a little girl to go shopping and talk fashion with.
Madison and Bruno were around the corner in the TV room. I could hear her asking Bruno about the Lego, but I didn’t hear my brother’s voice. The amount of time he’d been unaccounted for raised a red flag. “You need my help with anything?” I asked, even though I knew she would decline.
“I’ve got it. You can go rescue Madison.”
As I anticipated, Madison looked completely at home with Bruno in the center of a Lego island. “You seen your dad?”
“Out front.”
Closer to the garage than the front door, I poked my head in to see the garage door open. I slipped out and met Trevor crossing the lawn, a big smile on his face.
“You got the baby blue exactly right,” he said.
He crossed his arms over his chest, the spring evening turning cool, and turned back to look at the car. It was the same as I’d left it, and I knew I locked my doors. I patted my pocket to make sure I still had my keys. You don’t leave your doors unlocked or your keys accessible around my brothers. Chrystal learned that the hard way when she got blasted by baby powder someone had put in her vents. I always check to make sure my vents are off before I crank my engine.
“It looks good.” He smiled. I didn’t trust that smile. “You send a picture to Dad yet?”
“I texted him one right when she came back from the body shop.”
“What did he say?”
“‘Looks like the one I sold.’”
“Good thing you already knew how he’s not sentimental?”
“Yeah.” I already knew that I was alone in getting attached to cars and had spent some time swearing about the work I put into Shawneen’s Nova because I’d become emotionally involved with it. But then Charlie’s “Love Machine” came to mind, and I remembered how I’d connected Madison to the treasure box picture with that same truck. It had a history, and even if it was a complicated one, it was something that Charlie had hung onto. While I was proud of how far I’d brought my own Bug, it would never be the one my dad sold.
“You’re still looking for that old horn, aren’t you?”
“It’s the last thing.”
He chuckled at me. “C’mon. I was bringing the boys’ bikes in,” he said, turning back to the garage.
Had the bikes been out? I glanced again at my car before following him back into the house. Trevor had already joined Madison and Bruno on the floor, so I picked my way over to the couch, enjoying my family. Bruno dominated the conversation, explaining what Madison needed to do to build a plane that could land in the water and become a submarine.
Iris noticed how Madison pointedly said she’d wash her hands in the kids’ bathroom, so I confessed that I’d let her in on the water trick Trevor had perfected.
“We don’t want to scare you off,” Trevor said loudly enough for Madison to hear.
When she came back, Iris added, “Once they figure out you’re serious, watch out. I almost peed my pants when I found a mummified lizard in my crisper.”
“Just preparing you for parenthood,” Trevor said.
The evening hummed along, and I was glad to have brought Madison. We left the house hand in hand having given and received hugs all around before the boys bounded down the hall to get ready for bed.
Madison squeezed my hand before letting it go for me to walk around to the driver’s side. “I like your brother and his family.”
“Asshole!” I shouted before I could help myself.
“Excuse me?” Madison looked ashen.
I gestured her over to see the car from my side, the Bug up on the jack and front tire nowhere in sight.
“Where’s your tire?” Madison asked, astonished.
I narrowed my gaze toward the house where I knew Trevor was watching. I heard laughter and then a window slam. “If he was feeling nice, he stowed it in the car.” I lifted the Bug’s hood and sighed with relief to find the tire and tools waiting for me.
“Aunt Lacey, Aunt Lacey, what are you doing?” The boys burst through the door, the big one wearing jammy bottoms, the little one in nothing but his tightie whities. “Dad says you need a lantern.”
I intercepted Eric as he chased his brother with a lantern which was more likely to clock his brother than help me see what I was doing.
“Boys, back inside,” Iris called. “We still need to brush teeth.”
“We’re helping Aunt Lacey,” Bruno said, climbing into my car. His brother followed.
“Out of the car.”
“But it’s cool,” Eric whined.
“Aunt Lacey will drive you around next time but only if you get out. Right. Now.”
“Do you get stories before bed?” Madison asked.
“I can read now,” Eric shared.
“How about you read me a story while Lacey gets the car fixed,” Madison suggested. Both boys tore up to the house to find books. A very thankful looking Iris linked arms with Madison. It only took a matter of minutes to get the lug nuts secured and tools stowed away. I washed up as Madison finished the stories and collected another set of hugs from the boys.
“This was really fun for me,” Madison ventured as we pulled away.
“We’ll see what you think when they pull something like this on you.”
“I think I’ll say the same thing,” she whispered.
I reached over and found her hand. Her answer surprised me until I considered it from her perspective. For the outsider, it would be an initiation. In that way, I could see how tonight’s display was already a welcome to the family.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Madison
Ruth’s cu
rtains lay in a puddle by the front door as if Shawneen had a plan to haul them to the trash on her way out. As she bustled about getting her “perfect” curtains, I retrieved Ruth’s wondering why I had opened the door. I wasn’t ready to see Shawneen after what Charlie had told me and had canceled breakfast with her. She was the last person I’d expected to see when the doorbell sounded. Without invitation, she’d crossed the threshold, ushering in a man I didn’t know, his arms laden with bags.
“Now I have the receipts for these if you need them. If you love them, and, oh, aren’t they just the thing? Well then, you know how much to reimburse me.”
They were dark. The bold multicolored geometric patterns were far better suited for a motel in Phoenix where the goal is to block out the sun. I couldn’t form the words to say how absolutely they did not speak to me. And would she expect me to pad the amount for her time? When Ruth had volunteered to sew curtains, I assured her that I would pay for the material. She was very clear about the materials and time being her contribution to my business venture. I hadn’t told Shawneen that I wanted her to be on the lookout for anything. But then, I hadn’t shared how much I loved Ruth’s curtains when she had criticized them. I draped them carefully over the back of the couch aware of the hours Ruth had spent ironing them for me.
How had I allowed this to happen? Shawneen’s curtains were out of the package before my brain even comprehended what they were. And now they were about to be hung. Shawneen and a straw-hat-holding boy I prayed wasn’t Dennis held them up for me to see. The thought that she could be dating someone my age made me feel sick, but the story Charlie had told me about her leaving me at gymnastics to carry on with a guy made me think it was entirely possible.
“Oh, where are my manners? I was so excited about these curtains I didn’t introduce you. Hagen Weaver, this is my daughter, Madison.”
Flustered by her introduction, I shook hands with the immaculately pressed cowboy as she prattled on about the multiple properties Hagen’s parents owned. I’d waited a long time to hear someone claim me with the words “this is my daughter,” and yet they felt so wrong. She wasn’t matching up to the woman I’d dreamed about. Part of me wanted to turn the two of them around and march them out of my house, but the four-year-old me wanted to know if Shawneen had any remorse. The way she’d reacted when Lacey told her who I was made me think that she regretted losing Charlie and me.
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