by Skye Taylor
Mary Ellen hugged Meg back for a moment longer, then pushed free. Her mother’s expression took on a hint of apprehension. “I was wondering . . .” She glanced away, down at the sparkling jars, then out to Remy and his truck and finally back to Meg. “I was wondering if I could help with the Elf Workshop?”
“YOU ARE NOT going to believe it,” Meg announced as she strode into her brothers’ auto repair shop.
CJ looked up from the bench where he was tinkering with some intricate piece of automotive machinery. “Hey, Brat! I’m not gonna believe what?”
“When was the last time you were down at Mom’s trailer? Or maybe I should ask when was the last time you saw her?”
“Not in a while.” He had the grace to look ashamed. “I haven’t been avoiding her, but just—Why?”
“Then you didn’t repair the railing on her front steps?” Meg had assumed it was CJ or maybe Stu who’d done it, but maybe she’d been wrong.
CJ shook his head. “Hey, Stu?” he raised his voice and called out to their brother.
The legs sticking out from under a late model Chrysler bent, heels digging against the cement floor. Stu and his creeper inched their way out from under the car. “Yeah?”
“You haven’t been over to Mom’s lately, have you?”
Stu shook his head. “Nope. Probably should check up on her though. Why?” He sat up and scratched his head. “Something wrong?”
Both brothers looked at Meg.
“Not unless you call taking in an AA meeting something wrong.”
Stu and CJ both gaped at Meg. She knew exactly how they felt.
“The trailer has been cleaned up, too. And she was sober this morning.”
Stu got to his feet and reached for a rag to wipe his hands on.
“Praise God,” CJ muttered, his voice still registering shocked disbelief.
Stu crossed the floor toward them. “I’m not gonna hug you. I’m a mess.” He glanced at his hand. “Not even gonna offer you my hand. Are you kidding about Mom?”
Meg shook her head. “I wouldn’t kid you about a thing like that.” She hesitated, then said, “Remy’s back. Now don’t get in a lather, CJ. I think maybe he’s the reason behind the AA meeting. And the clean trailer. And being sober.”
“Mom’s really sober?” Stu still struggled with disbelief.
“For today, anyway. And she asked if she could help out with my Elf Workshop at the church fair on Saturday.”
CJ studied Meg with a worried question in his brown eyes. “How are you with McAllister being back?”
Meg thought about her answer. Too many conflicting thoughts racing through her head left her not really sure how she felt about it. “If he’s the reason Mom has suddenly decided to get sober, then I guess I’m good with it.” That much was certainly true. So long as the man kept his hands off Meg, she could deal with it. The leering she’d already come to terms with, and she was determined not to let herself get sucked back into the past with all that doubt and bad karma.
CJ continued to gaze at Meg thoughtfully.
“I’m all grown up now, CJ. He can’t hurt me anymore.”
CJ’s shoulders relaxed. But then he shook a finger at her. “Just so long as you promise to tell me about it if he starts anything this time.”
“The Marines taught me how to defend myself. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Trust me.”
THE MARINES HAD taught her how to defend herself and so much more. But they hadn’t taught her how to find her way back to living the life of a civilian. It seemed like everyone was pulling their lives back together except her.
Captain Bissett had finished his rehab and would be headed back to active duty soon. Ron had his dog and a job and had found his way back into society. Her mother, with or without Remy’s help, had finally admitted she had a drinking problem and sought help. Meg’s brother-in-law had found the courage to love again and had a new wife and a new daughter.
It wasn’t that Meg lacked courage. She had plenty of that. And she didn’t have an injury to overcome. She couldn’t claim PTSD either. She just had a short fuse and a too-short list of things she wanted to do with her life.
Maybe she should consider getting pregnant again. Ben wanted another child, and she loved her boys. But what if that still wasn’t enough?
“I just don’t know.” Meg thumped the steering wheel in frustration.
Someone thumped on the car door. Meg jerked in her seat. Her heart raced into the red zone again. She looked out the window.
Evan stood there dressed in a yellow slicker and tall black rubber boots.
Meg opened the door and slid out. Her heart still pounded, but this time she was not going to take it out on her son.
“What’s up?” She squatted down to Evan’s level. “It’s not supposed to rain, is it?”
He produced a cheap plastic fireman’s hat from behind his back and plopped it on his head. “Is it okay if I’m a fireman like Daddy and Uncle Jake?”
“You make a very fine fireman. Daddy will be so proud.”
“And Uncle Jake, too?”
“And Uncle Jake, too.” Meg pulled Evan into her arms and gave him a hug. Then set him away and checked him out again. “But I think you could use a pair of turnout pants. And I think I know where we can find some.”
“Are they yellow like Daddy’s?”
“Yellow. Just like Daddy’s.” Meg took Evan by the hand and started for the house. “Let’s go see if we can find them.”
“I need a ticket, too.”
“A ticket?” Meg stopped and looked down at Evan in confusion. “What kind of ticket?”
“Like the one that hangs on the back of Daddy’s hat.”
“Ah!” Now she got it. “That’s called an ID. It’s so the fire chief knows exactly which firemen he needs to take special care of when they are busy helping to put out a fire. And I’m sure we can make you one for your hat. Come on, race you to the house.”
Evan took off, clumping along as fast as he could with the oversized black boots. Where had those boots come from? They were clearly not Evan’s. Had Rick worn them last year while she was away and already grown out of them? Another stab of regret. She had missed so much.
Chapter 17
MEG SHOVED A wayward strand of hair out of her eyes and bent closer to help the little boy glue his design onto his jar.
“It’s an angel,” Danny informed her as they worked.
Meg hoped Danny’s mother wouldn’t be required to guess what the random series of punctures was supposed to represent. The boy had chosen black construction paper to depict the night sky, and Meg had assumed the arrangement of holes were just stars.
“Mom loves angels,” Danny rattled on, daubing twice as much glue as required onto his creation. “She says they’re God’s messengers, and they bring good news. She says they talk to her at night sometimes. That’s why I wanted my lumiary to look like night time.”
“Luminary,” Meg corrected. That explained the black paper! Too bad the voices that spoke to Meg at night weren’t all just angels bearing good news.
Halloween night had been nothing but fun for Evan and Rick. Excited about the very real-looking ID Meg had created to go with his costume, Evan had made a point of showing it off to anyone with a moment to spend listening to his explanation of what it was for. Rick, in ragged cut-offs and a red bandana with a black patch over one eye, had greeted everyone with a fierce sounding “Arrrgggghhh” while brandishing his foil-covered cardboard sword. And of course, both boys had been filled with satisfaction over the heavy sacks of booty they’d hauled home from their night on the town.
But for Meg and Kip, the night of pranks and trick-or-treating had been a waking nightmare. Every knock at the door sent a totally unreasonable frisson of panic running up Meg’s spine
. Kip didn’t seem distressed about the raps on the door or the giggling children who stood on the other side when the door got opened, but he followed Meg everywhere as if tethered by a very short leash. His nose nearly touched her thigh at every step. Meg had no idea why he was so nervous.
Maybe she should have let Ben stay home to man the door, and she should have accompanied Evan and Rick on their rounds. But the unreasoning panic that greeted the idea when they’d discussed who went and who stayed had been hard to hide. Just the thought of working her way down dark streets with kids dressed up in ghoulish costumes leaping out of dark places without warning had brought on rivers of sweat and alarm. She’d elected to stay home and let Ben go out with the boys.
She’d lived through the evening, but sleep hadn’t come easily and when it did, she’d been disturbed by hellish dreams.
Kids lurking behind trees intent on scaring their younger siblings had become kids lurking in alleys committed to tossing deadly things at unwary soldiers. Every scene of carnage Meg had witnessed in Iraq had been relived and quite a few more created by her fertile and frightened brain. She’d ended up getting out of bed and prowling the house before finally curling into the corner of the sofa with Kip sitting sentry at her side. Until Ben had come looking for her.
What’dya think, Mrs. Cameron?” Danny’s question brought Meg back to the here and now in her Elf Workshop. Danny held up his sticky creation. “I think my mom is going to love it.”
Meg shut off the disturbing memories and admired Danny’s efforts.
“I’m sure she will. Why don’t you set it here to dry? You can go wash your hands, and by the time you get back it will be ready to wrap up. Okay?”
“Okay,” Danny agreed. He carefully set his luminary at the back of the table where it couldn’t fall off. Then, unexpectedly, he wrapped his arms about her middle and gave her a hug. “I love you, Mrs. Cameron.” Then he was off running down the hall to the men’s room to wash up.
Meg sank down onto a chair and surveyed the mess that needed cleaning up. Bits and pieces of construction paper in all hues littered the table and floor. The bag that had once bulged with tea lights was nearly empty, and only three of her mother’s jars remained. Scissors and paste and crayons lay scattered across the child-sized tables that had been her Elf’s Workshop.
Her mother had been an unexpected blessing. Mary Ellen had arrived sober and eager to help. And considering the popularity of the workshop, those extra hands had been a Godsend. Remy had come by to collect Mary Ellen a half hour earlier. They had a date, her mother had whispered, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Meg had hugged her mother and told her to have a good time. What a world of difference Remy had made in her mother’s life this time around.
If only Mary Ellen had come to this junction in life when Bobby had begged her to get help, what a difference that would have made in Meg’s life. But that was water over the dam. Meg wasn’t going to waste energy wishing for things she couldn’t change. She was just going to be thankful for any good going forward.
Lurking uncomfortably at the back of Meg’s mind was the question, what if she hadn’t been such a distraction the first time Remy came into Mary Ellen’s life? Would her mother have faced her addiction and turned her life around fifteen years ago if CJ hadn’t demanded that Remy leave after he’d groped Meg that night in the kitchen? Had Meg robbed her mother of all those years without ever knowing?
“Hey, Chuck. Didn’t expect to see you here. Where have you been hiding?” Ben’s voice came unexpectedly from the other side of the fabric-covered room dividers, jerking Meg out of her troubled thoughts.
“Didn’t expect to be here,” Chuck replied. “Anne insisted. She wanted an excuse to see you.”
“Anne doesn’t need an excuse to see me.” Ben’s voice faded out as if he’d turned to face the other way, perhaps searching the hall for Anne.
Anne didn’t need an excuse to see Ben? Hadn’t Ben told her as recently as last week that he’d been avoiding Anne Royko? What was going on?
“She said you’ve been avoiding her,” Chuck echoed Meg’s thoughts.
Ben’s voice was an undistinguishable mumble.
“I don’t think she ever forgave herself for—” Chuck coughed. Ben must be thumping him on the back judging by the sounds. Meg didn’t hear the rest of what Chuck said between clearing his throat and Ben’s helpful whacks.
“Well, I forgave her. She did me a big favor . . .” Ben’s voice faded again.
Danny returned, his hands still damp. “Can I wrap it now?”
Reluctantly, Meg turned to help the boy choose the paper he wanted and wrap the luminary for his mother. Danny chatted happily, but Meg’s brain kept sorting through the odd bits of conversation she’d overheard, trying to make sense of it.
Anne Royko wanted an excuse to see Ben? And Ben said she didn’t need an excuse. He’d also said he forgave the woman. But for what? What was going on between Anne Royko and Ben?
First she’d found out Ben had handed over her totes and the Elf Workshop project without apparently any hesitation. Then he hadn’t asked for the totes back because he didn’t want the woman in the house? Why? Meg could have sworn Ben had been on the level with her about the whole thing. She could have sworn he’d never been unfaithful to her either. Was there a side to Ben she had never seen?
“Thanks, Mrs. Cameron.” Danny gave Meg another hug and then headed for the archway leading out of the workshop with his awkwardly wrapped bundle held tight in his arms.
Meg looked at her watch. Only a few minutes until the fair was set to wind down and clean up would begin. The likelihood of any more children showing up was slim, so Meg began to gather up the mess.
The luminaries had been a huge success. The children had been thrilled with the idea and had trooped through her workshop in droves, leaving a whirlwind of debris behind. Meg stepped out of the workshop area to grab a fresh trash can liner. Ben and Chuck were seated on one of the old pews that had been relegated to the hall when the new ones were installed inside the church a couple years back.
Ben lounged back against the wall with one foot balanced on his other knee. Chuck hunched over with his hands between his knees and his head down. Ben had one hand on his friend’s shoulder and was talking, gesturing frequently with his free hand.
Forgetting where she’d been headed, Meg watched the earnest conversation. Were they still discussing Chuck’s sister Anne? Or something else? With jerky haste, Chuck brought one hand up and dashed it across his face as if erasing tears.
Meg’s heart suddenly hurt. It took something serious to make a man like Chuck Royko cry. Chuck had been a Special Forces soldier for almost fifteen years before leaving the Army the previous year due to repeated injuries. He was one of the toughest men Meg knew.
Ben dropped his foot to the floor and gripped his friend’s shoulder more firmly. After another long comment punctuated with more hand gestures, Chuck looked up at Ben and smiled. Meg’s heart relaxed. Chuck said something that made Ben laugh. Then the two men got to their feet and wandered off to the table that held what remained of the baked goods sale.
Meg remembered her mission and crossed the room to get the plastic bag she needed to finish cleaning up the craft mess in her workshop area. As she stowed scissors, crayons, and leftover construction paper in the bright blue tote, she kept replaying Chuck’s angry gesture in her mind. Didn’t seem likely it was woman trouble. He’d been as close to engaged as possible before his last deployment, and Georgia had been the first person he’d seen when he woke up at Walter Reed. Couldn’t be his latest injury. He’d been home too long, and the last surgery had been more than a year earlier. And it probably wasn’t Anne. Chuck was a caring brother, but his tone of voice as he’d told Ben why he was here carried more humorous resignation than distress.
“You about ready to head on home?” Ben
stood, head bent beneath the arch to her workshop. He took another step inside and straightened. “I’ll carry that out for you.” He nodded at the now filled and closed tote.
“Drop this in the dumpster on your way by?” Meg handed him the bulging trash bag. “I’ve got to turn in the profits to Aunt Bea.” She held up the large manila envelope that held the proceeds of the workshop.
Ben hefted the tote onto one shoulder and grabbed the trash bag in his free hand.
“Where are the boys?” Meg hadn’t seen them all day. They had been Ben’s responsibility.
“Mom took them home for a sleepover. She planned to stop at the house to grab their church clothes and said she’d see us at mass in the morning.” Ben wagged his eyebrows at her. “A whole evening just for us.”
Ideas for a night without kids flitted through Meg’s head. But there had been some stiffness between her and Ben the last few days after her refusal to consider a second mortgage and then her blow up over the what-do-I-do-next discussion. And then there was the night she’d fallen asleep on Meredith’s couch and didn’t come home until two a.m.
Ben’s teasing look faded, and he frowned. “It was okay that I let the boys go, wasn’t it?”
Meg shook her head. “Don’t mind me. I’m just hungry and tired, I guess. A night alone with my favorite guy sounds wonderful.”
“We could start at Ethan’s. I’m in a mood for barbeque and you wouldn’t have to cook.”
Meg agreed to ribs, and Ben ducked back under the arch and disappeared.
Meg delivered the money to Aunt Bea and headed out to meet Ben in the parking lot. Her tote had been stowed in the back of Ben’s truck, but Ben wasn’t in sight. Meg turned slowly on her heel, searching for him among the straggle of cars still parked in the lot. Then she spotted him, bent at the waist with his palms resting on the open window frame of a sleek blue BMW.
Seated in the driver’s seat, Anne Royko had her head tipped back, looking up at Ben with heavy lidded eyes and a teasing smile. She said something, and Ben bent toward her, turning his head as if to hear better.