Sunflowers

by Melodie Starkey

  “She came home and dropped a whole bottle of Xanax. Fortunately, Chloe wanted a ride from her and tried to wake her up, then called 911.”

  Gus stood up. “When did this happen? Is she gonna be okay?”

  “Been about ten days now, I guess. She’s okay. They’re holding onto her a bit longer for psych reasons. Sorry I didn’t tell you over the phone. Didn’t get over here sooner. Cathy has her cell. She’s been deleting all your messages without playing them. When we were visiting this weekend, Maureen sent Cathy out to get her some ice cream, then she told me about Sam starting school today—how she was worried. Gave me her email password and asked me to print her emails cause they won’t let her access them.”

  He exhaled audibly. “What am I going to tell him?” He sat back down. “When’ll she be out? Any idea?”

  “Maybe next week. Here; I got you her doctor’s information. Thought you might want to talk to her about tellin’ Sam and all.”

  “Excellent. I really appreciate this. Your doing this.”

  “Sure. We outsiders got to stick together around that clan, right?”

  “You got that right. Like poking a pit of rattlesnakes if you make them angry.”

  “I saw how they acted when she told them she was coming over here to see her boy. Like they thought a SWAT team should accompany her to hold you at bay.”

  “You heard I tossed her to the wolves, right?”

  “For getting pregnant, yeah.”

  “Mm. Only problem was, I didn’t know she was pregnant. I told her to leave because she threw my laptop through my television. Besides, I knew Cathy’d take her right in; it wasn’t like I figured she’d be homeless. But of course it was all my fault.” He sighed. “You’re right. Probably ought not to take sides. It’s entirely possible all Tim really said to her was ‘let’s stay friends.’”

  The doorbell rang again. As he got up to answer it he smiled, imagining the reaction of the gang if Dave told them about Sarah. “I’ll be right back.”

  “You expectin’ company?” Dave followed him. “I need to be running along. Got to get on into work.”

  “Okay. Thanks again for coming by. Letting me know. I was getting pretty worried. Here—let me introduce you to my friend first.” He opened the door and smiled at Sarah, who was looking a little hesitant because of the extra car in the drive. “Hey. Come on in. I’d like you to meet someone. This is my friend, Dave. Dave, Sarah Wexler.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss.” He shook her hand. “I was just on my way—no rest for the wicked.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  He turned to Gus. “I’ll try to keep you in the loop. I’m gonna take those photos over tonight.”

  “That’d be great. Thanks. Thanks for everything.” Gus shook his hand, then waved as he hurried out.

  “Private eye?” Sarah asked.

  “Huh?”

  “Is he a private eye?”

  He grinned. “He sells recreational vehicles. I figured now that they’re in school the boys need ATVs. What do you think?” At her scowl he led her in, then said, “He was here about Maureen. That’s her sister’s boyfriend. He knows they hate me, so for Sam’s sake he wanted to let me know what’s up.”

  “Really? So what is up?”

  “I don’t know about the job quitting thing, but he said she got in a fight with her ex, and ended up taking too many pills. She’s in the hospital.”

  “Oh, wow! Are you going to go see her?”

  “Doubt I could. You have no idea how much these people hate me. They’ve been deleting my phone messages. Not letting her see my email. They aren’t going to let me get involved. That’s why Dave came by; so at least I’d stop worrying where she was.” He shrugged then. “Did you eat? I feel like pancakes.”

  She grinned. “With whipping cream?”

  “How can you make pancakes sound naughty?”

  Chapter 39

  Hi Gus,

  I’m doing this “Reclaiming Maureen” thing where I write these letters to everyone who has ever hurt me and let them have it. The theory is, if you let it out, it stops eating at you from within. We’ll see.

  It’s funny: I was able to write whole testaments to my sister and my parents, who claim they have always only tried to do what was best for me. Then there were the girls who tormented me in junior high, and the football player who told everyone I was a slut when I refused to let him deflower me, and that guy in college who finally did. My third grade teacher, who made the whole class laugh at me when she told me to stop looking out the window because being pretty wasn’t always going to “work” for me.

  Of course Tim. That was a funny one. Because he’s not a bad guy (even though he’s a lawyer). It was my fault that I put him in the position that I did, and he was lucky to find out before it was a career buster. He acted like a bit of a dick, but I completely overreacted with my usual largesse.

  So, here we are, down to you. If Cathy knew I’d saved you for last, she’d say “the root of all evil.”

  The real reason I’ve saved you for last is I keep having a really hard time thinking of things to blame you for. Okay, you knocked me up, but look! We got Sam! He’s so incredible, and I know that is completely your doing. So how can I lambaste you? I always come up with just two things I need to tell you: I’m sorry and thank you. And neither of those could ever be adequate enough to make you understand how much I mean them.

  And the other reason I’ve saved you for last is I want to tell you something that I am so afraid to tell you and could never say to your face after everything.

  I love you.

  I loved you so much, right from the start. And I think back then you felt it, too. But then I started crowding you and trying to “fix” you, and that ruined everything. I knew I was approaching it all wrong, but I’d get so frustrated and then I’d just wind up. Well, I don’t need to tell you.

  I’m not trying to guilt you or squeeze pity from you or anything. But I needed you to know. Because I so want to be with my son, and it’s especially nice if you’re there, too. But I don’t want to intrude on your personal life otherwise.

  So let me just ask you to file this in your memory but never mention it again, and if they ever let me come home, please don’t kiss me anymore. What’s not intended sometimes hurts as much as what is.

  Love,

  Maureen

  My Darling Sammy,

  I am so sorry I haven’t answered your emails and calls, and I am devastated that I missed your first day of school. Will you ever forgive me?

  I’m afraid it is going to be a few more weeks before I can see you again, although Kristen was telling me the schools have open house in the beginning of October. Ask Daddy if he might let me come along to that, okay?

  The reason I have been gone is that I have been sick. But I am getting better every day, so don’t worry about me. You just worry about having a great school year, and keeping that lovely bicycle in top form so you can show it off for me soon, okay?

  I love you so much!

  Hugs for Daddy, Jordan, and Frodo, too,

  Love,

  Mommy

  Chapter 40

  As Sarah was gathering her purse and sweater, Gus suggested casually, “I’m not housebound. I feel kinda bad that you drive all the way out here every week. I can drive in…”

  “Nonsense!” She cut him off quickly. “Driving out here—getting away from all that—is half the adventure. Do you know on Tuesdays people ask me if I’ve had a spa day?”

  “Maybe it’s all that sweat we work up,” he suggested.

  “That must be it. Opens the pores. I’d been thinking it was the fresh air and change of scenery.”

  “Ouch.”

  She giggled and kissed him, murmuring, “See you next week.”

  And suddenly he felt a wave of anger wash over him. He kept it off his face as he walked her as far as the door and then waited for the car to start backing out of the driveway before closing it. What if he wa
s just not here next Monday? Damn shame if she drove all the way out here for her weekly service and the stud was out of the barn. But the fresh air would do her good. And he suspected she’d find a replacement easily enough.

  During the summer he had actually enjoyed her visits, which were mostly platonic by virtue of little boys running through the house at all times. Occasionally Jordan’s family or his parents would have Sam for the day, and they would have some privacy for sex, but mostly it was just shooting the breeze and relaxing.

  Since the Fall term had begun, though, she never came out for social visits any more—just her Monday morning service calls. She never asked about Maureen, so he didn’t volunteer what little he knew. She never talked about her own personal life other than to sometimes complain about a student or an annoying colleague. It was like when they had first met, and he was beginning to find it just as tiring.

  Or maybe it was just that he really couldn’t get his mind to focus on anything except Maureen. Tonight they were seeing her for the first time since she got out of the hospital. She was coming over at five to have dinner, and then they were attending open house as a family. Sam was thrilled at the prospect; all Gus could do was pray everything went off okay. Or at all. He sighed and headed to his room to change the linens.

  Sam was so wound up about Maureen’s impending arrival that Gus finally decided a lie-down was in order. He called Craig to come fetch Jordan, then pulled back the comforter and had Sam crawl into bed next to him so they could practice being calm. It worked for almost three minutes.

  “Can I show Mommy my bike?”

  “Yes. Rest now.”

  “‘Kay.”

  Some squirming, followed by, “Is she sick?”

  “She’s doing better now.”

  “I wish Mommy lived here, too.”

  “Don’t tell her that though.”

  Sam sighed. Then, seemingly out of the blue, he said, “Was Sarah here today?”

  “Why do you ask that?” Gus answered as neutrally as possible.

  “She left it in the living room.”

  Gus raised his head. “What’re you talking about? Left what?”

  “That book. You know. She usually has it, and the pages is always lookin’ like they’re fallin’ out.”

  He did know. He’d made fun of her for being the only person in America with a Day-Planner still instead of a handheld device. She was probably panicking that it was gone. “I’d better call her. Tell her it’s here.”

  “‘Kay. But she can’t come over. Not tonight.”

  Gus smiled. “No. I’ll tell her not tonight. If she needs it, I can take it to her at work tomorrow while you’re in school, okay?”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now while I call her, you practice being a log, deal?”

  “What’s a log do?”

  “Lies in one place without a sound.”

  Sam giggled. “I’m glad I’m not a log!”

  Gus kissed his nose, then climbed out of bed, deciding to have this conversation out of hearing range, just in case.

  “’Lo?” she answered on the second ring. “Gus?”

  “Hey.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No. We’re fine. You missing anything?”

  “Missing…?”

  “Clue: it’s not a Blackberry.”

  “Oh my god! Is it there?”

  “It’s here. Sam noticed it.”

  “Tell him thank you! Tell him I owe him a kidney!”

  “I think I’ll leave that part off. You need it back soon?”

  “Well…”

  “I’m supposed to tell you absolutely not tonight. But I can give it to the neighbors if it’s an emergency.”

  “Plans?”

  “His mom.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. We’re going to a school function. So can I bring it out to you this week sometime? Leave it at your office or something?”

  “Uh, how ‘bout if I come by after work Friday. I can live without it until then if I know where it is. No need for you to drive in.”

  He slid his teeth together, wanting to say and embarrass you? Instead he only answered, “Okay. See you Friday then. Bye.” He hung up without waiting for her reply. Either he was going to have to confront her about this soon, or just start making himself unavailable so she got the hint. The latter was more typical of him, but he knew the former was the better option. He called his parents’ number.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Gus! How’s our li’l tiger doing?”

  “He’s good. He’s seeing his mom tonight, so he’s a bit keyed up.”

  The older man clicked his tongue. “Don’t envy you that. Here’s your mom.”

  “Gus? Is my baby okay?”

  “He’s fine. We’re going to Open House pretty soon at the school.”

  “I remember those! Too bad his mother isn’t there…”

  “She’s going with us.”

  “I see.” Her voice flattened. “How nice.”

  “We’ve only seen her once since I brought her out to meet you. He’s pretty excited about this.”

  “He needs a mother.”

  “He has a mother.”

  “You know what I mean. Full time. Children need two parents.”

  “I’m doing my best, Mom.”

  “I’m not criticizing you, August. But maybe a mother could help you set boundaries.”

  “Now you sound like Liz.”

  “Hush or I’ll bring you some cabbage rolls.”

  He chuckled.

  “What about that woman who was over there this summer? Are you seeing her, then?”

  “Off and on. Nothing serious.”

  “Sam likes her though, doesn’t he?”

  “Sam is very attached to his mother. Doesn’t want to replace her. Now ask me why I called so I can impose on you.”

  “What day?”

  “Friday?”

  “Overnight or just in the evening?”

  “I can come back for him.”

  “Nonsense. I have baking he can help me with. Pick him up Saturday afternoon.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  After hanging up, he retrieved Sarah’s book from the living room and set it on his desk, then headed back to the bedroom. Sam didn’t stir. He sat down on the bed gently—still nothing. He smoothed the boy’s hair back, then stretched out next to him. Lots of children grew up fine with only one parent, right? It wasn’t like they were struggling financially or he was away at work all day. If Atticus Finch could do it, so could he. This made him smile. He closed his eyes.

  “You aren’t gonna marry her, are you?”

  His eyes snapped back open. Sam was leaning directly over his face.

  “I thought you were asleep.”

  “I was bein’ a log. It’s boring. You aren’t goin’ to marry Sarah, are you?”

  “No. Why?”

  “She’s nice. But I think if you married her, Mommy wouldn’t come see me any more.”

  Gus reached up and pulled the boy into a hug. “No Sarah. Really. But even if I do ever marry someone, it will be with the understanding that you already have a mommy and they can’t interfere with that, okay? Speaking of, she’s going to be here soon. Jump up and get a clean shirt, okay?”

  “Yes!” Sam leapt off the bed.

  Gus looked out at 5 p.m. to see, not Maureen’s MG, but a black Escalade pull into the drive. Cathy. He groaned. While he was glaring at Cathy coming up the walk, Sam pushed past him and ran out to Maureen, shouting, “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!”

  Maureen swooped him into her arms for kissing, then carried him into the open garage to retrieve his bike.

  “Can I see your invitation?” Gus asked Cathy.

  “Piss off. She’s not supposed to drive.”

  “I could’ve come to pick her up.”

  “I wanted to make sure I could find this place if I needed to.”

  “You won’t.”r />
  “I’ll be back to pick her up at nine.”

  “I’ll bring her home.”

  “Nine.”

  “Leave.”

  She turned her back on him, but stood where she was, watching Sam and Maureen. Finally Sam rode to a stop in front of her. “Do you like my bike, Aunt Cathy?”

  “I do! And you ride just like a pro. You’re so grown up!”

  “I’m gonnta be six next week. Are you comin’ to my party?”

  She looked back over her shoulder at Gus, then said, “I hope so. You guys have a great evening, okay?”

  “Thank you!” He took off again.

  Cathy gave Gus one last castrating look, then crossed to Maureen for a quick hug before leaving. When she was finally gone, Maureen approached, averting her eyes. “Hey.”

  He smiled. “Hey. You look real good.”

  “Always was my strong suit.”

  “I meant healthy,” he qualified.

  “Sure you did.” But she met his eyes and smiled.

  “Where do you want to go for dinner? We probably ought to get going before too long.”

  Her smile widened. “You’re not cooking for me?”

  “Not unless you want to wash dishes.”

  “Well, I hear the Red Lobster has amazing dipping sauce for shrimp.”

  “Promise me you will not stick any shrimp in a cup of salad dressing.”

  “I hate shrimp. But I really love cheese biscuits.”

  “Sold. Let me get Frodo in. Need to use the bathroom or anything?”

  “I’m good.”

  He turned and called, “Hey, Shorty, Mommy wants to go to Red Lobster. Get your bike put away now.”

  He trusted her with tending Sam while he cut through the house to let Frodo in from his nap under the patio table. He lingered at the sliding door, listening to her greet Frodo, listening to Sam’s chatter and her soft replies. Once she had used that voice with him, rubbing his temples when his head ached or cuddling against him in the dark or just leaning over to kiss his cheek in the car. How had he not seen the change, not questioned it? Instead of just giving up on her, he could have talked her into counseling; could have stuck by her.