“He had on my socks again.”
She eyed the wine, intentionally avoiding her husband’s gaze. “He had on your socks again?”
“Yep. I know they were mine too because I put my initials on them, and when I saw him with them on, I asked him to take them off.”
“Did he?”
“Yep. But he sort of tossed them into the middle of the floor.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Kat! What are you going to do about this?”
“I guess he needs new socks. I’ll get him some.”
“No. He needs to respect me and not take my things. And Brian? I had to ask him four times to take out the trash yesterday. Four times.”
“He’s fourteen.”
“But four times?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Consequences, Kat. Those boys need consequences or they won’t get anywhere in life. They won’t. You have to give them boundaries and expectations.” He crossed his arms.
“I will talk to them, but right now I think we both have jobs to do.”
He nodded, seemingly somewhat satisfied.
Kat had learned that blended families were nearly impossible. Marriage to Christian had not been what she thought it would be when she accepted his proposal. That night out on a sailboat that he’d borrowed from a buddy, with the gourmet food, good wine, and beautiful flowers, it hadn’t occurred to her that things might be anything but smooth sailing for the two of them. She hadn’t thought that the kids might be a problem.
There was no love lost between the three boys in her life. They weren’t ever mean to each other—there was no yelling or anything like that. But from Christian, it was these daily jabs that made her feel like she sucked as a mother, and from the boys it was constant questions as to why Christian was such a jerk to them. Many nights she’d lied awake wondering why she put up with it.
She put on a smile and walked back out to Alyssa and Danielle’s table. Opening the wine, Danielle, who read people like a book said, “You okay, hon?”
“Perfect. I am absolutely perfect.” She poured their wine, maintaining grace and her smile, knowing that if she told everyone else that lie long enough, then she might start to believe it too.
CHAPTER NINE
Danielle
Danielle sat next to Shannon in the doctor’s waiting room. How surreal and strange to be seated next to your twenty-one-year-old pregnant, unmarried daughter. And yet, why was that so? Twenty-one-year-old women got pregnant all the time and many of them were unmarried. The thing was that none of those other women were Danielle’s daughter.
Shannon didn’t want her to come. Danielle practically had to beg to join her. They sat quietly flipping through women’s magazines and trying hard not to act tense inside the waiting room filled with women in various states of pregnancy. All Danielle wanted to do was hold Shannon’s hand, make her little again. Start all over. Wouldn’t it be great to have a start over button, one you could pull out of your purse and as things got screwy in life, press the button and voila—take a trip through time and make some changes? But what would she change and how would she change it? So many things. But would the outcome be different? Who knew? It was all philosophy and silly banter playing in her mind while seated next to her unmarried twenty-one-year–old pregnant daughter.
Danielle knew they needed to talk—really talk—about what was happening. Their talks had been fairly benign thus far. Any time Danielle tried to bring up the idea of adoption or contacting the father in Italy, or what Shannon’s plan for the future might entail, it turned out the same way—Shannon either in tears or simply stating that she didn’t want to talk about it. For the past few days, Danielle stuck to topics like the wine she was making, and what was happening on Grey’s Anatomy, and even the weather. Talk about surreal! They’d talked about the weather as if they were strangers, not mother and daughter. How had all this happened? They used to be so close. They talked about everything under the sun. Danielle didn’t outwardly admit that she had a favorite child. She didn’t. Not really. But the bond between her and her oldest child was special. Unbreakable, so she’d thought. Cassie had always been loud, a bit pushy and obstinate and one to rebel. Not Shannon. She’d been a mommy’s girl from day one, so much in common, so open with one another. And now—they talked about the damn weather.
But dammit, they did need to talk about it. They really did. This was not going away. There was a baby growing inside of her daughter and they had to talk about it. Maybe today after the doctor’s appointment, she’d take Shannon to lunch and they could sit down and discuss things like rational adults.
“How did you find this Dr. Fry, honey?”
“I asked for a referral from my doctor back East and he searched around for me and gave me this guy’s name. But when I called they said I’d be seeing a different doctor. I don’t know, something about the practice being sold.”
“It’s good that you’ve been seeing a doctor regularly.”
Shannon looked at her mother as if to say, do you think I am an idiot? Just as she opened her mouth to probably say this exact sentiment, her name was called. Danielle stood up to go in with her. Shannon looked back at her. “I’m a big girl now, Mom.”
Danielle looked down and bit her lip, forcing back tears. Yes, she was a big girl now, wasn’t she? “I know, honey, I really wanted to come in and maybe hear the baby’s heartbeat.”
Shannon paused and then reached for her hand. “I’m sorry, Mom. Come on.”
A few moments later, in the patient room with the smell of antiseptic and the temperature set at freezing, Shannon wore the paper gown and thin blanket. Danielle sat in the chair against the wall behind the door, pretending to read an article about holistic health pros and cons.
A knock at the door signaled the doctor’s arrival. His back was to Danielle as he entered. He was tall with graying hair. He shook Shannon’s hand and introduced himself. He then turned around. Danielle reached out her hand to shake his and as he did so in kind, he caught himself. “Danielle Peters?”
“Mark?”
“You two know each other?” Shannon asked.
Danielle knew she was blushing. “Yes. From high school. I’d heard you became a doctor. But I thought you moved to Washington, D.C.”
He nodded. “I did. I’ve only been back for a few months. Divorce. I bought the practice here from Dr. Fry.”
“That’s great. Gosh. It’s been a long time.”
“It’s really great to see you.”
Shannon cleared her throat. Mark…Dr. Murphy turned to Shannon. “I’m sorry. It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen your mom. You are her mom, right?”
Danielle nodded.
“Hey, I have a great idea, why don’t the two of you go out for coffee and catch up? Right now, I’d kind of like to, you know, get this over with.”
He turned from Danielle to Shannon and changed his tone. “Of course. My apologies. So, feeling good? Any problems?”
“No problems. I feel fine,” Shannon replied.
“Good. I’ve gone over your chart and have spoken with your doctor back East and we agree on the protocol he had going with you.”
“Good,” Shannon said. “I feel great and on board with the protocol and very sure of what I’m doing. Can we just get things done here? I’m tired.”
Danielle glanced at her. She was acting off. It had to be because Danielle was in there with her. She was making her nervous.
“Of course. Let’s go ahead and give you an exam, see how things are going.”
“You know, I’d like to hear the baby’s heartbeat, but I think I’ll step out for the other stuff,” Danielle said. Suddenly she wanted to be as far away from the exam room, and Shannon and Mark, as possible.
“Sure.” Mark took out the Doppler and placed it on Shannon’s stomach.
The room filled with the sound of the baby’s heartbeat racing along, and it hit Danielle hard. “That’s the baby. That’s my grand
baby.”
Shannon took her mother’s hand. “Yes, Mom. It is.”
Danielle had no idea she would have such a reaction. She brought the palms of her hands to her face, cupping her mouth and nose, here eyes wide. The baby was very, very real. The little heartbeat was echoing through the room, racing, thudding along.
“Sure is, Grandma,” Mark said. “Maybe you two want to record it and take it home for your husband?” He looked at Danielle.
“Nah,” Shannon said. “Neither one of us is married, and I think my dad has enough baby stuff of his own on his plate. His new wife is pregnant again.”
“Ah. Okay.” Mark smiled sheepishly at Danielle.
“You know, I don’t think I want to be called Grandma,” Danielle said.
“We can discuss that later,” Shannon said. “Can you go so he can examine me now?”
Danielle excused herself while Mark finished the exam. She was in the waiting room when Shannon came out. “Dr. Murphy would like to see you for a minute.”
“Me? Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Danielle walked back through the doors. Mark stood around the corner writing out a prescription. He looked over at her and smiled. “I know this is kind of strange and because it is, feel free to say no. Like I said, I’ve only been back for a few months and it’s good to see you, and I was wondering if you would have coffee with me? I thought your daughter’s idea sounded good. And because we’re old friends and everything, I suggested to her that she see my colleague. He’s wonderful. Top-notch. Dr. Jeffers.”
Danielle was speechless.
“I understand if you don’t want to. I really do. It is different meeting this way again after all these years.”
“I’d love to,” Danielle blurted.
Mark’s smile grew wider. “Great. That’s great.” Now he was blushing. “How about next Sunday afternoon? I have to be out of town for almost a week, so…”
“I can’t. I have plans. Instead of coffee, would you want to have dinner?” She could not believe she asked him that, but Mark Murphy hadn’t changed a whole lot since high school, except for the gray hair and a few lines around his eyes. Her heart raced and she could hear the blood rushing through her ears.
“Dinner is great. I have a conference to attend that I leave for tomorrow, but I’ll be back next Thursday. How does Friday night work for you?” he asked.
“Perfect. Next Friday it is then.” She handed him her card with her phone number on it.
“I can get the address off Shannon’s chart.”
“Okay.”
Danielle smiled as she opened the doors to the waiting room.
CHAPTER TEN
Jamie
“Pick up his leg and clean out his hoof. Like this.” Tyler picked up the leg of the chestnut-colored horse named Popeye and cleaned out the hoof with a pick. He set the hoof down and handed her the pick. “Your turn. Do the other side.”
Jamie wrinkled up her nose. She didn’t mind brushing the horse, or even spraying him with a mist of fly spray. But she didn’t know about picking up the leg of a thousand-pound animal and cleaning crap out of his hoof. She wrapped her hands around the lower part of the leg and tugged. The horse did nothing.
“Lean into him a bit,” Tyler instructed.
She did. Nothing. She pulled and tugged. “Come on!”
Tyler knelt down and showed her again how to do it. “Easy.”
“Easy for you,” she said, frustration building. Jamie tried again. The horse continued with his standstill. Jamie stood up. “He doesn’t like me.”
“That’s not it. He doesn’t think that way. He might if you’d abused him.”
“I haven’t.”
“Horses are herd animals and like all herds, there is a pecking order, and I hate to tell you, but you’re not high up on his list. He’s got you buffaloed.”
“What do I do about that?”
“Take charge. He isn’t convinced that you’re in charge.” Tyler smiled.
“You think? Of course I’m not in charge. He outweighs me by about eight hundred seventy-five pounds.”
“Yes, but your brain is larger than his. He’s smart, don’t get me wrong. That’s a big mistake most people make. They think that horses are big, dumb animals, but that’s not even close to true. He’s smart enough to know right now that you don’t have the confidence to pick up his hoof.”
“I have confidence. I’m an editor-in-chief. I am a boss. I’m a mom.” Who was this guy to tell her that she didn’t have any confidence?
“I’m not saying that you aren’t all those things and more. But horses sense energy. If something is off with you, then he doesn’t trust you and he has to trust you before he’ll respond to you.”
“I’m open to suggestions here.”
“Is there something bothering you? Or someone? Some kind of problem, where you need to stand up to someone?”
“What, are you psychic?” she asked.
“No. But he is.” He pointed to Popeye.
“Please.”
“Stay with me on this. If you have an issue that requires you to belly up, then see yourself doing so. Take care of the problem in your mind and then try and lift his hoof again.”
Jamie sighed. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Nope. Close your eyes and do what I said.”
“This is all very strange and sort of New Agey.”
“Not at all,” he replied. “Do it.”
Jamie did as the horse whisperer suggested. She knew the problem currently on her plate was her brother-in-law and his wife and their attitude toward Dorothy and her. With her eyes closed she ran through a scenario of talking with David and defending Dorothy, telling him that he needed to help take care of his mother and not be such a jerk. It did feel good, even if it was all in her head. When she finished, she opened her eyes and saw Tyler standing there still, a half smile on his face. “What?” she asked.
“Nothing. Now go ahead and try.”
She bent over, took the leg again and after asking him three times to pick up his hoof, the horse did so.
Tyler applauded. “Good. Now do the other two. When you’re done there, his saddle is the darkest one in the tack room, in the corner on the middle stand. His pad is lying on top of it. It’s navy blue with black diamonds around it. Can’t miss it. I’ll be back. Kids should be arriving soon.” He walked away.
He walked away. Great. What was she going to do now? Hoof pick in hand and hands on hips, she eyed Popeye. The horse actually appeared to be giving her the once over. Jamie took a look around. There were a handful of teenagers and adults tacking up horses and getting ready for the program children to arrive. She didn’t want to look totally helpless and inept, so she went to Popeye’s other leg and gave it a tug. To her surprise, he lifted it up. Maybe there was something after all to this horse whisperer stuff. After twenty minutes of hoof picking and locating the right saddle, which was not easy to lift and haul around, she began to feel in need of help again. Where was Tyler? He was nowhere in sight, so she gave it her best shot and took hold of the unwieldy hunk of leather. It took some serious effort, but she did it and then stared at her success. Popeye sort of grunted as it landed on his back. “Sorry,” she said.
Now to figure out how in the world to fasten the thing. There was a long leather strap and then the woven cotton part that Jamie knew was the cinch. She’d seen other people do this. She could do this. Where was Tyler? He was supposed to be helping her. Some help!
“Need some help?” she heard him ask.
She jumped, not hearing him come up behind her. “Yes.” She turned around and saw that Tyler was with a boy of about thirteen and someone she assumed was the boy’s mom.
“Jamie, this is Wilson and his mother Petra.”
Jamie stuck out her hand. “Sorry, my hand is kind of dirty.”
Petra smiled. She was tall with long dark hair pulled back into a single braid, and light brown eyes that were as warm as he
r smile. “That doesn’t bother us.” She shook Jamie’s hand.
“Jamie. Jamie. That is a nice name,” Wilson said, cocking his head to the side. He gave the horse a pat. “This is Popeye, Jamie. Popeye.”
“Yes, it is, and I could use some help with Popeye’s saddle,” Jamie replied.
“Should we help her, Wilson?” Tyler asked wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
“Yes.” Wilson nodded while Jamie and Petra stood back from them. Wilson watched intently while Tyler cinched up the saddle, wrapping the latigo strap through and around the leather insert.
“My son is mentally retarded. He’s thirteen but he’s emotionally stunted at about five. He’s a very sweet boy and he loves the horses. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for this program and for people like you and Tyler who work with these kids. This is the highlight of Wilson’s week. He sees so many doctors and therapists that coming here is a break for him. Our big fear is congenital heart failure because he has a hole in his heart. But we take it day by day and bringing him here is a joy for both of us. It really is.”
Jamie took in what this brave woman told her. She often asked God why these things happened to such good people. She didn’t know the answer and maybe it was as simple as ‘that’s just life.’ Or maybe there was something more to it. Maybe a child like Wilson was an angel on Earth who brought out the best in people. As Tyler lifted Wilson up onto the horse and he smiled widely, saying, “Look Mom, I’m a cowboy,” Jamie knew she was witnessing something powerful and true in Wilson’s smile.
“Jamie, come on over to this side,” Tyler instructed. Jamie walked around to the right side of the horse. “Now you’ll stay to the right of Wilson and help him maintain his balance by holding his legs. I’ll lead Popeye around and, since we’re low on staff today, Mom is going to get on this side with me and hold the left leg.”
For thirty minutes, leading Wilson around on Popeye, Jamie forgot her financial problems, her worries over Dorothy, and how she planned to deal with her brother-in-law and his wife. Her focus was all about making sure Wilson had a good time up on the horse.
Happy Hour Page 9