by Gayle Roper
I put a hand up, acknowledging what a stupid question I had asked. I decided I’d chalk it up to the sleepless night.
“Bad night?” The man saw way too much.
I shrugged and gave a pathetic little smile. “I’ll be fine.” Maybe some day a million years from now. Of course, by then I’d be in heaven, and I would be fine. Something to look forward to. I wondered uselessly if you could ask stupid questions in heaven or if I’d be spared that embarrassment—if you even got embarrassed in heaven.
“Guess what?” Jenna bubbled as we went down the front steps to the sidewalk. “We’re going to a Phillies game tonight. More fireworks. Want to come? We’ve got extra tickets.”
I glanced at Drew. Did this invitation mean Chloe, or did it mean both of us?
He nodded. “A friend at Penn has season tickets, but he’s away this weekend. He gave them to me. We’ve got four, and we were thinking it was a shame to waste two.”
Both of us. How very—nice. Understatement. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone anywhere with a single man on an almost date, if you can count going somewhere with two thirteen-year-old chaperons even an almost date.
“Oh, I don’t know.” I tried my best to look uncertain. “Chloe was so tired when she got up this morning. I’m not sure she can manage another late night.”
Chloe looked at me, horrified. Jenna looked distressed. Drew grinned. How did he know I was kidding?
“Gotcha!” I pointed a finger at Chloe.
She and Jenna looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
“The game starts at seven thirty,” Drew said. “I’ll find out the best way to get to the stadium. I don’t even know where it is.”
“It’s down by the river in the sports complex where the old Veterans Stadium was, but I couldn’t tell you how to actually get there.” We exchanged cell phone numbers as we walked back home.
“Look! McDonald’s!” Chloe pointed at the fast-food place sandwiched between two stores. “Chicken McNuggets!”
You’d have thought it was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I realized I didn’t have to worry about Aunt Stella’s Wedgwood completely turning her head, though someday I would have to take the child to a classier eatery just so she got comfortable smiling at a server and leaving a tip. And eating something besides Chicken McNuggets.
Drew looked equally delighted. “Big Mac with cheese.” He pulled the door open, and we all stepped inside. Once we collected our food, we sat at a table for four. I had a momentary fantasy about how much we looked like a real family as Jenna talked about the hunky guys next door back home and Drew did his best not to shudder.
When we left, the girls walked ahead, and I had a chance to thank Drew for his rescue the previous night. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a white knight ride to my rescue before.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been called a white knight before.”
“No?”
“Never.” He was emphatic. “Usually I’m called dull and pedantic.”
I laughed. If ever there was a man who was not dull and pedantic, it was him.
“You shouldn’t take your students’ comments to heart. They wouldn’t know a knight if they saw one.”
“Oddly, my students seem to like me. My classes always fill quickly.”
I did not find that odd at all. “Jenna calls you pedantic? That’s not a word typically used by thirteen-year-olds.”
“That’s the truth. Nor by many college freshmen. But Jenna’s never said that. She and I do pretty well together.”
And I understood. The missing wife with the red and green hair. “Ah. Amazing how it hurts, isn’t it?”
He gave a tight little smile.
“Even when it’s untrue. Even when it was said years ago.”
He looked at me, and we acknowledged the shared experience of being run through by those we had loved. We walked the next block in companionable silence.
We made the final turn for home in time to see Tori’s limo pull away. Tension that I hadn’t even been aware I was carrying left, loosening my shoulder and neck muscles. I sighed mentally. I didn’t have to confront her about the puzzle just yet. Instead I had two restful days, including an exciting evening with Drew. And Jenna.
Drew was smiling as they turned into the lane. Not only had he been blessed by the service and delighted to see Libby—and Chloe—sitting two rows in front of Jenna and him, but the walk home had given Libby and him a chance to talk, really talk. He was still surprised that he’d told her about “dull and pedantic,” and it was probably pretty sad that the thing they shared was pain, but having someone understand was such a relief.
And he’d get to spend time with her—them—tonight.
She looked so fresh and pretty in her yellow top and blue and yellow swirly skirt. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail with a yellow flower sitting on it, all jaunty and feminine. Little wisps of hair had worked their way loose to curl around her face and neck, and he kept wondering what those curls felt like. Would they wrap around his finger like Jenna’s baby hand had? Would they be silky or coarse or somewhere in between? And what business was it of his?
Still, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so at ease with a woman. Usually he felt either guilty or hunted when anyone single spent time with him. The guilty feelings were ridiculous, he knew. His marriage had been dissolved over ten years ago. Ruthie had long ago killed any affection he’d ever had for her. All he felt now was sorrow, pity, and a vague sense that if he’d been more of a man, he could have prevented her from leaving, which he knew wasn’t true, but guilt was funny that way.
The hunted feeling came when a woman got that predatory look, one eye on him and the other on Modern Bride. Granted, he was as lonely as the next guy, but he wasn’t anyone’s answer to the husband hunt. Once burned, forever smart, or so he liked to think. Or as Ben would say, “Experience is a dear teacher, but fools will learn at no other.” And he’d learned.
But Libby was different from all the others. Restful. She’d had a hard time of things too, and look at how she’d turned out. Warm, charming, and brave, committed to the Lord.
He opened his mouth to tell Libby that he’d call about the time he would stop for her when he saw someone rise from his front step.
“Where have you been?” The strident voice rang through the lane. “I’ve been waiting here forever!”
Ruthie had found him. He sighed mentally and tried to dredge up the emotional stamina to deal with her. And Jenna.
His daughter stood frozen. “Mom?” He couldn’t tell if she was more upset, surprised, or delighted. She didn’t see Ruthie much, and every time she did, it was an adventure into the unknown.
Ruthie rushed at him, ignoring Jenna. She threw herself into his arms and began sobbing. “He’s dead, Drew. Mick’s dead. He was murdered!”
Drew closed his eyes. All he wanted was an orderly life, a place for everything and everything in its place. Instead he had Ruthie and all her melodrama. Like Mick had really been murdered. He’d probably gotten tired of being called whatever was his equivalent of “dull and pedantic” and taken off. If he was wise, he wasn’t coming back.
For want of a better idea, Drew patted Ruthie’s back. “I’m sorry, Ruthie.”
“Who’s Mick?” Chloe whispered to Jenna, who watched her mother with a look of resignation and sorrow that seemed to say, “Ignored again.”
“Her boyfriend. Number 554.”
Chloe blinked. “Oh.”
The hurt and bitterness in Jenna’s voice broke his heart.
Drew looked at Libby over Ruthie’s head and was surprised by the sympathy he saw there. He’d expected distaste at the very least. Ruthie looked like a wild woman. Her bleached hair hung over her shoulders like straw. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her too-tanned skin was lined from hard drinking and smoking as well as the elements. She was much too thin, her cami drooping on her, her legs mere twigs hanging out of her short
s.
“Don’t worry about tonight,” Libby said. “Take care of her. She needs you.”
He glanced from lovely, kind Libby to Ruthie who couldn’t even say hello to her own daughter. “No.”
Libby looked confused.
“I mean, no, don’t forget about tonight. We have a date.”
Ruthie had gone still and wasn’t wailing to the skies anymore. She pulled back and stared over her shoulder at Libby, her expression hard. “What are you doing here?”
“She’s Dad’s girlfriend,” Jenna blurted. “They’re getting married next month.”
“Jenna!” Drew was horrified.
“I know it’s supposed to be a secret and all,” Jenna continued, her eyes full of tears. “But I had to tell.”
Chloe saw the panicked look on Jenna’s face. “Yeah, and we’re going to be bridesmaids. We’ve got these great dresses.”
“Pink,” said Jenna.
“Blue,” said Chloe.
They looked at each other, then scrambled to clarify their lie.
“Mine’s like a rose pink,” Jenna said. “And hers—”
“Yeah, hers is rose pink, and mine’s royal blue. They let us pick our favorite colors.”
Drew knew that Jenna’s lie grew out of a world of hurt caused by Ruthie’s indifference. He couldn’t jump on the girl in front of everyone. But what do I do, Lord?
He dared a glance at Libby, who stood frozen, blue eyes wide. Then she gave a slight shake and stepped forward with her hand extended to Ruthie.
“I’m Libby Keating. I’m so sorry for your loss, Ruth.”
For a minute Ruthie seemed confused. “Libby?” Then her face collapsed and two tears rolled down her cheeks. “Mick!” She did look bereaved, and Drew, idiot that he was, felt bad for her.
“Why don’t you take her home, Drew?” Libby stepped close and laid her hand on his arm. “Let her lie down.”
He nodded. What else could he do?
Libby moved to Jenna, who looked shocky. She probably couldn’t believe what she’d said. Drew’s heart broke for her. Ruthie still hadn’t said a word, not even hello, to her.
Libby put her arm around Jenna’s shoulders. “Why don’t you come home with us, honey? Let your mom rest. Then maybe you can talk with her.”
Jenna nodded gratefully, and Drew thought he’d never be able to repay the debt of kindness Libby had just given his child.
“Go on, girls.” Libby shooed Jenna and Chloe toward her house. They took off running. Then she turned back to Drew. “I’ll see you this evening, sweetheart.” She said the last with a smirk and a smile, though how she actually managed both at the same time was a mystery.
He grinned at her. “Right, love.” And arm about Ruthie’s waist, he led his ex away. When they reached the house, he took her to the spare room so she could rest.
No way was he letting her near his bedroom ever again.
I found Chloe and Jenna in Chloe’s room, huddled on the bed, Princess sitting beside them with a worried expression on her face. Jenna had been crying, and Chloe had an arm around her shoulder. Both faces reflected fear, uncertainty, and defiance. The only things missing were a Solidarity poster and raised fists.
I leaned against the doorjamb, wondering where to begin, wishing I had just a bit of Solomon’s legendary wisdom. Ruthie was a much bigger issue than the spontaneous lie about Drew and me.
“You doing okay, Jenna?” I asked.
In answer, her face crumbled and she began sobbing.
Princess whined, unhappy at the loud weeping.
“Mom!” Chloe glared at me. “Sheesh!”
Okay, stupid question. I walked to the bed, sat on the edge, and put a hand on Jenna’s heaving shoulder. Princess immediately climbed onto my lap, leaning against me for comfort, her eyes on Jenna.
“I’m so sorry you were hurt, Jenna honey.” I bit back the automatic “But I’m sure it’ll be all right” that seemed a natural follow-up to the “I’m sorry.” It wouldn’t be all right. I thought of a pastor friend who’d said that he disapproved of divorce not just for scriptural reasons but because of the sociological upheavals resulting from split families.
“And it’s always the kids who suffer most,” he’d said.
Proof of his assertion drooped with misery on Chloe’s bed.
I opened my mouth to say some inane thing like, “Well, we love you, Jenna,” when she burst out, “I hate her!” The vehemence of her declaration was undercut considerably by the pain in her wobbly voice and the tears streaming down her face.
“Shh, honey. That’s your hurt feelings talking. You don’t hate her.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. Stupid parent comment number two.
Jenna sniffed and wiped at her tears. “I wish I did. It’d be easier.” And fresh moisture slid down her cheeks.
This was exactly the kind of pain I was trying to save Chloe by not telling her about Eddie. He would hurt her like this, I knew it, maybe even worse, with his indifference and false charm and sharp tongue.
I sighed and ran a hand over the quaking Princess. “I know about moms who aren’t there for you, Jenna. And I know it hurts like nothing else.”
Jenna looked at me skeptically.
“She knows what she’s talking about,” Chloe said. “Mom-Mom and Great-Nan—that’s my great-grandmother—are very self-absorbed.”
That was a nice way of putting it.
“They love me,” she continued, “but they sort of ignore Mom.”
Jenna frowned. “But moms are supposed to love you.”
“They are,” I agreed. “But some never seem to get that message.”
We were silent for a minute, thinking about that sad fact. Princess climbed off my lap and made her way to Jenna, putting a small paw on her leg in an offer of sympathy. Jenna pulled the dog in for a hug, burying her face in the fluffy topknot, knocking the pink bow more askew.
“Well, at least you know who your mother is,” Chloe said. “I have no idea who my father is.”
Though I knew her comment wasn’t aimed at me but intended as a comfort to Jenna, I felt as if I’d been punched in the chest.
“I mean, I could meet him and never even realize it. Now that’s megaweird.”
Jenna looked at Chloe with something like pity. “That is weird.”
“Yeah,” Chloe said. “So you’re a step ahead. You know.”
“A lot of good it does me.” Jenna sounded bitter. “What kind of a mom doesn’t even say hello when her kid is standing right next to her?”
I pushed Jenna’s hair back from her damp face. “A very blind mom not to realize what a wonderful, beautiful, intelligent young woman you are.”
Chloe gave me a small smile, and I realized I had finally said the right thing. Thank You, Lord!
I leaned over and kissed first Chloe on the cheek, then Jenna. I stood, thinking I’d better leave on a high note.
“Chlo, take Jenna to the bathroom so she can wash her face. Then come on down and we’ll have some chocolate marshmallow ice cream in the backyard.”
We could talk at a later time about my impending marriage to a man I’d met three days ago.
12
THE GIRLS CAME DOWNSTAIRS late in the afternoon. I was checking things on eBay, pleased that the pair of buyers who wanted the sunglasses were still duking it out, especially since I had another twenty-five pairs I would post in a couple of weeks. I had to wonder, though, why anyone besides a seller like me wanted twenty-five pairs of cat’s-eye sunglasses. Maybe these people were sellers too with stores where they would sell the glasses one pair at a time for a nice profit.
I was vaguely aware of the girls pulling Oreos from the cupboard and sweetened iced tea from the fridge. I exited eBay. “Pour me a glass, will you, Chloe?”
The glass she handed me was blown so thin it was a wonder it didn’t break when I held it, dumping tea all over me and the floor.
Chloe pulled at least a half dozen Oreos from the pack. She held them out to
Jenna, who took only two. Nice to see a non-grabby kid. Jenna’s eyes were still puffy, but she looked more under control than she had a couple of hours ago. The cookies ought to give her a good jolt of sugar, making her feel even better.
“Jenna’s going to spend the night with me, Mom. Okay?” Chloe twisted the top off the sandwich cookie and began licking the filling.
I wasn’t surprised that Jenna didn’t want to go home, what with Ruthie in residence, but I had no idea how Drew felt about her continuing absence.
“If her father says it’s okay.” I smiled at Jenna, then stiffened. Pinned to her knit top over her right shoulder was a stylized dog with diamond chips for its tail and marquise-cut sapphires for its eyes.
“Jenna! Where did you get that pin?”
I must have barked because she jumped and put her hand over it. She looked at me uncertainly. “Chloe gave it to me.”
“Chloe?” By now I was on my feet, hands on hips. I was appalled that the girls had gone into my room and picked through the shoe-box of jewelry.
Chloe looked at me, clearly not understanding my anger. “Easy, Mom. Aunt Tori gave it to me.”
It was like a slap across the face. “Aunt Tori?”
Chloe nodded. “Did you know she keeps her jewelry in a shoe-box? I mean, how weird is that?”
I raced up the stairs and into my bedroom, Princess hard on my heels, barking in excitement since running through the house was not my normal style. I’d left the precious box on my bureau, but it was no longer there. I thought back to when I’d changed into cropped pants after church, but I couldn’t remember whether the box had been here or not.
I ran to Tori’s room, aware of Chloe and Jenna watching me from the top of the stairs with uncertain expressions. There on my sister’s unmade bed sat my box, its many little boxes strewn about the bed linens.
Anger bubbled up. How could she! And what did she take besides the dog pin?
I stalked to the bed and began opening each box, lifting the little pieces of cotton batting protecting the pins and brooches. Princess jumped up and studied each box with me, ears pricked. There were two empty boxes. The dog Jenna was wearing belonged in one. I thought through the inventory and realized Tori’d taken the pin with the large diamond in the center and two circles of chips surrounding it. Thirty-two hundred dollars, give or take a few bucks.