The House on Sugar Plum Lane

by Judy Duarte

  “Your mother told me that she loved you more than life itself,” Amy said.

  Barbara settled into the chair she’d always considered hers. She didn’t doubt that her mother had adored her at one time, but how could she say that when things had been strained between them for years—decades, actually? The affair, the pregnancy, the adoption had always stood between them, even if the actual subject had rarely come up.

  Amy went to the stove, removed the teakettle, carried it to the sink, and filled it with water. “She said that she’d always love you, no matter what the future might bring.”

  “What do you think she meant by that?”

  “That you’re her only child, and that nothing can change the way she feels about you. Even though she can’t say the words and respond to you in an appropriate manner, the emotion is still there, as strong as ever.”

  Until that moment, Barbara had no idea how badly she’d needed her mother’s love, faith, and forgiveness. And Amy’s conversation with her earlier might be the closest thing she would ever get to having it again.

  “I suppose I’ll have to be content with that.”

  Amy placed the teakettle on the stove and turned on the burner. “She also wanted to apologize to you about a few things.”

  Barbara couldn’t understand why her mother would open up to a stranger like that, yet she hung on the words, grappled with the possibility that miracles happened—even to people like her.

  “What did my mom want to apologize for?” she asked.

  “For pushing you too hard at times, for not trusting you to do the right thing without her prodding.”

  Her mom had pushed, and Barbara had reacted by digging in her heels—a bad combination, it seemed, and one with lifelong repercussions.

  “For what it’s worth,” Amy added, “she admitted to having a stubborn streak herself.”

  Amy removed two of Ellie’s china cups and saucers from the cupboard, but instead of carrying the dishes to the table, she faced Barbara and leaned her hip against the kitchen counter. “I think God had a hand in it, and I’ll tell you why. I’m not just a single mom who drove down Sugar Plum Lane and spotted a house for rent. I came here specifically to find you.”

  Barbara’s heart rate spiked, then sputtered. Had Amy been sent by Susan Rossi? Or did she work for the long-haired PI who’d encountered her in the hospital parking lot?

  “Why were you looking for me?” she asked, trying to downplay her suspicion with normal curiosity.

  “Because my mother was adopted as a baby, and I was looking for her birth family.”

  Had she not been seated, Barbara might have dropped to the floor. “You’re Susan’s daughter?”

  Now Amy appeared stunned. “You know her name?”

  “Yes. She found me about a year ago.”

  The confusion tightened across Amy’s face. “But she never told me. And I’m sure she would have. Finding you was so important to her.”

  “It’s not anymore?”

  “My mother passed away six months ago.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tears filled Barbara’s eyes as a myriad of emotion—grief and shame, to name two—swept over her. “I had an opportunity to talk to her, but I refused.”

  “I’m not sure that she was actually looking to have a relationship with you. She told me that she couldn’t explain it, but that she had an overwhelming compulsion to find you. Looking back, I think that’s because of Ellie’s prayers.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You may not know this, but your mom prayed for that baby—my mother—every day. She asked God to bless and watch over her and the family who adopted her. In her heart of hearts, Ellie truly believed God would someday bring them together again. And she was able to have that brief connection through me.”

  “And you think that’s why my mother was able to carry on a conversation with you tonight?”

  “That’s exactly what I think.”

  The teakettle began to whistle, and Amy filled their cups with hot water. Then she carried them back to the table.

  Barbara took a long, hard look at the young woman who was her granddaughter, realizing that shutting her out of her life was no longer an option.

  She had a great-granddaughter, too. A darling little girl with platinum blond hair and big blue eyes.

  How could she walk away from them now that they’d actually met?

  Barbara had no idea what Joseph planned to do. He’d walked out of the house and had yet to call or contact her. He might decide to hang in there, at least until Joey took a turn for the better. Or he might pack up and file for divorce while things were still up in the air.

  It was hard to say.

  At one time, she’d thought she would be crushed if Joseph left her, yet right now, a sense of peace had settled over her. Oddly enough, she felt as though she was right where she needed to be—seated at her mother’s kitchen table, having a long-overdue conversation with a woman who no longer seemed to be a stranger.

  “I suppose I ought to tell you what happened,” she finally said, “and why I gave up your mother.”

  “If you’d like to.”

  For the first time, she did.

  “I married Joseph Davila in nineteen sixty, and we bought a little house near the beach in Coronado. Two years later, we had Joey. Life was good, and my relationship with my mother was better than it had been in a long time, probably because I’d finally grown up and had a family of my own.” Barbara opened a tea bag and dipped it into her cup, even though she wasn’t particularly thirsty. The casual movement seemed to help her sort through her thoughts, her memories. “Joseph was a Navy pilot, and when he was sent to Vietnam, I was incredibly sad and lonely.

  “Before I got married, I had a crush on Joseph’s best friend, another Navy pilot. Darrel was handsome, an athlete, and a charmer. But he wasn’t interested in me.” Barbara took a sip of her tea, realizing she hadn’t sweetened it. But it really didn’t matter. The warm brew quenched her dry throat and made it easier to speak of the time in her life she’d so badly wanted to forget.

  “One night,” she continued, “a couple of friends invited me to a beach party. My mom babysat, thinking it would be good for me to get out. Darrel was there. And we had a couple of drinks and shared a few laughs. One thing led to another, and I did something I shouldn’t have done.” Barbara glanced at the young woman who sat across the scarred oak table from her, wondering if she was passing judgment and not blaming her if she did. “The affair didn’t last long, but my mother soon put two and two together. Her disgust and her lectures only made me more defensive, more secretive. When I finally ended things with Darrel, I assumed that no one but my mother would be the wiser. But then I found out I was pregnant.”

  Amy, who didn’t appear to be doing anything other than listening, filled in the blanks. “So you decided to give the baby up for adoption.”

  “I had no other choice, not if I wanted to save my marriage. And I did.”

  “For what it’s worth,” Amy said, “your mom eventually came to the conclusion that you’d done the right thing by giving up the baby. She might not have told you, but she wanted to.”

  “That’s good to know. Back then, and for years afterward, she’d made me feel as though I’d not only given away my flesh and blood, but that I’d sacrificed a child that was a part of my dad.”

  “Did she tell you that?”

  “She didn’t have to. I could see it in her eyes, and in spite of trying my best to shut her out of my life, not a day went by that I didn’t feel guilty about it all—the affair, the adoption, the rift between us. And each time it did, I tried my best to make up for everything, at least as far as my husband and son were concerned.”

  “Mommy,” Callie called from the doorway, breaking the tension, shifting their focus. “Can I please have a cookie and some milk?”

  “Sure, honey.”

  As Amy got up from the table, Barbara studied the little girl, her blond hair pulled bac
k in pigtails, her eyes the color of a summer sky.

  Callie was an adorable child, and from what she’d seen so far, Amy was a nice young woman. They already had loving grandparents in Mr. and Mrs. Rossi, but maybe Barbara could be a part of their lives, too. She hoped so, although she probably didn’t deserve a relationship with them and wouldn’t push for one.

  The muffled ring of her cell sounded from inside her purse. At any other time, Barbara might have ignored it, but she didn’t dare do that now.

  “Excuse me, Amy. I need to check to see who’s calling.” She dug through her handbag, found the phone, and looked at the lighted display. “It’s Cynthia, my daughter-in-law. I have to take this.” She pushed Send and lifted it to her ear. “Hi, Cyn. What’s going on?”

  “I have some good news, Mom. They’re going to move Joey out of ICU.”

  Relief, like the rays of the sun peering out from behind dark clouds, poured over Barbara, warming her from the inside out. “That’s wonderful, honey. Have they scheduled the surgery?”

  “No, not yet. But it finally looks more promising. The lab results show his blood sugar level is stabilizing. It seems that the new treatment is working.”

  “Thank God. That’s the best news I’ve had in ages. Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?”

  “No. I’m doing okay. But I have to go, Mom. I’ll talk to you later.”

  When the call ended, Barbara looked at Amy and smiled. “I can’t wait for you to meet my son and his wife. I’m sure the news will come as a complete surprise to them, but they’ve got big hearts. And they love children.” Barbara caught herself and reeled in her enthusiasm. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to push myself on you. It’s just that, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get to know you better.”

  “I’d like that,” Amy said, reaching out and placing her hand over the top of Barbara’s. “I’d like it a lot.”

  Barbara’s heart swelled to the point of breaking, and tears of joy welled in her eyes. She had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but for the first time in years, the future looked bright and promising.

  Chapter 20

  Barbara stayed with Amy until late that evening, talking, sharing, and getting to know her better. It was nearly ten when she decided to leave, and as Amy began to walk her to the door, they stopped near the sofa, where Callie had fallen asleep with Patches curled up beside her.

  “Look at her,” Barbara said. “She’s precious, Amy.”

  “Thank you. I’ve always felt blessed, but I hadn’t realized just how much or why that might be.” Amy made a quick scan of the room in which Ellie had often sat and read her Bible, where she’d prayed for all of them time and again.

  She supposed, in a way, she really should thank Ellie for that. God had certainly answered her prayers.

  “You know,” Barbara said, as she reached the front door. “I’m going to hire round-the-clock care and bring my mother home to live with me. I’d worried about how Joseph would handle the inconvenience, but I don’t care anymore. He left after I confessed to the affair, and to tell you the truth, I’m not eager to have him come back. We never fought, but things were always tense. My life might be more peaceful without him there.”

  Barbara had mentioned that her marriage was strained, yet when she smiled at Amy, it was clear that she was happy with her decision, maybe even freed by it.

  For the first time since Amy had met her grandmother, she began to see traces of her mom in the woman: a light in Barbara’s eyes, the shape of her smile. Funny how she’d missed it at first.

  “If you’re free, will you and Callie have lunch with me on Sunday?” Barbara asked.

  “Yes, I’d like that. Thanks.”

  After writing down her address, Barbara waited as Amy went to the sofa and carefully lifted the sleeping child into her arms.

  Yet in spite of Amy’s best efforts, Callie awoke and scrunched her eyes. “Where are we going, Mommy?”

  “Home, baby.”

  “But what about Patches? Can she go with us?”

  Amy looked at the cat, which had jumped to the floor and now peered up at her with soft brown eyes.

  If it hadn’t been a stray with street smarts, she might have considered taking it home with them, but what would they do with a cat?

  “Patches lives outdoors, honey.”

  “But only because Ellie can’t take care of her anymore. She needs a family, Mommy.”

  “But we already have a dog.”

  “Cookie won’t care. He likes cats. They just don’t like him very much. But I’ll tell him that Patches is nice.”

  Amy needed both a dog and a cat like she needed a hole in the head, but how could she tell her daughter no?

  “Please,” Callie pleaded again.

  Amy relented, but not just because of her daughter’s pleas. The poor stray did need a loving home. And she suspected that Ellie would have been pleased to know that it had found one with Callie.

  “Okay, but I hope I’m not sorry for this later.”

  “Are you taking the cat home now?” Barbara asked.

  “Maybe it would be best if she stayed in familiar surroundings for tonight. I’ll pick up some supplies at the pet store tomorrow morning, then come back for her.”

  After making a bed for the cat in the bathroom and providing her with food and water, Amy locked the house, said good-bye to Barbara, and secured Callie in the backseat. Then she drove to Del Mar.

  The next morning, she sat in the kitchen nook at the townhome, having her first cup of coffee and waiting for Callie to wake up so they could return for Patches. She’d let Cookie out in the small backyard to go potty and hoped Patches wasn’t making a mess of that bathroom. Maybe she ought to wake Callie up and tell her it was time to go.

  She’d just gotten to her feet when a car drove up and parked out front. Curious, she peered out the window and saw that Brandon had stopped by.

  Her heart slipped into overdrive, and she lifted her hand, fingered her wet, stringy hair, which she’d washed earlier, and glanced at the worn robe she wore. If she’d known he was coming, she would have gotten dressed, would have dried her hair.

  A little more uneasy with her appearance than she should have been, she met him at the door, opening it before he had a chance to knock.

  “Hey,” he said with a sheepish smile.

  It wasn’t often that she saw him dressed so casually—what was with the khaki cargo shorts and a surf T-shirt on a week-day morning? Yet he looked good and more relaxed than he had in ages.

  “Aren’t you working today?” she asked.

  “No. I called one of the senior partners at home last night and told him I was taking some time off, starting immediately.”

  That was certainly out of character, and she wondered what had provoked him to do something like that.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked. “It’s fresh.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She led him to the kitchen, and moments later, they were seated across the table from each other, drinking her favorite Starbucks blend out of white mugs. For some reason, it felt good. Right.

  “So why are you taking time off?” she asked.

  “For a lot of reasons. First of all, you said that I had my priorities confused, and I decided you were right. Secondly, I talked to my dad last night. His health isn’t good, and I’d like to spend some time with him.”

  “Your dad?” Amy, who’d lifted her mug to her mouth, held it in mid-motion. Brandon hadn’t talked much about his father, other than to say he was a loser, that they hadn’t been close. “How’d you find him?”

  “It’s a long story, but I’m glad that I went to see him. He’s not the same person he used to be.” Brandon took a sip of coffee. “I’m not sure how much time he has left, and I’d like to take Callie to visit him.”

  “Is that why you’re here?”

  “Primarily.”

  She studied the man she no longer seemed to know, noting the changes in h
is demeanor, his appearance.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, apparently picking up on her curiosity.

  “Nothing. It’s just a little surprising. That’s all.”

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think the past couple of days, Amy. I’ve done some soul searching, and like my dad, I’m making some changes in my life, too.”

  Had he decided to start dating?

  Her stomach stirred, and she set her coffee aside. The idea that Brandon might be seeing someone didn’t sit very well with her.

  “If you’re dead set on this divorce,” he said, “then I’ll let you go, even though I don’t want to. But either way, things are going to be a lot different from here on out.”

  Dead set? It made her sound so headstrong, so stubborn…so much like Barbara and Ellie.

  “What kind of changes are you making?” she asked.

  “If you don’t have any objections, I’m going to put the house in La Jolla on the market.”

  He loved that house. It represented all he’d achieved in life. “I don’t mind, but…?”

  “I don’t need it, Amy. If you don’t take me back, along with my promise to put our family first—and it appears that you’re not going to do that—then I don’t want to live in that big house alone. I’ll buy something closer to you and Callie. I plan to be a major part of her life and will do whatever it takes to be there for her.”

  “Brandon, I don’t know what to say.”

  “I guess I’m not asking you to say anything. I love you. And I love Callie. Nothing will change that. Ever.”

  Her heart, once hardened toward him and their marriage, was thawing fast, and she wanted to believe him. Could she trust him to put their family first?

  She searched his gaze, saw the love that burned from within, felt the spark she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

  The man she’d fallen in love with was seated across from her, baring his heart and soul. And in that instant, she knew that she couldn’t just throw it all away. Not after all she’d learned from Ellie.

  “I love you, too, Brandon. And I haven’t been a perfect wife. For one thing, I should have been more supportive and understanding. So if we’re going to make changes, it’ll be in Callie’s best interests if we make them together, as a family.”