by Holly Jacobs
Into their home.
It pissed him off, though he wasn’t sure why. He knew the equipment, from the bed with the weird air mattress, to the portable toilet, would make things easier for his mom and Hayden. But simply looking at the room made him feel a sense of impotent rage.
It even had that slightly metallic smell he’d come to associate with the hospital over the last few months. He couldn’t grasp how Hayden had stood working in conditions like this, night after night, year after year. Dealing with the smells and the horror of watching people suffer.
She was efficient as she worked with Marti, arranging his mom. Neither seemed bothered that they were putting his mother into a bed that, in all likelihood, she’d die in.
Die?
A world without his mother?
Brian had never thought of himself as a mama’s boy. But since her illness had come back, he’d begun to realize how much he counted on her.
Even during the years when he lived on the other side of the country, he’d known his mother was only a phone call away. She’d watched over Hayden and Olivia when he wasn’t there. And when he’d come home every month, she was waiting, smiling, as happy to see him as he’d been to see her.
Those times had been filled with tension and recriminations—not from his mom, Hayden or even Livie.
After Hayden had come to tell him she was pregnant, that they were going to have a baby, he’d wanted nothing more than to come home. It hurt a lot to know that Hayden didn’t want or need him there.
Whenever he thought of those years, what he remembered the most was being torn. Pulled between his life in California, and his life in Pennsylvania. He’d known his position on the child-welfare committee had made a difference to the kids in California, but at the expense of the one child he wanted to be with the most—Olivia.
If that wasn’t enough, he’d had to deal with Lisa.…
1993
“Don’t go.”
The window was open, allowing a brisk Pacific wind to billow the curtains, blowing the scent of the city into the room. California was supposed to be a paradise. He tried to remember that, but sometimes it was easy to forget when he started longing for home.
His position on the governor’s advisory committee had led to his paid position on the governor’s staff as the Child Welfare Director. He was having an even greater say in California’s policies. But no matter how often he reminded himself of the fact, it didn’t stop him from feeling as if he had let down Hayden and his daughter. He should have insisted he and Hayden marry and that he should return home, despite Hayden’s threats that she’d leave.
“Brian,” Lisa said again.
He kept packing his suitcase. He didn’t bother looking up, didn’t respond. There really was nothing left to say.
Like a broken record, they had played the same song over and over, every time he got ready to visit Pittsburgh.
“Brian.” Lisa’s voice was sharp and demanding of his attention.
Knowing he couldn’t continue to avoid the scene, he finally looked up at his wife of a year and a half.
He knew her face intimately. The small scattering of freckles along the bridge of her nose, the scar by her right ear where her brother whacked her with a broken yardstick as they played knights.
She’d been fearless and filled with a zest for life when he’d met her. Lisa had been there after Hayden left, when he’d been so confused he didn’t know which way to turn. She’d supported him, been a friend and eventually, romance bloomed. Brian had thought it would be forever, but more and more he wasn’t so sure.
Lisa made it clear she wasn’t happy, but Brian didn’t know any other way to do things.
“Lisa, you were aware of Olivia when we married. You were there with me after I found out. You told me that you understood the situation.” His voice was harder than he intended. But he was tired of doing this whenever he left.
“Yes, but—”
“You knew she was important to me, that I hate living so far from her. Hayden didn’t want me there, and what I was doing here was important. That it still is important. But it doesn’t alter the fact that I love my daughter and need to make these monthly trips home. Calling her every night isn’t enough. Not nearly enough. You accepted all of this when we married.”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m not sure why every month, every trip we have to replay this conversation. It’s not as if I go and don’t invite you. You’re always welcome. Mom said last time that she wished they saw more of you. That she’d like to know her daughter-in-law better.”
Lisa’s face had always shown her every emotion. Once, there had been humor. Interest. Love. Now he watched as her anger gave way to a sullen pouting. “You know it’s hard for me to get away from work.”
Always the same.
Did every couple find themselves reliving the same fights over and over? Did any of them find a way out of the ruts?
“You could manage it if you wanted to. But that’s the point, isn’t it? You don’t want to.”
“Brian, I’m an outsider in Pittsburgh.”
“Bridgeville,” he corrected automatically. “We live just outside the city in the small town of Bridgeville.”
“Pennsylvania, then. I’m an outsider. You, your mom, Olivia …” She paused. “Hayden. You all have history. The stories, the inside jokes. I’m not a part of them, of any of that. They’re your east-coast family. You’re different there. I don’t know you there. I know the west coast you. I fell in love with the west coast Brian Conway.”
“I’m me, no matter what coast I’m on. If you came with me more often, we’d build our own stories and inside jokes there … ones that include you.” He gently stroked her arm. “Olivia’s still too young to fly across country on her own. My going there makes the most sense. It won’t always be this way. She’ll get older, she’ll come here. But for now, I need to be with my daughter. See her on a regular basis. And I’d like you to be a part of that.”
Lisa sighed and took his hand. “Well, it’s too late for me to get off work now, but I’ll really try next time.”
He kissed her forehead. “I’d like that. We’d all like that. We want you to feel as if you’re a part of the family.”
“I don’t. Not yet. But I’m willing to give it a chance. Now, do you have everything?”
Next time never came. Lisa put off Pennsylvania, and their fight occurred again and again, until finally she’d said he had to choose, her or Olivia.
There was no choice to make.
Brian had helped Lisa pack.
He wasn’t sure why he was thinking about Lisa now. Their marriage had been a mistake from the beginning. They’d wanted different things and neither had been willing to give an inch.
He studied Hayden, who was dealing so tenderly with his mother.
During their last fight, Lisa had said that if it had been just his daughter, she’d have coped. But she could never compete with Hayden, so she was done.
He’d never thought of it as a competition. If asked, he’d have denied ever comparing Lisa to Hayden. But looking back, he had to admit that maybe his ex-wife was right.
Maybe Lisa had a point. Brian couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t loved Hayden. Recently, that love had felt brittle and fragile, and he was worried. He wanted to grab on to it, hold it tightly, but was afraid that if he held too tightly, it would break.
Chapter Seven
“Are you comfortable?” Hayden asked as she fussed with the end of Kathleen’s bed, straightening the covers, then restraightening them.
Kathleen hated that she was putting her family through this. “Yes. The new Fentanyl patch is working wonderfully. There’s no pain.”
“If you start to hurt, though, you’ll tell me? Marti left medications for breakthrough pain.”
Kathleen nodded. “I will. But right now, I’m okay. Sit down and catch your breath.”
“I’m fine.”
Kathleen knew that Hayden was
n’t fine. Neither were Brian and Livie.
She hoped that the kids finally admitted they belonged together, that they were done with trials, even though she knew better. Relationships, like life, were filled with highs and lows. Brian and Hayden were going through an unprecedented low now, and she could only wish they’d find their way out of it.
Dying wasn’t the hard part, leaving behind those she loved and knowing they were hurting, was.
“I know I’ve said it before, but I appreciate your moving back in here and putting your house on the market. I know how hard you worked for it.”
“You don’t have to thank me. Living together makes sense, and as much as I loved my house, this has always been home.”
Kathleen groped for a happy memory, something sweet for them to focus on. There were so many to choose from, but it only took a minute for her to find the right one. “Today I’ve been remembering another move.…”
April 1995
Hayden peeked into the living room of her small house. She’d scrimped and saved to buy it. Even after years of living here, she still sometimes felt awed that it was hers—that she’d bought it on her own.
From the doorway, she watched her daughter. Livie’s auburn hair was twisted into a long ponytail that dragged along the sill as she craned her neck one way and then the other, obviously trying to see something better.
Hayden had come to check on her five-year-old because time had taught her one of life’s most important mothering lessons—if a child is too quiet, something is generally wrong, or they’re into something they shouldn’t be.
“What’s up, hon?”
Livie, a miniature Kathleen, right down to the slight sprinkling of freckles and the clear, true-blue eyes, turned, concern etching her face. “Is Nana leaving?”
Hayden joined her daughter at the front window and peered two doors down Briar Hill Road to Kathleen’s house. A giant moving truck sat in the driveway.
“No, I’m sure she’s not leaving. But I wonder what’s up?”
“I’d like her to move in with us. I liked living with Nana when I was a baby.”
Hayden was politic enough not to mention that since Olivia was only two when they moved away from Kathleen’s, she was pretty sure the little girl didn’t actually remember living with her grandmother. Olivia’s memories were inspired by Kathleen’s stories and were very real to her.
Olivia was a story collector. She listened intently to all of Kathleen’s tales of when Hayden and Brian were small. Lately, Livie had been stuck on ghosts and bikers, after Kathleen told her about the first time Hayden had come to the house. Halloween was six months away, and Livie was already mulling over what she’d wear, uncertain which costume she wanted to copy.
“Can we go to Nana’s and check?”
“Sure. We can go investigate, nosy Rosey, her mama’s posy.”
“Olivia Kathleen-Rose Conway, nosy Rosey, her mama’s posy.” Livie parroted the rhyme Hayden had made up years ago. The little girl tried to look miffed, because Hayden knew she felt she was too old for baby nicknames, but she couldn’t quite pull it off.
As Hayden chuckled, Livie joined in.
“Let’s go.”
Livie hurried to the front door, threw it I open, but before she could make her escape, Hayden said, “Stop. Put a jacket on. It’s cool.”
It had been a cool and damp spring. Hayden reminded herself that all the rain was responsible for the lush green colors that had flooded the winter-gray landscape, but every now and again she couldn’t convince herself that it was a good thing. Mainly when Livie forgot and tracked mud through the house.
Livie sighed the sigh of the truly put upon. Hayden only laughed as she pulled her own coat on.
Livie was skipping across Miss Witman’s lawn before Hayden had the door shut. She hurried after her daughter, taking the sidewalk, not the lawn, not that Miss Witman would have minded. She was a sweet older lady and over the last three years had grown accustomed to the comings and goings between Hayden’s and Kathleen’s homes.
Kathleen’s front door stood open as Hayden approached. She hurried in and shut it behind her. “Livie Conway, were you born in a barn? It’s cold out and you left your Nana’s door …”
The sentence faded as she spotted her daughter, Kathleen and Brian in the living room.
“Surprise.” He was entangled in little girl, but he stood and walked toward Hayden, Livie holding tightly to him like a small chimp. Arms around his neck, legs around his stomach, as if she was afraid he’d disappear if she let go.
“I begged Mom to keep the secret,” he offered as an explanation, although it didn’t really answer anything about him arriving with a moving truck.
Kathleen was the picture of happiness as she looked from her son and granddaughter to Hayden. “It was the hardest thing he’s ever asked me to do. Secrets have never been my strongest suit.”
“Secret?” They all looked excited, and Hayden knew whatever the secret was, it was a good one.
“Mom, Daddy’s moving home. He’s staying with Nana until he can find his own house and he’s going to live here in Bridgeville—”
“Well, somewhere in the Pittsburgh area,” he corrected.
“From now on. Forever. I can see him all the time, and sometimes spend the night at his house, right, Daddy?”
Brian’s eyes never left Hayden. He watched her as he nodded. “Right.”
Hayden couldn’t sort out her emotions. On one hand, Livie was obviously delighted having her father so near; on the other, it had been relatively easy dealing with Brian when there was an entire continent between them, except for one long weekend a month. Would it make things harder if he demanded more time with Livie?
The mere thought made her feel guilty and she reminded herself of her old promise that she’d do whatever she could to facilitate Brian spending as much time as he could—as he wanted to—with their daughter.
“You’re moving back?” she asked just to be sure she was hearing things correctly.
He nodded again.
“For good?”
Another nod. “So, are you surprised?” He looked nervous, as if he wasn’t sure what her reaction would be.
“Flabbergasted.”
“Flabb … flabb … Say it again, Mommy.”
Hayden dutifully obeyed. “Flabbergasted.”
“Flabbergasted.” Livie nodded. “Spell it.”
“F-l-a-b-b-e-r-g-a-s-t-e-d.”
Livie parroted the letters back. Brian looked quizzically.
“We watched the last National Spelling Bee, and ever since, Livie’s been planning to be the champ someday, so she spells everything.”
“I didn’t know.” A flash of pain crossed his face.
He and Hayden had both worked so hard over the last five years to keep him and Livie connected. He’d read her a bedtime story before she was even old enough to register who the voice was coming from the receiver.
Noticing how missing so much hurt him, noticing how happy Livie was, again Hayden made a promise to herself to do whatever it took to share their daughter.
“I’m sorry,” Hayden said. “I thought I’d told you about the spelling bee-itis.”
“It’s okay. I’m here now, and I won’t miss out on things like spelling-bee champs in the making.”
“Daddy, Daddy, can I help carry in your boxes? How many do you have? It looks like a lot. Maybe Mommy’s friend Alex, could come help. Is Lisa in the back of the truck with the boxes? I’d like to ride in the back, but it would probably be dark.” Livie’s brow furrowed, then lightened. “But I could take the new flashlight Mommy bought me and then I wouldn’t mind, so I could try it.”
“What about a seat belt?” Hayden asked.
“Oh, yeah. I can’t ride without a seat belt. But maybe you’d take me for a ride in the front? It has a seat belt, right?”
“Right. And if Mommy says, you can ride with me when I take the truck back to the store,” Brian said, smiling at the mile-a
-minute monologues that Livie specialized in. His smile faded abruptly. “But about Lisa.”
He paused and then slowly said, “Honey, she’s not in the back of the van—”
“Oh. I guess it wouldn’t be fun riding with boxes if you didn’t have a flashlight. But she can use mine if she wants.”
He sat on the couch, and pulled Livie onto his lap, obviously as loath to release her as she was to release him. “That’s very generous of you to offer to share your flashlight. But Lisa’s not with me.”
“When does she arrive?” Hayden asked.
Hayden and Lisa had a painfully polite relationship. Lisa didn’t like her, and Hayden was all right with that. Hayden was pretty sure Lisa didn’t like Olivia, either. Had she been mean to Livie, Hayden would have said something, but Brian’s wife was the soul of politeness, so Hayden had let it ride, knowing it must be hard for Lisa to deal with Brian’s ready-made family.
“About Lisa,” Brian said again. He smoothed Livie’s wild hair a moment. “You see, she’s not coming. She’s staying in California. Daddy and Lisa aren’t going to be married anymore.”
“Oh. Because she didn’t like me?” Livie asked, echoing Hayden’s thoughts. Thoughts she’d never voiced to her daughter.
Livie was too smart, too intuitive for her own good sometimes.
“Livie, honey,” Brian said softly. Hayden could hear the emotion clogging his throat. “Lisa loved you. She still does. It’s just that Daddy and Lisa haven’t been happy in a long while. Sometimes that happens to grownups. They love each other for a while, and then they stop.”
“Maybe you’ll stop loving me?”
Brian hugged Livie fiercely. “Never. Parents never, ever stop loving their children.”
“Mommy’s mommy did. She doesn’t love Mommy or me. She never came to see us when she lived down the street. We met her at the grocery store one day when I was really little and she didn’t even say hi. I went with Mommy later to her mommy’s new home and she called Mommy a—”
“I know,” Kathleen said, interrupting the painful discussion, “let’s go out for ice cream and celebrate the fact my son’s come home.”