Yesterday's Embers

by Deborah Raney

  Tonight they’d pick up the kids from Wren’s. Mickey had missed them more than she expected to. At the same time she was nervous about what her role would be once they were all living under the same roof. Except for Kayeleigh, the kids seemed to adore her, and they’d always minded her just as if they were at the daycare.

  Kayeleigh was another story. Since she and Doug had announced their plans to marry last week, Kayeleigh had gone from studied indifference toward Mickey to outright hostility. Doug kept it tempered, but what would it be like when he wasn’t there?

  She hauled the two suitcases to the front door so they’d be ready for Doug to load, then went to the kitchen and tossed food from the pantry and the refrigerator into boxes. It wouldn’t go to waste at Doug’s house. In fact, the thought of grocery shopping for a family of seven was enough to make her quake in her shoes.

  She heard Doug’s truck pull in to the driveway and ran back to the bathroom to check her hair. She didn’t want to be one of those wives who let herself go once the ring was on her finger.

  That thought reminded her that she’d taken her rings off to work in the garden. She went to retrieve them from the little dish by the kitchen sink. Doug knocked before letting himself in the unlocked front door.

  He planted a perfunctory kiss on her cheek. “This stuff ready to go?”

  “Yes, but don’t you want to put the big stuff in first?”

  “What big stuff?”

  “Well, I thought I’d bring a couple of chairs and maybe that end table.” She pointed in the direction of the living room.

  He appeared not to hear her. He hefted a bag in each hand and carted them out to the pickup.

  “Well, nice to see you, too,” she said to the empty room. She lugged the end table from beside the sofa to the door. It would make a good nightstand in the master bedroom at Doug’s. She racked her brain to remember what else she’d thought of bringing when she walked through the farmhouse this morning. Drawing a blank, she rolled up two throw rugs to hide the worn spots in the living room carpet at the farmhouse. That done, she collected some of her favorite decorative items off the top of the bookcase, just so Doug wouldn’t think he’d wasted a trip.

  He came back in, and she pointed to the hodgepodge pile she’d assembled by the front door.

  “This is what you want to take?”

  She nodded, growing irritated with his tone.

  He propped his fists on his hips. “Mickey, where are we going to put this stuff? You think we can fit all this in my house?”

  What was this? A few minutes ago he’d been harping because he wanted to be sure to have enough stuff to fill the pickup. She pasted on a smile and tried to keep her voice light. “Your house?”

  Again he ignored her comment, as if he hadn’t heard her.

  Her temper simmered on its way to a boil. She forced herself to count to ten. “We can always bring stuff back if we don’t need it.”

  He shrugged and bent to collect an armful. “What’s this?” He held up the pet carrier.

  “It’s for Sasha. For in the car.”

  “You’re bringing her tonight?”

  “Well, I don’t want to leave her here alone again.”

  He set the carrier back on the floor. “Don’t you think we’re going to have enough adjustments without throwing a cat into the mix?”

  “But she was alone all weekend.”

  “Exactly. And she was fine. What’s one more night? She’s got food and water. You can stop by in the morning and check on her if you think you need to.”

  “It’s just…she’s not used to being left alone for so long.”

  He gave a dismissing wave. “Suit yourself. Seems like it would be better to wait until we get used to a routine before we try to fit a cat into the chaos.”

  “Doug, she won’t be any trouble. She’ll probably go hide under the bed for a couple of days anyway and—”

  “You mean under the porch?”

  “Doug, we already talked about that.” He’d been hinting that he didn’t want Sasha in the house, but that was one thing she was going to put her foot down about. Sasha wouldn’t survive a night against those tough farm cats.

  Without a reply he nudged the carrier out of the way with the toe of his boot and gripped the end table with both hands. Propping it against one thigh, he shoved the door open with his hip.

  Mickey went to hold the door for him. He brushed past with his back to her and carried the table out to the pickup.

  Before he came back for the next load, she unplugged two lamps and added them to the pile, just for spite. This was not a good way to start a marriage, but he was being a jerk, and right now she wasn’t in the mood to concede anything.

  She had to keep reminding herself that this would be an adjustment for all of them.

  Chapter Thirty

  Yeeooowwrrlll!” Sasha shot off the sofa and lit down the hall in a streak of calico.

  “Sorry, Mickey! Sorry! I didn’t mean to…” Landon spoke through hands clapped over his mouth and eyes as round as marble shooters.

  “What happened?”

  “I sorta accidentally sat on her.”

  Mickey felt her adrenaline spike, but she forced herself to remain calm. “It’s okay, buddy. It was an accident.” She was glad Doug was outside so she didn’t have to listen to his I-told-you-so.

  But just then the back door slammed, and Doug yelled a word Mickey was pretty sure the kids weren’t allowed to use. She jumped up and went running. “What happened?”

  “That”—he gritted his teeth—“cat.”

  Mickey could see he was working hard to rein in his temper. “What happened?”

  “She just about broke my neck, that’s what. I opened the door, and she ran out and I tripped over her.”

  Mickey gasped. “She got out?” She looked past Doug to the yard. The sun was settling onto the horizon, and it would be dark in a few minutes. “You mean she’s still out there? Why didn’t you get her?”

  He shot her a look of disdain. “You mean besides the fact that I was trying to keep from breaking my neck?”

  Mickey let out a growl of her own and flew out the door, calling for Sasha. “Here kitty, kitty…”

  Doug followed and came up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “She’ll be fine, Mick. Just leave her be. She’ll come back when she gets hungry.”

  She shrugged out from under his touch and answered between clenched teeth. “She doesn’t have claws, Doug. She can’t defend herself out here. She can’t even climb a tree to get away from the dogs.”

  “The dogs are penned up. Come on in. She’ll come back. You’re not going to find her in the dark.”

  Mickey swallowed back tears. She should have listened to Doug and left Sasha at home, where she was safe. If the dogs didn’t get her—or coyotes—Sasha would be lucky to survive two days at this madhouse with Landon sitting on her and Harley yanking her tail.

  She waved Doug away. “Go on in. I’m going to try to find her.”

  “Fine.” Behind her the back screen door slammed.

  For the next twenty minutes she circled Doug’s acreage and walked around the barn calling for Sasha. She’d heard Doug warn the kids not to go in the old barn, saying it was unstable. That was probably exactly where Sasha was hiding, but she didn’t respond to Mickey’s voice. By the time she got back to the farmhouse, the DeVores’ four outdoor cats were trailing her like rats after the Pied Piper, but still no sign of Sasha.

  Peering into the dusk, she scanned the horizon one more time, then looked up into the night sky. “God, please help me find her. Don’t let anything happen to her.” Doug would think she was silly praying for a cat, but she didn’t care.

  She went back into the house with her head down, leaving the door ajar so she could hear Sasha through the screen if she came back.

  Doug had turned off the TV and was trying to get the kids organized for what Kayeleigh said her mom called a “cleaning spree.” Kayeleigh seeme
d determined to bring up “how Mom did it” at every opportunity. And so far Mickey hadn’t done anything “how Mom did it”…in other words, Mickey couldn’t do anything right.

  She was trying not to be too fussy, but Doug and the kids had supposedly cleaned the house before she moved in. If that were true, she was glad she hadn’t seen the “before” photos. She hated to start out their marriage nagging, but she couldn’t live this way. She’d mustered up as much tact as she could find and asked Doug if they could take this evening, as a family, to do some deep cleaning. The kids had griped when he announced the plan, but then they wouldn’t be normal kids if they got excited about housework. And Doug seemed agreeable.

  She’d tried to make an event of it. Doug had grilled burgers for dinner, and together they made homemade ice cream for later, when they were finished. Earlier, when Mickey put potatoes, wrapped in foil, in the oven to bake, Kayeleigh informed her that “Mom always just butters the potatoes and puts them right on the rack to bake.”

  The filthy, crusted-over oven hinted that Kaye might have baked a lot of things that way. Mickey bit her tongue and added clean the oven to her project list for Saturday. At least Kayeleigh was speaking to her. After the reception she’d received when Doug announced they were getting married, she’d expected to be ignored—or worse.

  She had to keep reminding herself that this would be an adjustment for all of them. And Doug and his kids had already made the most horrible of adjustments. She tried to take that into account, too.

  “What do you want me to do?” she asked Doug now, keeping one ear tuned to the door for Sasha.

  “Do you want to take kitchen duty?” He put an arm around her, testing, she knew. “I’m going to go out and cut a slat to fit that bed frame, then I’ll help Kayeleigh and Landon do the living room and bedrooms. We’ll keep an eye on Harley. Sound okay?”

  “Um…how about if I get Sarah and Sadie on my team?” It didn’t exactly seem fair for the six of them to go off together while she slaved by herself in the kitchen.

  The twins cheered and ran to claim her hands.

  “Oh, sure.” Doug looked sheepish. “Didn’t mean to make the teams so lopsided.”

  “I didn’t know this was a team sport.” She forced a smile and raised an eyebrow, trying to add levity to a topic that didn’t exactly feel light.

  But he laughed and reached over the girls’ heads to kiss her.

  “Ewww.” Landon screwed up his nose. “Could you guys not do that in here?”

  “I like it when they kiss,” Sadie said. “Kiss Miss Mickey again.”

  “Yeah!” Sarah echoed her twin.

  “Kiss Miss Mickey! Kiss Miss Mickey!” Harley joined in the chant.

  “Just don’t look, Landon.”

  Grinning at Mickey, Doug moved the twins and Harley out of the way, grabbed her in a bear hug, then dipped her for a Scarlett and Rhett clench. “Close your eyes, buddy. Hurry, close your eyes. Here it comes…ewww gross…” Doug mimicked Landon and plastered another kiss on Mickey, milking it for laughs.

  The three little girls cheered and Mickey giggled, extricating herself from his arms reluctantly, her spirits worlds lighter—until she caught sight of Kayeleigh leaning against the doorjamb. Arms folded over her chest, the look on the girl’s face made Mickey suspect she was remembering, with pain, a time when it had been her mother giggling in Doug’s embrace.

  Sobered, and aching for Kayeleigh, but knowing she was not the one to comfort her, she gathered the twins, one under each arm, and pointed them in the direction of the kitchen. “Come on, you two. We’ve got our work cut out for us.”

  It never crossed her mind that they might make a baby together.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Kayeleigh’s legs felt like lead as she trudged back to the master bedroom. She could hear Sarah and Sadie laughing with Miss Valdez in the kitchen. They got the easy job and she got stuck cleaning Mom and Dad’s room—Dad and her room, she corrected herself.

  She paused in the hallway outside the half-closed door, sucking in a shallow breath. She could hardly stand to look at the bed and think about Dad sharing it with her. Until last night, the queen-size bed hadn’t been made since that terrible Thanksgiving morning. Now it was neatly made up, the pillows stacked just so against the headboard.

  Apparently Miss Valdez wasn’t only a neat freak at the daycare. Dad had made them clean the whole house before they went to Wren’s—before he ran off and got married without even asking what they thought about it.

  But apparently that wasn’t good enough for her.

  Miss Valdez must have made a big deal over what a mess the house was, and Dad cracked down on all of them. He’d been a big crab since the minute they got home. Not that she actually heard Miss Valdez say anything, but Kayeleigh wasn’t blind. Kayeleigh had seen the look on her face when she’d stepped through the door with all the junk from her house in town. Home from the honeymoon and making herself right at home in their house. Mom’s house. It made Kayeleigh want to throw up.

  Ever since she’d walked through that door as Dad’s new wife, they couldn’t leave so much as a Kleenex lying around without Dad climbing all over their case. Just this morning he’d chewed their butts again about not doing a good enough job of cleaning last time. So now they had to spend the whole night on another stupid cleaning spree.

  Dragging a giant black trash bag behind her, she pushed the door open and crept into the room as if there might be a boogeyman waiting there for her.

  She was a little embarrassed at how messy the house had gotten since Mom die—She stopped the word from forming in her mind. Since Thanksgiving. She really had tried to keep things straightened up, just in case Mom could see them from heaven. But no matter how she tried, it never lasted for long.

  Since Grandma had moved back to Florida, Wren had come out a couple of times to help, but with Harley running around messing stuff up as fast as they could clean it, it wasn’t easy. Not to mention Landon the Slob.

  Gathering up the trash throughout the house had always been her chore. No big deal usually, but today it felt like climbing that mountain they’d studied about in geography last week—Mount Everest. It felt as if she were carrying a thousand pounds on her back as she walked through the bedroom to the master bath.

  Mom’s little basket of makeup and perfume was gone from the counter, and Mickey’s things sat in its place.

  For a long time after Mom died, this room had smelled like her—a sweet vanilla and baby powder scent. It smelled different now. Like her. Mom’s dingy pink bathrobe that used to hang on the back of the door had been replaced with Mickey’s fancy lavender robe. After Mom died, Kayeleigh used to sneak in here and bury her face in the folds of that pink robe, wrap the sleeves around her shoulders and pretend Mom was giving her a hug.

  She reached out and fingered the sleeve of Mickey’s robe, feeling like she was doing something forbidden—and wishing she could wad the robe up and stuff it down the toilet.

  She took a ragged breath and looked past Mickey’s bottles and sprays lined up on the long countertop. Mom had always said that when Kayeleigh and Rachel were both teenagers, the four girls could move into this room with its separate bath and twin sinks. She’d dreamed about that day—she and Rachel had looked through the JCPenney catalog one autumn day, picking out the bedspreads and rugs they would have ordered if they were teenagers. Her throat closed up, and she put a hand on her chest and sucked in a breath. She hadn’t thought of that memory with Rachel since that day.

  She would never share this bedroom with Rachel. She didn’t think she ever wanted this room now, even if Dad would let her. It would just be too weird.

  She emptied the overflowing wastebasket from under Dad’s sink into the trash bag. She opened the cabinet under Mom’s sink. The little wicker trash basket was almost empty since she’d cleaned in here last week. It held a few tissues and a contact lens package that must have been Mickey’s. Thanks to Mickey, Dad had ordered her to emp
ty out all the cupboards and scrub everything top to bottom. It was his stupid bedroom. Why didn’t he do it if it was so important that it be spotless for her?

  She yanked the trash basket out and piled the stack of clean towels beside it—the ones Mom only got out when they had company staying overnight.

  She dropped to her knees and stooped to look into the cupboard. A handful of trash had apparently missed the basket and collected in the corner. She wrinkled her nose and scooped everything to the front of the cupboard. A lipstick-stained Kleenex floated to the floor. That pretty peach color Mom always wore. Gingerly, Kayeleigh smoothed the tissue out on her knee and stared at the perfect, pouty lip prints, trying to remember Mom’s smile, the twinkle her blue eyes always held when she laughed.

  The image wouldn’t come.

  Mom had only been gone a few months, and Kayeleigh had already forgotten what she looked like. Dad had taken down all the pictures of Mom and put away the photo albums before he ran off and got married. Now Kayeleigh didn’t know where they were. Maybe she would search for them. She had a right to a picture of her own mother.

  But it bothered her that she couldn’t remember. By heart. And if she couldn’t remember now, what would she remember a year from now? Or two? Or on her own wedding day?

  She put her face in her hands. Why did it still hurt so bad to think about Mom? Grandma said that as time passed, memories of Mom would make her smile again. But that hadn’t happened yet. Mostly she wanted to not think about any of it—Mom, Dad and Miss Valdez…It all just hurt too much.

  She folded the tissue into a tight square and tucked it in her pocket, careful not to tear it. With a square of paper towel, she swept the rest of the trash into the wastebasket. She tipped it upside down over the open garbage bag, but the bag shifted and trash scattered every which way. Something clattered onto the tile floor and a flash of purple plastic caught her eye as it slid across the tile, then came to rest against the baseboard. She scrambled to retrieve it.