Matthew’s stomach rumbled so loudly they all heard it. “Mom, are we still going out for breakfast?”
“Yes, and from the sounds of it, we’d best get a move on. Keira, do you want to come along?” Brandy decided to treat her daughter like an adult. Maybe this was the key to getting their relationship back on track. She was willing to try anything.
“Yes. Give me five minutes,” she said, then gave her mother a quick hug, poked Matthew’s shoulder, and practically skipped out of the room.
Brandy looked at her son. “What was that all about?”
He sighed, and smiled at her. “She’s decided she didn’t like the Goth look? I don’t know. Whatever it is, I think she should stay this way. She’s nicer without that makeup and purple hair. She’s been pretty nice to me, though.”
“Whatever the reason, I am not going to push my luck by questioning it. She’s herself, and we are going to eat breakfast. Give me a couple minutes to get ready.”
“Sure.” Matthew seemed to stand taller, his shoulders squared, more confident.
In the master bath, she took a two-minute shower, then slipped on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She let her hair frame her face, deciding she liked the shorter version better. She appeared more youthful, less dragged down. Before she changed her mind, she added a few swipes of mascara, blush, and a soft pink lipstick. Spying her favorite Lancôme perfume, Miracle, she spritzed it on her neck and the insides of her wrists. Saving perfume for “that special day” was ludicrous. Every day was special, a gift to be taken advantage of. She knew life could change in seconds. And she also knew, she was going to cherish every moment from here on.
Hurrying now, she entered the kitchen. “Here you go,” Keira said, handing her a to-go cup of coffee. She had one for herself as well.
“Starbucks. I’m addicted,” she said before Brandy had a chance to ask her when she’d started drinking coffee. Apparently, this was just one more thing she’d missed.
“Thanks,” she said, and took a sip. “Yum.” She grinned, and her daughter grinned back. Truly a miracle, she thought, as they walked out to the car. “Let me drive, Mom. Save your gas.”
Brandy was so shocked at Keira’s sudden about-face, she was almost suspicious. Was she playing games? No, no, no!
She had to stop questioning every single action, every motive of those she loved.
“Okay, I’m game,” Brandy said, piling into her daughter’s white Toyota hybrid. It was then that she realized she’d never actually been a passenger in her daughter’s car. Yes, she had allowed her to drive when she got her learner’s permit, but it had always been in her car, and on her terms. She sat in the backseat. “Matthew, you sit up front. You’re way too big to fit in the backseat.”
“Thanks, Mom. Keira makes me sit back there sometimes, but it’s okay.”
Keira poked him with her elbow. “You’re the little brother. You’re supposed to ride in the back,” she quipped, but in a teasing way.
Her daughter fastened her seat belt, adjusted her rearview mirror, then her side mirror, then hit the start button. The car hardly made any sound at all. She reversed down the drive, then wound her way through the side streets that led to the main road. “Where to?”
“You two pick,” Brandy said.
“There’s this cool place that just opened,” Matthew said. It’s called the Starlight Diner. They have musicians. Could we go there?”
Brandy’s heart fluttered as though a bird were trapped inside and struggled to get out. In three years, well, almost three years, this was the first time she’d heard Matthew mention the word music. She caught Keira’s wink in the rearview mirror.
“I’ve heard they have the best breakfast in town,” Keira said. “Starlight Diner, here we come.”
Overnight, her kids had returned to normal, and she’d turned over a new leaf. Maybe Christmas was a magical time. She wasn’t going to question these changes. She was going to enjoy the moment.
Chapter Twelve
Ryan spent the rest of the night filling out the papers that would give him ownership of the house on Seahorse Lane. Phillip and Nan were still awake when he’d returned to pick up Lily last night. He was on cloud nine when he arrived, telling them all about Brandy. He truly was like a kid at Christmas.
Not only was he purchasing his dream home, he was really starting to look forward to the possibility that he could share his and Lily’s life with another woman. And maybe that woman was Brandy. They’d spent three hours talking nonstop, and he hadn’t ever been as attracted so quickly to a woman. Not even Anna. Their relationship was slow and easy. No need to rush, they’d said. They had their whole lives ahead of them. They couldn’t have been more wrong.
Brandy told him how she’d grieved, and how she’d just come to the realization that her kids were strangers to her, and she to them. She told him about her son, Matthew, and how tall he’d become. How he’d had to borrow clothes to wear. He never met the young guy, but he felt sorry for him. He remembered those incredibly awkward years when he had sprouted up like the Jolly Green Giant. He’d outgrown his clothes in a matter of months. His mother, bless her heart, had done her best, but he, too, knew what it was like to wear borrowed clothes and hand-me-downs. His mother had passed away before Lily was born. She would’ve adored her, and Lily would have adored his mother, her namesake, too. But, he’d managed to get by, and because he’d studied hard, like his mother told him, he had received a full academic scholarship to Florida State University, where’d he’d earned his bachelor’s degree as well as his doctorate in education. He knew life could be tough, but he also knew you really could make lemonade out of lemons.
He’d fallen asleep at his desk and almost jumped out of his skin when Lily spoke. “Dad, are you awake?”
“Yes, I am now. What’s up, sugar bug?”
“Daaaddd, you said you’d stop calling me that, remember?” she reminded him.
“Sorry.” Yes, he remembered that she’d asked him to stop calling her that last summer when Cara was over. Lily told him Cara said it was a baby name. And, of course, he’d done his best, but he still had an occasional slipup. He was just a dad. He raked a hand through his hair.
“I dreamed about the house with the hot tub last night,” Lily said. “Me and Cara and Joy and Lisa were swimming, and this giant frog jumped out of the lake, and jumped in the pool with us. He wasn’t scary. He was nice. He said he wanted to be our Lily pads. Isn’t that funny? A frog wanting to be a lily pad?” She giggled in her eight-year-old way, and Ryan laughed with her.
“That was some dream,” he admitted. “Now, I think it’s time I had a cup of coffee. What about you?”
She giggled and wrapped her hand around his waist. “I don’t drink coffee, silly; that’s for big people.”
He lifted her up on his shoulders, and they raced through the house, pretending they were being chased by a purple horse. Why this, he had no clue. Lily had come up with this when she was around three, and ever since, when he hoisted her onto his shoulders, they were being chased by a purple horse.
“Dad”—she placed her hands around his neck—“can we have breakfast now? I’m really hungry.”
He lifted her off his shoulders and gently put her on the floor. “Yes, we can. You want pancakes?”
“Yep! Daddy, think we’ll get the hot-tub house? I really, really would like to live there. I want a Christmas tree in front of those big windows.” Lily sat in her chair at the table in the kitchen, hands folded, cupping her heart-shaped face. “A real one. Not a fake one. Can we get a real big one? And can we go to the mall? I want to see Santa and tell him what I want for Christmas. Can we, Daddy?”
Lily talked nonstop as he made pancakes with crispy bacon. He sipped his coffee while he cooked, listening to her. She was so full of life. Her Christmas spirit was catching. “I think a real tree would be perfect. They smell really nice.”
“Not like a cat box?” she teased.
He turned to look at her. “
What’s up with the cat-box thing?”
“Grandma is cat sitting for her neighbors’ cat. I love the cat. He’s old, his name is Clovis. But that box he goes to the bathroom in stinks. Grandma said all cat boxes stink, and that you get used to it after a while. I don’t think I want a cat. I like Clovis, but I would like a dog. Can we get a dog? I want a dog for Christmas. Do you think Santa would bring me a puppy if I promised to take care of it?”
This had been her request for the last two years. A puppy. At first, he’d thought she was too young, and the novelty would wear off once she saw the work involved, but now, he thought it was something to consider. “We can ask Santa, I suppose.” He put a plate of pancakes in front of her.
“So does that mean we’re going to the mall?” she asked.
The kid knew how to play him. He laughed out loud. “I guess it does, but first we have to stop by that real estate office so we can get the keys to our new home.”
Lily’s eyes sparkled like a million bright lights. “Really and truly?”
He nodded. “Really and truly.” What he didn’t say: how he’d spent the night negotiating a cash offer, how he’d been on pins and needles as he waited for the e-mail telling him that his offer was accepted. At 6:18, his computer pinged that an e-mail had come. The owners had accepted his offer, and he could pick the keys up today. He’d never acted so out of character in his life. He always played it safe, by the rules. Looked to the future, but cautiously, and when he had seen Lily’s eyes light up yesterday, he knew this house had to be their home. So he’d spent the night doing his best to make it happen, and it had. He couldn’t wait to tell Phillip and Nan.
“Why don’t you call your grandparents and tell them we’re moving?”
“And getting a dog, too?” she added.
“I wouldn’t tell them that yet.”
He dialed their number and handed her his cell phone. “We’re moving. And going to the mall to get a Christmas tree that’s real. And Dad says maybe a dog because we don’t want a bad cat-box smell in our new house.”
He could hear Nan laughing.
“Let me speak to Grandma,” he said, reaching for the phone. “Finish your pancakes.”
He washed the skillet he’d used to fry the bacon in while he spoke. “Let me clarify a few things. We are going to the mall. To see Santa, of course. And if Lily is a really good girl”—he spoke extra loud because he knew she was hanging on his every word—“we might ask Santa for a puppy. But first we have to stop by the real estate agent’s office to pick up the keys to our new house.”
After listening to Nan for a minute he said, “Thanks, I’m thrilled.” He spoke for a few more minutes, then clicked off.
“Why don’t you get your teeth brushed and find something to wear while I finish cleaning up? I need to take a shower myself.” He raked a hand across his stubble. “And shave,” he added to no one in particular.
Hadn’t Brandy mentioned something about going to the mall? He was sure she had. Picking up his pace, he tossed the remaining dishes in the dishwasher and raced to the shower.
Fifteen minutes later, they were in the car heading toward the Thomas Edison Mall. It would be packed with shoppers. Sale signs would be posted in all the windows. Christmas was definitely around the corner.
He made fast work of picking up the keys to the house on Seahorse Lane. Lily hopped from one foot to the other while he finished signing the rest of the papers.
“Thank you, Mr. Rogers. It’s been a pleasure.”
He shook hands with the agent, then led Lily out to the car.
“Now, are we going to the mall?” she asked.
“Yes. Let the Christmas countdown begin,” he said cheerily.
Chapter Thirteen
Matthew ordered three scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns, with a side of biscuits and gravy.
“I’ll have the same,” Keira said.
Surprised, Brandy said, “Make it three.”
The Starlight Diner was a tribute to music of all genres. Rock. Pop. Soul. Country. Pictures of famous bands and singers lined the walls, and, for a moment, Brandy was reminded of Jeff and his dreams of becoming a rock star. Somehow, in this environment, they didn’t seem as childish and unrealistic as she’d thought only yesterday. But Jeff was gone, and that wasn’t going to happen. At least not in this life.
Before she started brooding over the past, Brandy asked Matthew, “Have you been here before?”
He looked at Keira, who kicked him beneath the table. “Go on. Tell her.”
She looked from one child to the other. “Tell me what?” Good grief, was he in trouble? Had he been kicked out of school? Did he have a girlfriend? And was she pregnant? A million thoughts swirled through her mind in less than a nanosecond.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Keira said, then, realizing her words, said, “You know what I mean. Not a real ghost. If there is such a thing, which personally I don’t believe in, but to each his own.” Keira was truly her old self. Talking a mile a minute. Brandy wanted to leap over the table and grab her in her arms, but she didn’t want to humiliate these kids who she’d just rediscovered were the coolest on the planet.
“If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I am going to . . . I don’t know what, but, please, don’t keep me in suspense any longer.” She looked at her son.
His eyes were shiny, his cheeks had a healthy glow, and she knew whatever he had to tell her was important, and whatever it was, it made him happy. And right now, in the precarious life she had, they had, it was all that mattered.
“I’ve been playing guitar with this band here on Saturday nights. For three months.”
She didn’t say a word.
“I didn’t want to tell you. I thought you might get mad at me, and, well, it’s the kind of music I want to play.”
“And,” Brandy prompted.
“And that’s it. I just wanted you to know. I get twenty dollars every time we play. I’ve saved it all. So when we get to the mall, I can buy my own stuff so you don’t have to.”
“Matthew Heyers! How did you keep this from me? I thought you’d lost interest in your music. You don’t attend lessons anymore, and I just . . . Well, whatever I thought, I was wrong. I’m thrilled for you.” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand.
“Tell her the rest of it,” Keira encouraged.
“The rest of what?” Brandy asked.
Their waitress set their plates in front of them then. There was enough food to feed a horse, Brandy thought after thanking her.
“I stopped going to music lessons because . . . because Mr. Wyatt said he had to get paid.” Matthew dug into his food, not meeting her eyes.
Had she really been that self-centered in her grief that she hadn’t even paid for her son’s music lessons? Matthew was a gifted musician with a bright future, with dreams of attending Juilliard in New York City. Had her negligence cost him his education? Mr. Wyatt had always said Matthew had a very good chance of being accepted into the prestigious school and would most likely earn a scholarship.
Had she unknowingly ruined his chances for a career in music?
“We tried to tell you, but . . .” Keira shrugged.
“There is no excuse for this. Death or not, I should’ve paid more attention to you. Both of you,” she said, and reached for Keira’s hand, too.
“It’s cool, Mom, really. In a way, I’m glad—because I . . . I really don’t want to go to Juilliard. I want to stay here. I want to teach music. Like Dad.”
She truly didn’t know her children, the young adults they’d become while she had spent her days and nights in her room crying for a life that was over the minute Jeff drew his last breath. She had ruined so much; she wasn’t sure if she could ever make it up to them, but she would do her best to try. And from now on, Jeff would always be in her heart, but now, he could no longer exist in her day-to-day life.
“I don’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry’ seems downright dumb, but
I am sorry. For both of you. I’m sorry you lost your father, but I’m even sorrier you lost me when I needed to be here. In the present. With both of you. Would it be too much to ask you two to forgive me? Just a little?” Her eyes filled with tears. She dabbed at them with her napkin. These weren’t tears of sadness, they were tears of regret, tears of renewal, and tears because her kids were so darned mature and cool and all that other gobbledygook stuff.
“I’m okay, Mom, really,” Matthew insisted. “I’ve been a jerk, too. Spending all my time in my room. I just wanted to listen to my music and escape.”
“I understand,” Brandy said.
“So, we’re all good now,” Keira asked. “I am so through with being Goth. Just so you know. I think I kind of like the Taylor Swift look. I’m going to get a tube of bright red lipstick at the mall.”
They all looked at one another and cracked up laughing.
Brandy knew in her heart they were going to be perfectly fine.
Chapter Fourteen
Christmas carols filtered through hidden speakers throughout the mall. Shoppers carried the familiar red shopping bags from Macy’s. Store windows were decked out in the latest holiday theme, which this year seemed to be a return to the classic Christmas decor of the early fifties. At least this is what Ryan thought of as classic Christmas stuff. Sleighs and fake reindeer. Snowmen and mugs filled with hot chocolate. Warm sugar cookies scented the air, tempting the shoppers to forget about their diets. A little taste wouldn’t hurt.
There were about fifty or so people in line ahead of them, and he knew it would move slowly. Santa had to listen to each and every child’s request and their promises to be good.
Santa sat in a large, red, velvet-covered chair. Several elves danced their way through the long lines, passing out candy canes if the parents allowed. What parent wouldn’t allow their child to have a candy cane while waiting their turn to see Santa? He scanned the line. Most of the kids who’d been approached had candy canes. Good.
The Most Wonderful Time Page 7