by Drea Stein
“Now, now, I didn’t hear anything about a divorce. Your parents are just taking some time off.”
Tory whirled, the end of the scarf she was wearing catching a set of wind chimes and setting them tinkling. She sighed. She felt like a bull in a china shop.
“Time off? My mom moved out.”
Joan sighed.
“What is it?”
“Tory I’ve known you all of your life, and you’re a practical girl. You take after your father that way.”
Tory grunted. “Practical. I think you just described my mother to a T.”
Joan shook her head. “She wasn’t always like that. And your father wasn’t quite the stodgy old bean counter he is today.”
“I know. I know. They were high school sweethearts.”
“But you don’t know the whole story. Look, it’s not my place to tell, but wait a second.”
Joan disappeared behind a curtain that Tory knew led to a cluttered office. There was the sound of things being moved around, a muttered curse and then a triumphant cry.
“Knew I had it,” Joan emerged, waving a thick book.
“What is that?”
“Our high school yearbook. Your mom and dad’s.”
“I’ve never seen it,” Tory said, looking at the book Joan laid down on the counter. “But that can’t be the right year. Mom always said she graduated a few years earlier.”
Joan shook her head. “Your mother is the only woman I know who lies about her age the wrong way.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Why don’t you take a look?”
Tory opened the book, flipped through pages. She saw big bangs, chunky sweaters, leg warmers and lots of references to John Hughes movies.
She came to the page where her mother was, looked at the picture—and at the inscription.
“Of course, those pictures were taken in the fall, but the whole class voted on that.”
“They got cutest couple,” Tory said.
“Yup, your mom was the captain of the cheerleading team and wanted to be a lawyer. Your dad was a star basketball player and wanted to go pro. At least that’s what he said. Secretly, I think the man was born to be an accountant.”
“But this is the year before I was born,” Tory said.
“You were always pretty good at math. I suspect that’s why your mother made sure you never found the yearbook. Wanted to throw her copy out, but I told her I would keep it.”
“You mean to tell me I was born—”
“About nine months after prom if I do the math right.”
“Oh….”
“Here, take a seat.” Joan pulled around the stool she kept behind the register.
Tory sat on the stool.
“So, you mean to tell me that my mom was the original teen mom?”
Joan nodded. “Your dad did right by your mom, asked her to marry him, quit basketball, took night classes and became an accountant. Your mom decided not to go to college, stayed home with you. Money was tight, and Linda’s mom and dad wouldn’t give them a dime. No one thought it would last, but Linda and George … well, they proved them wrong. Showed that they were mature enough to do it right.”
“My mom said they couldn’t have any more kids, but maybe she didn’t want any more.”
“No, it was true. Your mom had a blood clot sometime after you were born, so the doctor said it would be safest not to get pregnant again. So, your mom put everything she had into you.”
“She never went to college? Why not?”
Joan sighed and turned the yearbook back to her.
“Your dad was the big man on campus and those two were crazy about each other – couldn’t keep their hands off of each other – obviously.”
Tory waved a hand. She did not want to think about her parents that way.
“Your grand-dad – well you know he wasn’t in the picture – so your dad had to take care of his mom, your mom, you, even his little brother and sister. Your dad took being the breadwinner, a dad, very seriously and he was good at it. So good I think your mom and dad forgot about why they got together in the first place. Their first thought, first priority was always you and the rest of the family. Your mom took it a bit to the extreme, of course, pushing you school-wise, keeping you away from boys. But you’re a grown woman now and I think maybe she feels it’s time to live her own life, pursue some of her own dreams.”
“Do you think they still love each other?”
Joan thought for a moment. “Those two were star-struck lovers back then. It wasn’t just hormones. They’ve kept it together for a long time. I think maybe they both got a little lazy—your dad especially. Happens to married men.”
“You think my mom’s just trying to shake things up?”
Joan looked at Tory. “Your mom and dad were best friends first. I don’t think that’s changed. Your mom wants to live a little, have some adventures, but I can’t imagine that she wants to do it alone.”
Tory nodded slowly, thinking about what this all meant.
Joan looked at her shrewdly. “I know your mom’s always told you that boys were bad, but you’re all grown up. Marriage and love are complicated, but if it’s with the right person, it’s worth it. Don’t forget that, Tory.”
Tory nodded again. “Could I keep this for a bit?”
Joan thought for a moment. “Sure, I guess. Your mom will find out sooner or later that I told you, I’m guessing.”
Chapter 48
“Dad, what are you going to do about this?” Her father looked up as she walked into the backyard. It was a warm day, perfect weather, the promise of summer just around the corner. She’d gone back to Colby’s house after talking to Joan, taken Princess for a walk and talked while Princess listened. She had tried to figure out how much she should meddle.
In the end, she had decided she needed to talk to her dad. Maybe her mom was right. Maybe he was the one who needed to bend a little. She found him outside, taking the canvas cloth cover off of his outboard fishing skiff. It was a fifteen-foot long Bayline, bought used, with twin fifty horsepower engines. His pride and joy, well-used and even better taken care of.
“About what, dear?” her father said mildly as he leaned over to check on the condition of the seats. One was slightly cracked, and she knew her father was thinking just how best to repair it without having to spring for the cost of replacing it.
Her father reached in and swept out some loose leaves and dumped them into the pail he’d brought along.
“About mom leaving,” Tory said. The sun was warm on her back, and she knew her dad was itching to be out on the water.
“Your mother didn’t leave,” her father said mildly, but she could see that his hands were clenched around the handle of the bucket.
“So, what do you call the fact that she’s now living in her own place in town?”
“Your mother just needs a little space, that’s all,” her father said, and then his lips set in that hard, firm line she recognized. Her father was getting his stubborn on.
But then she looked again and saw that, behind his glasses, George Somers was blinking his eyes furiously, like he was desperately trying to blink back tears.
“Oh, Dad,” Tory said. She came around the side of the boat to him. They’d never been much of a hugging family, but this seemed as good a time as any to get started with a new habit. She reached out and pulled her dad into a big one.
He stayed there for a moment and then pulled away, removing his glasses and dashing his hands against his eyes.
“She said I should have seen it coming, that she’s been dropping hints for years, but that I was too blind to see them.”
“Oh, Dad.” Tory’s heart went out to him, but she knew her mother probably had.
“She wanted to take vacations—you know, travel a bit. She said that there should be plenty of money now that you were out of college, that we’d be saving all of these years for a rainy day. And then she wanted a fancy dinner on her birthday o
r anniversary.”
“Those are nice things,” Tory said.
“I know. But they never meant much to me. Your mom’s cooking was always good enough for me.”
“Maybe she wanted you to cook her dinner once in a while.”
“I’m no good at it,” her father protested.
“Sometimes that isn’t the point,” Tory said.
“It always seems like such a big deal to go and travel and leave this place.”
“Maybe you should send her with a friend.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m proud of her starting a business, and I hear it’s doing well, not that she’ll let me help by looking over her financials. She said she has some sort of software that does it all for her. Why she should pay rent on an office, when she could just work out of the house?”
“Maybe it makes her feel more professional,” Tory pointed out. She could sympathize with both sides of her parents’ argument. Her mother’s happiness at her newfound career and independence and the desire to pursue some of her dreams. They weren’t crazy ones—making money, traveling, a nice car, or some new clothes. And her father was a man of habit, hard to shake out of his rut. But a marriage was supposed to be about compromise, and it wasn’t as if her mom was asking her dad to jump out of a plane.
“You know, she wanted to go skydiving for her last birthday, asked if I wanted to go with her. She said, if I didn’t, I could just get her a gift certificate.”
“Skydiving?” Tory said, her eyes too wide. Ok, so maybe her mother was going a little crazy. Why would she want to jump out of a plane when there was perfectly good earth right under her feet?
“Dad, I’m with you on the skydiving thing, but maybe Mom has a point. I know when you were first married, money was tight, what with you still in school and everything, but I kind of get the feeling that it’s not like that anymore, right? That you have … what do you call it, some disposable income?”
Her father looked up. “I suppose so,” he answered.
“And Mom does seem to be earning her own money, and she should be able to spend it how she pleases.”
“She should save some of it.”
Tory nodded. “Right, she should save some of it, too, but you know, maybe she’s not asking for your permission anymore. Maybe she just wants your company on some of her adventures.”
Her father sighed. “I don’t know if I’m the adventuresome type.”
Tory nodded. Her grandfather had left his family practically destitute and she knew that was part of the reason her dad was so cautious. He’d learned the hard way about not saving for a rainy day.
“You’re not that old, right? I mean, you guys were babies when you had me. I mean, well … look at this.”
She pulled out the yearbook Joan had given her and handed it to her dad.
“Oh,” he said.
“I can do the math, and I don’t care. I guess it explains a lot … I mean, maybe more than a lot. But, you know, I was looking through those pictures, seeing the two of you in so many. You looked like you were having fun. You looked like you were in love.”
“We were,” her father said softly, turning over the pages.
“I don’t know, Dad. Maybe it’s time for a second act—you know, treat Mom, like, well … like you have to woo her back. Show her that you’re willing to make some compromises. It’s been almost thirty years; you shouldn’t give up on her.”
“Woo her?” her father said uncertainly.
“Show her you need her—but not because you can’t take care of yourself,” Tory said hastily. “Show her that you want to have her company. Make her dinner, buy her dinner, even if it’s pizza, or suggest you go on a little trip— even a night out in the city. Or a movie, if that’s too much for you. Give yourself a night off from the TV and do something. Go for a walk, a picnic, maybe a boat across the Sound, something that doesn’t require a fishing pole.”
Her father nodded slowly. “We didn’t have much of a chance to date when we were young. Things happened rather quickly.”
“I think Mom’s trying to give you a chance to show her that you need her as more than a cook and a housekeeper.”
“I don’t think of her like that,” he sputtered.
Tory said nothing, just looked at him.
“Well, I mean, she never said … anything, not really. And, well, it wasn’t like she had a job, I mean besides you.”
“Now she does.”
“She didn’t need to get one,” he said proudly.
“Maybe not for money, but she needed one for herself, and she wanted one, and … well, you have to respect that, right? Support her in her decision.”
Her father slumped against the boat and nodded. “Ok, I guess I see what you’re saying.”
Chapter 49
Colby looked down at the circle of gold and diamonds that winked and blinked on the square of blue velvet. It looked so insubstantial to mean so much. He’d gotten back from Vegas—he’d fled, really, even though it had been a good trip. He’d made some good contacts, maybe sold a Ferrari, but all he could think about was his cottage, the sea breezes and, most of all, Tory. He hadn’t been joking when he’d asked her to come with him, but he had also never thought she would say yes. She stayed close to him but kept him at a distance, just as she had told him she would.
He didn’t know how else to show her what she meant to him except to put it all on the line. He had to know, to find out if she were ready to give more. Because he was ready to give her everything. That’s why he had stopped at the jewelry store, on a whim.
“You’re going to scare her away, sugar,” the voice behind him purred.
“Eleanor. What are you doing here?”
“I was strolling through the charming little village when I see you here, looking at all of these baubles and shiny things.”
“I was just looking,” he said and knew it came across defensively.
“Sugar, you must be serious. No man just looks at rings of gold and diamonds. Is this for the little college girl you’ve got your eye on?”
“She has a name and a career, as you well know,” he pointed out.
“I know. I looked her up. LinkedIn. You can find out so much about people. Sounds like she’s a real smart gal.”
“Eleanor,” he said, knowing that there was a hint of warning in his voice.
Eleanor held up her hands. “I am not going to try to talk you out of it, Colby. Goodness knows you’re one of the most stubborn boys I ever met. Kind of like your momma.”
“I’m not a boy anymore,” he said.
“I know,” she said. For a moment, he saw the pain in her eyes, the regret and the life she had lost. Then her eyes sparkled. “Maybe you should work up to giving her a ring. You know, something a little less fraught with implications? Like that,” she pointed to a silver chain link bracelet. He looked closer and saw that it was charm bracelet. The charms themselves were, well, charming. He saw a racecar and a pair of running shoes, and even a lighthouse.
He stepped a little closer, and Eleanor moved with him.
It’s nice,” he said, grudgingly. Maybe Eleanor, his mom, was right. He knew Tory, knew how he felt about her, but perhaps forcing her into a choice wasn’t the best idea.
“Why don’t you ask them to box it up and then you can buy me dinner.”
“I have to meet someone,” he said.
“Ditching your mama for a girl? Should have seen it coming,” she said, her tone teasing.
He almost laughed. “I might have time to stop for a drink.”
“Good, you can catch me up with what happened in Vegas. Did you see Moe Watterson? I heard he might in the market for something new. He liked to pal around with Bobby, I could give him a call, maybe set up a meet and greet.”
Colby sighed. His mother was here to stay. Might as well get used to it. “I suppose that would be helpful.”
“Wonderful. Let’s go for that drink now and we can talk more about.”
He hesit
ated, almost laughed. Leave it to Eleanor to act as if starting over was as easy as deciding to.
“Come, Colby, new chapter in our relationship?”
He hesitated for only a moment. “Fine. New chapter.”
Chapter 50
“What’s all this?” he said, as the door opened and Tory jumped. He had said he’d be taking the late flight home and she hadn’t expected to see him until the morning. The music had been cranked up loud and she had been singing along to The Dixie Chicks.
“I was…”
Princess barked and danced around, happy to see Colby. He patted her head and muscled her aside and grabbed Tory up in a hug. He smelled good and she let him kiss her, a deep, long kiss.
“Hiya baby, how are you?” Colby finally gave his attention to Princess who was shoving her way into the mix.
“Princess and I were just hanging out, and well then she wanted her dinner, and then I thought maybe in case you were hungry when you got in, I’d grab something too.”
“She looks well fed.”
“I walked her twice a day. Even got her to run on the beach for a little bit.”
Colby glanced down at Princess who had returned to her normal spot on the dog bed, on her back, belly up. Tory wasn’t sure but she thought that the dog might have already fallen back asleep.
“You seriously got her to run?” he asked.
“Well it was more like a fast walk. She huffed a bit. But she seemed to like it.”
He sniffed her, “You smell good. Like cinnamon and fresh air and…”
She laughed. “Probably garlic. I picked up dinner from Giovanni’s, and I think they must have had a garlic explosion in there.”
“Did you know in some places the smell of garlic is considered to be an aphrodisiac?”
“What places?” she asked, laughing.
“Small cottages on the New England coast,” he said, and his lips hovered for an instant before finding hers.
#
“I got you a present,” he said sometime later, after his homecoming was complete.
“A lucky poker chip?” she asked, nuzzling in closer to him. Their dinner was cold, but she supposed it was just as easy to slip into the microwave. Somehow, seeing him, being with him, had seemed more important than eating.