by Shirley Jump
“I wanted to start over,” she said. “Go back to the beginning, where things… made sense. Where I made sense. I’ve always loved this house, and it held a lot of happy memories before…”
“Before Dad died.”
She nodded. “I set up your old room for you and the girls. I know you’re not staying here tonight, but if you ever…” She caught herself and waved off the words. “Well, I don’t want to pressure you. Let’s plan one visit at a time.”
He stopped her before they reached the kitchen. Her short brown hair had grayed in the ensuing years, but the lighter color suited her well, made her eyes seem brighter. She’d lost some weight, and in her face, he saw the bloom of health and happiness. “I’m done staying away, Mom. I waited too long to come back as it was. I just had a”—he sighed—“a hard time dealing with everything.”
“I don’t blame you at all, Michael. Not one bit.” Apology filled her features. “I never should have married Keith. I did it too fast, too soon. He was such a charmer, and by the time I realized what he was really like, it was too late.”
“And you were trapped.”
She gave a half shrug, a small, sad smile on her face. “Yeah.”
“We don’t have to talk about this now,” Mike said. “Let’s just… visit.”
“No, we need to talk…” She sighed, and her gaze went to the kitchen. “We should have talked a long time ago.” His mother gestured toward the dining room, and he followed her in there, out of earshot of the girls. They sat at one end of the long cherry table, beside dusty place settings that said his mother had been waiting a long time for someone to come and visit.
She let out a breath and laced her hands together on the table. “You were young and I wanted to try and keep as much of it from you as I could. Keith controlled everything, Michael. The bank accounts, the money, the bills. I didn’t even have a checkbook of my own. At first, I thought it was great that I didn’t have to worry about paying the bills or making sure the checks didn’t bounce. But then I realized he took control of it because it was the best way to keep me under his thumb.”
Mike’s blood boiled at the thought of the hell his stepfather had brought to their lives. “I should have kicked him out. I should have stood up to him.”
“You were a child.” She cupped his cheek, her gaze soft with understanding. For a moment, he was five again and his mother was telling him to be careful on the swing set or to make sure he looked both ways before crossing the street. “I was the mom. It was my job to protect you, and I didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you just leave?”
She turned away and blew out a long breath. “A man like that, he finds a woman’s weaknesses and he plays on them like he’s tuning a piano. He knew I was terrified of losing everything, especially the roof over our heads, and that’s what he used to keep me in my place. I was so afraid to end up homeless and lose you to the state or worse. I was so terrified of ending up poor and alone.”
“Wasn’t there life insurance from Dad?” They were the questions he hadn’t asked as a kid because he hadn’t known how the world worked, how everything spun on dollars and cents.
“Very little. By the time I met Keith, we were broke. After paying for the funeral and the bills, we were down to two dollars in the bank. I had a little boy to feed, and a waitress job that barely paid enough to cover the light bill. To me, Keith was like a knight on a white horse, taking care of everything and saving us. It wasn’t until we were married that he got mean.” She heaved a sigh, one that was weighed down with years of regrets and what-ifs. “I should have left. I tried to leave, a hundred times. Every time he’d get angry, he’d apologize and swear it was the last time. But when he broke my hip, I’m the one who decided that would be the last time.” She reached up and brushed away a lock of hair on Mike’s forehead, as if he were still the little boy she remembered and not a six-foot-two man. “It took me a long time to realize that there are more important things in this world than financial security. Far more important things. Like you. I should have realized it sooner. I’m sorry, Michael. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Me too, Mom. Me too.” He thought of all the years she had let that monster stay. All the times she had believed his promises. On the drive up here, he’d thought about why his mother would have lived like that, why she would have stood by while his stepfather drank and beat him and ruined their lives.
The stories his mother had told him over the years began to coalesce in his mind. How she’d grown up dirt poor, living in a house without indoor plumbing, baking in the heat of Florida. How she’d dropped out of high school, married his dad, and then taken menial jobs to pay the bills because she never went back for her diploma or a GED. Maybe that had set the stage for a lifetime of needing the security of a full bank account.
The girls had finished their snacks in the kitchen and headed outside to play in the yard. Mike and his mother moved to the kitchen table so they could watch Ellie and Jenny through the sliding glass door. “Your daughters are beautiful,” she said.
“They’re amazing. Every day I discover something new about them. Jenny loves Star Trek—”
“Just like you did when you were young.”
“And Ellie is learning how to write her name. She’s putting it on everything—the milk carton, the refrigerator, the trunk of my car.” He chuckled. “I think I need to enforce my crayon rules.”
His mother laughed. “That reminds me of the time you colored on your walls. You wanted us to paint your room red and your dad said no, so you decided to do it yourself with the crayons. You ran out of red, went to purple and blue and yellow. By the time you were done, it was a rainbow on the wall.”
“I remember that. I don’t think I painted over it until I was twelve or thirteen.” A punishment from Keith for daring to compare him to his father. Keith had made Mike scrub off every last waxy line, then paint the room a dull puce that Mike had hated.
His mother reached for his hand and held it tight. “I wish I could go back and change it all, Michael.”
The past was in the past for a reason, Mike decided. He couldn’t go back and alter history, and if he did, he might not have ended up where he was today. Serving in the military, the father to two amazing daughters. After serving in a parental role, Mike understood the difficult choices that his mother had faced.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, Mom, it’s that it’s hard to be a parent when you’re just kind of thrust into the job before you’re ready. You were sixteen when you had me. Married before most kids graduate high school. Heck, you were just a kid yourself.” He watched the girls playing tag, laughing and teasing each other as they circled around the grassy backyard. “The best thing Jasmine could have ever done is leave the girls with me for a month. It gave me time to figure out how to be a father, and how to connect with them.”
“I’m glad. And I’m really glad you brought them here.”
“Me too.”
His mother ran a hand over the kitchen table, a maple one so similar to the one that had been in the house years ago that Mike could have sworn it was a twin. “It’s funny, the one thing I always refused to do was sell this house. I rented it out over the years, but wouldn’t sell it. It was as if I was hoping that if I held on to it, you’d—”
“Come back home.”
She let out a little laugh. “You’re a grown man now. Of course you wouldn’t be coming home to stay. But I wanted to have this place for you and for me, just in case. Keeping this house and moving back here taught me I was stronger than I thought. I’ve gone back to school, gotten my GED. I’m working full-time—just as a cashier in a greenhouse, but it’s a start. I enrolled in business school, too. Imagine that, at my age, going back to college.” She dipped her head and smiled. “I’ve been thinking I might want to manage a greenhouse someday.”
“You’d be great at that, Mom. You always did have a green thumb.”
“It all comes back to our roots, doesn’t it? We u
sed to have a garden at the house where I grew up, and almost everything we ate came from the land. I’ve never lost that love for getting my hands in the dirt and watching something I planted grow.” A tease lit her eyes. “Though I never expected the boy I gave birth to would grow over six feet tall.”
“Must have had a hell of a fertilizer in that formula you fed me, Mom.”
She laughed, and he laughed, and the room rang with the sound. They ate cake and drank iced tea and caught up on too many years apart. The shadows of the past began to recede, letting in a much brighter future. Outside, the girls’ laughter rang like bells.
After they were done eating, Mike stacked his plate in the dishwasher and refilled their iced teas. “I’m heading back to Alaska in a few days, but I’m planning on returning to Florida a lot more often, Mom. Me and the girls. There’s this, uh, woman in Rescue Bay that I’ve kind of fallen for.”
“Really? That’s wonderful.”
He put up a hand. “Don’t call the preacher or anything. It’s all pretty complicated right now. I think she’s scared to fall in love.”
“Isn’t everybody?” his mother said. “But if you find the right person, it’s worth every risk. I had that with your dad, and I didn’t treasure that love until it was gone.” She reached for him, held one of his hands in both her own. “Take the risk, Michael. That kind of love doesn’t come along every day.” She got to her feet, her eyes bright and her smile wide. “And with that, I’m going to go outside and play with my grandchildren.”
Two hours later, Mike headed back to Rescue Bay, loaded up with cookies and cake and promises to visit more often. The girls napped in the car, tuckered out from their day outside and the long drive. When he got off the highway at the Rescue Bay exit, he debated taking the road along the Gulf that led to the house. Or taking a left downtown and heading to the shelter.
He glanced back at the sleeping girls and decided home could wait. He had fifteen minutes until the shelter closed for the day. Enough time to change one dog’s life. And maybe, if he was really lucky, one man’s life, too.
Twenty-nine
Mike pulled into the shelter parking lot, parked the car, then woke up the girls. “Let’s go get that dog.”
In an instant, Jenny and Ellie transformed from sleepy rag dolls into excited bubbles of energy. They dashed out of the car and into the shelter. Mike followed behind, telling himself he’d decided to do this now because it was the most convenient time. Not because Diana’s car still sat in the parking lot and he had this masochistic urge to see her.
He masked his disappointment when he found Laura, the office assistant, at the desk instead of Diana. Maybe it was a sign—a sign he should give up on Diana Tuttle once and for all.
The girls overtalked each other, shouting “Cinderella,” “adopt,” and “hurry.” Laura laughed and leaned over the counter to look at Jenny and Ellie. “I take it you two want to adopt Cinderella?”
“Yup.” Jenny nodded. “As soon as possible.”
“I was just filling in for the afternoon, so I’m not sure about Cinderella’s status. I’m heading out, and I’m already late, so let me grab Diana. She’ll help you out, I’m sure.” Laura looked at Mike. “Plus, you guys are kinda friends, aren’t you?”
Friends.
The word reminded him of the conversation they’d had a month ago in this very building. Where he’d told Diana he wanted them to be something more than friends. For a while they had been. But now… he wasn’t sure.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he said. Though he’d really like a second opinion on that from Diana.
“Great. Give me a sec.” Laura disappeared through the door separating the shelter from the vet’s office. The girls dropped into the lobby chairs, debating the best color for Cinderella’s leash.
As soon as the door closed, Mike’s cell phone rang. He started to decline the call, then noticed it was Jasmine’s number. He hadn’t heard from his ex very much over the last thirty days. She’d talked to the girls a few times, and that was pretty much it. At first, the girls had been hurt by the sporadic contact, then they seemed to take it in stride, as if they’d learn to expect disappointment. That angered and saddened Mike, but he could no more control Jasmine than he could the wind. “Girls, your mom’s on the phone.”
Jenny and Ellie lined up beside him, each waiting to be the first one to talk. “Just let me talk to her for a second first, okay?” Mike crossed to the other side of the room, near the exit, and a little more out of earshot of the girls.
He pressed the answer button and put the phone to his ear. “Hi, Jasmine.”
“Oh, good, glad I got ahold of you,” she said in her chirpy, bright voice. “I gotta make this quick, cuz I’m going to miss my flight. I know you were planning on dropping the girls off this weekend, but can you please keep them for a little while longer?”
“I’m heading back to base—”
“I’m getting married!”
The news hit him like a truck. Mike opened his mouth, shut it again. “You’re… what?”
“Lenny asked me to marry him and I said yes!” She screamed the last into the phone, and he held it away from his ear to keep his eardrum from imploding. “We’re flying to Vegas in a few minutes. I mean, you’re okay with this, right? My getting married again? You and me got divorced a long time ago, and, well, we didn’t have much of a marriage to begin with.”
That was an understatement. Their marriage had been over almost before it began. He didn’t feel a shred of jealousy, but wasn’t so sure she was making the most rational decision. Jasmine lived her life on impulse, and she had drawn him into that same crazy thinking for a little while. He’d married her on the spur of the moment, thinking that marrying someone who didn’t take life or relationships seriously would be ideal. Not so much. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay with it. But are you sure? I mean, isn’t that kind of quick?”
“When you know, you know!” He heard the exchange of a loud kiss on the other end, presumably an expression of love between Jasmine and Lenny. “Anyway, we wanted to take a honeymoon. You know, be alone without those kids underfoot. And I know it’s last minute, but you owe me, buddy. I’ve been doing the mommy thing by myself for years.”
He lowered his voice and turned away from Jenny and Ellie. “Jasmine, I only have so much leave. I can’t just not go back to the base.”
“Tell them it’s a family emergency.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Make it simple. If you don’t want to watch the girls, just dump them at my neighbor’s. She owes me for watching her stupid barking dog all last month.” There was an announcement on the other end, then Jasmine came back on the phone. “Listen, I gotta go. Tell the girls I said good-bye and I’ll see them soon.”
“Jasmine, you can’t do this. You can’t just leave them. I have to go back to the base and I can’t take them with me.”
But she was gone. He was talking to himself. He bit back a curse, then slid his phone into his pocket and turned around.
Jenny stood there, her face ashen. “Jasmine’s leaving?”
“Only for a couple weeks. I have to go back to Alaska, but we’ll figure something out, Jen. I promise.”
At that moment, the door opened and Diana walked into the room, and in one second, made Mike’s heart skip a beat and his brain momentarily forget the phone call. She had her hair down today, a flaxen curtain skimming across the shoulders of her lab coat. She wore a denim skirt, a cartoony T-shirt with cats on the front, and a pair of wedges that showed off her amazing legs.
Mike didn’t know whether to be upset or grateful at the timing of Diana’s arrival. Either way, he needed a few minutes to figure out what to do next. One thing he did know—there was no way in hell he was dumping his girls off with some neighbor he’d never met.
The girls jumped up and down, telling Diana about wanting to adopt Cinderella. Well, Ellie was. Jenny was hanging back, quiet, just nodding from time to time. He
crossed to his daughters and put a hand on Jenny’s back.
“Uh…” Diana looked at Mike, then back at Jenny. Diana bit her lip, then bent down to Jenny’s level. The air seemed to still, and Mike realized bad news was on its way. “I’m sorry, honey, but Cinderella’s owners came in today and brought her home. They’d been missing her a lot.”
“She’s… gone?” Jenny’s voice fractured into tiny, sharp pieces.
Diana brushed a lock of hair off Jenny’s forehead. “Yes, but she’s always going to remember you. When you were here, you made her super happy and kept her from being scared about being away from her family. You did a great thing, Jenny.”
“But… but… I… I wanted to adopt her.”
The pain in Jenny’s voice might as well have been a knife in Mike’s heart. He dropped down beside his daughter and tried to hug her, but she stood as still as a statue, while tears pooled in her eyes and her lower lip trembled.
“I know this is hard,” Diana said. “Believe me, Cinderella will never forget you.”
“That’s right, Jelly Bean,” Mike said. “You were awesome with that dog, and—”
Jenny spun toward him. “You promised us! Remember? Now you’re breaking your promise!”
“I didn’t know Cinderella’s owners would come and get her, honey,” Mike said. Damn. Why did these kinds of things have to happen? He knew it was part of life, but it was a part that sucked. He’d do anything to wipe that look off Jenny’s face. “She’s going to be happy at home, so you don’t have to worry about her anymore. We can look at some other dogs—”
“I don’t want another dog. Cinderella loved me. She needed me.” The tears filled her eyes, then overflowed and streamed down her cheeks. “She didn’t want to leave me!”
When Mike tried to reach for his daughter, she slipped his grasp and barreled through the door that led to the kennels.
“Cinderella! Cinderella!” Jenny called, her voice rising with each syllable. The sounds of hope and disbelief in Jenny’s words broke Mike’s heart. “Cinderella!”