by Cimms, Karen
She looked at the screen and shoved the phone at him almost as if it had bit her.
Rhiannon.
Billy signaled to pull over. “I haven’t talked to her for almost two weeks. I have to take this.”
He answered on the fourth ring. “Hey, baby girl. What’s up?”
Her daughter’s raised voice carried. She was worked up over something.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you I’d be away.” He listened, his eyes widening. “I am in Maine. How’d you know that?”
Kate felt her own eyes doubling in size.
“Jeez,” he continued. “I was just hanging out, jamming. I wouldn’t have thought anyone would notice me. Guess I’ll have to get better about watching for paparazzi.”
He winked at her as she pantomimed, pointing to herself and mouthing questions, asking if Rhiannon knew he was with her. He shook his head.
“I had some things to deal with for the opening of the tour, so I just decided to head up. I’ve never been here before.”
She chewed on a fingernail. He reached over, pulled her hand from her mouth, and held it.
“It was a long ride, but it was fine. I enjoyed it.” He frowned. “Of course I wore my helmet.” He pointed at Kate, probably blaming her for raising Rhiannon to be as nervous as she was.
“It’s beautiful. The weather’s turned colder, but it was almost eighty when I got here last week. . . . I’m sure you’d love it. In fact”—he squeezed Kate’s hand—“I was thinking of finding a place up here for Thanksgiving. You and Doug can come up with the kids, and Devin. I have a few days off. We can spend some time together.”
Panic bloomed in Kate’s chest. What if she wasn’t ready to face Rhiannon? There was too much at stake. What would she say?
Billy held up his hand. The look he gave her meant he was serious. This was happening. Rhiannon had lowered her voice since the frantic beginning of the call, so Kate could no longer hear her.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll cook.” He rolled his eyes. Kate did as well. Then his face changed again. He listened quietly, running his thumb over Kate’s hand as he did. “I know, sweetheart, but it’ll be okay. Talk to Doug, see what he says. But this is important. I want you to make this happen.” He rolled his eyes again and sighed. “I promise. No one expects you to cook. Maybe I’ll just have it catered.”
He brought Kate’s hand to his lips. “I know. No one can cook like your mother. . . . It’ll be fine. We’ll all be together. It won’t be that hard. I’m going to go ahead and make arrangements while I’m here. I’ll call you next week and give you all the details. . . . No, I’ll be home Monday, but just for a day. . . . Dinner Tuesday?”
When he looked at Kate, she nodded. “Sure. We’ll talk then. . . . I love you too.”
He ended the call. “She’s dreading Thanksgiving.”
“Me too.”
He reached over the console and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “It’ll be good. I promise.”
“You’re making lots of promises. I hope you can keep them all.”
He tapped the end of her nose. “I can.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
“You know where you’re going, right?”
“Yes. And if I get lost, I’ll find my way. I’m a big boy.”
They sat in front of the Portland Resource Center. It was raining again. Billy wanted to go to an AA meeting, and Kate had to work.
“Sorry. It’s just that I got lost a lot when I first got here.”
“Babe, you get lost everywhere,” he reminded her. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be back around two.”
She gave him a quick kiss, but as she reached for the door, he pulled her back and gave her a much better one, slipping his hand around to the back of her head, his tongue brushing hers. She blinked a few times and sighed when he let go.
“Wow. What was that for?”
“Because I love you, and I want you to remember how much.”
“It’s going to be hard to chop carrots and celery now.”
He grinned, and she melted a little more. “Good.”
She was still smiling when she entered the kitchen and humming as she peeled carrots for stew. Although she had no idea what she was doing, she clicked along with Miriam Makeba on the boom box Samatar kept on the shelf above the stainless steel work surface. She swayed from side to side as she washed the pots in the deep industrial sink.
“Either you are on some very good drugs, or you won the lottery,” Samatar said, backing through the kitchen door with a box of donated produce.
“Nope, just happy.”
With narrowed eyes, he assessed her closely. “I have never seen you ‘just happy.’ I’m not sure I have ever seen you smile.”
“Really?” She was surprised. “I never smile?”
He tilted his head, still watchful. “Not really. If you did, it didn’t reach your eyes. That’s not a real smile.”
“Is this a real smile?” she asked, beaming.
His gap-toothed smile reached his eyes and then some. “Absolutely.”
Returning to her dirty pots, she glanced at the clock over the door. It was almost two. With the colder weather, more people were showing up for hot meals, and lunch had run long again.
“Now you are frowning.”
“Sorry. My husband is picking me up at two. I didn’t realize it was so late.” She reached for another pot.
“Husband?” He looked surprised. “I thought you were not married.”
She held up her left hand.
“I knew you wore a ring. I just didn’t know there was a husband still connected to it.”
“There is.”
“Leave the rest.” He pointed to the remaining pots. “I will finish as soon as I bring in the other boxes.”
“That’s okay. I can do it. He won’t mind.”
“I insist. Do not let the reason you are smiling wait.”
That smile grew. “What makes you think that’s why I’m smiling?”
He touched his finger to his temple. “I am a smart man. Go. I will see you next week.”
She pulled off her apron and blew him a kiss. “Thanks. See you Monday!”
She just needed to pop into Amy’s office before she left.
“There you are!” Amy said, coming around the corner. “I was looking for you.”
“I’m heading out. I wanted to remind you I’m not working the rest of the week, but I’ll be in for the lunch shift Monday.”
“That’s fine.” Amy leaned in and lowered her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me Billy McDonald was stopping by?”
“I didn’t know he was,” she answered, surprised.
“I almost died when he walked in looking for you. I told him you were probably running behind, and he said he didn’t mind waiting. The next thing I know, he’s down in the activity room with some of the boys.”
“Really? How long has he been here?”
“Half an hour, maybe longer. How in the world do you know Billy McDonald? Is he a friend of your husband’s?”
“He is my husband.”
She shot a happy grin at her astonished boss and slipped down the hall to the other side of the building. From the doorway, she could see Billy helping a boy of about sixteen form a chord on a beat-up Epiphone while several other teenagers watched.
“It’s an A minor,” Billy said. “Like this. Perfect. Now a G. Then A minor again, then G, and that’s the lead in. Play it again.”
Kate winced at the strangled chords eked from the overplayed nylon strings.
With his foot, Billy tapped out a beat. “That’s right—A minor, G, A minor, G. Again. Good! Play that riff five times, and you have the intro.” He spoke to another boy sitting next to him. “You ready to try, Keenan?”
The second boy nodded. The one with the guitar unhooked the strap and handed it to him.
“Sit back. That’s it. Now relax your shoulders. Come on, don’t be all hunched up. Girls like it when you sit up nice and tall.”
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A laugh bubbled up and Kate had to cover her mouth.
“I thought you had to go,” Samatar said from behind her.
“So did I. If you didn’t finish, I can run back there now.”
“No, no, it’s all done.” He leaned in the doorway and saw Billy with the boys. “I think I see who is making you smile. What’s he doing?”
“I think he’s giving guitar lessons.”
Billy spotted her, winked, and went back to the boy with the guitar. “Okay, Keenan. Run through the chords, and next time, I’ll teach you and Jason the whole song. What do you say?”
Keenan nodded.
“Me too,” said a younger boy.
“I want to be a singer,” said one of several girls who had been watching the impromptu lesson.
“So do I,” said another. “Like Beyoncé.”
“Then you better learn to dance too,” Billy said. “You guys practice, and I’ll do my best to come back soon.”
That got an enthusiastic response.
“Now, Keenan. What do we start with?”
“A minor?”
“Perfect. Go on.”
Keenan thrummed out a tune similar to what the first boy had played, but Kate still had no clue what it was. They struggled through it a couple of times until Amy stepped in from the hallway and put a halt to the lessons.
“Mr. McDonald has to go, but I think we owe him a big thank-you for stopping by.”
“It was my pleasure.” Billy stood, towering over the teenagers gathered around him.
“Are you really coming back?” one of the girls asked.
Kate smiled. Of course it would be one of the girls.
“I’d like that. I’m going out on tour soon, but I’ll see what my schedule is like.”
“Thank you so much,” Amy said as she walked Billy toward the door where Kate waited. “I’ve never seen them this excited.”
“I enjoyed it just as much. I’d like to come back, if that’s possible.”
Amy seemed stunned. “We’d love that! You’d have to go through all the volunteer background checks, of course, but we’d be thrilled to have you.”
He slipped his arm around Kate’s shoulder. “That’s fine.”
“That was wonderful,” Kate said when they stepped outside. “Those kids looked so excited. What were you trying to teach them?”
“Somebody That I Used to Know by Gotye.”
“Seriously?” She laughed. “I would’ve never guessed.”
“Give them time. If they want to learn, they’ll get there. Although that guitar is a piece of shit.”
“Yeah, even I could tell those strings were either very cheap or very old.”
“Both.”
“Did you mean what you said? About coming back?”
“Absolutely. Up until last month, I was teaching guitar at the Boys and Girls Club in Andrewsville. I loved it.”
Volunteer work had never been his thing. Neither was dealing with people when he didn’t have to, for that matter.
“Part of my sentence included a hundred hours of community service. I taught guitar a couple of hours a week. I liked it so much, I added a second day. I finished my hours a while ago, but I was still going when I could.”
He folded himself into the car behind the wheel as she slid in on the other side. “Would it bother you if I volunteered? You know my background check is going to show jail time. Depending on how strict they are here, it shouldn’t bar me from volunteering. They’ll probably require someone from the center be present during the lessons, though. I don’t want to do anything to embarrass you.”
He looked so eager. How was it possible to love him more than she already did? Yet there it was. Her heart couldn’t have been any fuller. She curled her fingers around his.
“Embarrass me? I couldn’t be any prouder.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Kate sent Billy off at the airport with the same amount of emotion afforded someone going off to war—or at the very least, somewhere longer than three days. After finally bidding him farewell at the security checkpoint, she called Devin to tell him about Thanksgiving.
“How’s it going?” he asked, following up with a loud yawn.
“It’s going well. I just dropped Daddy off at the airport. He’s flying back this morning. He’s got an appointment with his parole officer tomorrow, and he’s having dinner at Rhiannon’s tomorrow night.”
“Ugh,” he murmured.
She smiled. Her daughter had many talents. Cooking wasn’t one of them.
“Is he going to tell her?” he asked.
“Not yet. Actually, he wants you all to come up for Thanksgiving. He told her he’s renting a place for the holiday and it’s important that you all come.”
“So more lying?”
“Devin.” She tried not to sound like she was scolding. “It’s easier for me this way. Rhiannon’s not likely to get in the car and storm off if she’s four hundred miles from home, is she?”
“What makes you think she’d do that, Mom? Don’t you think she wants to see you?”
“In some ways, I’m sure she does. In others, she’s probably still angry with me.”
“Can you blame her?”
Kate fitted her keys into the ignition, leaned back, and closed her eyes. “No. I don’t blame her. I don’t blame any of you. I want to make this right. I don’t need to tell you what this year has been like. We’ve already had that conversation.”
He mumbled something that sounded like agreement. “How’s it going with Dad?”
“I think we’re going to be okay. It was hard saying goodbye this morning.”
“He’s coming back?”
“Yeah. He’s—” She started to say he was making arrangements to move to Maine, but caught herself. She and Billy hadn’t discussed how they would tell their children that they would be staying in Maine. They’d spent the past week reconnecting, and she didn’t regret it. Besides, it would be best to tell Devin and Rhiannon at the same time—over Thanksgiving—when they could put up a united front.
Her hesitation wasn’t at all about avoiding something potentially uncomfortable.
Yeah. Right.
“He’s driving back up on Wednesday,” she said.
“So you’re coming home after Thanksgiving?”
“I might go with Dad for a bit.” Not a lie, right?
“I was gonna spend Thanksgiving with Danielle.”
“I’d say you’re welcome to bring her, but I think it might be kind of stressful. She’s welcome to come up on Friday, though.”
“We’ll see.” He yawned again loudly. “What time is it, anyway?”
Thanks to Billy, the clock in the Saab now told the correct time.
“It’s almost seven thirty.”
Devin groaned. “Jeez, Mom. I didn’t have to get up until ten.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been up since five.”
“Yeah, well, you’re old.”
“Nice. Listen, Dad will tell Rhiannon to call you about Thanksgiving. Will you be coming up with them?”
“Yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I want to ride seven hours in a car with two three-year-olds and my five-foot-tall sister who refuses to sit in the back seat?”
“Be nice. I’m sure she’ll let you sit in the front. And if that doesn’t work—”
“Kiss up to Doug. I know the drill.”
“I love you, sweetie. I have to go to work.”
“I love you too. I have to go back to sleep.”
She was still smiling fifteen minutes later as she made her way into the center.
“Kate,” Amy called, launching herself out of her chair, seemingly prepared to follow Kate down the hall if need be.
“What’s up?”
“I want to thank you and your husband for your very generous donation. The kids are going to be thrilled!”
Donation? Billy hadn’t said anything about a donation.
“I’m sorry. I’m not following you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Friday afternoon, four new guitars and stands, an electronic tuner, a few dozen sets of strings, a drum kit, and a laptop computer arrived. I assumed it was from you, or at least from your husband.”
“It probably is,” Kate said, “although he didn’t mention it. He did tell me he filled out the volunteer application.”
“Yes, yes, I have that. The kids don’t know about the instruments yet. We thought it best if he gives everything to them himself. They’ve been so diligent about practicing what he taught them, even just that little bit, but they keep asking when he’s coming back.”
“I just dropped him off at the airport. He’ll be back late Wednesday. When I speak with him tonight, I’ll find out when he can come back.” The pride she was feeling in Billy almost overshadowed the importance of their anonymity, at least for now. “I do have one favor to ask. Could you please keep his coming here quiet? If he’s performing, that’s one thing, but when he’s not . . .”
Amy waved her hands. “I didn’t even tell my husband—although trust me, I was tempted.”
Kate believed her, but she also had a feeling that Amy knew more about her personal life now than she had a few days ago. That article from the Boston paper was probably online: The target of a madman’s bullets . . .
She shivered at the reminder as she made her way down the hall to the kitchen. She was safe, strong, and healthy, and she was loved very much. Her life was moving forward in a positive way, and other than a few loose, albeit important, threads, she was the happiest she’d been in a long time.
Life was good, and the past needed to stay where it belonged, in the past.
Chapter Fifty
Billy came in through the mudroom after a grueling nine-hour drive and more than an hour stuck in traffic to find the kitchen transformed into a bakery. Apple pies cooled on the counter along with dozens of giant leaf-shaped cookies frosted in reds, golds, and greens.
Kate wore a dusting of flour on her cheek and a deer-in-the-headlights expression.