Days Like This

by Laurie Breton

“It’s very different, isn’t it? I trust there’s a little culture shock going on right now. How’s school? Have you made any friends?”

  She thought about Lissa Norton, about this morning’s escapade, and felt her cheeks burn. “One or two. Mostly, I hang out with Luke.”

  “Well, then, that’s a good thing, to have cousins nearby who are about your age. How are things at home?”

  Paige picked up a dinner plate, scrubbed at a stubborn spot. “It’s okay.”

  “You don’t sound convinced. Are you getting along with Casey?”

  “Casey’s all right.”

  “And your dad?”

  Paige hesitated. What could she say to this woman about her own son that wouldn’t sound like whining or ingratitude?

  “Ah,” Mary said. “Your silence speaks volumes. You and your father have issues.”

  “We don’t agree on much,” Paige admitted. It was as close as she would come to telling this lovely woman that he’d already destroyed her life long before they ever met in person.

  “Let me tell you something, sweetheart. I love all my children, and I see each of them for who they really are. The good, the bad, the ugly. Your father can be the biggest, most obstinate jackass on the planet. He’s far from perfect. Sometimes, he does stupid things. He has a temper, and he still hasn’t really grown up. But he has the biggest heart of anyone I know. He always did. He’s the one who would bring home a bird with a broken wing and make it a soft bed and hand-feed it worms and try to heal it. Underneath the prickly man, he’s still that same soft-hearted little boy. If he does things that don’t make sense to you, if he gets mad and yells at you, it’s only because he cares so very much. Understand?”

  Head down, hands buried in dishwater, Paige nodded.

  “And the other thing I have to say is this: he may have made some really bad judgment calls in his life, but the one thing he got right was marrying Casey. I’ve known and loved that girl since she was just a wee little eighteen-year-old child bride, in way over her head with Danny Fiore. Somehow, she managed to stay afloat in spite of it all, and over the years, I’ve watched her grow into a remarkable woman that I’m proud to call my daughter-in-law. The day she married my son was one of the happiest days of my life. My advice to you, Paige, is to let her into your heart. Your life will be so enriched if you do.”

  When the kitchen clean-up was finished, her grandmother led her into the living room, where they sat for more than an hour, looking through old family photo albums. It seemed that in the MacKenzie household, there had always been somebody around with a camera. There were the requisite school photos, but also hundreds and hundreds of snapshots. Pictures of her father, and his siblings, at every stage of development. “Now, where was that?” Mary mused, turning pages. “Yes, here it is. Your parents, when they were dating.”

  And there it was. The two of them, looking young and fresh-faced and happy. A lump formed in Paige’s throat. Sandy had owned a half-dozen photos of Rob, but none of them together. Nothing to document the relationship they’d had. But this—it was proof that they’d been a couple, visual evidence that testified to Paige’s lineage. She studied the photo, entranced. Her mom had been so pretty. And her father’d worn the same grin she’d glimpsed a time or two, when his mood was right and he wasn’t angry with her.

  “Would you like to have it?” her grandmother asked.

  She looked up at Mary, shocked. “Could I?”

  “Of course. Let me find you an envelope to put it in, to keep it safe for the trip home.”

  By the time Mary returned with the envelope, Casey had made a reappearance, and was ready to leave. “Are you sure you won’t stay the night?” Mary said.

  “I’d love to, but your son calls me every night. I don’t want him to go into a panic because he can’t reach me.”

  “He’s a good husband.”

  “The best. I attribute it to his amazing upbringing.”

  “Such flattery.”

  “No flattery involved. It’s simply the truth.”

  Paige bade farewell to Pugsley, gave her grandfather a shy hug, then embraced her grandmother with enthusiasm. Mary stroked her cheek and said, “You’ll remember what I told you, darling Paige?”

  “I will.”

  “Good! Casey, I’m so glad you came.” The two women embraced, Casey hugged her father-in-law, and the two of them—Grandma and Grandpa MacKenzie—watched from the door as Paige and Casey and Leroy walked to the car in the crisp evening air. “Drive safely!” Mary shouted, and Paige turned to wave before she put Leroy in the back seat and climbed into the front.

  Neither of them spoke. There was no need for talk. As Casey navigated the city streets, Paige closed her eyes, reliving, examining, analyzing the events of the past few hours. It would take some time to absorb it all. But one thing was clear. No matter how angry she was with her father, no matter how determined she was to hate him, she was absolutely, utterly, one hundred percent smitten with his mother.

  Casey

  Half-asleep, she picked up the ringing phone and brought it to her ear. Her husband’s soft, intimate voice said, “I’m sorry to call so late. I tried earlier, but I didn’t get you. Where were you?”

  She sat up in bed, drew the hair back from her face, rubbed her eyes. “Believe it or not, Boston.”

  “Boston?”

  “Remember how, after Danny died, you took me to the cemetery?”

  “Ah.”

  “I thought she needed to go. Afterward, we stopped in to visit your folks. Paige needs to know where she comes from. It’s important. We stayed for dinner.”

  “How were things at Ye House of MacKenzie?”

  “Your mom sat Paige down with the family photo albums, and while they were occupied with that, your dad had to show me the latest additions to his stamp collection. He’s scored some really good stuff. Apparently.”

  He let out a soft laugh. “Some things never change.”

  “But that’s good, right? Your parents are who they are, and we love them for it. Some things are so perfect you don’t want to see them ever change.”

  “They’re getting old, babe.”

  “Oh, sweetie, don’t worry, they’re as solid as ever. They’ll be with us for a long time to come. Listen, Michael was there. For dinner. Without Claire.”

  “Oh?”

  “I thought it was odd. Odder still that her name never came up. You don’t suppose they’re having problems?”

  “I don’t know. Nobody tells me anything. Hell, nobody bothered to tell me I had a kid, so why should I expect they’d share with me anything about my brother’s marriage?”

  “That’s a good point. Your mother, by the way, is of the strong opinion that you should be here right now, bonding with your daughter, instead of on the road.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. My mother is a woman of strong opinions.”

  “I defended you. I told her we were a family and you were quite confident in my ability to handle things in your absence.”

  “You stood up to my mother? Gutsy broad.”

  “Not so gutsy. I adore your mother.”

  “And she adores you.”

  “And I always stand up for you. I always have, and I always will.”

  “I know. You’re like a mother bear with her cub.”

  “No. I’m just a good wife.”

  “True. I’m fairly satisfied with the little woman. I think I’ll keep her. Probably.”

  “Funny boy. Listen, I hate to have to tell you this, but Paige and Lissa Norton got picked up this morning for shoplifting a tube of eyeliner and a lipstick. Teddy called me.”

  “Damn it. Of course he did. I bet he was gloating the whole time. What the hell was the kid thinking?”

  “She’s a teenager. They don’t think. If it’s any consolation, she told me it was Lissa’s idea.”

  “But she went along with it.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Ah, shit.” He sighed. “What’d you do?�
��

  “I did what I do best: I smoothed things over. There’ll be no charges, but she’ll be spending the next four Saturdays paying penance, picking up litter and so forth, supervised by Scotty Deverell.”

  “I’m sorry I left you holding the bag. Did you kick her ass from here to Kingdom Come?”

  “Actually, I didn’t. The whole fiasco is what prompted the trip to Boston. I did let Biff Norton have it, though.”

  “Who’s Biff Norton?”

  “Lissa’s father. I went to high school with him. He was a little turd then, and he hasn’t improved with age. He had something to say about you, and I took exception to it.”

  “Wait a minute. Have I even met this guy?”

  “Not as far as I know, but he seems to know who you are. I put him in his place. Nobody talks trash about my guy and gets away with it.”

  “Twice in one day you defended my honor, Fiore? I’m impressed.”

  “Just give me a minute to blow the smoke away from the tip of my gun.” In the darkness, she smiled. “Teddy called me a pit bull. I think he meant it as a compliment.”

  “No doubt he did. Damn, I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. It just doesn’t feel right. I hate sleeping alone.”

  “Me, too. I did it for years, and it sucked.”

  “Funny, I don’t recall you ever sleeping alone.”

  “Ha-ha. You’re a regular one-woman comedy act. I wasn’t that bad.”

  “Are you kidding? I tried to keep score, but I finally had to give up because I couldn’t keep track of them all. I can’t imagine how you did. You must have had an abacus hanging on your headboard.”

  “That’s really low, Fiore.”

  “I call it the way I see it, MacKenzie. You were quite the, ah…ladies’ man. But we’re okay, as long as you don’t forget where you belong now.”

  “I could never forget. Trust me.” He paused. “Remember that killer fight we had?”

  She drew the covers tighter around her for warmth. “Which one?”

  “The one where you threw my ugly ass out of your house.”

  She considered it at length. Finally said, “Which time?”

  At the other end of the line, he let out a soft laugh. “I guess we’ve had more than our share of battles, haven’t we? The time when you told me not to darken your door again until I’d cleaned up my act.”

  “Oh. That time. When I stopped speaking to you because you’d been running all over Southern California acting like the worst kind of slut.”

  “Men can’t be sluts.”

  “Au contraire, my friend. And if the shoe fits…”

  “Well, it all came to a screeching halt after Danny died.”

  “I know. Mrs. Sullivan told me.”

  “My landlady? You were discussing my sex life with my landlady?”

  “It wasn’t like that. She just mentioned it in passing, the last time I flew out to L.A. to visit you. She must have thought we were—ah…involved—because she told me I was the only woman you’d had in your apartment in nearly two years.”

  “You do realize why?”

  “Fear of getting an STD?”

  “I’m being serious. Try to act like it. I was waiting for you.”

  “Waiting?” she said. “For me?”

  “I knew you’d need time, and I was determined to give you all the time you needed. But I was waiting.”

  Something inside her went a little melty at his words. He always had that effect on her. “But how’d you know—”

  “That you’d come around? Because we loved each other. We’d loved each other since the beginning of time. There was only one direction that could go, and I knew that sooner or later, you’d figure it out. In the meantime…I just waited. It’s not like it was a hardship. There wasn’t anybody else I wanted. And you were worth waiting for.”

  Something happened inside her heart, something knife-sharp, exquisite and inexplicable. She cleared her throat. “Babe?”

  “What?”

  “So were you. Worth waiting for.”

  “I’m so glad you feel that way. Because you’ll be waiting a little longer.”

  “Very clever, MacKenzie, the way you segued so smoothly into that little gem. How much longer?”

  “Probably an extra three weeks.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Rob!”

  “Hey, the tour’s a success. We’re picking up more dates. That’s a good thing, right?”

  “Of course it’s a success. And why do you suppose that is? It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the fact that this relatively unknown band managed to snag the illustrious Rob MacKenzie, guitarist extraordinaire, to fill in on their crappy, two-bit concert tour?”

  “Is that bitterness I hear in your voice?”

  “I’ve found that I don’t much like living alone.”

  “What do you mean? You’re not living alone.”

  “Are you really that dense? Do I have to spell it out for you?”

  “Oh,” he said.

  “Yes. Oh. I’m almost desperate enough to take you up on that offer you made me a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Alas, and to my vast regret, due to a stunning lack of privacy, that offer will have to stay on hold for the foreseeable future.”

  “Let me guess. You’re leaning against a dirty, graffiti-covered wall outside the men’s room in some packed roadhouse, you’ve been up for eighteen hours, haven’t eaten in twelve, haven’t brushed your teeth or your hair for two days, and the minute you’re done performing tonight, it’ll be back on the bus for another twelve-hour drive to nowhere.”

  “Sometimes you scare the living shit out of me.”

  “I’m not psychic. I’m basing this on past experience. If you ever do come home, it’ll take me weeks to rehabilitate you to a civilized state.”

  “A little physical therapy should work wonders.”

  “Lucky for you that I’m so good with my hands.”

  At the other end of the line, he let out a snort of laughter. Then said, “Gotta run, babe. Break’s over. Hang in there. This, too, shall pass.”

  “If it doesn’t, I’ll just have to pick up some hot young stud to tide me over. Maybe I should start cruising the bowling alley.”

  “Hah! Fiore?”

  “What?”

  “You are so full of shit.”

  Paige

  Washing and waxing a dirty police cruiser and scraping up dog turds from the sidewalk weren’t exactly her idea of how to spend a quality Saturday afternoon. The work she and Lissa were performing under the supervision of that Nazi, Scotty Deverell, was tedious and exhausting. Worse, it was keeping her away from the Saturday-afternoon football games. If she wasn’t afraid Deverell would handcuff her and lock her up in his jail, she’d probably shove Lissa to the ground and pound her head repeatedly against the pavement.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” Lissa said for the fourteenth time in the last hour. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

  Paige pointed the high-pressure hose at the fender she’d just scrubbed. “Sorry doesn’t cut it. I’m stuck doing this crap for the next month, your old man is blaming me for the whole debacle, and as if that’s not enough, I’m grounded for two weeks. No football games. No hanging out after school. I can’t even go to band practice! The guys have to come to my house to practice. It’s humiliating. I’m reduced to sitting at home watching General Hospital with Leroy, and standing here scrubbing squished bug guts off the grill of a police cruiser. I have you to thank for that.”

  “I couldn’t tell my dad the truth! If I did, I’d be stuck in the house until I turn thirty.”

  “My heart bleeds for you.”

  With her sponge, Lissa scrubbed at a particularly stubborn stain. “So, your stepmother is a hardass?”

  “Not really. But she made me talk to him. My father.”

  “Did he ream you a new one?”

  “He just gave me this lecture about responsibility and maturity, and made sure I under
stood how much I’d disappointed him. He said he’d be expecting a different kind of behavior from me in the future.”

  “Oh, boy. The old guilt trip. When will parents figure out that it never works?”

  “I don’t know, it kind of did. This whole thing makes me look like a fool. Even worse, a thieving fool.”

  “If you’d been a little quicker at pocketing the freaking lipstick, and if you’d looked a little less guilty, we never would have been caught.”

  “Excuse me?” Slowly, Paige lifted her Foster Grants and stared at Lissa from beneath them. “You’re blaming this on me?”

  Lissa had the grace to blush. “Not entirely. But, Jesus, Paige, I never got caught before. Because I know what I’m doing. I should’ve known better than to tag-team with you. You’re such a goody-two-shoes.”

  Paige stood there with her mouth hanging open while Lissa went back to scrubbing. She took a deep breath, struggled briefly with her inner demons. And then caved. To hell with it. She was already in trouble. What was a little more? This time, at least it would be worth whatever punishment she was dealt. She shot a quick glance at Officer McDoofus, whose idea of supervision was to sit in a lawn chair, eating a ham sandwich and reading a paperback novel.

  She adjusted the nozzle of the hose, picked its heavy weight off the ground and wound it around her arm a couple of times. “Hey, Lissa,” she said.

  Crouched in front of the car, Lissa looked up. “What?”

  “Just this.” And Paige turned a torrent of icy water, full-force, on her partner in crime.

  ***

  “What on earth am I going to do with you?” Her stepmother, shoulders squared and knuckles white on the steering wheel, sounded really ticked off.

  “She deserved it!” Paige said. “She blamed this whole mess on me! The girls at school already hate me. Now they whisper and laugh at me when I walk by. Her dad thinks I’m responsible, because his precious baby girl can do no wrong, and I’m the big, bad city kid who came here to corrupt his poor darling. Well, guess what? His poor darling has been stealing for years! When I told her it was unethical, you know what she said? That she does it all the time, and I’m just a big chicken! Now, she’s saying it’s my fault we got caught. That I blew it for both of us because I’m not good enough at being a thief. The little witch!”