I felt my cheeks glow. “That’s embarrassing,” I said, feeling heat prickle beneath my skin.
“Maybe, but it has everyone’s panties in a wad around here. Must have been something. Now, dish,” she commanded, more like a best friend than a mother.
I sat at the counter and fiddled with the grocery bags. “Well, John came over to take the stitches out of my head. And, well, he kissed me and Chloe was lurking in the shadows.”
“So, how do feel about that?”
“I felt bad, but we didn’t know she was there,” I reiterated.
“No, how did you feel about the kiss?” Mom asked, rolling her eyes at me.
“Right there, right there, I get it from you,” I jested.
“Seriously, do you like him? It’s okay to be attracted to the man. You’re a woman. He’s a man.” She sipped at her coffee. “He’s seems like a nice guy.”
“He is. I am attracted to him, but it’s awfully complicated. He lives next door. He has Chloe and now Brook is here. It’s a recipe for disaster.”
“Brook won’t be here forever. Kiss him again. What do you have to lose? Live on the edge,” she said as she caressed her coffee cup with her thumbs.
“I already feel like I am living on the edge.” I itched at the red spot under my arm. “I don’t have the energy for this.”
“Like hell you don’t. That’s a cop-out. You go to radiation every day. You have people traipsing through your house left and right, and you’re dealing with Bones.” She leaned down to scratch his head.
“No, thanks to you. If I think about it, you are largely responsible for some of the mayhem around here.” I raised an eyebrow in her direction as I scrolled through my missed calls. “Shoot, I missed a call from Bradley,” I whimpered.
“Your son is away. You’re divorced. That’s a done deal. Now you are working on your house. What do you mean you don’t have the energy to give the good doctor the time of day?”
“I already did and look where it got me. Besides, I don’t think I’m ready,” I said, pouring myself a cold glass of lemonade.
“I beg to differ. There’s no time like the present. You should have learned that lesson by now, Marjorie Jean.”
“Hey, quit middle-naming me, Glad.”
“Watch it, young lady. I am still your mother.”
I got up from my seat and went over to where she leaned against the counter then put my hands on her shoulders. “Thank God.” I gave her a peck on the cheek. Her eyes twinkled like fairy dust. I saw my father’s memory woven in the golden threads of her irises and I wondered how Mom stayed strong every day without him.
“What do you say we take Bones for a walk,” I suggested. “I could use some fresh air before I settle in for the night.”
“Let’s go,” she replied.
Bones barked then pulled his leash down from the chair. We hadn’t made it halfway down the driveway when Chloe came bounding across my front lawn. “See you in a bit,” I called, giving a little wave.
“Wait.” She stumbled on her bad toe. “Yow-za,” she yelped. “I forgot about my stupid toe. You really should fix that door.”
“You really should be careful.” I caught Mom’s stink eye. “Fine. I’ll be nice,” I mumbled in her direction.
“My mom told me you weren’t very nice to her at the beach and that’s why you left early. Is that true?” Chloe asked.
“Not exactly, but whatever. She’s your mom and you have to live with her.” I glanced over to Mom who was grinning at me. “I am sorry.”
“Oh, okay.” Chloe took out a package of Big League Chew bubble gum and stuffed some in her mouth. “Just checking. You know, you could be nicer to her. She doesn’t have it so easy. Want some?”
She held the pouch so I could reach in. I pinched a wad of purple strands and stuffed it in my mouth. I cringed at the sweetness.
“Next time you want to kiss my dad, maybe you should do it in private.”
My cheeks burned as I crossed my arms and stared at her. She kneeled down to pet Bones who was lying on her feet. “That doesn’t seem to bother your big toe.”
“What?” she said nonchalantly.
“That hefty dog, with pointy nails standing on your injured toe.” I pointed to the bandage. “Nice bandage. I like Curious George. You two have a lot in common.”
She squinted up at me. I couldn’t tell if she was taking my bait or actually thinking.
“Yup, we do. I’m always into mischief, too.” Chloe chuckled. “Well you two better get going before Bones poops out. I’ll be waiting for you on the porch swing.” She paused to blow a bubble that popped immediately and left purple residue on her lips. “If that’s okay.”
My mom smiled.
“It’s fine,” I said. “Only if you go get the Junie B. book you’re reading.”
Chloe scrunched up her nose at me. “Really?” She hobbled then started to run toward her house. With a short hop at the edge of the driveway, she stopped, and limped the rest of the way home.
“Hey,” I called.
Chloe glanced back at me.
“Make sure it’s okay with your mom and your dad.”
She waved. “See you in a bit. Take good care of my dog,” she sang. “I’ll be waiting.”
“I mean it. Ask your parents. I don’t want any trouble.”
“Okay,” she shouted.
Chloe was lounging on the porch swing when we returned just as she promised. She was singing, “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” by The Rolling Stones.
“Classic. She even sounds a little bit like Mick Jagger,” I said to my mom.
Chloe held a new Junie B. book. “I got my book. Junie B. and Her Big Fat Mouth,” she chimed. “This girl cracks me up. Come here, Bones.” She tapped her legs with the palms of her hands. “Come here, boy,” she prodded.
Bones trotted right over to her and sat at her feet.
Her crooked smile beamed. “It’s a gift.”
“I guess so,” my mom said.
“Yeah, whatever, why doesn’t he do that for me?” I asked as I put his leash over the railing.
“Cause you’re too bossy.” Chloe put her hands up as if to surrender. “I don’t mean to be rude, but if you give him a little slack he’ll probably trust you more. We’re all part of the pack.”
“Thanks, Cesar,” I said.
My mother sat on the swing next to Chloe and picked up the book. “You two were made for each other.”
“Who?” Chloe’s voice cracked as she chomped on her gum.
I blew a bubble.
Chloe sized me up and blew an even bigger bubble.
“Show off,” I muttered.
She laughed. “Me and Bones? I love him.” She patted his head as he licked her hand.
“No, you and Maggie make quite the pair,” Mom said.
Chloe and I smiled at each other. More freckles had blossomed on the bridge of her nose. I wished like hell I could be in the sun.
Chloe shook her thumb at my mom. “You’re a crack-up. Maggie’s way older than me.”
“That has nothing to do with it,” Mom said.
“Thanks for reminding me,” I interjected.
“No worries. It’s what I’m here for,” Chloe said with a wink.
“You are a pain,” I said.
Mom batted her eyes at me to heed warning.
“What? She is.” I shrugged.
“And so are you, Marjorie Jean, and so are you,” Mom said. “That is exactly what I am talking about.”
Chloe gave a deep belly laugh. Her round cheeks jiggled and her eyes narrowed as she chuckled. “I love this lady,” she squealed.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re weird.”
Chloe took a deep breath and settled down. “I know. Can we read now, please?”
I wiggled in-between Chloe and my mom. Bones leaped up on my mom’s lap. We were squished together like sardines, but no one seemed to mind. I opened the book to page one and began to read aloud
. “Did you finish the last Junie B. book you had?”
“Yes.” She shook her finger at Bones.
“What?” I squawked.
“My dad finished it before Bones ate it.”
I glared at the culprit.
He tilted his head to the left then started panting.
“You have got to stop that.”
“Yeah, he really does. You should see your flowers in the backyard.”
“What?” I pointed my finger at Bones, too. He whined then licked my hand. “Bad dog,” I grunted.
“Yeah, he can be bad, but we all have our days, right, Glad?” Chloe leaned forward to get a better view my mom. Her elbow dug into my thigh.
“Holy-moly, let’s just read,” I said.
“Watch your mouth, young lady.”
My mom and Chloe both giggled in unison, and Bones sneezed.
Chapter 22
I sat at my new oak drafting table, elbows on top, chin resting on clasped hands scrutinizing my work as the sunlight filtered through the leaded glass windows illuminating my library like a chapel. I chose three of my hand-colored photographs to mat and frame to hang in my library. Three is always a good number, one for the Father, one for the Son, and one for the Holy Ghost.
The first photo was of Bones sitting near the destroyed tomato garden looking proud of his efforts. The second photo was a close up of my potted Gerber Daisies that no longer existed, thanks to Bones. The third was a photo of my mother’s profile at the beach the day of our eventful picnic. She’d seen more than the water caressing the shore under the bright sunlight. She’d heard more than the spirits in the summer breeze. She was my mother and she was beautiful regardless of the havoc she brought into my life.
The painters banged around in the living room. I couldn’t wait for them to be done. I wanted my house back. I wanted peace and quiet.
Beckett’s journal sat at the edge of my desk. I moved it yesterday, only brave enough to touch the cover. I couldn’t open it. It held secrets, his secrets, secrets he knew he would share with me someday in his own way. I picked up my phone and dialed Bradley’s number.
“Hello.”
His voice was deeper. He sounded like a man. I had raised a man. “Hi, honey. How are you?”
“Busy,” he answered.
“I know. I don’t want to keep you. I just wanted to hear your voice. Sorry, I missed your call the other day.”
“I know. It’s okay. Dad told me he saw you. He said you seemed good. How’s the treatment?”
Bradley’s voice quivered a tad. For that, I ached. “Okay. I have two more weeks. I’m itchy, but I’m good. Don’t worry.”
“That’s a little hard, Mom. I worry just as much as you do. It’s hard keeping up with you and Dad.”
I laughed. “You’re funny. We’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, Dad told me you were different with him the other day, too. Way to go.”
I smiled and fingered the photo of Bradley on my desk. He was five. It was wintertime. He was wearing the puppy dog hat and matching mittens my mom made for him, his red curls poked out from the edge of his cap. He held a mound of snow trying to lick it. “Some of us are late bloomers. Sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“Sorry for any hurt. I’ve made some mistakes.”
Bradley chuckled. “We all do. Hey, my company offered me a full time position when I finish this internship. What do you think of that?”
A lump grew in my throat. My baby was a grown-up. He was living in Boston. And I was back home missing him. “That’s great. Will you take it?”
“I’d be a fool not to. Six figures. Who would have thought? I love it here.”
“I know you do, honey. I’m proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you, too,” he said softly.
“Why?”
“Because you threw dad a bone. He really needed it. He’s not like you. You could survive a nuclear blast if you had to. You’re a beast.” Apparently Bones and I had something in common.
“Thanks, I think,” I said.
“Mom—”
“What?”
“I’d like to think I get that from you.”
I inhaled deeply, warding off emotion. “Me, too, darling boy, me too. I love you.”
“Love you, too. Can I call you later?”
I nodded, thinking he could see me. I swallowed then rested my forehead in my free hand. “Sure. Talk to you then.”
“Sounds good. Bye, Mom.”
“Bye, honey.” I ended the call and put my phone down. I knew it would be a few days before he got back to me. He was living life, while I was surviving life.
I picked up Beckett’s journal and leaned back in my chair. What could possibly be in here that I didn’t already know? I opened the book randomly.
Bradley is getting older now. He turned ten today. He’s been riding his bike nonstop. Maggie scolded him for leaving skid marks in the driveway, but I think they are cool. Better on the driveway than in his pants.
I laughed and turned the page.
I scratched at the smudge on the corner of the page. Probably blueberry jam. Beckett loved blueberry jam on toast for a midnight snack.
When I see Maggie with our son, my heart goes numb. I want to tell her, but I know it will crush her. I want Bradley to grow up with a mother and a father. They deserve a family. When I think about what my dad did to my family, it still angers me and I can’t leave them.
My mind reeled back to a time when Beckett and I lounged by the fireplace during the midnight hour talking about our families. It was something we did once a month. We’d dim the lights, drink wine, and dedicate the time to our families so we could keep them close. I never really knew much about Beckett’s father. He didn’t come to our wedding. Beckett said it didn’t matter, but I think it did. It hurt him.
Beckett’s eyes had turned cold when he spoke of his dad leaving when he was twelve and never returning. It wasn’t until Beckett started high school that his father contacted him. Beckett said his dad never did tell him why he disappeared like that. Who does that?
I thought about Chloe.
I thought about Brook.
I read one more page.
I love her in my own way. I really do. My heart rips open when I think about what I have to tell her. She doesn’t deserve this. I should have been braver. I have been such a coward. Forgive me, Maggie.
I shut Beckett’s journal. I placed it back on the corner of my desk and patted the supple worn leather cover. Beckett carried a burden I couldn’t fathom. How could I have been so insensitive? “I’m sorry, too, Beckett. I should have been there for you.”
The corner of Chloe and John’s photo peeked out from under my blotter. I didn’t keep it with my other photos. I found myself studying it whenever I came into the library. Today was no different. I considered myself a stalker at one point, but then dismissed the claim since I had intentions of giving it to John. “Damn, why does he have to be so attractive?”
“I don’t know. Why does he have to be so damn handsome?”
The voice startled me. Brook had her back up against the doorjamb with her arms crossed over her chest. “Did my mother let you in?”
“No.”
Her mischievous smile sent chills down my spine. “So, you’re accustomed to just letting yourself in?” Her piercing, steely, blue eyes sent a cold message.
“No, the painters let me in. They seem very nice.”
Now there’s your stalker. She could charm her way into any building with her Daisy Dukes and bare shoulders. “Great.” Mother was right. I needed to lock the front door. “So what brings you over? Is Chloe with you?” Bones trotted by. I secretly scorned him for not being a better watchdog then settled back in my chair, and put my hands in my lap.
“No, Chloe’s not here.”
I waited for Brook to speak. It proved to be a good tactic with upset parents at school and by the expression on her face she didn’t seem happy.
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br /> “Why did you leave the park so fast? Chloe was upset when she came back and you weren’t there. That’s not a nice thing to do to a seven-year-old.”
“She seems fine now.” My hands began to sweat.
“She hides her true feelings well. She was devastated.”
“Well, she didn’t seem devastated when she was over here reading with me and my mom or when she shared her gum with me or told me she would be waiting on the porch when I got back from walking Bones.” I held Brook’s stare. She was on my turf. “Why are you really here?” My question meant more than she could infer. Brook stepped closer to my desk. I put my elbows back on my desk and rested my head on clasped hands. I watched her as her eyes scanned my photos, John and Chloe’s being one of them. Her silence made me grow restless in her presence. “Seriously, why are you here?” I asked again with inflection.
“I don’t like that my daughter is hanging out at your house so often. What kind of hold do you have on her?”
“What do you mean? She just shows up. She likes my mom. I think this conversation is about over,” I stated calmly.
“She likes you, Maggie. She talks about you all the time. She quotes you all the time. She loves your dog. You let her play here. Are you using her to get at John?”
I felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on, Maggie. I’ve seen your kind before. Single, poor divorced woman, no children around, no man.”
I stood up, shoulders squared. “I believe you have overstayed your welcome. I am anything but a poor divorced woman.” I stopped, and thought for a moment. Right then and there, I was done playing that card. “I am anything but what you think I am. I don’t need to explain myself to you or anyone else. What Chloe and her father choose to do as my neighbors is their business. Last time, I checked”—I took a breath then dug my hands into the pockets of my shorts—“You are a visitor. And as far as your daughter is concerned, I don’t believe she has many friends here at her new house. And are you aware that her reading skills are not up to par?”
Brook’s eyes narrowed, her brow furrowed, and her cheeks reddened.
“If you and John are together just say so. I’ll bow out.” Did I just say that? I didn’t even realize I was in. “So are you sticking around? Are you two a thing again? Because if you are, don’t you think you should focus on Chloe, not me?” Wondering how much further to push it, I crossed my arms, mimicking her posture.
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