by Alison Stone
“Yeah, your son.”
Silence stretched across the line and he debated hanging up. But she’d probably call him right back. Maybe. And he didn’t want to risk it.
“How are you?” she finally asked.
“I’m calling to let you know Dad is sick.”
“Oh?” He had trouble reading any kind of emotion in that single word.
“He asks about you all the time.” He coughed to hide the crack in his voice.
“Jesse…” He could already tell his mom—no, Sandra—was going to shut him down, so he needed to say what he had called to say.
“He has Alzheimer’s and he seems to think you’re at the grocery store or at work. I thought maybe it’d be good for him to see you before he gets worse.”
“Oh, Jesse,” Sandra said on a long sigh. “He doesn’t want to see me. His mind is just playing tricks on him. His father had Alzheimer’s, you know.” Her tone was more conspiratorial than compassionate. “It’s a horrible disease.”
Yeah, duh! He wanted to scream into the phone to the woman who had run out on all of them. She should have never left. She should be here now. For his dad. For his sister.
For me.
“I suppose it was a dumb idea. I’ll let you go.” He pulled the phone away from his ear. He heard his mother call out to him. He put the phone back by his ear. “Yeah.”
“How are you?”
“Fine.”
“Good to hear. I imagine you’re married with kids now?” There was a hopeful note in her voice.
“If I said I was, would you come visit?” Jesse didn’t even try to hide his bitterness.
“I lost that right when I walked away from you, your father and your sister.”
“Yeah, you did.” Jesse plowed his hand through his hair, realizing his lack of sleep and stress had landed him in the middle of a conversation he no longer wanted to have.
“I’m sorry your father is sick.” He could hear her breathing over the line. “I’m sorry for a lot of things, but none of them that I can change.” She sighed heavily. “After I realized how much I upset you when I reached out to you when you were eighteen, I promised myself I’d never interfere in your life again. You really don’t want me to come to see your dad. You’re grasping at something in the past. Something that’s gone.”
Jesse ran his hand over the image of his family he had found in the drawer. Smiling faces from a lifetime ago.
“You need to forgive me and move on,” she said, her voice breaking for the first time. “Don’t let my poor decisions shape your future. Your dad was a wonderful man. I’m sure he raised you to be the same.”
Jesse heard someone in the background asking Sandra who was on the phone. “No one,” she said. Jesse wasn’t sure why it felt like a knife to the gut.
“I’m sorry I bothered you.” Jesse bit out the words.
“I’ll keep your dad in my prayers.”
Jesse pulled the phone away from his ear and tossed it on the desk, wondering why he had thought that would be a good idea.
“You okay?”
Jesse spun around on his chair to find Mary Clare standing there. He froze in place, fearing if he got up, embraced her, he might release all the emotion he had been holding back.
“I heard about your dad. I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
Jesse shook his head. “I’m going to close up the shop and get back to my motocross business. It’s the only way we can afford my dad’s long-term care. It’s best for everyone.” Holding the arms of the chair, he pushed to his feet.
Mary Clare walked toward him with her arms out and pulled him into her embrace. He buried his nose in her hair and wished he could rewind the clock, if only for twenty-four hours, so he could share another evening with her.
He took a step back and glanced down and played with a strand of her hair. “I’m sorry our summer of fun had to come to an abrupt end. I was just about to call a friend in California to hook me up with an apartment. My old one is still rented out.”
Her bright blue eyes flashed as if he had surprised her. “Of course, no problem.” Her voice faltered.
He searched her face. It seemed she wanted to say something, but was holding back. He kissed her forehead. “I’m going to list the shop. Thought I’d do a little cleaning up first.”
Mary Clare smiled tightly. She suddenly seemed stiff. “Speaking of that, my mom sold the house.”
“Looks like we both have a lot of changes on the horizon.” He frowned. “I wish things could have been different.”
“Me, too.” She crossed her arms over her chest and took a step backward. “I’ll let you get to it.” She turned to leave and he couldn’t help but think the best thing to happen in his life was walking out the door.
Chapter 14
A few weekends later, Mary Clare, Henry and her brother’s family took the boys to the practice motocross track. She’d be lying if she didn’t acknowledge that she hoped she’d run into Jesse, but she knew that was unlikely. He was back on the road with his business. She had heard through her brother that he had leased an apartment in California, more convenient to the motocross tracks out there. She hadn’t seen Jesse since their sudden cooling off after his father’s declining health. It was disappointing, to put it mildly, but she admired his commitment to doing what was best for his dad.
The bike engines roared to life and Mary Clare lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she skimmed the line, searching for Henry. The track was basically an oval on a grass field with a few hills. Not a lot different than riding in an open field like Henry had done for the first time behind Jesse’s trailer.
Stop thinking about Jesse.
Even though she regretted Jesse had to leave right after their so-called summer fling started, she had to give the man credit for giving Henry his newfound confidence.
So much for not thinking about Jesse.
A cluster of bikes rounded the curve and Mary Clare held her breath until she caught sight of Henry. Oh, he was really doing this. Her heart beat with nervous excitement.
Amanda approached the fence, balancing Billy on her hip. “Henry’s doing great out there.”
“He really is.” Mary Clare rested her elbow on the fence, keeping her eyes on the boys zooming around the track. “I’ll have to find your friend to thank him for letting Henry borrow a bike. The boys are having a blast riding at the same time.”
Amanda waved her hand in dismissal. “They’re great people. Actually, all the people I’ve met through motocross are pretty great.”
“I can see that.”
“Hey, any word on the job at Blessed Trinity?”
“No, not yet.” Part of Mary Clare wished she hadn’t told her friend about the application and the follow-up interview, but Mary Clare had been excited. And the interview had gone great. But now, after a few days had passed, she was afraid to hope.
“That would be awesome if it came through. We love having you guys close.” She lowered her arm and met Amanda’s gaze. Billy leaned over and wrapped his little fingers around the rung in the fence and pulled his mom forward. Amanda pried Billy’s fingers from the fence and scolded him.
“I doubt I’ll get it. I have to update my teaching certification. However, I can take a night class to do that. I’m also hoping since it’s a private school and I’m an alum, maybe they’ll give me a shot.” Mary Clare lifted her hand. These were all the arguments she had been making in her head since she heard about the job opening. “I haven’t told Henry. I don’t want him to be disappointed.” She laughed at the irony of it. “One minute I’m determined to move back to Buffalo for him, the next I’m thinking this is where he needs to be.” A gasp rose up from the crowd. A few bikes had collided in a corner and toppled over. Two bystanders ran over to untangle the boys. It took Mary Clare a few nerve-racking seconds to find Henry among the bikes still standing. She released a long breath. Would she ever get u
sed to this?
Amanda smiled brightly and wrapped her free hand around Mary Clare’s shoulders and pulled her close, squeezing Billy between them. “I keep praying things work out.” Amanda put down a wiggling Billy. He took a few steps and she grabbed his hand. “Stay here.”
Mary Clare smiled at her nephew. “I remember that age. It’s constant. And exhausting.”
Amanda rolled her eyes and flattened her hand over her stomach. “Don’t tell anyone, but we’re having another baby.”
“Really?” It was Mary Clare’s turn to pull her sister-in-law into a hug. “Congratulations. I’m really happy for you.”
Amanda pressed her finger to her lips. “I haven’t told your brother yet.” She lowered her voice. “The new baby was a pleasant surprise. I’ll have to convince your brother of it.”
“He’ll be thrilled.” Mary Clare leaned her crossed arms on top of the fence. “You guys are really lucky, you know.”
Amanda nodded. “I do know.” She did a double take when she realized Billy wasn’t standing at her feet. She spun around and ran after the toddler. She scooped him up about ten feet away and he squealed with delight. She hollered over her shoulder, “Only if I wasn’t tired all the time.”
Mary Clare held out her arms and Billy clambered over to her. “You probably shouldn’t be lifting him.”
“I’ll be fine.” Amanda pointed toward the boys. “Look, Zach and Henry are right next to each other?”
Mary Clare sucked in her breath, praying they didn’t collide. Easy. He’ll be fine. “He’s really doing it, isn’t he?”
“He is.” Amanda squeezed her elbow.
A warm hand settled on Mary Clare’s back. She turned around to find Jesse standing behind her. “Hey, stranger,” he whispered in her ear, sending shivers of awareness coursing through her. She hated to acknowledge how instantly her body reacted to him.
“Hey,” Mary Clare said, trying to act casual.
“I’m going to find Bill,” Amanda said, smiling at Jesse, then she turned to walk away.
“Henry’s doing great,” Jesse said, his hand still lingering on her back.
“Yeah.” She studied his face, struggling to read the emotion there. “How’s your dad?”
“Same. But Lynne and I are narrowing in on a long-term care facility for him.” Jesse squinted as he stared into the distance, the pain evident on his face.
The hum of the dirt bike engines on the starting line of the full-size track drowned out all other sounds. She should probably run over and find out where Henry went now that his race was over.
“Hey, Mom.” Mary Clare spun around to find Henry lumbering over in a Frankenstein walk in his dirt bike boots, a smile splitting his face. “Did you see me riding?”
Mary Clare stepped away from Jesse, feeling a little close, blocked in between his body and the fence. She leaned over and ran her thumb over her son’s mud-caked cheek. “I did. You’re doing awesome.”
“Can I race sometime on the big track?”
Mary Clare let out a heavy sigh. “I think you have to be older, sweetie.”
Henry looked past her to Jesse. “You’d help me do a race, right?”
Mary Clare placed a hand on her son’s shoulder. His disappointment was palpable. “Jesse has to travel for work. He might be a little busy for the next few weeks.” Mary Clare cut a glance to Jesse, then back at her son. “Let’s talk about this later.”
Henry spun on his heel and stomped off, the action made less dramatic in his stiff boots.
“I’m sorry if I caused any problems by getting him involved with motocross. I know it makes you nervous.” Jesse dragged a hand through his hair. Tired lines creased his eyes.
“Henry’s probably had the best summer of his young life. He has to learn to take the good with the bad.”
Jesse gestured with his thumb toward a row of RVs and concession stands. “I’m actually working right now. I should get back.”
“You’re covering a track here? I thought you were West Coast.”
“This venue’s a little smaller than we’re used to, but I decided to give it a try since I was going to be in town anyway for my dad.”
Mary Clare nodded, unsure if she should feel hopeful or if she was only lining herself up to have her heart crushed again when he left. She bet on the latter. “Nice to see you. Good luck with everything.” Inwardly she cringed. She sounded like she was talking to a mere acquaintance.
“Yeah, you, too.” Jesse smiled tightly, then turned and walked away.
Jesse’s warm hand settled on her hip. He eased the fabric of her shirt up. Shivers of attraction shot through her body. A soft moan escaped Mary Clare’s lips.
“Mary Clare! Mary Clare!” Her mother’s brash voice broke through her awesome dream. Darn it.
Mary Clare rolled over and covered her head with her pillow to drown out the noise. She had a déjà vu moment, feeling very much like a teenager. Smitten with her brother’s best friend. She totally blamed it on seeing Jesse at the track yesterday. It amplified all the raw emotions she had been feeling toward him that had been left unresolved.
“Mary Clare!” Her mother’s persistence made her finally lift her head. The floral comforter dating from Mary Clare’s middle school days was scrunched up around the foot of the bed.
Mary Clare squinted at the red letters on the digital clock. 10:23. She blinked a few times, but it didn’t change the time. Oh, wow. She shook her head and tossed back the covers. Letting Henry sleep over at his cousins’ had made her lazy. She didn’t have to get up for him.
“Yeah, Mother.”
Her mother poked her head into the bedroom. She cupped her hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone. “Sister Janita is on the phone,” she said in a hoarse whisper.
Twin strands of excitement and nervousness twisted in her empty stomach. She smoothed her bedhead, as if the high school principal could see her over the phone. Mary Clare, did you wake up late this morning? Forget to comb your hair? Tuck in your blouse.
Mary Clare reached out and took the phone from her mother, imagining the nun tapping a pencil on her desk with impatience. She cleared her throat. “Hello.” She twisted away from her mother and pressed the phone tightly to her ear.
“Mary Clare? This is Sister Janita. I hope I’m not calling too early.”
“Of course not.” Another little black dot on her soul. “I was already up.” She waved frantically for her mother to leave the room. She was going to hell for sure.
“Well, I have very good news. We’d love to have you join our faculty this September.”
Mary Clare found herself breathing heavily. “Oh, thank you. That’s wonderful. I’ll be teaching ninth grade math?”
“Well, actually, we were wondering if you’d be interested in a position as a substitute teacher until you get your certification. You’ll have that by spring, right?”
“Yes, I should have everything set by spring.”
“That’s great. We’d love to have you. We expect another math position will be opening the following academic year. And if everything works out, I believe you’d be a great fit.”
Bubbles of excitement flitted in her belly. “Thank you.”
“Can you come into the school next Monday to fill out the paperwork? We can discuss salary and benefits then.”
“Of course, Sister.” Mary Clare crawled out of bed and paced the small space in her bedroom, trying to burn off her nerves. “I’ll see you on Monday, then. Thank you.” Mary Clare hung up the phone and punched the air.
Her mother peeked into the room, clutching her hands to her chest in anticipation. “What was that about?” She had an odd look on her face.
“I got a job teaching at Blessed Trinity.” She couldn’t contain her huge smile. She wrapped her arms around her mother and squeezed. Then Mary Clare held her mother at arm’s length to see the joyous expression on her face. “We still have to discuss salary, but the offer’s on the table. Pretty cool, huh?”
> “Oh, that’s wonderful.” Her mother’s words sounded oddly flat.
“What is it?” Already the bubbles of excitement were popping.
“Catholic schools never pay that much. How will you afford a place to live?” Her mother’s lips pursed.
Anger began to grow behind Mary Clare’s eyes. “Mom, you were the one who first floated this idea out there. Why are you being all gloom and doom now? For once, I’d love it if you didn’t nitpick all my decisions.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized it was a mistake. She never confronted her mother. It was easier to just walk away and grumble about it afterward.
Her mother seemed to reel back with a hand on her chest, as if she’d been shot. “I don’t do that.” She turned and walked down the stairs, as if that was the end of the discussion.
“Yes, you do.” Mary Clare crossed her arms over her PJs and pounded down the stairs behind her mother, feeling more than a little like a petulant teenager. But this discussion was long overdue. “It’s like you don’t trust me to make the right decision. You hover over me like I’m five years old. I’m an adult. I need your support. Not your judgment.” Her pulse whooshed in her ears. She had never spoken this plainly before. She had taken her lumps and walked away miserable.
Not this time.
Her mother pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and dropped down in it. She calmly folded her hands on top of one another on the table. “I’m your mother. I love you and I want what’s best for you.”
Mary Clare sat down next to her and put her hands on the table, inches away from her mom’s hands. “I know you love me. But you can’t control me.”
Hurt and anger flashed in her mother’s eyes. “You do the same for Henry. I’ve seen you. You don’t want him to get hurt. It’s our job. You can understand that now that you’re a mom yourself.”
Mary Clare slumped back in the chair. Her mother was right. Mary Clare micromanaged and judged Henry much the way she had been while growing up. Sure, Henry was still a little kid, but it was her job to help him grow up to be strong and confident. Not someone who overanalyzed every decision because he feared failure.