Such Happiness as This

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Such Happiness as This Page 12

by Laina Villeneuve

Kristine recognized the box and smiled. “Tell me there are some of those chocolate-dipped peanut butter cookies in there.”

  “Of course,” she answered, slipping the knockoff Peekaboo bag from her shoulder and hanging it on the back of a chair.

  “Unless you want Caemon digging through that, I’d hang it on one of the high hooks by the back door.”

  Grace followed Kristine’s instructions. “Where is Mr. Mischief?”

  “He’s doing puzzles with Granddad.”

  “What can I do to help?” she asked, pushing up the sleeves of her black turtleneck.

  “Steal Eliza from Gloria. I could put you to work chopping fruit, but I know holding a baby is more your speed.”

  “Everyone is here to celebrate your birthday. Tell me what needs doing and go join the party.”

  “Honestly, I don’t even know what I’m doing. Robyn told me to slice tomato and mozzarella.”

  “Sounds like she wants bruschetta. Got it. She’s on her way?” Grace tried to ask casually.

  Kristine leaned into Grace. “With a lasagna she made me for my birthday.”

  “It really is too bad that woman doesn’t like me when I could so get used to her cooking.” And kissing, she thought to herself.

  “There’s a filly you wouldn’t mind having in your barn?” Kristine asked, resting the backs of her elbows against the counter instead of leaving to join the party.

  “Are you for real?”

  “She is,” Gloria said, breezing through to grab a bottle of wine and a few glasses.

  Kristine wiggled her eyebrows in response. “And taken,” she added as Gloria passed through the kitchen, planting a kiss on her and attempting to catch her in an embrace.

  “Hands off! I’ve been sent in for drinks. I’ve got wine for my dad, but I told your brother and Dani you’d be out with their beers.”

  “You bet.” After she pulled the drinks from the fridge, she returned to her original question. “Is it just her cooking, or could you really be interested in her?”

  “I realize I don’t know her well,” Grace said, slicing the Roma tomatoes precisely. “But I would very much like to.”

  “Why not ask her out?” Kristine asked. Bottle tops off, she held three beers, poised to join the party.

  “Her tenant divulged that she’s only recently out of a long relationship. She’s not ready for me.”

  Kristine laughed. “Would anyone ever be ready for you?”

  Grace joined in the laughter. “Of course not! No one is ever ready for a fiery redhead.”

  A cheer rose from the living room. “They’re not supposed to be having fun without me,” Kristine said. “I’m off to investigate.”

  Moments later, Grace felt Robyn’s presence in the kitchen. The flit of butterflies in her stomach made her want to say something saucy, but she checked herself. “Would it be easier if I left the kitchen to you?” she asked, wanting to make Robyn’s life less complicated.

  “No,” Robyn answered simply. “Kristine said you volunteered to help?”

  “Happy to,” Grace answered cautiously, wondering if Kristine was working some mischief of her own.

  The kitchen felt smaller than it had when she’d shared it with Kristine. Robyn wasn’t a lot taller or more muscular, but she carried none of Kristine’s zany energy. Robyn’s posture brought a cool formality that made Grace feel like she needed to take care. As they worked side by side, Grace was tempted to talk, her mind spinning on the information she had about Robyn’s breakup and her ex. She imagined sharing the dating fiasco she’d experienced with Meg. She ran several conversations in her head at the same time wondering if Robyn’s mind was equally busy.

  For all of the caution she felt initially, the longer they stood without talking, the more Grace relaxed. She began to carry the sides out to the table, ignoring Kristine’s attempt to excuse her from the kitchen.

  She’d assured Kristine that she was having a fine time, pleased to be able to free her from the party details. Returning to the kitchen, she said, “That lasagna smells divine. And you made that bread, didn’t you?” she asked.

  “Kristine said they enjoyed the bread I brought when Eliza was first born.”

  “Yes, I remember.” Grace saw Robyn’s hands pause at the task of slicing olives for the salad. She wanted to place her hand between those still shoulder blades. Touching people came naturally to her, yet while Robyn’s body called to her, she sensed the action would push her further into retreat.

  She felt a ridiculous desire to protect Robyn from the praise she would obviously receive when they sat down to eat. “Surely you know that people love everything you make.”

  Robyn’s light blue eyes flicked to her, and Grace could see that she didn’t know. She might hear the kind words people said, but she didn’t believe them in her heart. “Salad’s finished,” she said, carrying it out to the table.

  Tucking away her newfound knowledge of Robyn’s modesty, Grace joined her at the decked out table, surprised when she sat next to her. Robyn chatted easily about her grandmother’s recipes and how she remembered working the same garden plots in her backyard with her grandparents during the summer. The guests at the table echoed her reverence for family, and Grace felt envious of how lucky Kristine was to be surrounded by such loving people, both relatives and friends. Caemon clearly adored his grandparents and was over-the-moon excited to see his Uncle Gabe. Kristine’s brother had driven from Quincy with his friends Hope and Dani.

  Ironically, it was Robyn who engaged the couple, who had used Kristine’s birthday as an excuse to visit Eureka with their one-year-old daughter, Joy. Robyn and Hope talked gardening, Hope earning Caemon’s immediate respect when she admitted that she prepared her garden with a small tractor. Although Kristine had introduced Dani as the subject of the rodeo series she’d sent to the gallery in Houston, Grace had failed to use that tidbit to generate a conversation. Normally, it would have given her all she needed, yet she found herself drawing back from the group, observing rather than participating.

  How many of her birthdays had she celebrated without her parents when they were still alive, believing that it didn’t matter since she’d see them the next holiday? Four birthdays had passed. She and Leah didn’t even call each other anymore, largely because of Grace’s refusal to give their brother another chance.

  Eliza began to fuss in Gloria’s lap prompting her to push back from the table. Grace intercepted her. “I’ll change her. You enjoy your food hot.”

  Gloria accepted, and Grace cradled the baby against her chest, carrying her back to the room the children shared. “I hope your brother is like your uncle Gabe,” she whispered as she changed Eliza’s diaper. “I’m guessing he’s why you and Caemon look so much like your mama, isn’t he?” She blinked back tears to finish her task, swooping the baby into her arms, applying her like a balm to the heartache that burned in her chest.

  Even if she’d wanted children, she couldn’t ask her brother whose troubled past had shattered her trust in him. She dabbed at her tears. Another thing he had taken from her, whether she wanted it or not. Again, his choices affected others, and she knew he would never admit to it, would never own that if not for his needing to be bailed out yet again, their parents would still be alive.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Grace sat in the dark in her Mini Cooper, watching the rain fall quietly, knowing she should join the other three players inside. She glanced at her cell on the seat beside her where she’d thrown it after ending the latest call from her sister. Why hadn’t she let it roll to voice mail? Her anger kept her from crying, but the enormity of the call kept her from moving.

  She could pick up her phone and call Jen and tell her that she was sick. Truthfully, her sister’s call had made her feel ill, but she couldn’t make herself reach for the phone. They had already begun practicing. Robyn’s house sat on a one-way street, and she’d parked right in front where she could hear the sweet harmonies of the Mendelssohn scherzo, minus h
er cello’s rich voice.

  Movement on the porch caught her eye, and she saw Robyn walk to her truck parked in the drive parallel to Grace’s car. Only the sidewalk separated their vehicles. Despite the rain Robyn’s movements were unhurried as she folded her frame behind the wheel. About to crank the ignition, she looked out at the street, her eyes instantly finding Grace.

  Grace bowed her head toward her lap, willing Robyn to leave. She closed her eyes and mentally put herself back on her porch playing “The Swan,” a soothing piece which she turned to when the chaos of her mind threatened to overwhelm her. The score had the power to force everything else in her life to drop away. Frustrations and demands created hard angles, points and sharp edges inside her. She knew some musicians who turned to pieces that demanded an attack that mirrored their feelings inside. Instead, she turned to Saint-Saëns’ gentle melody which smoothed her jagged emotions into an arc-shaped serenity. Suspended in time by the music, she could find calm.

  Any other day, she would have leapt from the car and dragged her cello inside. Any other day, she wouldn’t have even been in her car to see Robyn leaving, but she was immobilized. “The Swan” wasn’t working.

  Wondering why it was taking Robyn so long to leave, Grace chanced another look in the truck. Robyn sat with her hand poised on the key in the ignition, but she was still looking Grace’s way. When their eyes met again, she pulled the key from the ignition and, to Grace’s dismay, got out of her truck and walked to the Mini.

  Grace rolled down the window.

  “Everything okay?” Robyn asked. She kept her distance from the car and pulled the hood of her coat up. “Do you need an umbrella to carry in your instrument?”

  “That’s nice of you to offer,” Grace said. “But…” Robyn’s generosity spun Grace’s mind back to her sister’s angry voice demanding to know when she’d become so selfish. Growing up, the two of them had been so close, but their parents’ deaths had highlighted the differences between them, differences that were increasingly difficult to ignore. The tears that anger had held at bay slipped.

  “You’re not okay,” Robyn stated, concern in her voice. “You’re shaking. Come inside?”

  “No, no. I’m okay,” she said, crying harder because of Robyn’s kindness. “You were leaving. I don’t want to keep you.”

  “It’s nothing. Come inside.”

  The statement engaged her rational mind. She needed to unload her sister’s demand and see if she was crazy to think it so unreasonable. If Kristine weren’t so busy with kids and work, she would have called her, but Kristine trusted Robyn, so by extension, Grace did too.

  Inside, she shrugged out of her wet coat and let Robyn take it from her. “Tea to warm you up?”

  Grace paused. “If you’ve got something to spike it with.”

  “Hot toddy?”

  “That would be so lovely.” She glanced at the staircase. “I need to tell Jen I’m not up for practice.”

  “I’ll tell her. There’s a throw on the couch. Sit tight.”

  The large living room was dark with only one floor lamp against the far wall between the couch and bookcase. Grace remembered that huge hydrangeas surrounded the house, blocking the streetlights. The corner formed by the outside walls was taken up with two worn couches. The tips of the armrests touched, and a table with a towering philodendron sat between them. An old roll top desk occupied the space closest to the door and a floor-to-ceiling bookcase ran the entire length of the inner wall. A tiny TV sat surrounded by stacks of books. Arms wrapped around herself, Grace browsed the titles.

  Robyn sat on the couch facing the bookshelves and set two mismatched mugs of amber liquid on the large burl table in front of the couch. Grace sat on the other and reached for one of the mugs.

  Grace studied Robyn’s completely unmasked face. The beginnings of crow’s feet revealed her concern, and she realized that Robyn was completely at ease. In every encounter they had shared, Robyn had proven unflappable. While that quality bothered her in the sense that Grace had done her best to rattle her with the kiss on Wedding Rock, she realized it would make Robyn the perfect sounding board.

  “Tell me about forgiveness,” she began. “Say a person’s bad choices rob you of everything you love in life. Do you owe that person another chance? Do you owe them a place to live?”

  Robyn sipped her toddy and leaned against the side of the couch and rested her temple on her thumb. “Depends on how much it costs you either way. A girlfriend burns you, I say no. She doesn’t deserve another chance to break your heart.”

  When their eyes met, Grace wondered if Robyn had heard about Barbara’s marriage yet. Would Jen have told her?

  Robyn pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and looked away. “Family’s different. You always forgive family. To withhold ends up harming you as much as it does them.”

  Grace sipped her drink, absorbing Robyn’s words. She took a deep breath. “My brother’s been living with my sister and her family since he was released from prison.” She avoided Robyn’s eyes, staring into the liquid that warmed her hands and insides. “Tonight she dropped the bomb that it’s not working for her and she’d like him to come live with me.”

  The few times she’d listened to updates about Tyler, Grace had ignored Leah’s not so subtle suggestions that a change in scenery would be good for him to make a new start. As long as he wasn’t getting into trouble again, Grace didn’t see why they were talking about it at all. Drinking deeply from her mug, she tried to stop the shaking inside that had started the second she pictured seeing her brother again.

  “You’re not close?” Robyn asked.

  “You could say that. How could we be with a seventeen-year-age difference?”

  “Ooops?”

  “A big one. I was a junior in high school, and my sister was twelve. For the longest time, the family joke was how their accident was hugely effective as birth control for us. After we saw firsthand what looking after a baby actually meant, there were no unintended pregnancies for me or my sister!

  “I barely knew him. My sister babied him, but I went away to college. I felt like an aunt more than anything, not really knowing quite how to act with him when I went home. As a teen, he started defying my parents, and my mom would call asking me for advice. Like I had any insight at all about how to control him. I graduated at the top of my class, and he dropped out of high school. I got a job right out of grad school and have been financially independent ever since. He got his GED when my parents threatened to stop supporting him. My mom took over my room as her craft space since I only went home to visit. Tyler never moved out, but he hardly lived there. He always treated our parents’ home like a place to crash and grab an occasional meal.”

  “Sounds like they were preoccupied. Did your sister feel sidelined as well?”

  “She met her husband, Craig. My mom didn’t want to bother them. Who wants to ruin the mood for the new couple?” Grace’s tone was sharper than she intended.

  “You weren’t with anyone?”

  “I was.”

  “But your mom didn’t consider your relationship?”

  “No. If I wasn’t there to hear her gripe about Tyler, she’d lay it all on my girlfriend Steph. Anyone was fair game.”

  Robyn sipped her drink patiently while Grace thought about how upset her father had been when she and Stephanie split. He couldn’t understand how she could walk away from someone so perfect. Stephanie’s involvement in the drama about Tyler made her seem part of their family. But despite that, Grace had never felt that deeply for her.

  “She couldn’t handle it?” Robyn asked.

  “Oh, she loved it. Ate it up, insisted that I couldn’t cope with any of it on my own, especially when…” Grace swallowed and considered taking another sip of her toddy but set it down, aware of how her hands shook. She folded them on her lap in front of her. “Especially after my parents died.”

  “Oh, Grace.” Robyn set down her mug and reached across the space to squeeze G
race’s hand.

  If the tears came, Grace knew Robyn would move to hold her, and she didn’t want that, didn’t want to break down and relive that grief tonight. She was too angry. She wanted to be able to see Robyn’s reaction and ask again about forgiveness and see in her eyes if she still felt the same. She pushed back the tears, cleared her throat and poured out the details.

  “My parents refused to give him any money unless he continued his education. Instead of enrolling at the local community college, he funded his pot and gaming with petty crime. That eventually escalated to burglary, and he was arrested climbing out of the window of a neighbor’s home. As always, he called our parents to bail him out, with his usual promises to clean up his act. My parents were on their way to the police station when a truck crossed the center divider.”

  She still had trouble with the next part. Saying they had died still sucked her breath away.

  Robyn scooted forward until her knees touched Grace’s. “Were they killed instantly?”

  Grace nodded, thankful that Robyn supplied the words.

  “How many years ago?”

  “Four. He was sentenced to four years for burglary of an occupied residence, but he only served two. He was the model prisoner and sailed through his parole,” Grace said bitterly. “So…Tell me about forgiveness.”

  She regretted her bitter tone when Robyn scooted back on the couch. “Your sister forgave him? You said he’s been living with her family.”

  “Yes, and I thought it was fine. She’s been so enthusiastic about some projects of his. I thought that she was just trying to nudge my professional side into acknowledging him. Then she made the ridiculous suggestion about him living with me, so I could help him be seen…But then tonight she came clean and told me that Craig had never wanted Tyler living with them. Now I learn that he’s not thrilled an ex-con is living with his kids and that no one in town sees him as anything but the loser responsible for his parents’ death.”

  Robyn didn’t say anything.

  Grace leaned back into the couch. “I know. I recognize the irony. But he robbed me of my mother and father. He took away their future, my future with them. Why would I want to help him start over?”

 

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