by Sherry Lewis
Hoping she’d made the right choice, she got up from her chair to make tea. As she reached for the kettle, she caught movement out the kitchen window. When she looked closer, she realized that Doris Preston was marching up the walk toward the door, wearing a look that meant business.
What was she doing here, and why now?
Determined not to let the woman intimidate her, Molly took a couple of deep breaths for courage and crossed to the door. She opened it just as Doris reached for the knob, and felt a flash of irritation that the woman didn’t even have the courtesy to knock.
“Mrs. Preston. What a surprise.” Molly didn’t trust Doris not to look for something she could use against her later, so she kept a friendly smile in place. “Beau’s away on a flight and the kids are at school. What can I do for you?”
“Not a thing, Molly. I’m just here to pick up a few things for the children.” She brushed past Molly and into the kitchen, where she tugged off her gloves, one finger at a time.
Confused, Molly shut the door behind her and leaned against it. “For the children?”
“Brianne and Nicky. They’ll be coming to stay with me after school.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize…” Molly pushed away from the door and glanced at the cordless phone sitting beside the laptop computer. “I must have been online when Beau called. I didn’t know you were coming.”
Doris spied one of Brianne’s sweaters on a chair and practically swooped down on it. “Beau doesn’t know I’m here,” she said with a thin smile. “I heard that he was away and I decided to take matters into my own hands. There’s no reason for you to be burdened with the kids. They’re my grandchildren.”
“You haven’t talked this over with Beau?”
“Beau doesn’t discuss the children with me these days.” Doris ran a glance the length of Molly and turned away again. “I wonder why.”
Her implication couldn’t have been clearer, but it was so unfair Molly felt as if she’d been kicked. “You think it’s my fault?”
“Well, someone’s behind it. Things were fine around here until you came to town.”
“That’s not true,” Molly protested. “Beau had already asked you to stay away before I arrived. I didn’t get to town until later.”
“That may be true—technically.” Doris finished folding Brianne’s sweater and held it close. “But if you hadn’t come back when you did, I’m sure he and I would have patched up our differences a long time ago.”
Was this some kind of joke? A bad dream? It certainly couldn’t be real. Molly studied the older woman’s face, trying to find some hint of a smile or a flicker of amusement in her eyes, but she saw only anger. “Surely you don’t believe that. Why would I want to keep you and Beau from reconciling your differences?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it? I’ve asked myself the same thing a hundred times these past few weeks. I suppose some people are like that, always stirring up trouble…”
Molly couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I’m not here to stir up trouble,” she said. “I’m just here to find out about my mother.”
“Still? You mean nobody’s told you the truth yet?”
Molly shook her head. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t want to talk about her mother with this angry, venomous woman.
“Well, that figures.” Doris picked up one of Nicky’s trucks from a corner of the room and moved it to another. “Really, Molly, this is pointless. I’m here to pick up a few things for the kids, not to argue with you. I wouldn’t want the children to be a burden on you.”
Molly’s cheeks flamed with heat, but she managed to sound reasonable when she said, “In the first place, the kids aren’t a burden. And in the second place, Beau asked me to stay with them. He’s expecting to find them here when he comes home.”
“That’s easily fixed. I’ll leave him a note and tell him where they are. I can have them back here five minutes after he calls.”
Although she forced a smile, inside Molly was shaking like a leaf. Doris wasn’t particularly frightening, so what was it about this that bothered her so? “It’s not really a question of how soon you could bring them back,” she said. Her voice still sounded almost normal, much to her surprise. “I told Beau I’d stay with the kids, and I really can’t change plans without his consent.”
Doris sighed and propped her hands on the table as if she meant business. “I don’t think you understand, Molly. I’m not asking for permission. I’m telling you that I’m not letting my grandchildren back into this house until their father gets home.”
Her voice was filled with such venom Molly had to fight not to recoil from it. “Is it just because Beau’s gone, or are you saying that you have a problem with me?”
The expression on Doris’s face left little to wonder about. “I really don’t think we need to dig up all that old unpleasantness, do we?”
Molly stopped moving completely. “What old unpleasantness?”
“Oh, I think we both know the answer to that.” Doris gave an airy wave of her hand. “You know what they say—the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“And I’m supposed to be the apple in your analogy?”
Doris looked at Molly over the tops of her glasses. “I don’t blame you for what your mother did, Molly, but where children are concerned, you simply can’t take chances. Everybody knew what your mother was up to back then—everybody but poor Frank, that is. But he found out eventually. The truth always comes out, no matter how hard people try to hide it.”
The pounding of Molly’s heart should have drowned out Doris’s hateful words, but they came through loud and clear. A dozen questions rose to Molly’s lips, but she wouldn’t let herself ask them. Doris was too angry, too filled with whatever ugly emotion drove her, and Molly didn’t want it to throw shadows on her mother’s memory and make things worse.
She picked up Brianne’s sweater, where Doris had dropped it, and very deliberately carried it to the washing machine. “I’m sorry, Doris, but I can’t let you take the kids’ things without Beau’s permission. You’re welcome to call him. If he’s not flying, I’m sure he’ll have his cell phone on. I just need to know that he’s agreeable. I’m sure you understand.”
“You don’t have the right to tell me no. Those are my grandchildren.”
“I understand that, but Beau is their father, and he asked me to stay with them.” Something flashed in the back of her mind, but it was gone so quickly she couldn’t identify it. Again, she tried appealing to Doris’s better nature. “I know you’re concerned about Brianne and Nicky. The past year has been rough on them—even an outsider can see that. It’s also obvious that you love them and you want what’s best for them.”
“Don’t patronize me,” Doris snapped. “It’s insulting.”
Molly held up both hands to avoid the accusation. “I’m not trying to do either. I know how hard divorce can be, and I know that when one person makes a decision, it affects everyone around them. I know you love Heather, and this has been hard on you, too.”
Doris didn’t respond, which was enough to give Molly hope that maybe she’d listen. She’d never forgive herself if she made Beau’s situation worse.
Motioning toward the table, she tried again. “Why don’t you sit down? I was just about to make some tea, and I’m sure if we try, we can find a compromise.”
“I don’t need a compromise with you.”
“But you do. It’s not about me or about you. Brianne and Nicky are the ones who matter, and they’ll be hurt if you and I can’t at least be civil to one another as long as I’m here.”
Doris’s frown was grim, but she was obviously considering the suggestion.
Molly grabbed the kettle and headed for the sink, chattering as if Doris had uttered a gracious acceptance. “I’ve been meaning to talk to Beau about Brianne,” she said as she filled the kettle. “She’s nearly thirteen, and she seems very interested in hair and makeup and clothes and shoes.” She stole a glanc
e at Doris, who moved slowly toward a chair and gripped it with both hands. “I was going to suggest a shopping trip—maybe to Jackson? But I’m sure she’d rather go with you than me.”
To Molly’s surprise, Doris almost smiled. “I’m not so sure about that, but thank you. It’s a nice gesture.”
“The kids love you, Doris. You’ve been through something very upsetting together, and they need you to help them make sense of it. But I know from experience that it will only hurt them, to hide things from them or try to paint a pretty picture over the truth.”
She found tea in the cupboard and smiled sadly. “I don’t know exactly what happened between my parents before my mom died, but I do know it isn’t even close to what my dad told me. I found out a couple of weeks ago that my parents were having problems in their marriage. I’m thirty-three, and I never knew that before I came back here. I’m so angry with him now, I can hardly stand to think about him—not because he and my mom were having trouble, but because he lied to me about it.” She carried cups and saucers to the table. “The truth is sometimes hard to take, but even when you’re a kid, the truth is better than a lie.”
“I don’t believe that. I don’t believe it would be better for those children to be told their mother isn’t coming back.”
“It would be better than being told she’s coming back to live with their father when you know that’s not going to happen.”
“I don’t know that,” Doris insisted, but the sadness in her eyes told a different story. She shot to her feet again and turned her back on Molly. “It’s a phase, that’s all. A ridiculous, hurtful, selfish, indulgent phase.”
The pain she was feeling grew more evident with every word, and Molly wondered if the poor woman had ever let herself discuss Heather’s decision with anyone. Judging from the way she moved and the look on her face, Molly would bet she’d kept the hurt and anger locked away all this time.
The kettle began to whistle and Molly turned to get it. “I don’t know Heather well enough to understand why she made the choices she made, but I don’t think you should keep blaming yourself for what she did.”
Doris whipped back around, and the grief on her face was so powerful Molly felt as if it might tear her in two. “I’m her mother. She is what she is because of me. I don’t know what I did wrong. I don’t know where I made my mistakes. I’ve gone over everything a million times since she came and told me what she was going to do. Maybe if I’d intervened more when she argued with her father. Maybe if I’d been stricter. If I’d taken her to church more often. Or less. Maybe I was too strict.”
The older woman covered her face with her hands, and her shoulders began to shake. “I’ve tried to make it up to those poor kids, but I can’t. No matter how much I do, it’s just never enough.”
Molly abandoned the tea and moved closer to the woman, whose pain seemed to fill the entire room. “Oh, but, Mrs. Preston, don’t you see? You don’t have to make anything up to them. They don’t blame you for what their mother did, and nobody expects you to ‘fix’ what their mother has done. You can’t make Heather’s choices for her. You’re not personally responsible for the ones she makes. And if this isn’t a choice, if she really can’t change who she is, then doesn’t she need you to just love her?”
“Do you have any idea what people will think if they find out?” The question came out in a rush of agony.
Molly’s heart softened even more. “Some people might think the worst, but some won’t. And surely Heather matters more to you than a bunch of neighbors. She’s your own flesh and blood.”
When Doris didn’t say anything, Molly decided to leave that subject alone.
“What the kids need is for you to fill part of the gap Heather’s left by going away. But that should be easy when you love somebody as much as you love them.”
Doris dropped her hands and regarded Molly intently. “I guess I owe you an apology,” she said after what felt like forever. “I misjudged you.” She smiled ruefully and dug into her handbag, finally producing a tissue, which she put to work wiping away the remnants of her tears. “You really aren’t anything like Ruby, are you?”
Molly’s smile evaporated. “I don’t understand.” She wasn’t sure she wanted to.
“It’s a compliment, dear,” Doris said, wagging the tissue in the space between them. “Your mother was a wonderful woman in a lot of ways, but she wasn’t perfect, was she? And when you think about what she put your poor father through…”
Molly could hardly bear the thought of hearing the truth from Doris, but she forced herself to ask, “What did she put him through?”
“Well, I don’t know all the details of course. But I do know that Ruby could be quite the flirt when we were younger. The men our age were just wild for her.” Judging from the expression on Doris’s face, a young man she’d cared about had probably been one of them. “All I know is that she lied to Frank about something. Whatever it was, it nearly destroyed him. I never could feel the same about her afterward.”
“But you don’t know what?”
“No, but I can guess.”
Molly wasn’t interested in Doris’s speculations. She’d already endured enough of those.
“It’s not good to speak ill of the dead,” Doris said, “but I’m glad to see you’re not like her, after all.” She tucked the tissue away and glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. “I know you’re making tea, but I really can’t stay. I’ll phone Beau in a day or two about taking Brianne shopping. You’ll let him know?”
Molly nodded. She couldn’t do anything else.
But as she watched Doris walk back to her car, she knew she’d just been pushed into making a decision she’d been putting off too long. Sooner or later, she was going to learn the truth about her parents’ marriage. It was inevitable. The only real questions were how and when.
IT WAS WELL after dark before Beau finally finished up at the airstrip and headed home. His eyes burned and every muscle in his body felt as if someone had tied it in a knot, but he’d made a substantial amount of money for two days’ work and wasn’t about to complain. He just hoped that the kids hadn’t been too much for Molly. She’d sounded fine when he talked to her that morning, but he hadn’t had a spare minute since to check in with her.
The Halloween decorations along Front Street had given way to Thanksgiving, and Beau realized with a start that the holiday was just a couple of weeks away. His mom had invited them all for dinner, including Molly, but he hadn’t discussed the invitation with her. Nor had he checked with Doris to make sure the kids would be included in Preston family celebrations.
Life was slowly becoming more organized. He still had a way to go, but the house wasn’t a complete disaster anymore, and he had a lot to celebrate this year.
The idea of contacting Heather skittered across his mind, but he shoved it away again. Molly was probably right about him taking the initiative to invite her back into the kids’ lives, and he might take her advice one of these days. He just wasn’t ready to do so yet.
He pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine, yawning hard enough to make his eyes water. Lights burned in the windows, and the house looked more inviting than it had in months.
On the porch he stopped to watch his family through the window for a few minutes. He was captivated by the sight of Brianne’s smile, the sound of Nicky’s laughter and the joy on Molly’s face. As if someone had opened a door, he felt warmth and something he couldn’t identify rushing through him.
Long before Heather had told him the truth, he’d suspected that something was wrong, and his doubts and fears had been eating at him for a long, long time. It had been years since he’d felt anything but tightness and anger and suspicion in the deepest part of him, but those emotions were gone, and he had Molly to thank. And if he and Heather eventually made peace, he’d have Molly to thank for that, too.
He watched as she turned, laughing, and took a sparkly item out of a bag at her feet. Pulling Brianne’
s hair up on one side, she secured it with the jeweled clip. The delight on his daughter’s face shocked him, and his reaction told him that it had been far longer than he’d realized since she’d been truly happy, as well.
Without even trying, Molly had worked miracles in all their lives, and in that moment Beau knew he couldn’t let her leave Serenity.
Eager to join them, he reached for the doorknob, but the vibration of his cell phone in his pocket made him draw back his hand. He pulled the phone out, saw Doris’s name on the screen and groaned softly. She was the last person he wanted to talk to right now, but maybe it was a good thing she’d called before he got inside where the kids could hear.
He stepped into the shadows and steeled himself for the usual argument, the same old discussion.
“I know you’ve been away for a couple of days,” Doris said when he answered, “but I’d like to talk to you. Is this a good time?”
“Not really. I’m just getting home. I haven’t even walked in the door yet.”
“It’ll only take a minute.” She took a deep breath and let it out again slowly. “I’ll get the hard part over with first. I owe you an apology. Heather leaving the way she did, announcing after thirty years that she’s…not herself…” She laughed nervously. “Let’s just say that I haven’t dealt well with what’s happened, and I’ve tried to place the burden for fixing everything on your shoulders. I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry.”
Beau leaned against the porch railing and tried to take in what she’d just told him. “Okay, but…how…?”
Doris went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “I’d like to stop being angry, the two of us. I thought maybe I could take each of the kids for a day—if that’s okay with you. Molly suggested that Brianne might like a shopping trip, and I’m sure Nicky could use some new things, too. I promise there’ll be no talk about reconciliations. I won’t mention Heather unless the kids bring her up.”