by Ines Saint
They went to The Mall at Fairfield Commons to walk dinner off, because Holly’s father thought it was too cold for a walk in the park, and looked at the Christmas window displays and Santa’s workshop.
Parents walked by with their children in tow, some dragging their feet, some entertained by the festive displays. Teenage girls chatted nonstop, going from one store to the next, and teenage boys checked the girls out while pretending to be too cool for the mall. It was all so very suburban USA. The way she’d grown up in the countless places where she’d lived. The way she’d thought life would be after she and Ben graduated from college and got married.
When they got home, her father and Ella went inside to get warm, while Ben led her to the bench outside. The grass was still green and a few dead leaves still clung to the trees. There was something peaceful about the last days of fall. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, after a while.
“Old dreams.” Holly tried to smile. Ben was about to tell her his news and she was now dreading it. Somehow she knew it would change her world.
“What old dreams? You had a lot of them.”
“The dream about three kids, their endless sports and activities in the suburbs, with me volunteering at the excellent schools they’d attend.” She grinned. “Can you believe I even dreamt about owning a minivan and sliding the doors open, with my kids and their friends spilling out of it to go run and play in the park?”
“Do you still want those things?” Ben asked, turning to her.
“Sort of. Just not so . . . generic, I guess.” She paused, hoping to make him see how good their life there was. “My dream is now set in Spinning Hills, which, technically, is a suburb and a small town. But it’s an inner ring suburb of a city that is trying to reinvent itself and succeeding little by little. The schools are excellent now, but to us they were equally great when the state deemed them just okay, and we’re such a close community. It feels good to be a small part of it.”
“What about the minivan and the endless sports?” Ben leaned back now, and for the first time ever, it seemed like he was listening to her.
Holly managed a small smile. “Okay, well, I no longer want the minivan, because I just have Ella, and we both love my Beetle. And, as you well know, Ella’s not into sports, but she loves theater and ballet and music, and we’re in a perfect place to explore all of it. And the icing on the cake is that my little perfumery is beyond anything I ever dreamed. People actually come and visit downtown Spinning Hills for the first time because they’re looking for my shop. Ella’s so proud of that.”
“Do you think it would be hard for Ella to be away from it a few months out of the year?”
Panic clogged her throat. This was it. The moment she’d been dreading for years. “What do you mean?” she asked, unable to look at him.
“I’m getting married, Holly.”
As happy as she wanted to be for him, her first thought was what it would mean for Ella. The life she’d just been talking about was beginning to feel like it had been built on quicksand. “Congratulations,” she said in a watery voice, looking down.
Ben tipped her chin up and looked into her teary eyes. “Seeing as you left me in the middle of the night, I’m guessing your tears aren’t for me.”
Holly swiped her eyes, her hands trembling. Ben took one of her hands in his. He knew she knew what was coming next, yet he was trying to break it to her in as easy a way as possible. After what she’d done to him and what he’d done to her, they’d managed to stay friends, for Ella’s sake. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d found someone?”
“It all happened in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I’ve dated a lot and it never led to anything. Amy and I have been going out for almost a year, but the seriousness of it crept up on me, I guess.”
“Do you love her?”
He laughed. “Of course I do.” He put his arm around her and hugged her close. “I don’t ask just anyone to marry me, you know.”
Holly’s heart was too heavy to laugh or smile. “You don’t expect Ella to visit you in a war-torn country, do you, Ben? I don’t want a fight, but I won’t allow that.”
Ben looked into her eyes. “I know that. I don’t want that, either. It’s why I couldn’t stay mad at you. I’m retiring in five years and I can remain stateside for those five years. I can’t choose where, but I can be in this corner of the world. I miss Ella and it hurts that I’ve missed out on so much. Amy is dying to meet her, and she’ll be a great second mom to Ella, Holly.”
Second mom. How could any mom like the sound of those words? But it wasn’t her choice.
And she hadn’t loved Ben when she’d left him, but part of the reason was because he hadn’t been willing to live stateside for her. He hadn’t even tried when he found out she was pregnant or at any time during the past five years. It was hard not to feel resentful that he’d waited this long to change. “How much time will you want?” she asked, fighting to remain civil.
“I want what’s fair, and I hope you and I can come up with an arrangement without any outside intervention. I’ve been told I should have at least six weeks every summer, every other weekend, and that we should swap holidays.”
“Six weeks is too much, Ben. I can’t do it.”
Ben blew out a breath. “Now’s not a good time to start negotiating, Holly. Let it sink in first. I don’t want a fight.”
Holly placed her hands on her lap and stared at them. Should she have stayed with Ben? Her world wouldn’t be falling apart now if she had. Had she tried hard enough to save her marriage? Memories came flooding back and she felt, rather than knew, she had.
“We’ll come up with something. I know we will.” It was the right thing to say and the correct direction to take, even if she didn’t quite believe it yet. “And I’d like to meet Amy.”
She took a deep breath and looked up. “Do you mind if I stay here alone a little while?” she asked, resentment threatening to take over. She’d handled it well so far, on the outside. Ben squeezed her shoulder, offered her a sad smile, and left.
Before she could begin to try to pick her heart up, her father’s voice cut through the air. “I knew it would be hard on you. That’s why I came up, too.” Holly looked at him, surprised. He’d never been an intuitive man. “But this is what happens when you put your individual dreams ahead of your family, Holly.”
And there he was. The man she’d grown up with. A good father who loved her but didn’t get her. A person she loved but needed to stay away from. “I know you’ll never understand, but Ben’s the one who did that. It doesn’t excuse what I did, but I wasn’t only motivated by my dreams.”
Holly’s gaze shifted to a little gray bird, teetering along, pausing to peck at the ground, hoping for food.
Her father sat down on a heavy, care-worn sigh. “I know, I know. What I’m trying to say is that you both made your beds and now you have to lie in them. This shouldn’t be unexpected. I’d hoped you’d planned or gotten ready for it.”
He was trying to be helpful in his own way, trying to make her suck it up because there was no other choice. All he could see was his devastated daughter, who should’ve seen the writing on the wall clearly enough to have prepared for this moment.
He couldn’t know that anticipation of this moment had kept her awake countless nights, with an anxiety running so deep she’d had to crawl out of her own skin to escape it.
CHAPTER 14
“What do you feel, Dan?” No matter what he did or how hard he worked, nothing could get rid of the sweet, aching feeling that had washed over him as he’d looked at her.
He cared for her, far too much.
“Someone’s pissed,” Sam observed when he entered the Craftsman. Dan was furiously pulling up the newly installed kitchen floor tiles.
“I decided on hardwood.”
Sam widened his eyes. “It’s just a flip, Dan. Ceramic tile is fine—it’s what most home owners prefer in the kitchen—and this is a great color and size. Why w
ould you do this to your bottom line? It’s not worth it.”
Dan stood up. “Look around.”
Sam looked around.
“Does it all look a little too familiar?”
“I guess you took Holly’s advice after all.” Sam looked at the tile and the cabinets. “Well, mostly.”
“I gutted this house and turned the inside into everything Holly ever dreamed of, from the walls I tore down, to the fixtures, the carpets, and even the colors on the walls. Every little detail except for the kitchen and Ella’s room, and I don’t even know how it happened. Maybe it was that cough syrup she gave me,” he muttered. “Anyway, why are you here? Do you need something?”
Sam studied the kitchen before answering. “I came to pick you up. I’m meeting with the planning commission tomorrow because they need to approve turning the Tudor into condos. The last house on the street is for sale, too, and I want to go see it and draw up some plans for it, even though I can’t buy it right now. I want to show them how Manor Row can be brought back.”
“You think every house on the street should be turned into condos?” Dan was doubtful.
Sam shook his head. “No. Just those two. Manor Row overlooks the river and the bike path. Reviving it will be yet another catalyst to bring back the entire town, I’m sure of it. But we have to start out small and get enough people living there. Right now, renovating a five-thousand-square-foot home here will put someone underwater.”
Dan thought about it before slowly nodding. It made sense. Grabbing his coat, he followed his brother out the door. At the bottom of the steps, they met a woman carrying paint supplies. “Hi.” She stuck her hand out. “I’m the kitchen cabinet painter you hired.”
Dan couldn’t look at Sam. “Hi. Look, I’m going out, but feel free to get started. The kitchen is past the living room and to your right.”
They climbed into Sam’s truck and Sam looked over at him. “Don’t tell me . . . you’re having them painted ivory?”
Dan nodded.
“Did you order the expensive blue and gray granite with the gold veins?”
Dan didn’t answer.
Sam sighed. “Well, hey, it’ll look great. I don’t think you’ll get that part of your investment back, but it’s a highly attractive, unexpected look.”
“I wasn’t going for unexpected.”
“We never are,” Sam said before cranking the engine.
Working with his brothers was pure satisfaction. Ever since they’d been little, as much as they’d agreed or disagreed, as much as they’d argued, everything had always come together when the three of them put their minds to something. Whether it was playing a new song or scaring the wits out of snooty Mrs. Morgan.
“Lunch is on me,” Dan announced after a while.
They were sitting at a table by a window in Marion’s Pizza when they spotted Holly, Ben, and her father across the street. Holly walked behind everyone else, hands in her pockets, eyes downcast.
“Hey, there’s Ben. Ella must be excited,” Johnny said. “Holly didn’t tell me he was coming up. I’ve never seen that other man, though.”
Sam snuck a look at Dan.
“That’s, uh, Holly’s father. You know Ben?” Dan asked.
“Yeah, we’ve hung out.” Johnny turned to look at Dan, too. “But I’ve never met her dad. I’ll probably stop by later to say hello. You okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“He’s not okay. You should see the house. I’m no shrink, but I’m sure it’ll explain a lot,” Sam said, ignoring Dan’s murderous look.
“Laura,” Johnny called their waitress. “We’re taking those calzones to go.”
Dan swore under his breath. There was no way he was keeping Johnny from seeing the house.
The painter was on her way to lunch when they arrived at the Craftsman. “I’ll finish sanding today to remove the sheen, tomorrow I’ll prime, and the painting and sealing should take two to three days after that.”
“Sounds good,” Dan said.
“You’re having brand-new, stained-to-order kitchen cabinets painted?” Johnny looked at him as if cartoon bats were flying over his head.
Dan rubbed the back of his neck. “I changed my mind.”
Sam placed the take-out box on the plywood where the granite would go and began to eat while Johnny took a quick look around the house.
“This is almost Holly’s version of her dream house. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. And I’m tired of talking.”
“Have you told her how you feel?” Johnny pressed.
“If you’re going to do clinical hours on me, leave. I’m not your personal lab rat.”
“What makes you think we give lab rats therapy?” Johnny asked. “And don’t change the subject. Have you told her how you feel?”
“Leave him alone, Johnny.” Sam finished off his calzone.
“No, we left you alone when we knew you were making a mistake, and look where it got you.”
Sam looked stunned. “When the hell did this become about me? Don’t start your psych crap on me, Johnny, or you’ll see yourself out of a job, and out of a way to pay for your doctorate in harassing people.”
Johnny shot up. “I swear I’ll deck the next one of you who starts in on what I want to do—”
“Yeah, that’s real mature and professional of you both.” Dan wiped his hands, and turned back to his calzone when it was whipped out from under him.
“Come on, Danny boy. Tell Johnny how you feel about the pretty lady next door.” Sam held the calzone just out of reach.
Ten minutes later, the three of them were battered and bruised, and cheese, sauce, and beer were splattered and spilled across the floors and on top of the plywood that was supposed to be clean and dry. Johnny started laughing first, holding his stomach. “Man, I needed that.”
Dan laughed, too. “I guess we were overdue. We haven’t had a good fight since right before Dad’s funeral.”
Sam shook his head. “Yeah, the funeral director wasn’t happy. I still can’t believe he ended up choosing the casket for us.”
“I still think we should’ve gone with the Redding Silver,” Dan said. “It was the most practical.”
“No way, Dad would’ve wanted the Burrlesome Blue,” Johnny argued. “Blue was his favorite color.”
“The blue was ridiculous. Too showy. The twenty-gauge non-sealer Charcoal was best. It looked good and it was built to last.” Sam looked at them as if they were crazy.
Tension filled the air once again, until Johnny diffused it by saying, “Well, hey, at least the funeral director didn’t let his wife choose the Lila Soft Pink she wanted. Dad would be haunting us today if we’d let that happen.”
Sam offered Dan a hand, and together they helped Johnny up. They’d always been close, but something had shifted between the three of them over the last few weeks. Their relationship was more grounded. Yet Dan was still holding something back.
“So . . .” He blew out a breath. “Remember the woman Holly, Ella, and I went to see in Toledo? The one who had the missing stained-glass window?” Both Sam and Johnny nodded. Dan looked down. “The woman was my mother.”
Sam’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head and Johnny’s head flew back, hitting the back of a recently painted cabinet a little too hard.
Dan grabbed Johnny’s shoulder and whirled him around, looking at his hair. Sure enough, it had paint on it. Johnny put his hand on his head. “Tell us about it. I knew something was up.”
“There’s not much to tell. She’s married. She looked fit and healthy. I asked her two questions and left.”
His brothers waited. With effort, Dan moved to lean his back on the counter, his neck and arms stiff. “I don’t have any other brothers or sisters. And she left because she knew I wanted a dog, went to find one, and realized she couldn’t take care of a dog, let alone a boy.”
“And you wanted a dog because you didn’t feel like Cooper was yours.” Sam kicked
a cabinet.
“I wanted a dog because Cooper looked like a little girl’s dog.” Sam tossed him a reluctant grin. Johnny was too quiet. Dan didn’t want to know what he was thinking. “And I’m trying to tell you guys something that happened. I don’t want to rehash the past.”
Sam shrugged. “Hey, I’m not into this talking crap any more than you. I wasn’t thinking, is all.”
“I know, I know.” Dan allowed his shoulders to relax. His brothers remained quiet, each of them thinking. Slowly, a part of him that he hadn’t noticed was all wound up began to uncoil.
After a while, he looked up with a half smile. “I was expecting the puppy-psychology bit from Johnny, though. Not you, Sam. I thought you’d just grunt and then go listen to a song that expresses everything you can’t, over and over and over again.”
Sam glowered and Johnny laughed. “He has been surprisingly quiet,” Sam said, gesturing with his head toward Johnny. “It’s nice. I could get used to it.”
“I’ve been thinking.” Johnny looked at Dan.
“Uh-oh. That’s never good.” Dan got up.
“Why’d you buy this house?”
Well, he’d told them everything else. He grabbed a cloth, tried to clean the plywood, and spoke without looking at them. “Dad used to visit me here. He was grateful to the lady who took care of me, promised her he’d fix the house up for her, but he never got around to it. Her kids rented it out after she died, and then it got repossessed. Dad asked me to fix it up if I ever got the chance.”
Sam and Johnny grabbed a few paper towels and helped him clean up the mess. No one said anything, but Sam’s shoulders were slumped and Johnny wore a rare frown. He should’ve told them sooner. Probably years ago.
“You can’t just give Holly a house, you know,” Johnny said after a while.
“I know. She and I’ll have to figure something out, that’s all.” They were leaving just as the painter came back. Dan stopped short, struck by an idea. A big idea. One that would speak for him and say everything he knew he could never say to Holly. “I saw some of the murals you painted in your portfolio. Will you quote me on another project?”