As soon as Sox barked, Lucas came running into the room.
Meghan squatted to give him a hug. “How’s my little man?”
“Aunt Meyan!” he exclaimed as he wrapped his chubby arms around her neck. “Me play wif Sox, ohay?”
“Yes, it’s okay,” Meghan said and laughed.
“Meyan” was how Lucas pronounced her name. Although he’d been born deaf, a cochlear implant enabled him to hear, and he was now learning to talk. Despite the speech class twice a week and ongoing therapy, his speaking age had not yet caught up to his actual age. That would take another year, possibly two. He still had problems with certain sounds and tenses. In time he’d move past that, but for the moment he was doing great. He was able to name colors, connect words, and ask an endless amount of questions. When he started asking why this and why that, it was hard to believe the only sounds he heard came through a cochlear implant.
Lila smiled. “Lucas has been helping me make cookies.”
“I can see that.” Meghan ruffled his hair, gave him a peck on the cheek, and brushed a smudge of cookie dough from his chin; then she stood and turned to her mama.
“Where’s Tracy?”
Lila slid the tray of cookies into the oven. “Back in the office.”
“I’ll go say hello,” Meghan replied and started down the hall.
It was exactly seventeen steps from the kitchen to the sewing room that over a decade ago had become the Snip ’n Save office. Meghan knew it all too well. The worn spot in the hallway carpet marked a pathway she’d walked for almost three years. Now she’d turned over most of the responsibilities to Tracy. Most, but not all.
She couldn’t bring herself to let go completely. When it came to the Snip ’n Save, Meghan was like a kid hanging tight to a balloon, fearful that loosening her grip would allow it to float away and be lost forever. She was determined not to let that happen.
Poking her head in the door, Meghan asked, “Am I interrupting anything?”
Tracy looked up from the computer and smiled. “Of course not. Come on in.”
“Sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but there are a few Snip ’n Save things I wanted to touch base on. I noticed a lot of the billing for this month hasn’t gone out yet, and the Memorial Day layout—”
“Yeah, I know, I’m a bit behind.”
The old familiar worry about Dominic picked at Meghan’s mind. “Any particular reason?”
Tracy gave a sheepish nod. “I planned to catch up on the billing yesterday, but Lucas and I spent the day in Barrington, so I never got around to it.”
The mention of Barrington brought a smile to Meghan’s face. “Barrington, huh? You see Gabriel Hawke?” From the start, Meghan had suspected Gabriel would be a perfect match for her sister.
“No. We weren’t at the school. Lucas had a playdate with Chloe’s son. We took the kids to the park, then lunch at McDonald’s.”
Meghan’s smile dissolved into a look of disappointment. “You could have at least stopped by his office to say hi.”
Turning back to the computer with an impatient huff, Tracy said, “Don’t start. I’ve already told you I’m not ready.”
“I’m not starting anything. Gabriel’s a great guy. All I’m saying—”
“I know what you’re saying, but you can forget it. Gabriel’s a friend. That’s it.”
“Seems to me that if you were open to the thought, he could be more than a friend,” Meghan blurted out. “Lucas is really crazy about him and—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Tracy said, keeping her eyes locked on the screen.
“Why do you refuse to see the obvious? Is it because you’re still hung up on Dominic?”
“I’m not going to waste my time talking about such nonsense,” Tracy snapped.
Meghan was reluctant to mention the possibility that Dominic might be back in town, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Is it really nonsense, or have you heard from Dominic recently?”
Tracy looked at her with an angry glare. “No, I haven’t. He hasn’t called, and I certainly have no intention of calling him.” There was a momentary pause, then she added, “Anyway, what I do or don’t do is none of your business!”
Almost a full minute of silence passed before Meghan responded.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to pry into your business, but I love you, and I really want you to be—”
“Don’t worry, I’m fine. Right now, Lucas is the only man I want in my life, so stop asking about anyone else.”
Meghan started to leave, then turned back. “Okay, but if anything changes or you need someone to talk to, call me.”
“I will,” Tracy replied without looking up.
6
Tracy Briggs
Meghan means well and is trying to be helpful, but sometimes I wish she wouldn’t. I know she loves me, but she makes me feel like she’s always right and I’m always wrong. Granted, it may be true, but it’s no fun coming to grips with that truth.
Sure, I make mistakes; everybody does. The only difference is that the ones I make are monumental. It’s easy to look back and say I should have known Dominic was never going to marry me, but I was eighteen and crazy in love.
Love makes people act stupid. Even if you start out smart and think you’ve got the world by the tail, you still never know where you’re going to end up.
It may have been stupid for me to move to Philadelphia with Dominic, but I can’t find one ounce of regret in my heart for it. Even knowing what I know now, I’d do it all over again. Why? Because of Lucas. Having him brings me more joy than I ever dreamed possible. Sometimes when I’m working, he’ll come waddling back to the office just to give me a hug. Not even having a hunky movie star in love with you is as good as that.
The one thing I do regret is that Lucas doesn’t have a daddy to love him. I try to make up for it by loving him twice as much, but that’s about all I can do.
I realize Meghan’s got a point. Gabriel is a good man, the kind of man who’d make a great daddy for Lucas, except right now, my heart isn’t ready. Dominic and I are through. I’ve accepted that. But I’m still falling out of love with him.
Falling out of love is a lot harder than falling in love. When you fall in love, everything is beautiful—flowers bloom, music plays, and every star in the sky is winking at you. But falling out of love is like finding yourself in a pitch-black tunnel. At first you think in time you’ll get through it, and then you realize how terribly long the tunnel is. I’m starting to see pinpricks of light ahead, so I might be coming to the end, but I’m not there yet.
Gabriel’s a good man, no doubt about it. That’s why I’ve got to wait until I’m at the end of this tunnel and standing in the light of day before I let myself even think about falling in love. Gabriel deserves a woman who can love him with her whole heart, not someone who’s just looking to give her boy a daddy.
7
The DeLuca Farm
The night Dominic arrived back in Magnolia Grove, he visited some of his old haunts and had more than a few drinks. It was well after midnight when he turned onto the dirt road leading to the DeLuca farm. It had been over three years since he was last here, but even in the dark of night he could see nothing had changed. In the distance there was the familiar screeching of birds down by the pond, most likely fighting over a fish, he thought, as he moved past the barren peanut fields. The old Buick bumped through ruts that had been there since before he was born, then came to a stop in a clearing beside the house.
The porch light was on; she was expecting him. She’d probably been waiting up for him ever since their phone call.
He climbed from the car, hefted the large plastic bag onto his shoulder, and started for the house. The door was unlocked, just as he knew it would be. She never locked it. Why bother when there was almost nothing worth stealing? An old, boxy television or a thin, worn wedding band wouldn’t bring enough to pay for the gas it took to drive out here.
He
still hated this place, hated it just as much as he had all the years he’d lived here. The only reason he’d come back was because she’d asked him to—not just asked but begged. She was the one good thing he’d had in his life. The only one.
He pushed open the door and called out, “Grandma, I’m home.”
Alice was sitting in the oversize club chair with her head dropped onto her shoulder. She’d been dozing, but the sound of his voice woke her. She pulled herself to her feet and hurried over as fast as she was able. Reaching up, she stretched her arms around his neck and gave him an affectionate hug.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you.” She traced her fingers along his cheek and smiled.
“I’ve missed you, too.” He meant it, even though years had gone by and he’d seldom picked up the phone to call her.
She seemed smaller than he remembered, more bony, and birdlike. Her hair was snow white now, thin and sparse as a baby’s. He hated seeing her this way and for a moment regretted coming home.
It would have been better to remember her as she once was.
“There’s beef stew on the stove,” she said. “I’ll heat it up while you bring in the rest of your things.”
“I don’t have a whole lot,” Dominic replied. “This is it.”
She eyed the plastic bag with a furrowed brow.
Alice noticed that when Dominic sat at the table, he chose the same chair he’d sat in all those many years.
“Sit in Granddaddy’s chair,” she said. “It’s got a cushion.”
Even though Joe had been gone twenty years, the big chair was still called “Granddaddy’s chair.”
“No, thanks.” Dominic stayed where he was, in the straight-backed chair with a woven rush seat. Alice knew he wanted nothing of his granddaddy’s. He’d disliked the man almost as much as he disliked his mama, claiming they were two of a kind—self-centered people who snapped up the best of everything for themselves.
She scooped an ample helping of stew into the bowl and set it in front of him, along with a basket of bread and a crock of butter. “Would you like some milk?”
Dominic shook his head. “No, but I could go for a beer.”
“You know I don’t believe in—”
Dominic heaved a sigh. “I know, Grandma, I know.”
Alice DeLuca was a bona fide Bible-thumping teetotaler and member of the Light of the World Congressional Church. After sitting in the third pew and listening to Brother Browne’s fiery sermons for more than fifty years, she’d come to the conclusion that demon rum was to blame for most of life’s problems, including Dorothy’s total lack of responsibility.
For as long as anyone could remember, she’d made no secret of her disdain for drunkards. The night Joe died she’d gathered up his stash of whiskey, opened the bottles, and poured every last drop down the drain. She’d hoped it would keep Dominic from straying onto the same pathway of destruction.
Unfortunately, it hadn’t. Once he was old enough to walk into a liquor store and plunk down the price of a bottle, he’d come home wearing the stink of alcohol. Then, to make matters worse, he’d gone to work in a bar.
Now here he was, barely one foot in the door and already wanting a beer.
Several moments of silence passed, but with the issue at hand weighing heavily on her mind, she decided to go ahead and broach the subject.
“I hope you’re planning to see Tracy Briggs while you’re here.”
He lowered the spoon and glared at her. “I’m not.”
“You should. It’s the right thing to do.”
He pushed the bowl of stew back as if it had suddenly grown cold. “And why, exactly, is it the right thing to do?”
“Because of your son.”
Dominic bolted out of his chair and began to pace the far end of the kitchen.
Without turning to face her, he ranted, “What makes you think Tracy’s kid is mine? Did she tell you that? Because if so, she’s a liar!”
“You know I’ve never met the girl,” Alice said. “You never brought her home, and it wasn’t until after you moved to Philadelphia that I learned the two of you were serious.”
“So Tracy went to Philadelphia with me. That doesn’t mean—”
Cutting him off, she said, “Dominic, please. When the Briggs girl returned to Magnolia Grove, it was just her and the boy; and he’s the right age . . .” Alice let the remainder of her thought drift off, and she gave a disheartened sigh. “This town may be a lot bigger than it was when you lived here, but it’s still a small town, and rumors get around.”
Dominic threw up his hands and gave a sardonic laugh. “A rumor? You think I’m the daddy of her kid because of some bullshit rumor?”
Fingering the narrow gold band she still wore on her left hand, she shook her head slowly. “I don’t think it’s just a rumor, Dominic. The boy was pointed out to me at the market. He was with his mama.”
Dominic’s face went slack for a moment, then his mouth curled into a snarl. “Why should I have to prove myself to you, Grandma? I’m your own flesh and blood. Can’t you just take my word instead of jumping to conclusions because you saw a kid who you think looks like me?”
Her face grew pale and her eyes moist. “I remember how it was with your mama, Dominic, and I don’t want you to hurt that boy the way she hurt you.”
“Mama didn’t hurt me,” he snapped. “You think I gave a rat’s ass when she took off and left me here? Well, I didn’t! ‘Good riddance’—that’s what I was thinking when I watched her drive off!”
Alice remembered it differently. She remembered the way he’d sat on the front step for days, looking down that long dirt road as if he’d expected to see her car coming along any minute. Perhaps if she reminded him of that . . .
The thought lingered for several moments, then she pushed it aside and said, “After all that driving, you must be tired. I’ve freshened your old room, so it’s waiting for you whenever you’re ready to turn in.”
With no further mention of his mama or the boy, Dominic kissed his grandma’s cheek and turned toward the stairs.
“Good night,” he called down from the landing.
8
Dominic DeLuca
I ask for one lousy beer, and Grandma goes off on me. Obviously it wasn’t just the beer; she was fired up about Tracy and the kid. She claims she saw the kid and that’s how she knew, but I doubt it’s true.
I never told Grandma about Tracy or the kid because I knew she’d start pushing me to get married and do the right thing. Right thing, ha! After the way Tracy treated me, I don’t owe her or the kid anything.
My bet is Tracy’s been here. She probably laid it on thick about how Lucas needs a daddy and she needs support money. As far as I’m concerned, she can just whistle up a tree for it. You can’t get blood from a stone, and right now I’m worse off than a stone. I don’t have any money, and I sure as hell don’t have a way to get any. You think if I had money I’d be driving around in that shitpot car? No, sir. I’d buy me a nice convertible and ride through town with the top down.
What I should do is tell Grandma this isn’t all on me. I should explain I already offered Tracy the chance to come home to Philadelphia with me. Shit, I even said I’d marry her and take the kid, but she damn near spit in my eye. Then while I was trying to reason with her, Meghan’s crazy-ass boyfriend came from out of nowhere and decked me.
I can tell you right now, there’s no way in hell I’m opening myself up to another round like that. If Tracy wants me, she’s gonna have to come crawling on her hands and knees; then maybe I’ll take her back. But it’s no guarantee.
As far as I’m concerned, the thought of us getting back together is a dead issue. We’re over and done with. Tracy wants no part of me, and I sure as hell won’t be held responsible for a kid I haven’t seen in over three years.
I’d like to believe Grandma will take my word on this and leave it be. Knowing how she is, though, I’m guessing she’ll have something more to say. But I’ll wait
and see. If she brings it up again, I’ll just go along with her and pretend I’m thinking it over. Given the condition Grandma’s in, she doesn’t need more aggravation; she got enough from Mama and Granddaddy to last a lifetime.
9
A Question of Time
The rooster crowed just before the break of dawn, but Alice was already awake. She hadn’t slept well and was lying there waiting to hear him squawk. She climbed out of bed, eased her feet into a pair of worn slippers, and pulled on the bathrobe lying on the chair.
Stepping softly so she wouldn’t wake Dominic, she hurried downstairs and stoked the fire in the furnace, then added a few scoops of coal. The chill would be gone from the house by the time the sun crested the horizon, and before noon she could slide the windows open to let the spring breeze freshen the house. Only in the predawn mornings was there a damp frigidness that settled in her bones. As she sat at the kitchen table with a cup of watered-down coffee, she tried to remember if it had always been this way or just this past year.
Last year she’d tamped down the furnace the week after Easter, sometime in April. Now here it was May, and she was still getting the shivers.
It’s because I’ve lost all this weight.
Her hand trembled as she lifted the cup to her mouth. Dr. Willoughby had warned this would happen.
“You’ll grow weaker and need someone to care for you,” he’d said.
At first she’d been reluctant to believe such a thing could happen. She’d always been a strong woman, someone who could chop firewood or wring a chicken’s neck without getting squeamish. But it had crept up on her. A bit of nausea in the morning, a loss of appetite, the dizziness of having risen too rapidly, then the dreaded weakness that forced her to sit and rest after each small chore.
Now she wondered how long she had left. Six months, if she was lucky. Six months was such a small amount of time, especially if one wanted to correct the mistakes of a lifetime. She thought of Dorothy, and a heartsick longing for her missing daughter made her eyes grow moist. She wondered for the thousandth time if there was something more she could have done, something that would have kept Dorothy in Magnolia Grove with a family who loved her and would see to her needs.
A Year of Extraordinary Moments (A Magnolia Grove Novel) Page 3