Home to Chicory Lane (9781426796074)

by Raney, Deborah;

  “And what will that accomplish?”

  “Well, for one thing it will help you talk to him without this . . . this fury I’ve seen in you every time you mention his name.”

  “I am furious. Who wouldn’t be?”

  “You have to put that aside if you’re going to have a civil conversation with him.”

  She closed her eyes and blew out a breath. “I don’t know if I’m up for this.”

  “Pray about it, Landyn. Please. That’s all I’m ask—”

  “Mo-ommy!” Sadie came running up the porch steps just as Mom opened the back door. “She’s doing it again!”

  “There you girls are,” her mom said. “I wondered what happened to you.”

  Sadie grabbed her grandma’s hand. “Gram, Sari won’t let me have Simone to be my baby.”

  “Two moms, only one baby,” Corinne explained.

  “Isn’t there a story like that in the Bible?” Landyn teased. “A sword was involved, as I recall.”

  Corinne and Mom gave her the stink eye in unison.

  “Don’t you even bring that up,” her sister said. “Solomon I’m not.”

  “Well, I’m not Solomon either, but I have an easy solution for the two-moms-one-baby problem,” said her mother.

  “What? Make Huckleberry be one of the babies?”

  “Better than that.”

  “What’s a solution, Gram?” Sadie’s eyes sparkled.

  “Come with me. You too, Sari. I’ll show you.” Her mother winked over the little girls’ heads and Landyn knew she was heading up to the attic—or what had been an attic before the remodel—for the ragtag collection of dolls the Whitman girls had loved before they’d all outgrown them.

  “I’m surprised Mom hasn’t just given you those dolls—for the girls.”

  Corinne shook her head. “If the dolls were at our house they wouldn’t hold half the magic they do when they’re at Gram’s house. Besides, that wouldn’t be fair to you and Danae. You might have girls too someday.”

  Where did this storehouse of knowledge come from? Landyn sighed. Would she just automatically know these things after her baby was born? Somehow she doubted it. Mom and Corinne were both oldest sisters. Maybe that was where they got their knack with children. But Danae had it too. She just hadn’t had a chance to use it yet.

  Landyn had never even babysat as a teenager. She’d played with dolls when she was little, but usually her dolls were passengers in the plane she was flying or they were customers at the restaurant where she was chef. Sure, she wanted kids. Chase did too. It was something she dreamed about sometimes, but they’d both agreed it was way down the list for them. Like five years down the list.

  Now it was more like five months down the list. Panic swelled, constricting her breath.

  “Are you okay, Landyn?”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat and slipped her shoes back on. “I’m fine. I’d better go in now. I need to—”

  She drew a blank. Who was she fooling anyway? She didn’t have one thing to do, one responsibility. She’d run some errands for Mom and spent one morning at Corinne’s watching the girls while her sister baked for a funeral dinner. She’d loved every minute with her sweet nieces, but it wasn’t like her family couldn’t get along without her.

  The reality was, she’d become a charity case to them. And she couldn’t live another day in this limbo, not knowing what her life would look like a month from now. Or five months from now.

  Something had to change.

  9

  Audrey ripped sheets off the beds as if her vendetta was against the linens rather than the people who’d slept on them. She ought to be grateful for a long weekend when they’d filled up every available room. And she would be if this group hadn’t been such a royal pain in the derriere.

  A dozen teenage girls—scholarship pageant contestants—had descended on the inn, sleeping three and four to a room—and with only one set of adult sponsors who apparently went off duty six hours before the girls finally quieted down.

  The perfume-saturated entourage had all but trashed the place, tracking November’s mud in from the backyard, and leaving dirty dishes—the ones they didn’t break—in virtually every room of the inn. She wouldn’t be surprised if something valuable turned up missing when she finally got the place put back together enough to take inventory. As it was they were going to have to replace half a dozen towels that had been stained with enough makeup to paint Mount Rushmore.

  The pageant had done a photo shoot on the kids’ climbing tree down by the creek and it had been all Audrey could do not to traipse down there and supervise herself. If they’d damaged the ancient tree, she would have seen that heads rolled.

  At least the chaperones had paid the bill in full—but not before talking Grant into giving them a hefty discount since half of the girls skipped breakfast. Never mind that Audrey had cooked for all of them, and she’d seen at least three of them grab muffins for the road on their way out the door.

  Good riddance. She’d be drafting a new policy about ratio of chaperones to teenage guests. But at least the group had paid, which was more than she could say for their last guests, whose check had bounced both times she tried to deposit it. She hated to change the inn’s policy of taking personal checks, but neither could she afford to be scammed.

  Especially not while their youngest daughter was depriving them of the income of one guest room. Audrey wished she didn’t have to be so miserly, but they did have bills to pay. And she didn’t think Landyn had a clue how much it was costing them to lose that room’s income.

  She chided herself the minute the thought left her thick head. She and Grant had talked about this before they’d ever signed on the dotted line. They never wanted their kids to feel like they played second-fiddle to the inn. Of course, when they’d signed on the dotted line, they hadn’t known the bottom line would be so thin. Or that one of the kids would move back home.

  Blowing her bangs out of her eyes, she gathered enough towels for an army from the bathrooms and lugged the laundry to the hallway. She slid open pocket doors, revealing the washer and dryer hidden there. The mountain of linens was daunting, but she was grateful not to be hauling them up and down two flights of stairs.

  “Hey, Mom.” Landyn poked her tousled head out of the room that had been hers as a teen. She looked up and down the hallway, then spoke in a stage whisper. “Are they gone?”

  “Yes. But they left plenty for us to remember them by.” She poured liquid detergent into the receptacle and started the washing machine. “Did you get any sleep?”

  Landyn made a face. “Are you serious? It sounded like we were hosting the World Series up here. I swear that one girl had a laugh that could grate cheese.”

  Audrey laughed. “Listen, I’ll do the downstairs rooms, but would you mind making up the beds on this floor?”

  “Oh.” She made a face that said, I suppose, if I must. But she nodded. “Okay . . . sure. What time is it?”

  “Almost noon.”

  “Okay. I’m going back to bed for a while. Could you tell Dad to keep the noise down?”

  Audrey bit her lip and measured her words. “We have guests checking in before dinner, and Dad has to get the lawn mowed before they show up.”

  Landyn huffed and rolled her eyes.

  “How did you ever sleep in New York?” It came out sounding testier than she’d intended.

  “It’s supposed to be noisy in New York.”

  “Well, guess what, sweetie? It’s supposed to be noisy at a bed-and-breakfast, too. Especially when it’s lunchtime.”

  “Whatever.” Landyn disappeared behind her door.

  “Don’t forget about the laundr—”

  The slam of the door clipped short her reminder.

  Speechless, Audrey wanted to march in after her, grab her “baby” by the shoulders and shake some sense into her pretty, curly head. Landyn had always been a bit of a drama queen, and, truth be told, she and Grant had indulged her.
They had to shoulder some of the blame. But it was time for Landyn to grow up.

  Audrey reminded herself that there were hormones at play here, too. And exhaustion—both physical and emotional. She’d give her daughter the benefit of the doubt. This one time. But she was not going to put up with this indefinitely.

  Two hours later when Audrey finally had the downstairs rooms ready for guests, she went up to check on the upstairs. She heard the roar of the riding mower in the side yard and loud music coming from Landyn’s room. And she thought those teen-agers were noisy?

  Audrey peeked into the room across from Landyn’s. The beds were exactly as she’d left them, stripped clean. She went to check the dryer. Empty.

  Fuming, she opened the lid to the washing machine and stuffed the wet linens into the dryer, then slammed the lid to the washer.

  She went down the hall and knocked on her daughter’s door. “Landyn? I’ve got people arriving in two hours and the bedding didn’t even get put in the dryer.” She pushed open the door.

  Landyn growled and pulled the blanket over her head. “You never said they needed to go in the dryer.”

  “Well, they weren’t going to jump in there by themselves.”

  “Mother. I thought you’d already put them in. I didn’t know that was part of the job.” She spoke in that long-suffering, patronizing tone that had always made Audrey want to spit nails when Landyn was a teenager. It hadn’t improved now that her daughter was a married woman.

  She looked at her watch. “Well, if they had already been in the dryer, they would be wrinkled beyond repair by now.”

  “Sorry.” Landyn’s voice was dull and held no remorse. She threw off the covers and eased her slender legs over the side of the bed. The long T-shirt she’d slept in clung to her thin frame, but her tummy definitely had a new roundness to it. And it struck Audrey that if she hadn’t figured out before that Landyn was pregnant, she would have begun to suspect now.

  Her baby, pregnant. And she was afraid it was not under the best of circumstances. Please, Lord, help them work things out.

  “The bedding is in the dryer,” said Audrey.

  “I’m getting in the shower.”

  “Well, please don’t be long.”

  “The clothes have to dry don’t they?”

  That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Audrey snapped, willing her voice not to quiver the way it usually did when she was angry. “Landyn, for three weeks now, Dad and I have not asked you for much of anything. We’ve given you three meals a day, and a room that we could otherwise be renting out.” She knew, even as she ranted, that she was probably going to regret her words later, but right now it felt like they needed to be said. “We’ve put gas in your car, and we’ve handed over cash when you needed it. I don’t think it’s too much to ask to—”

  “You’re going to bring up that loan now? I said I’d pay you back. Good grief, Mom, it was fifty dollars. I never would have asked to borrow such a huge sum of money if I’d known you were going to hold it over my head the rest of my life.”

  Audrey took a deep breath. “All I’m asking for is a little help. I need these rooms ready no later than four o’clock and I need to know you’re not going to forget again.”

  “I didn’t forget the first time. And no offense, but it is driving me stark raving nuts to be treated like a child.”

  “Then maybe you should quit acting like one.” She turned on her heel and left.

  * * *

  Landyn turned the water as hot as she could stand it and stood under the spray, fuming. Hot tears mingled with the flow from the shower head, then swirled down the drain.

  It had been a mistake to come home. Not that she’d had any other options, but it was obvious Mom had changed. It seemed she had more important priorities in her life than her children now. And Dad would only back Mom up—the way he always had. Right or wrong.

  She needed to get out of here. She needed to talk to Chase. But despite what her sisters believed, she could not tell him she was pregnant. If he agreed to reconcile only out of a sense of duty—or worse, because he felt trapped—their marriage would fall apart anyway. No, if he was willing to work things out, it had to be because he truly wanted to be with her. And because he was genuinely sorry for wrecking their lives.

  The thought made her bow her head under the pulsing spray. She felt like a hypocrite hiding her condition from her husband after raking him over the coals for making such a life-changing decision without consulting her. But it wasn’t like she’d gotten pregnant on purpose. She ran her hand over the small bump in her abdomen. She was carrying a part of Chase inside her. Something they had made together. Something precious.

  She turned off the shower and squeezed the water from her hair. Grabbing blindly for the towel, she suddenly knew what she had to do. She would leave tomorrow. She dressed and dried her hair, then stuffed a few clothes in her suitcase so she wouldn’t chicken out and change her mind. The thought of making that drive again was almost more than she could stomach, but then, the thought of staying here—where she was nothing but a burden—was worse.

  She’d have to use their credit card. And for the baby’s sake, she would not drive straight through this time. However, she had to see Chase and find out if they had anything worth saving.

  She wouldn’t tell Mom and Dad until morning. They’d only try to change her mind. And her mind was made up.

  10

  The first chill of winter gusted down Brooklyn’s alleyways. Chase pulled his jacket up around his neck. The apartment would be freezing, but turning up the thermostat never seemed to raise the temperature as much as it did the utility bill.

  Despite a few good shows where he’d sold some of his larger works, he didn’t have money to burn on heating bills. The small balance in their savings account was growing. Not as fast as he would have liked, but at least he wasn’t going backwards any longer.

  And he’d made strides in paying down their credit card. But he hadn’t paid it off like he’d hoped. Their finances were precarious.

  Their. Such a loaded word. He tried to think in terms of Landyn coming back. As if they had a future together. He didn’t know if it was true, and every day he didn’t hear from her, every day she ignored his phone calls and texts, the yeast of doubt fermented. But he was determined to stay the course.

  He had a feeling all it would take was three words to turn his wife’s heart back to him. I. Was. Wrong. But for him to speak those words, let alone set them to paper, would be a lie. And he refused to win Landyn back with a lie. Because if he did, eventually he’d have to get back to the truth.

  Truth. He wasn’t sure what that was anymore. But he did know the only thing that would make Landyn happy right now was a lie.

  He stopped off at the corner grocery and paid twice what he would have at the A&P for a salami and some cheese. And a two-liter of Coke. You’d think he would have lost a few pounds without Landyn’s cooking to tempt him. But he was eating junk and though Landyn had taken the bathroom scales, he was pretty sure he was up at least five or six pounds.

  He exhaled a breath that froze on the air in front of him. He wasn’t going to lose sleep over five pounds. A man could choose worse vices than salami and cheese. And M&Ms. The luxuries helped him endure the long, lonely nights.

  He wasn’t a perfect man. Not by a long shot. But he’d heard God on this. Of that he was certain. Not an audible voice, but in that strange, holy vocabulary that spoke as clearly to his heart as the English language spoke to his mind.

  It seemed a strange thing for God to talk to a man about. Take this apartment and let the other one go. Do it today.

  But he had heard the “order.” He couldn’t deny it, much as Landyn had made him question what he’d heard. Now, he only hoped he didn’t lose his wife while trying to obey his God.

  * * *

  “The beds are all made up, Mom.”

  Audrey peered past Landyn into the room their guests had vacated this morning. A
fter their spat over the laundry yesterday, this was a refreshing change. “Thank you.”

  Landyn shrugged. “I’m not sure the pillows are the way you like them. I think they look okay, but I know you’re picky about that.”

  “I’m sure they’re fine. Thanks, honey.”

  Landyn disappeared into her room but emerged again, pulling a large suitcase behind her. Her backpack was slung over her shoulder.

  Audrey stopped short. “Where are you going?”

  “I’ve got to see Chase, Mom. I have to talk to him.”

  “You’re not driving to New York?”

  “Well, I’m not walking.” Her daughter’s giggle sounded more like a sob.

  “Honey . . . Wait. Let’s talk about this. Does he know you’re coming?”

  “No. I’ll call him when I get close. I don’t want to give him a chance to tell me not to come.”

  “Landyn, please . . . Why don’t you book a flight? I doubt it would cost any more than the gas and hotels you’ll pay for. Just . . . At least wait until Dad gets home.”

  “Where is he? I wanted to tell him good-bye, but he wasn’t in his office, or out in the shop.”

  “Were you going to tell me good-bye?” She tried to keep her tone light, but she was afraid the wrong answer would bring tears.

  “Of course I was. I just—” She set the suitcase by the door in the foyer. “I didn’t want to give you a chance to talk me out of going.”

  “Exactly like I’m doing, huh?”

  “Exactly.” For some reason, the smile her daughter gave her broke her heart. Maybe because it made her look fourteen again.

  “Sweetheart, you have a baby to think about. You don’t want to be on the road alone. What if your car breaks down? Or you get sick?”

  “Dad worked on my car a little. It’ll be fine. And I promise I’ll call if anything goes wrong.”

  “That’s not the point, Landyn. Dad and I can’t just drop everything and come and get you if you get in trouble.”