The Comeback Girl

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The Comeback Girl Page 10

by Debra Salonen


  Zach stopped. He didn’t turn around, but Donnie heard his question clearly, “What is it?”

  “Brain chaos. You have so many things happening at once, your brain can’t process them, and you react in ways you would never choose if you could think clearly.”

  Zach didn’t say anything more, passing by his mother without a word.

  Donnie thought he saw her smile, but she turned away to follow her son down the hall. Donnie closed the door behind him. No answer to his proposal, but that was just as well. He doubted her answer would have been the one he wanted to hear.

  KRIS WASN’T SURE how to talk to Zach about his day. She stopped to wait for him, knowing he’d come through the kitchen after retrieving Sarge from the backyard. Zach took his responsibility seriously.

  “Did he miss you?” she asked when the two came in.

  “How could he? He didn’t know about me.”

  She flinched. “I meant Sarge, not Tyler.”

  Zach took a soft drink from the refrigerator and opened it without checking with her, then walked into the living room where Kris was standing and plopped down sideways on the recliner; Sarge followed.

  “Can you tell me about it? What’s he like?”

  He shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Doesn’t talk a lot. He looked sorta sick some of the time and had to take a bunch of pills. He told me about his business and a little about his life, but mostly we just sat there.”

  Kristin was glad Tyler hadn’t given Zach the fifth degree about his childhood.

  “His mother had a lot to say, though. She hardly ever shut up.” Kris bit down on a smile. “She had stacks of photo albums and told me all about her life and how she married my…uh, grandfather. She had lots to say about his family.”

  “You could ask Ida Jane if you want a second version of all that.” They looked at each other, and the tender look in his eyes made her smile. He likes Ida Jane. “If you catch her on a good day.”

  “Is she senile? That what Mrs. Hughes said.”

  Mrs. Hughes, not Grandma. “On her good days she’s sharper than some people half her age. I wouldn’t call her senile.”

  He took another drink then asked, “What does my birth certificate say?”

  “About your father?”

  He nodded.

  Kristin’s heart fluttered oddly. “It names Tyler Harrison as your father. Address unknown.”

  He stroked Sarge’s ear. “So you didn’t lie about me. You just didn’t tell anyone. His mother called you a liar.”

  The tightness across her chest eased a tiny bit. “My family in Ireland knew the truth. They were with me when you were born. For a while I considered staying there, but I missed America too much.

  “When Moira and Kathleen moved to Wisconsin, I went along. I wanted you to have the same kinds of experiences I’d had growing up. And I wanted to be closer to my family, in case Ida…” She blinked away her tears. For years she’d been able to block these feelings, telling herself she was better off alone so Zach wouldn’t be judged for her mistakes.

  “How come you never brought me here before? Were you ashamed of me?”

  A pain stabbed below her ribs. “You know that wasn’t the reason, Zach. I was ashamed of myself, of my deception. There were so many times I picked up the phone to call home to brag about you—like when you won the spelling bee in third grade. I knew you were a genius.” That brought a slight smile, but it faded when she added, “When I realized I couldn’t tell anyone, I cried for hours.”

  Zach didn’t look particularly sympathetic. She didn’t blame him, and she doubted she could ever make him—or anyone—understand how slowly and insidiously the lie had taken over her life. “Have you ever seen a cartoon where some guy paints himself into a corner and can’t move?”

  His nod may have been a yes or a shrug. “That was me. The dufus in the corner. I didn’t know I was going to have a baby when I left for Ireland.

  “When I found out you were on the way—” she smiled at him “—I wanted to call home. But Ida Jane was on a buying trip to the midwest; Andi was working at a pack station in Toulumne where there wasn’t a phone, and Jenny and Josh were hiking the Pacific Crest Trail.”

  She’d been entirely alone for the first time in her life.

  “I know it probably sounds foolish, but when you’re eighteen you don’t have a very clear view of the big picture. At the time, I saw this as my chance to prove to the world that I wasn’t a flake. I was determined to take care of myself and my baby without any help from my family and the town of Gold Creek.”

  He didn’t say anything, so she went on. “My aunt and uncle helped, of course, but I worked harder than I’d ever worked in my life while I lived in Ireland. I cooked and cleaned and cared for Uncle Sean’s mother. I remember being so tired at night I didn’t even have the strength to be sad.”

  Kris pictured one damp and chilly night when she was so exhausted she thought she might pass out. As she’d crawled into bed beside Moira—in a room they shared with four cousins, ages ten to twenty—Kristin had been ready to give up and go home, but then a fluttering sensation moved beneath her belly.

  She’d felt a sudden, palpable spurt of selfishness and she’d known she wasn’t ready to share her baby with her family, her town and certainly not the mean-spirited witch who wrote the gossip column. And, beneath it all, was a reluctance to tell Donnie. Because that would mean facing the fact that her silly, romantic dreams were gone for good.

  “After you were born, it was surprisingly easy to keep you a secret. I just didn’t communicate much with Ida and my sisters. I had my cousins and I made new friends. I accepted the estrangement from Jenny and Andi as part of my punishment for lying, but it turned out you were the one being punished for my mistakes. I wouldn’t blame you if you never spoke to me again.”

  He sighed heavily and got up. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Do you…did you…does Tyler want to see you tomorrow? It’s Sunday. I told Andi I’d help out at the store, but…”

  “He’s going to call in the morning. I have to work on my writing assignment part of the day.”

  “Okay. G’night,” she called as dog and boy trudged down the hallway. Kristin didn’t move for a good ten minutes. She had to force herself to go to bed, but once there, she turned on the television and sank under the covers, letting the blue-gray light fill the darkness. She put the volume on mute and set the timer, in case she actually fell asleep.

  She was still awake when it snapped off four hours later. A guilty conscience made for a lousy bed partner.

  DONNIE SURPRISED HIMSELF by waking up early enough the next morning to attend the first service at the little nondenominational church he’d joined after the divorce. He and Sandy had been active church members of the Gold Creek Presbyterian Church throughout their marriage, but he’d needed a change after they split up. As he’d told his mother, “She got custody of our faith.”

  The minister—a plump woman with a jovial apple-cheek smile and kind heart—preached about the importance of acceptance. The songs and psalms gave him a certain sense of peace, even though his life was upside-down.

  When he returned home, the house seemed very empty, so he turned up the radio in the garage and dug through years of accumulated possessions. By the end of the day, the garage sparkled. Even his workbench was neat and tidy.

  He’d checked in with Kristin twice by phone. She was handling the antique store for Andi, who’d taken Ida Jane to visit friends. Kris told him Tyler had invited Zach to have pizza with him in a nearby town.

  Donnie could imagine how unnerving it was for her to deal with Zach’s feelings about his father. He’d offered to take her out to dinner, but she’d declined, pleading a headache. He promised to call after he’d talked to Lucas.

  To his surprise, the large red SUV pulled into the driveway—a day ahead of schedule. The rear passenger door opened, and Lucas jumped out, dragging his backpack. Three or four shopping bags followed.

 
; Donnie hurried to help. “Hello, son. That was a fast trip. Welcome home.”

  Lucas’s grunt didn’t exactly encourage conversation. “How was your visit?”

  Lucas slammed the door and bent over to pick up two bags. He used the bulkiness of his backpack to ward off any attempt Donnie might have made to hug him. “Grandma coughs a lot and has to cart around a tank of oxygen. Uncle Elroy has a new wife who complains all the time, and her bratty kids got on my nerves.”

  The passenger-side window hissed down, and Sandy backed up enough so she was parallel to Donnie and Lucas. “I love you, honey. Sorry we had to cut the trip short. I promise to make it up to you next time.”

  Lucas grunted some kind of acknowledgment.

  “I left a message on your machine,” Sandy told Donnie, as if this change of plan was somehow his fault. “I have to run. I tried Boyd on the cell and couldn’t find him. I’m afraid he might have fallen off a ladder.”

  Donnie wisely kept his opinion to himself and stepped out of the way as she pulled around to leave. He picked up two outlet-store bags filled with brand-name jeans, shirts and a couple of sweatshirts.

  It bothered him that Sandy thought she could buy their son’s affection. But if designer labels improved his son’s self-image, Donnie couldn’t really object. Lucas had struggled with his weight since first grade when Donnie and Sandy separated. His sedentary lifestyle didn’t help, but Donnie’s attempts to interest his son in sports had backfired.

  “I’m not you, okay?” Lucas had cried when Donnie suggested PeeWee Football. “I’m not a star athlete like you. Just leave me alone.”

  Donnie carried the bags inside. “Lucas, how about a fried-egg sandwich for dinner? I’ve been too busy to cook.”

  “Had burgers in Modesto,” Lucas told him. He pulled a plastic box out of his backpack. “See what Mom bought me for my birthday?”

  A much-coveted, hard-to-find video game.

  “I’m sure you’re anxious to play it, but could we talk first?”

  Lucas sighed. “What?”

  Donnie took a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. “Well, I’d like to hear about your trip, for starters. But if you’d rather not talk about it, then we need to discuss the immediate future. What’s going to hap—”

  Lucas made a grumbling sound and collapsed onto one of the three stools at the counter. “If this is about the dumb nanny, forget it. I won’t stay with a baby-sitter. I’ll be ten tomorrow. That’s too old for a nanny.”

  Donnie could feel his son’s temper escalating. Like his father, Lucas had a short fuse. “This would be a good time to take a deep breath, son. Your voice is rising. We can’t have any kind of productive dialogue if we’re yelling at each other.”

  “No nanny,” Lucas snapped.

  “Good. Because I don’t plan to hire one.”

  That earned a startled look that quickly changed to suspicion. “What then?”

  Donnie’s pulse quickened. “First of all, I’m not going anywhere. I turned down the job. Now I’m thinking of running for sheriff.” When Lucas didn’t react, Donnie added, “And I might get married.”

  Lucas’s mouth dropped open. “Who? Mom?” A furious blush told Donnie his son regretted the mistake.

  “That would be a little difficult since she has a husband,” Donnie said as gently as possible. “Actually, Kristin is an old friend of mine who just moved back to town. We dated in high school. She has a son a year older than you. She hasn’t said yes, by the way. They want to come over tomorrow to meet you.”

  Lucas said nothing, so Donnie continued. “Her name is Kristin Sullivan. Her great-aunt owns the antique store. Her son’s name is Zach. He’s in seventh grade.”

  Lucas’s eyes narrowed. “You’re marrying some woman just to get out of paying for a housekeeper?”

  Donnie almost smiled. “No, son. If she says yes, it will be because we care about each other,” he began. But the truth was he didn’t know how to explain to a ten-year-old why he and Kris were getting married. He wasn’t sure he knew the real reason himself.

  Lucas’s expression turned to one of cynicism. “Whatever. Can I go now?” Lucas grabbed his video game and stormed out of the room.

  THREE HOURS LATER, while munching on an apple, Donnie called Kristin.

  “I’ve talked to Lucas,” he told her without preamble after her initial hello. It was ten-thirty, but she didn’t sound as though she’d been on the verge of sleep.

  “Oh?” Her tone sounded braced for bad news. “So what did he say?”

  “Pretty much what I expected him to say. Whatever,” he said, mimicking his son’s huffy sigh. “Don’t you just hate that word?”

  Kristin’s laughter warmed him. “It’s right there at the top of the list,” she said. “Along with several others I prefer to spell rather than speak aloud. What else did he say?”

  Donnie sighed, then added, “I cornered him in his bedroom a few minutes ago. He said he doesn’t care what I do as long as you promise to leave him alone and don’t try to mother him.”

  “He’s just a little boy, Donnie. I think we need to give him time.”

  “I agree in theory, but Jonathan called a few minutes ago. Apparently the filing date has passed. If I want to run, it will have to be a write-in campaign. Do you know how risky that is?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Kris, I have to decide soon.”

  “Donnie, do you honestly think I’d help your chances?”

  “Yes. People in this town love a wedding. And my marrying one of the Sullivan triplets will definitely gain me points.” He could hear her breathing. “Kris,” he said softly. “We both know politics isn’t the only thing driving this proposal. I want to marry you for a lot of reasons.”

  She was quiet for a long time. Donnie really didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone. “The other night when I proposed, it might have been for the wrong reason, but, Kris, it felt right. I could run for office as a single man—and I will if you turn me down. But why don’t we do what you suggested—lay our cards on the table with the boys? Bring Zach over here tomorrow. It’s a holiday and Lucas’s birthday. Let’s all four discuss this face-to-face.”

  “I’d like to meet Lucas, but I’m not agreeing to anything until we’ve all had a chance to talk.”

  They ironed out the details of their meeting then Donnie said good-night. He hung up the phone and picked up the stack of FAM paperwork he’d accumulated. He couldn’t help feeling a little regret. He would have liked to give this a try. Too often in the past he’d taken the easy route. Was he doing it again? It didn’t feel easy.

  The phone rang before he could step away from the desk. Assuming it was Kristin, he said, “Change your mind?”

  “Donavon?”

  “Mom. How’s Aunt Roberta?”

  “Not good. They’ve got her on a dozen different medications. I’m so glad I can be here with her.”

  Donnie made a note to send flowers. “Me, too.”

  “What’s been decided on your end? Have you talked to anyone yet—no, wait, the ad won’t even be out till later in the week, will it? I’ve lost all track of time.”

  Donnie took a breath and let it out. “Actually, Mom, I have news. I’m not taking the air marshal job. And I’ve asked Kristin Sullivan to marry me.”

  His mother didn’t answer for a good minute. “Kristin? But, Donnie, what about your dreams?”

  “Mom, Lucas needs me here. Besides, Kristin has always been my real dream. You know that.”

  “Marriage is a big step, Donnie. Are you sure?”

  He’d been practicing this speech in his head all day. “Kris and I have known each other since we were kids, Mom. We’re soul mates.” As he spoke the words, Donnie knew they were true. “And there’s more, Mom. I’m going to run for sheriff.”

  A long sigh filtered through the phone line. “I know you’ll make a wonderful sheriff, son, but single men get elected, too. If you’re marrying Kristin just to win an elec
tion…”

  Donnie tried to answer with bluster, but she cut him off. “Forget I said that. I’ll keep my nose out of it since I can’t be there to help, but, Donnie, you know you can call me if the…engagement doesn’t work out.”

  He expelled a sigh. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Tell my grandson I love him and miss him and I wish him a very happy birthday.”

  “You got it. I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, too, Donnie. You’re a remarkable man. Kristin is a lucky woman.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll tell her you said so.”

  “That’s probably not a good idea. Mothers are notoriously prejudiced when it comes to their sons. Actually, I saw Kristin the day before I left. She’s still very pretty. But I can’t help remembering…”

  “Things are different this time,” he told her. “Ty Harrison is back, and it sounds like he might use Kristin’s reputation for not putting down roots anywhere to obtain custody of Zach.”

  “So by marrying one of the town’s leading citizens, she has integrity and stability on her side.”

  Donnie made a face. “I don’t know about the leading-citizen thing, but Kris loves her son and will do anything for him. I’m hoping she and Lucas will hit it off.”

  “What does Sandy think of the idea?”

  “I’ll let you know after I tell her.”

  They ended the conversation because a nurse interrupted to administer something to his aunt. He wished his mother a good night then hung up.

  One hurdle out of the way. Sandy would be next. She deserved to be informed about this since this plan affected their son’s welfare, but she wasn’t entitled to be a part of the decision-making process.

  He rose thoughtfully and turned off the lights. In the corner, propped against the fireplace stood the old Ibanez guitar he’d found in the storage closet. His son had received a shiny new bass for Christmas. This electric guitar was the one Donnie had bought after his first paying gig. With new strings and a little TLC, it might just help Donnie connect with Zach.

 

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