by Erin Dutton
She liked Nina and enjoyed the time they’d spent together, but once she got past missing having Sean in the house, she actually looked forward to having the place to herself again. Until last year, when Sean left, she’d never lived alone. She’d gone from her parents’ house to sharing a college dorm room, then to an off-campus apartment with Jacqueline.
Without Sean, at first, she’d been lonely and the house seemed too quiet. But after a while, she’d learned to appreciate the time for herself. She’d begun to explore photography for her own enjoyment for the first time in longer than she could remember. She’d started hiking and shooting nature—lakes, trees, flowers, birds—any frame with no people in it, really. She feared that letting Nina further into her life meant relinquishing those new pieces of her freedom.
She popped open a bottle of wine and poured a large glass, deciding now was not the time to examine her relationship with Nina. She’d had four sessions today, all children, two of which clearly didn’t want to sit for portraits, and was exhausted. She needed a quick break to recharge before getting back to work.
She headed down the short hallway to the left of the kitchen. Pausing in the doorway to Sean’s room, she automatically cataloged the things missing from the room—his laptop, the iPhone docking station that seemed to constantly be playing music, and most of the clothes from his closet, judging by the empty hangers visible through the open closet door.
He’d left the framed photograph on his dresser of him standing between Casey and Jacqueline last year when they’d dropped him off at college. Casey mentally compared it to the one in her own bedroom that was taken the day they’d officially adopted him. He’d changed immensely, as expected, growing up and filling out into a young man. And Casey critically picked out the signs of aging in her own features. New lines bracketed her mouth. Her face was a bit fuller—much the same as the rest of her body—and the dimples brought out by her smile appeared deeper.
Jacqueline, too, had softened over the years. Her waist was a little thicker, and her breasts and hips were rounder. Her dark hair was as lustrous as ever, but she wore it shorter now, an inch or so shy of brushing her shoulders. Just before the picture had been snapped, Jacqueline had thrown her arm around Sean’s shoulders. Their wide smiles touched their nearly identical brown eyes in such a way that if she didn’t know better, she might have sworn they were related by blood.
The room still smelled like Sean’s favorite cologne, and she blinked back a mist of tears as she closed the door and continued down the hall to her own room.
Chapter Two
Jacqueline rolled her golf cart to a stop behind the one in front of her just next to the tee box on the first hole. She stepped out of the cart and twisted her upper body slowly, pulling one arm across her chest. She’d had some back issues in her thirties, and now, in her forties, if she didn’t stretch she’d be more susceptible to injury or, at the very least, some next-day soreness.
She drew a deep breath, enjoying the scent of fresh-cut grass. A light breeze cooled the heat from the full midday sun. If she closed her eyes she could almost convince herself she was out here for pleasure and not business. She chuckled to herself. A round of golf purely for her own enjoyment—that would be a rare treat.
Owen Tanager, her boss and playing partner for the day, slid out of the passenger seat and pulled out his driver. “Are we doing yoga or playing golf, Jacqueline?” He strode to the tee box.
Before she could reply, another one of their foursome spoke up. “Show her how it’s done.”
Owen laughed at the jab from one of their competitors for the day. He’d roped two of the local managers into spending the afternoon on the course with them. The losers would pay for dinner and drinks later. Owen teed up his ball and took a blistering practice swing. His fitted polo showed off his strong shoulders and back and highlighted the V-shaped torso he worked hard to maintain. Jacqueline admired his commitment to fitness, especially since he had fifteen years on her, though, in fairness, he spent more time with his personal trainer than she ever would. She’d given up wasting money on a gym membership she wouldn’t use, and rarely even made time to use the hotel fitness centers when she traveled.
With a big swing, Owen sent his ball soaring down the fairway. But the trajectory painted a sweeping fade to the right, and his ball bounced into the tree line. None of the other players said a word as Owen stalked back to the cart and shoved his driver back into his bag.
“Pick me up, partner.” Owen patted Jacqueline’s shoulder.
Filled with confidence, she grinned as she teed up the ball. During their first outing together, she’d let him win, on the advice of a colleague, and he’d barely noticed her for the entire round. The next time she’d played with him, she hadn’t held anything back, besting him by several strokes in the end. She ignored the it-was-nice-knowing-you looks her coworkers gave her and held her head high. He seemed pissed. But the next time she was in town for a charity tournament, he’d promptly claimed her for his team.
She glanced down the fairway once more, then swung her driver. The sound and feel of the ball coming off the face of the driver indicated she’d hit the ball as well as she could. It landed in the center of the fairway. Since she played from the men’s tees, one of the other two would likely out-drive her in distance, but often, the rest of her game was tight enough to compensate.
Two hours and ten holes later, Owen and Jacqueline dominated their opponents. As they’d pulled so far ahead that their score was unreachable, Owen had started teasing the other two. He began talking about where they’d go for dinner and what expensive dish he might make them pay for. His attitude was a bit arrogant for Jacqueline’s taste. She preferred to enjoy her victory more privately. Though there wasn’t really much on the line in this match, she liked to win. She loved the adrenaline rush that grew with each passing hole—a feeling rivaled only by really good sex. It’s about time for that, too, she thought as she stowed her club in her bag and climbed into the cart.
Maybe she could catch Marti in town. Over the years, Jacqueline had been involved with a number of women, always casual and usually short-term. She remained upfront about what she wanted, careful not to lead them on. She wouldn’t date a woman in Nashville, convinced, with all of her travel, they’d have some of the same issues that drove her and Casey apart. So she made mostly superficial connections in the cities she frequented. She wasn’t interested in relocating a woman to Tennessee, and she didn’t do long-distance. Eventually, her terms had brought them to a point of separation either when the other woman wanted more from her or met someone else who could provide a real relationship.
Marti was different. As a flight attendant, she also spent nearly as much time away as she did at home. She wasn’t looking for a wife, just good sex and companionship when she was at home in Atlanta. Jacqueline had been involved with her for three years, and they’d actually developed an uncomplicated friendship.
She grabbed her phone from the cup holder of the golf cart and sent a text inviting Marti to a late dinner one night this week. As she stepped out of the cart, she shoved her phone in her pocket, then grabbed her nine iron and approached her ball in the center of the fairway. She was settling in for her next shot when her phone vibrated against her thigh, indicating what she was certain was an affirmative response from Marti. She swung her club and sent the ball arcing toward the green. The ball landed, took a short hop, and rolled to within ten feet of the hole.
Owen tapped his palm against her shoulder. “That’s my girl.” He winced, as if he’d just realized that he’d made such a condescending remark to his human-resources manager. “Okay. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
Jacqueline nodded and shoved her club back into her bag. Though his comment was definitely inappropriate, the calculated apology would leave her looking like a hysterical female in front of the other guys if she challenged him. Besides, Jacqueline believed in picking her battles, and this wasn’t one she wanted to wage. S
he’d been playing this game for too long to screw it up now. Owen’s boss had been hinting around about retiring, and Owen was favored to move into his spot. If Jacqueline wanted to stay in play for Owen’s job, she wouldn’t be raising hell about a sexist comment.
Despite the veneer of polish at the executive levels, the shipping business was built on eighteen-wheelers and forklifts. When she wasn’t meeting with the suits, Jacqueline spent most of her time with the hourly employees, truck drivers and dock workers. Thanks to mandatory annual sexual-harassment training, she heard fewer crass remarks and offensive language than when she first joined the company. But in the end, she worked in a blue-collar industry dominated by male employees. She still caught the occasional lewd or sexist comment when someone thought she wasn’t in earshot.
*
Casey balanced a large plastic storage bowl filled with chili in her hands while locking the deadbolt on her front door. She’d slung a tote bag containing a bottle of wine, a loaf of Texas toast, and a Ziploc baggie of homemade brownies over her shoulder. Despite her cargo, she opted to walk the three blocks to her standing Wednesday dinner engagement. Though the temperature still held at just over eighty degrees, the evening air lacked the humidity typical of Tennessee in late August.
As she passed the park, she nodded at several parents watching over their young children from a bench near the playground. She’d walked Sean to the same park to play more times than she could count. The green space so close to the house had been one of its major selling points. She’d been happy she was able to stay in the neighborhood after she and Jacqueline broke up. She’d been prepared to fight for the house, but surprisingly Jacqueline had acquiesced without protest and, in fact, had insisted on paying part of the mortgage so that Casey and Sean wouldn’t have to worry about money. Casey had argued, not comfortable with Jacqueline supporting her, but Jacqueline had insisted that her contribution was for Sean. She’d also admitted that with all of her traveling, having Sean and Casey close to her father eased her mind.
Casey had worked hard to build her business and decrease her dependency on Jacqueline’s money. She’d reached a point of self-sufficiency several years ago and had started putting any money that didn’t support Sean into a savings account. She’d presented him with a chunk of it each year as he started college. She planned to sign the account over to him upon his college graduation. She felt good about separating herself financially from Jacqueline. But she’d never let go of her connection to Teddy.
As she reached Teddy’s house, she knocked once, then, using her key, opened the door in order to save him the walk to the foyer. “Teddy?”
She found him in the living room, in his chair with the sports section. She didn’t know anyone else who read an actual newspaper. Her attention span was so short, she typically heard the latest sound-bites from the local television network while editing photos and drinking her morning coffee.
She touched his shoulder and returned his greeting on her way to his modest kitchen. The outdated countertops and cabinets inspired a wave of nostalgia for her mother’s kitchen. Teddy even had the same ivory-colored appliances she’d grown up with. She dumped the chili in a big pot, set it on the stovetop to warm, and turned on the oven to heat the bread. After pouring two glasses of wine, she headed back through the doorway to the living room. While most of their neighbors, herself included, were opening up the floor plans in these old houses, Teddy had retained the walls that defined each separate room and made the footprint feel smaller.
“Anything good in there?” She nodded toward the now-folded paper on the lamp table beside him as she handed him a glass.
“Never is.” He sipped, then nodded his head in approval. “Something smells good.”
“Chicken chili. It’s been wafting through the house all day. I can hardly wait for the bread to toast.” The small plate of cheese and crackers she’d called lunch in between clients today hadn’t kept her stomach from growling throughout the afternoon. But her day had already been jammed before she’d agreed to squeeze in a senior portrait session that required her to drive twenty minutes outside of town to an abandoned barn.
“Did Sean get away before you started crying all over him?”
“Yes. Smart-ass.” She gave an exaggerated sniff. “I’m getting better at this.”
“Oh, honey, you never get better at letting them go. You just learn how to hide it.”
“Now there’s something I’ve never been good at.” The sarcastic comment slipped out before she could censor it. She usually avoided talking about Jacqueline with Teddy. He’d never stopped treating Casey like a daughter, and that couldn’t have always been easy for him.
“You weren’t alone in that.”
“Sorry.” She stood and headed for the kitchen to check the bread. “Today has me feeling nostalgic.”
He nodded absently, his eyes taking on a distant look. The ball of emotion in her throat grew larger as she continued into the kitchen. She hated these moments of vulnerability that reminded her of his advancing age.
“Get a grip, Casey.” She rolled her eyes as she bent to take the bread from the oven. Mostly, she was simply emotional and being melodramatic. But a small part of her couldn’t help focusing on all of the little ways he’d been acting differently. Where she’d once seen only a strong family provider, this past year, she’d caught glimpses of frailty—both physically and mentally.
As she spun toward the counter, she nearly ran into Teddy, now standing in the middle of the kitchen. She jerked the tray close to her to keep from burning him, and the bread slid toward her, several of the pieces ending up trapped between her shirt and the edge of the cookie sheet. She maneuvered the hot pan onto the counter while trying to salvage the bread.
“Geez, Teddy. Don’t sneak up on a girl like that.”
His eyes darted from the bread to the front of her shirt, and a slight tremor shook his hand as he swiped his forehead. He appeared more shook up by the near miss than she did. He stared at the three slices of bread now on the floor.
“I hope you weren’t craving bread.” She gathered them up and threw them in the trash, then bent to clean the crumbs from the floor. Despite her attempt at levity, he still appeared bothered. She straightened and touched his shoulder. “Hey, it’s fine. Did you come in here for something?”
“No—I—” He looked around, obviously now at a loss as to why he’d entered the kitchen.
She steered him toward the dining room. “Sit down. I’ll bring your dinner.”
When she set a bowl of chili in front of him a minute later, he said, “I can’t seem to remember anything these days. Getting old sucks.”
She laughed.
“Just you wait.”
She groaned as she settled slowly back in her chair, further proving his point. “Are you not feeling well?” She laid her paper napkin across her lap while covertly studying him for signs of illness.
“Aches and pains. Let’s stop talking about how old I am.” He waved his fork dismissively.
“I’m not too far behind you. If I didn’t write everything down, I’d never know where I was supposed to be or what I’m doing.”
“That’s because you work too hard.”
“Says the man who had two jobs for most of his adult life.”
“Raising Jacq wasn’t cheap.”
Casey laughed with him. “She does have expensive taste. But I don’t have it easy either. You’ve seen Sean eat.”
“You have a point there. I’ve stayed out of the business between you. But I’m sure if you needed money for Sean, Jacq—”
“No. She’s always done more than her share for him financially.” She set her fork down and wiped her mouth, her appetite waning with the change in topic. “Sometimes, the extra work is more about filling the hours than the bank account.” She didn’t want him worrying about her finances. And her statement was partly true. She readily admitted she’d been experiencing a bit of empty-nest syndrome. But more than that, sh
e found a degree of satisfaction in capturing the perfect memories for couples and families.
Chapter Three
By the time Casey left Teddy’s house, the sun had long set, but she refused the offer to take his car. Still, she kept a vigilant watch and maintained her pace through the dark patches between the circles of streetlamp glow. She carried her keys fisted in her hand, with one sticking out between her middle and index fingers. They lived in a relatively safe area outside of the metropolitan area of Nashville, but as the city continued to grow and change, so did the neighborhoods around it. One of the homes down the block from Teddy had been broken into just last week. The residents weren’t home, and their security alarm had apparently scared off the suspects before they could get much from the house.
Casey worried more about Teddy than about herself. But he and his late wife had bought the house just before Jacqueline was born, and he’d likely die in it, just as she had. Casey had lost her parents in a car accident while she was in college. Teddy and his wife had been nearly as instrumental as Jacqueline in getting her through their funerals and the months following while settling their estate.
She and Jacqueline had been separated for two years when Jacqueline’s mother had passed away. She marveled at how differently her family had dealt with their grief. Teddy had withdrawn from everyone except Sean, who, at only fourteen, had probably processed his loss most easily of any of them. She hated that he’d said good-bye to so many people in his life already. As much as she knew he loved his adopted family, he also seemed to hold a piece of himself back, as if expecting he might lose them at any time.
Casey spent the days and weeks following the funeral trying to take care of everyone, while privately dealing with losing her second mother. She forced home-cooked meals on Teddy, smothered Sean with love, and sent largely unanswered texts to Jacqueline just checking in. Jacqueline, like her father, had isolated herself. Casey suspected she’d thrown herself even more into work, but she hadn’t known how Jacqueline was handling her downtime, when she couldn’t escape her grief.