by Vivi Holt
Just as she sat, the phone rang. She shoved the newspaper into the trash can beneath her desk, then picked up the receiver. “Murphy Realty, this is Stacey.”
“If it isn’t my long lost daughter.”
Stacey rolled her eyes and sunk deeper in her chair. This morning just kept getting worse. “Hey, Momma.”
“You never call, you never write …” Momma laughed, then fell into a hacking cough.
She waited for the coughing to subside. “Are you okay, Momma?”
“I’m fine. But how about you? I heard you have some news to tell, though Heaven knows you ain’t bothered to call your own mother to tell me. I carried you inside my body for nine whole months, pushed you out … and let me tell you, you about killed me with that big ol’ head of yours! Still, I understand you’re busy …”
Stacey squeezed her eyes shut. She should’ve known this call was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with. “I’m sorry, Momma. It’s just everything happened so quickly.”
“Uh-huh. Sure, I understand. A rich man comes to town, you’ve got to do your darnedest to land him ‘fore he leaves again. Makes perfect sense and the good Lord knows I ain’t gonna turn a man’s head no more. But I’d at least thought you’d come by and introduce me to him ‘fore you tied the knot.”
“Sorry.” Perhaps she should just tell her the truth … no. She knew Momma well enough to know that the moment she hung up the phone, any family secrets would be sold to the highest bidder.
“It’s been months since you visited.”
“I was there a few weeks ago. Remember, you had the plumbing problem and I helped you find a repair guy?”
“Feels like months,” Momma grumbled. “And you never check up on me to see if I’m okay. What if that plumber strangled me and left me for dead in my own doublewide? I don’t know what I ever did to deserve to be so lonesome in my old age. I guess I somehow raised two of the most ungrateful children on God’s green earth, though you didn’t get that from me. That’s all from your daddy’s side of the family — they were ungrateful, the lot of them, all out for what they could get.” Momma moaned into the phone. “It’s just my lot in life, I guess.”
Stacey rolled her eyes. She’d heard it all before. Momma loved to serve a good dose of guilt with her love, as though it were a lip-smacking side dish.
“You’re not old, Momma.” A well-placed compliment usually managed to slow down her pity party.
“I feel old.”
“Maybe you should get out of the house. Take a walk, get some fresh air.”
“Fresh air, my bony behind! It’s frigid out there. What’re you trying to do, get me killed?”
“Yes, momma. That’s been my plan all along to kill you off by sending you out for air.” Stacey was losing patience. The best way to deal with her mother was to stay cool, clear-headed and not get sucked into the drama she craved.
Stacey took a deep breath to calm her nerves and keep her voice neutral. “Momma, you know full well why we don’t visit often. You drink too much. The place smells like a cigarette factory. You always have men in and out of there. That last one before Cliff tried to push me around and you didn’t say a word. Ever since Daddy died, you’ve acted as though you’re trying to join him with the smoking, drinking and all the men. I’d be happy to meet you at a diner for breakfast or lunch, but I don’t want to come over.”
“Cliff’s different,” she harrumphed.
Stacey sighed. “Maybe so. I hope he is, for your sake.”
“And since you’re loaded now, maybe you could find your ol’ momma a place to live that ain’t so nasty. You’d visit me if I had a nice little cottage close by, wouldn’t you?” Momma’s voice had a wheedling tone now – she could hear her thin-lipped smile.
“I’m not loaded, Momma.”
“Sure you are. I know you married Jax Green, the football star. That means you’re rich. And you always promised me if you ever had the money you’d take care of me. I ain’t sheen nothin’ of that promise yet.”
Stacey frowned. “We just got married. I can’t ask him to do that.”
“Well, I can see where your priorities are, girl. You don’t care about family, never did.”
The phone fell silent. Stacey set the receiver back in the cradle, her heart pounding. No matter how many times she told herself not to let Momma get to her, she couldn’t seem to help it. Being reminded of the promise she’d made as a small frightened girl did nothing to help. At the time, she and Momma had been hiding in a cabinet in the trailer from her mother’s latest boyfriend as he threw things around the house and yelled about what he’d do to them when he found them.
Stacey had wanted to help Momma, but now she knew better. Momma didn’t want help. She couldn’t live without those men, just the same way she clung to the cigarettes and alcohol that daily stole her health. She wouldn’t give them up, no matter what Stacey said or did.
Stacey dropped her head into her hands and squeezed her eyes shut, her heart heavy. No matter how much you wanted it for them, some people just wouldn’t change.
Stacey’s car spluttered up the driveway past the furniture truck, its back doors flung wide open. A ramp clung to the lip of the door frame. She clicked the remote Jax had given her and the wide garage door hummed upward. She pulled her car into the garage, noting the contrast between her old Corolla with its dull paint and stained interior and the immaculate and spacious garage. Not to mention the brand new Ram truck she parked next to.
She shook her head. How long would Jax put up with her being here? He’d get sick of their ruse soon enough and send her packing. She shouldn’t grow accustomed to living here – she sure didn’t belong. But it was a nice gig while it lasted.
Inside, she found Jax on top of a ladder, hanging framed awards on one wall of the den. “Hey,” he called down to her with a smile.
She banished her dark thoughts and forced a smile. “Hey yourself.”
“Everything okay?” He climbed down the ladder, still grinning.
Just the sight of him made things seem a little better. The world a little brighter. “Yeah.”
He arched an eyebrow. “That wasn’t very convincing.”
“Nothing gets past you, huh?” She shrugged, walked into the living room and flung herself down on one of the new leather couches. “This looks great,” she marveled, glancing around the room. The couches, a dark brown La-Z-Boy and the hardwood coffee table and end tables all complemented each other nicely. Lamps, a large natural-fiber floor rug and a few other knickknacks she’d selected at the furniture store completed the stylish yet casual feel. She couldn’t help a surge of pride.
“It looks fantastic! I love it. I should have you buy all my furniture and stuff, even for my apartment in Atlanta. Especially for there – it’s so … sterile. But this feels like home already. You did good kid.”
Her cheeks flushed. “You’re welcome.”
He lowered himself onto the arm of the couch beside her and tapped her leg. “So what’s going on? You look a bit down.”
She leaned back on the couch and found his gaze on her, intent and compassionate. “Momma called. It was as pleasant an experience as usual.”
He frowned. “She hasn’t changed, huh?”
“Nope. If anything, she’s gotten worse. She’s drinking more than ever. And the boyfriends are just as bad as they’ve always been.”
Jax shook his head. “I’m so sorry.”
“Whatever. She is who she is and I can’t do anything about it.” Nonetheless, anger surged through her. She was sick of having to deal with her drama, sick of talking about her.
“That’s true, you can’t change her.”
“You’re gonna say that I have to love her, though. Right?” Her stomach turned at the thought.
“No, I wasn’t.”
She sighed. “Deep down, I do love her. Very deep.” She chuckled in an attempt to ease the tension. “But it’s just so hard for me to feel that love – mostly
I feel fear, regret, anger and helplessness when I speak to her. It’s like I’m a kid all over again and all I want to do is get away. Like Brad used to. No … more like I want to get away and take her with me – pull her away from all her bad habits, from the trailer park, from …” She threw her hands in the air in frustration.
“But you can’t.”
“But I can’t. That’s what I learned when I finally grew up and faced the truth – she’d bring her issues with her. We both would.”
He nodded and took her hand, winding his fingers through hers. His touch comforted and excited her at the same time. What did it mean?
“I know you love her, but we build walls around our heart when people hurt us. And those walls stop us from feeling that love, so sometimes we forget it’s there.”
She inhaled slowly. “That sounds about right.”
“I learned it from Dad. He worked a lot of people through inner healing, and sometimes I helped. It was amazing to see how God could bring those walls down, help people reconnect with their true feelings for God and others.”
She nodded, her mind whirling. Did she really want to reconnect with her true feelings for Momma? Maybe, but she didn’t feel ready to address that yet. Maybe down the road. “I didn’t know you did that.”
“Yeah, here and there. During high school and between semesters in college. And right after the Bills cut me but before I went to work for the cruise line.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“I kept a pretty low profile.”
“Did Brad know? About the last one.”
“Yeah, we hung out a bit then. But that was around the time of his trip to Charleston. Do you remember that?”
She laughed. “Oh yeah. Tracey Long. Ugh.”
“He was gone for a few months. Didn’t he want to marry her?”
“He did. It broke his heart when she ran off with that restaurateur or whatever he was.”
Jax sighed, then his face brightened. “Speaking of restaurants, I’m going out to eat tonight. Why don’t you come with me? It might help take your mind off things.”
“Really? Even with all the attention you get, I don’t know if I’m up for it. I think I’ll have a quiet night at home – just me, my self-pity and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.”
He chuckled. “No, you’ve got to come with me. It won’t be like that, I promise.”
Stacey frowned, wondering how he’d prevent the entire town from ogling him if he went out at night. “Fine, I’ll come. But if there’s a stampede, I’ll be holding you accountable.”
Jax laughed, then winked. “Trust me.”
12
Jax pulled his truck into a narrow alley behind some stores on Ardensville’s east side. Stacey watched him drive. He was calm, confident, completely at ease with the silence between them. Everything about him seemed measured, controlled and peaceful – nothing like how she felt most of the time. Where did he get it from? Likely from his folks – she’d noticed that about them as well. Every time she’d stepped into their house as a kid or an adult, that same peace had encircled her instantly.
In contrast, a visit with Momma felt like a trip into the heart of chaos. That atmosphere enveloped her the moment she entered the trailer. Instead of the quiet balm of the Green household, Momma’s house suffocated her, and made her nerves frazzle.
“Here we are,” said Jax as he parked the truck and unlatched his seatbelt.
Stacey looked around. “Where exactly are we?” She knew Ardensville like the back of her hand, but her whirling thoughts had kept her occupied most of the drive and she’d lost her bearings. Besides, she’d never been here before. It was tucked in away from everything, a narrow lot with uneven tarmac. Only a small bent streetlamp lit their way.
Jax didn’t answer, but went around the truck and opened her door with a smile.
She thanked him and climbed out, her heart pounding. “Are you sure this mystery restaurant is still open? It’s kinda late and very dark.”
“I’m sure.”
She shook her head. He wasn’t about to give anything away, it seemed.
When his hand enclosed hers, heat traveled up her arm and across her neck. She kept telling herself it was nothing, just friendship, but was it? He was acting as though they were on a date, and her heart seemed to have the same idea. Still, her mind fought against it. Why get hurt again? There was no other way for this to go. Jax was a famous football star who lived in another state. He’d leave and she’d stay behind, her heart shattered. She wasn’t strong enough to withstand that, not with Jax – she’d loved him too long. Her throat ached even thinking about it.
Jax led her to a black-painted steel door and knocked.
“If you’re taking me someplace to kill me, could you please do it quick before the suspense gives me a heart attack?” Stacey muttered.
Jax laughed, his eyes sparkling. “Just be patient. If I was going to kill you, I’d have done it at the cabin. No one around there for miles.”
With a head shake, she shuddered. “Gee, thanks – it makes me feel so much better that you’ve thought my murder through.”
He leaned closer and whispered, “Stacey Murphy, you make me laugh.” His eyes twinkled with laughter, but the rest of his face reflected an intensity she hadn’t seen in him before. He stepped closer, and set both hands on her arms. She was filled with a longing that made her head spin.
“Jax, uh … there’s something I should say …”
The door opened and a round, dark face with a pencil mustache peered out into the darkness at them. “Jax Green! Come on in, my man!”
Jax motioned Stacey inside. Reluctantly she released his hand and followed the man inside. He wore a white long-sleeved shirt, black-and-white checked pants and a hairnet with a few tight curls protruding from beneath it. They walked down a long dimly-lit hall as the steel door clanged shut behind them. Stacey’s heels click-clacked on the hard surface, and she squinted to try and see what was ahead.
The man glanced over his shoulder and grinned, then stopped when the hallway opened up into a small restaurant. He offered his hand. “You must be Stacey. I’ve heard a lot about you. Don’t let this guy out of your sight – he’s trouble through and through.” He winked and chuckled, his rotund belly shaking.
She couldn’t help smiling – his laughter was contagious. “Pleased to meet you, um …”
“This is Aaron Frank,” replied Jax, coming up beside Stacey and putting his hand in hers again. “He owns the restaurant.”
She looked around. The restaurant was filled with empty tables, chairs turned upside down on top of them. Lighting came from sconces along the walls, between which were hung framed black and white photographs. Soft music and glorious scents drifted from the kitchen, an open counter giving diners an opportunity to watch their food being prepared. “Aaron Frank … Is this Debonair?”
Aaron’s eyes glinted. “That it is. I opened this place back in ’97, my dream come true. This guy bussed tables for me while he was in high school with my son – Jules used to block for him.”
“Best tackle I ever ran behind outside of the NFL. How is Jules these days?”
“Got his Master’s in social work from A&T. He’s a counselor at a high school in New Bern – and coaches the linemen.” Aaron slapped Jax on the back. “I always knew this fella’d make somethin’ of himself. He was a hard worker even back then.”
Jax’s cheeks flushed and he shook his head. “You were a great boss. You always overlooked the things I did wrong.”
“Pfft – what are you talkin’ about? You never stepped wrong in your life, boy.” He chuckled and set his hands on his wide hips. “I’ve got a table set up over there. Go on and sit down and I’ll get you your first course.”
“Are we the only ones here?” asked Stacey, her eyes widening.
“You sure are – my honored guests. I had to shut the restaurant down for renovations – this building’s old, and the wiring ain’t quite up to code. We�
�re almost done, and when Jax came back to town, I thought he’d be just the person to try out my new menu on.” Aaron chuckled. “You’re really doin’ me a favor.”
Jax laughed. “Well, then, sign us up for a favor anytime.” He let go of Stacey’s hand to take Aaron’s in between his.
The two men embraced briefly, patting each other on the back before stepping away. “I’ll be back shortly,” said Aaron, lumbering off to the kitchen.
“After you,” said Jax, his hand on the small of her back. He guided her toward the one table that was set and pulled out her chair.
She felt just for a moment as if it were all real – Jax was her date, he loved her the same way she’d always cared for him – and her throat tightened. “Thank you,” she squeaked.
He nodded, slid into his own chair and poured her a glass of water from the carafe in the center of the table. “Aaron makes the best Southern dishes around,” he said as he poured another for himself.
She nodded. She’d heard of Aaron Frank, of course – everyone in Ardensville had. He was a local celebrity and had even appeared once on a national cooking show. His fusion of modern cuisine and Southern tradition was in demand with professionals from as far away as Chapel Hill, and there was often a line around the corner of diners waiting to get in. But she’d never been there before – it was too expensive. “This is really great. It’s my first time. Thanks for bringing me here.”
“Never been here? And you’re an Ardensville native.”
Her cheeks warmed. “I know. It’s just … never mind. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it tonight.” Why tell him it was out of her price range? He couldn’t understand what it was like to live the life she’d lived. Even though he was raised in town, he’d never gone without, never gone to bed on an empty stomach. It wasn’t his fault, just the way things were.
He reached across the table and took her hand again, his eyes trained on their fingers. “I’m really glad you decided to come.”
She nodded. “Me too.” Whatever was happening between them was like a freight train headed her way, and she was powerless to step out of its path. “I know I seem thick-skinned, but I’m not.”
