by Janet Eaves
“Hey! That you, Betsy? Wow!” He set down his laptop case and gave her a hug. “LizBeth Ann? Geez, you’re gettin’ big!”
LizBeth Ann smiled and took her mother’s hand.
“Honey, this is your cousin, Daniel McClain. He’s Midnight’s…little boy. Not a very little boy though, is he?”
She tipped her head to one side and looked at him. “Daniel? Are you a little boy?”
“No way! I’m almost grown up. I can drive a car!” He leaned down to stage-whisper into her ear. “Parents say silly things sometimes, don’t they?”
She considered somberly and nodded. A few minutes later Daniel had her by the hand, giving her a tour of the merchandise offered in the shop, and then the upstairs apartment where Midnight had lived when she first moved to Legend. As always, he was the responsible young man. Betsy allowed herself to realize she’d missed two years of his growing up. What a shame.
“Well, this gives us a few minutes. Tell me what’s going on with Mike.” Midnight stirred her own coffee and leaned on the bar toward Betsy, her voice low.
“Nothing’s going on. He’s just there. Suddenly he’s there! All this time, nothing. No contact at all. I mean since the day I drove out of Legend.”
Her friend nodded. “I know.”
“If it weren’t for you she wouldn’t even know what the man looked like. That picture you sent? I always kept it in her room. Like you said, she deserved to know she had a daddy.”
“So…she recognized him when they met?”
“Yes.” Betsy sighed. “For a minute I wished she’d never seen the picture. But I know you’re right. She needed to have that connection with him at least.” She swiveled on the stool to make sure they still had privacy to speak freely. “You should have seen Mike’s face when she said he looked like her daddy! He was shocked, of course. Jerk.”
“Jerk? He said something?”
“No. No, I don’t mean that. He was fine. Really, he was quite charming—to LizBeth Ann, I mean. She’s fallen in love with him, of course.”
“And has he fallen in love with her?”
“I don’t know. I can’t say I’ve ever understood what went on in Michael’s head.”
“Hm. So, what about the change of men today?”
“I told him to get off the job. To have his employer send someone else to do it. Having him there every day would be just too much. He has a key, for heaven’s sake!”
“And you don’t trust him with the house?”
Betsy stared into the depths of her empty coffee mug. “I don’t trust him with my daughter.”
Midnight put her hand on Betsy’s and her voice dropped to a near whisper. “Hey. Look at me. Is that really the problem?”
The younger woman’s blue eyes raised and linked with Midnight’s black ones. “Not entirely. I also don’t trust him…with my heart.”
Chapter Five
“Mommy! Can I go in and see Daddy?”
They had just stepped into the entryway of Charles and Dorothy’s house. LizBeth Ann immediately dashed down to the library door.
“Honey, just a minute…” Why hadn’t she thought ahead and prepared LizBeth Ann for the shock that Mike wouldn’t be working there anymore? What kind of mother was she? Not that she’d keep him from seeing the child entirely, but this every day thing was…
“Hi, Daddy! Guess where we been!”
Feeling wretched, Betsy reached the door and looked in, expecting to see surprise and distress on her daughter’s face. Instead she saw the back of her head, and Mike had her in a big hug. He was smiling.
Then he looked up and saw Betsy, and his smile faded. Releasing LizBeth Ann, he held her hands and looked only at her when he spoke. “Hm. I don’t know. You’ve been to…the moon?”
“Ha! No! Guess again.”
“You’ve been to…the ocean?”
“No! No! Guess again!”
“You’ve been to…see Midnight?” He looked at Betsy when he said it.
“Yes! You’re really smart!” She hopped up and down. “Mommy, Daddy’s really smart, isn’t he?”
Betsy crossed her arms. “Uh-huh.” Smart-something.
“And how is Ms. Midnight today?”
“Good. And Daniel. He’s my cuzzy. He’s good too. He showed me the upstairs Midnight used to live in. There’s a hole in the roof.”
“There’s a skylight,” Betsy corrected.
“And pretty couches and stuff. And in the store we had drinks. I had foamy milk and I liked it! Mommy said I can have foamy milk again sometime.”
“Sounds great, Princess. I’m glad you had fun.”
“Yes. I had fun. But now I get to see you, and I like that better.” She hugged his neck again, and he rubbed her back gently.
“I’m glad to see you too. I wasn’t sure I’d get to see you today.”
“Why come?”
“Well, because this is a big job and maybe one of the other guys should do it instead of me.” He looked directly at Betsy. “So I asked my boss, Greg, and he said no way. He said I’m the man for this job. End of story.”
LizBeth Ann’s brow cleared. “Good! That’s the very best thing!”
“I don’t know,” Betsy began. “Maybe Greg meant Daddy is doing this job for today, but tomorrow or someday soon—”
Mike stood. “No. The situation, Betsy, is that this is where I’ll be working, ‘til the project is done. Get used to it.”
“Don’t think you can tell me what to do, Michael McClain! Because I want you to know, I’ve done just fine for two years without your sorry—I’ve done just fine. LizBeth Ann has done fine too, and we don’t need this. I guess I’ll have to go see this Greg guy and explain things to him.”
“Mommy…”
“I’ve explained everything to him. More than I wanted to. And the deal is, I’m here for the duration. You make a big stink about it, and the job won’t get done.”
“You mean you’ll get fired. Again. Or quit.”
“No, I don’t mean that. I’m good at my job, and Greg won’t let me go because of something—stupid—like this. If you keep being a pain, though, he might let this job drop, at least for now. Charles and Dorothy would come home to this.” He waved his arm at the disastrous looking room. “Then maybe, once you’re out of the picture, assuming we could fit it into the work schedule, I’d come back out here and finish the job.”
He walked across the room and looked out one of the long front windows, his strong hands braced on the frames. “Your choice, Betsy.”
“Daddy. Mommy. Don’t yell.” LizBeth Ann barely said it before the tears began to flow. Betsy immediately swept her into her arms.
“You did this,” she mouthed to Mike. He just glared at her, and she carried her daughter out of the room.
They went for a walk in the sunshine. The warm breeze dried LizBeth Ann’s tears and after a while she stopped sniffling. But as she picked tiny wildflowers—some people would call them weeds—she held them clutched in her little hand instead of offering them to her mother as she usually did. Betsy felt horrid, and chastised too, by this. They had traversed the entire lawn, which was rather large, and headed into the woods at the back of the property. LizBeth Ann, usually hesitant with a new situation, led the way, seldom checking to be sure she wasn’t alone. That her mother was still with her.
What do I say? How do I explain the way Mike and I treat each other? Well… Maybe I don’t explain. Maybe I do better. We both do better. There has to be a way to get through this for LizBeth Ann’s sake.
The little girl suddenly stopped and pointed ahead of her, dropping all the wildflowers as she did. There, twenty yards or so away, were two white tail deer. A doe and a fawn. Betsy hadn’t seen a deer in a while—not a live one, anyway. The occasional dead one was always a shock lying in the back of a pickup truck. That happened even in the city during hunting season. Some proud hunter taking his prey to the processing plant.
But these proud animals were fascinating! Those
big luminous eyes staring right into hers. There was something…almost a connection. The big beautiful doe stared at Betsy for what seemed a long time. LizBeth Ann, to her credit, was completely silent and still. Then a couple of squirrels began to chatter overhead—probably bothered by the presence of the humans—and the doe slowly blinked twice and sprang away in the other direction, closely followed by the fawn.
“Oh! Why did they run? Mommy—” LizBeth Ann clutched her hand. “Mommy, why did they run away?”
“Well, sweetie, the mommy was trying to be careful. She wanted to keep her baby safe.”
“But we wouldn’t hurt it.”
“No, we wouldn’t. But the mommy couldn’t know that. She didn’t know what might happen, so she ran.”
LizBeth Ann looked disgusted. “A mommy shouldn’t be like that.” She leaned down and started picking up the slightly crushed flowers. “A mommy should be brave. So she can teach her baby to be brave too. Isn’t that so?”
Well. Maybe.
Maybe Betsy’s running was sending the wrong message to her daughter. Maybe staying put was better. Not “standing and fighting” either. She’d already seen the results of that, and they weren’t pretty. But just staking one’s claim and being strong—that was better. That would let everyone in Legend know, including her daughter, that Betsy wasn’t a timid teenager anymore, and wasn’t afraid to shoulder the responsibilities of adulthood. She’d been doing that on her own for a while, but nobody in Legend really knew that. All they knew was she’d picked up her baby and left town, pretty much cutting off all ties, and leaving Mike McClain looking foolish.
Now that she thought of it, she wondered how his ego had taken that. Wondered how the town folk had treated him. With disdain because he’d let his wife leave him, or with pity? Neither one would set well with a McClain. He could have been uglier with her about it but he hadn’t. Hadn’t said much of anything about her leaving, had he? Well… If he could set that aside, surely she could too.
Maybe there was a way for the two of them to live in Legend and not make each other, or their daughter, miserable. It was a small town, but still, they didn’t have to be in each other’s sight all the time. Betsy took LizBeth Ann’s hand and started to walk back toward the house. She stopped for a moment and looked in the direction the deer had gone. Maybe there was a way to avoid running again.
Chapter Six
The hammering began, early as always. Betsy rolled onto her back and threw a forearm over her eyes, then pulled it away again. No reason to cover her eyes—it was still dark outside. Mike had never been an early riser before. He’d never been so dedicated to a job either, or to much of anything. He’d obviously changed some since she’d known him—for the better, as far as she could tell. But she couldn’t afford to make assumptions.
She didn’t know that much about him, really. Just that he arrived at work early, put in a full day with only a few short breaks, including eating his lunch from a big metal lunchbox, as he sprawled under a large oak tree on the back lawn. She tried not to notice him too much, but it was difficult since he was always there. LizBeth Ann, of course, worshiped him. She wanted to help him work, and a few times Betsy had allowed Mike to show her a bit of what he was doing, and let her try to help in some small way. He’d quickly gotten over his initial awkwardness with the little girl. Now his face lit up whenever she entered the room, and it was apparent that he enjoyed spending time with her. He usually had at least a strained smile for Betsy too. She had begun to let father and daughter have picnic lunches together on the large shady back lawn. They were always in sight. Betsy could always look out a window and be sure that LizBeth Ann was all right.
The high pitched scream of a power saw began, and Betsy sat up, pushing her heavy curls out of her face. When the saw’s screaming ceased, she rubbed her temples for a moment. Then it began again, and LizBeth Ann stirred.
And so begins another day with the Dysfunctional Family.
When Betsy had dressed in jeans and a pale pink tee shirt, and LizBeth Ann was decked out in a shorts set with colorful tropical flowers printed all over it, they headed to the kitchen and fixed breakfast. The routine had become to fix breakfast for the three of them, and take trays into the library so they could eat together. It might have been easier to eat in the large kitchen, but Mike had agreed not to track dust and dirt from the project. For that Betsy was thankful. It was a consideration she wouldn’t have expected from the old Mike.
“Good morning, Daddy!” LizBeth Ann bounced through the library door. “Oh! How pretty!”
Betsy was intent on balancing the pitcher of orange juice, glasses, and dishes of eggs, bacon, toast and fruit. She didn’t look up, but went automatically to the window seat at the front of the room to set down the tray. She turned around and faced the room then, to see what had caught her daughter’s eye.
“Mommy—see how pretty it is!”
Well. It certainly was. A large light oak bookcase stood where yesterday there had only been a bare wall with patchy plaster. Intrigued, she walked over to it and rubbed her hand along a shelf. So smooth. And it smelled heavenly.
“This is nice, Mike.” She looked over at him and caught him watching her. She stopped caressing the wood and wiped the light coating of dust onto the seat of her snug jeans. “Very nice. Dorothy will be pleased.”
“You think so?” He smiled slightly and tipped his head, looking at the bookcase as if trying to find something wrong with it.
“Well, yes. Why wouldn’t she be?”
“I don’t know.” He looked at her, then back at the bookcase. “I’m just never sure what people’s reaction will be. You try to do a good job, make the customer happy, but… Some people are hard to please.”
Was there a message for her there? She looked hard at him, but he was concentrating on the woodwork. No. She’d probably imagined it. She was probably too touchy where Mike was concerned. He was genuinely worried that the job might not meet with Dorothy and Charles’ approval.
“I’m sure they’ll love it. It’s beautiful, Mike. Really.” She clapped her hands together to end the moment, and plastered a big smile on her face, aimed at LizBeth Ann. “So! In celebration of a beautiful bookcase, let’s eat!”
Later, as LizBeth Ann ate her sack lunch on the back lawn with Mike, Betsy sat in the bay window of the breakfast room with her own solitary meal, watching them, and reflecting on the morning’s conversation. Mike was quite a craftsman. Dorothy had told her as much, and now she could see it was true. Yet, in spite of his obvious talents, he was unsure of himself. And somehow that made her soften toward him just a little bit.
After lunch he immediately started in with the power saw again. He’d used it much of the morning too. The noise was too much for Betsy to tolerate for an entire day, so she loaded her daughter into the VW and headed to town. When they got to The Emporium they were greeted by Chloe McClain, Martin’s sister.
“Midnight O’Clock isn’t here?” asked the little girl.
Chloe smiled down at her. “Nope. Sorry. Just me today.” She looked at Betsy then. “She and Martin are on a date. They went to Gatlinburg for a couple of days.”
“Oh. Long date.” Betsy felt disappointment and a little jealousy. Not to mention discomfort at unexpectedly running into another McClain family member.
“Yeah. They do it every once in a while, and Daniel stays with our cousin Joey. You remember Joey.”
“Sure. He’s sixteen now too, right?”
“Yeah. Scary to think of those two boys driving. But really they’re not as bad as I expected.”
“Good.”
“Mmm. Joe and Joey fixed up an old GTO for him to drive. But Theresa made them tone the engine down. She was scared to death of a teenager driving a muscle car like that.”
Betsy laughed. “I hate to think of Joe driving it!”
Chloe smiled. “You’re right. Except Joe would never tear up a vehicle on purpose. That’s the only reason he’s cautious at all. He lik
es tinkering with engines, but body work isn’t his thing. Oh—remember when he drove that retired army colonel’s Hummer all over the mountain to rescue people during the Christmas blizzard, and ended up having to pay somebody to fix the scraped places when he went off the road a couple times?” She laughed. “He was livid!”
Betsy felt her face grow red. “Well, no, I don’t remember. I wasn’t here when the blizzard hit.”
Chloe’s smile disappeared. “Oh. Right.”
“What’s a blizzard, Mommy?”
“It’s a lot of snow that comes down fast, sweetie.”
“Oh.” LizBeth Ann began to climb onto a bar stool. “Chloe, do you know how to make foamy milk?”
Thank goodness for intercession. That had ended a rather inconvenient topic, and allowed the women to move on to another. Martin McClain himself.
“How’s he doing, Chloe? Busy, I’ll bet.”
“Martin’s fine. He’s so happy being married to Midnight. You know how miserable he’d been since Wife One left.”
No one ever referred to Daniel’s mother by name anymore. Martin had begun to call her Wife One just to have a way to refer to her, though that seldom was necessary. She had left town when Daniel was only a baby, leaving Martin with their child and most of the bills. Martin had said his own version of “good riddance” and raised his son alone. Until Midnight came into their lives when Daniel was thirteen years old. Betsy had worked for Martin then, and she and Midnight had quickly become friends. Betsy was hugely pregnant, and Midnight spent time with her, loaned her a beautiful red wool cape when her own coat wouldn’t close against the cold winter weather. Midnight was cultured, classy, and independent—and Betsy had longed to be like her.
“But the real estate office. That’s something else!” Chloe said, sliding the glass of foamy milk across the counter to LizBeth Ann.
“Oh? What do you mean?”
