“You don’t give a damn about me. If you did, you’d visit me without my having to beg you to come over. If you cared about me at all you’d never have left me.”
She was upset and irrational, but her words still hurt. I knew I was right to leave home and move in with my aunt when I was fourteen, because it was wrong for my mother to padlock me in my room. But I had been wrong not to tell her where I’d gone. I’d been wrong to leave her all alone when I knew how she worried about me. It was just one more thing I’d spend the rest of my life trying to make up for. “I love you, Momma. But you can’t be happy living in this tiny apartment, never seeing anyone but Aunt Melly and me, never—”
“I’ll tell you about never,” she said. “I never want to see your aunt again. She is no longer welcome in my house. I will call the police if she shows her face here again.”
She’d never call the police, because as much as she might be in denial, she didn’t want anyone to know the truth about how she was living, to see what she’d become. Not to mention it would involve allowing strangers into her home and maybe being forced to leave. She wouldn’t call the police, but she would call me and any relief I’d gotten from my aunt helping with my mom, any peace I’d gotten knowing I had back up, would be gone. I’d have to drop what I was doing every time Mom called, which would be often. I’d have to ask Oscar to take Buddy and he’d start to wonder where I was really going all the time. I never should have co-parented with him. I should have convinced him to adopt Buddy. I’d been selfish, and I was going to end up paying for it.
“Aunt Melly was just trying to help,” I said. “She wants you to be happy and well. It’s what we both want.”
She narrowed her eyes and glared at me. “I’m perfectly well, Daffodil. I am not crazy.”
“No one is saying you’re crazy, Mom. Can you honestly say you’re happy living like this? Can you honestly say you’re getting the most out of life?”
“I bet you wish I’d died with your father, don’t you? Then you’d be free of the incredible burden my life is for you.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d said those words to me, but it never got any easier to hear them. Especially since I’d thought it in the dead of night when I was exhausted and sad and being called to my mother’s side at three in the morning again. I never really wished for it, but I couldn’t help thinking that everything would be easier if I could remember her as the happy, carefree woman she’d been and not watch her die slowly, drowning in fear and misery. “I love you, Mom. Aunt Melly and I both just want what’s best for you.”
Her mood changed suddenly, as it so often did, and she started to cry. “I’m a burden to you both and you hate me. You want to send me as far away as possible, so you never have to think about me again.”
“That’s not what we want. No one’s going to send you anywhere unless you want to go.” I rubbed her back while she cried, wondering if anything I’d said had sunk in and doubting it.
Once she’d calmed, I made tea for us and pulled a couple muffins from her pantry. She didn’t eat, because she was worried about some chemical in the muffin that the news said would kill her, but she drank the tea and calmed down enough that I was able to help her to bed and watch her drift off to sleep.
I stayed until I was sure she was out, and then I left. I dialed my aunt as soon as I got back in the car, but she didn’t answer. Right. She was in Italy. She’d strewn the seeds for this mess and then she’d flown away and left me to clean it all up.
I wanted to cry, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good, so I pulled in a deep breath and headed home.
CHAPTER SIX
Oscar
I scratched between Buddy’s ears and watched Dilly walk toward us. When she looked up, the sorrow and the bone deep worry on her face twisted something in my chest. She covered quickly, forcing a smile, but there was still sadness in her eyes.
“I hope you don’t mind I have Buddy,” I said. “I heard him whining and, when I knocked on your door, it swung open.”
Her smile fell so hard I was worried it would carry her to the ground with it. “I should have walked him before I left. I was just…” Her shoulders slumped. “I forgot…I was in such a hurry and…”
“It’s fine.” I wanted, more than anything, to take that look off her face. “That’s why we’re co-parenting.”
“I should have called you. I just…I lost track of time.”
“Out with your guy?” I hoped she’d say no, because if her guy had put that weary, sad expression on her face, I was going to have to hate him. Then, I’d have to find him and talk some sense into him.
“Sure was,” she said, her forced smile back.
“Everything go okay?”
Confusion wrinkled her petite brow. “Of course, why do you ask?”
“You just looked sad for a minute there.” No need to tell her that her smile was obviously faked.
“Oh, right. Well, it was a rough day for him. He just found out…Um, his cat has cancer.”
All my earlier hatred of her boyfriend vanished. I’d never like him, but I could feel sympathy for the guy. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. What’s he going to do?”
She twisted her hands together. She was really broken up about this guy’s cat. “He’s going to have to have her put down. He can’t afford the heart medicine.”
“Heart medicine? I thought you said the cat had cancer.”
Something like panic entered her eyes and she shook her head. “She does. Of course, she does, but the cancer isn’t the biggest problem. She also has heart problems, um, caused by the cancer.”
I just stared, because I was getting the distinct impression that Dilly was lying to me. Why would she lie about her boyfriend’s cat, unless…? My heart sank, and my hands fisted. Unless she was covering up something worse. “Dilly, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“If something happened with your boyfriend, if he did something?”
Pure shock and horror filled her expression. “What? No. Oscar, nothing like that happened. I would never…I just…” She sighed. “It’s been a long day and I’m exhausted. I didn’t explain it right, but his cat is really sick and is going to be put down. That’s all that happened.”
I didn’t believe her, and it must have shown on my face, because she hurried up the steps past me. “I should go. I’ve got a million loads of laundry to do before work tomorrow.”
“Go to dinner with me.” I couldn’t let her leave like that.
“What?”
“You must be starving after such a sad day and it’s after six, too late to start laundry, unless you want to be up all night.”
A hint of a smile peeked out, her first real smile since she’d arrived, and I felt like jumping for joy. “I need clothes to wear to work tomorrow.”
“Put a load in. We’ll walk to the taco bar on fifth and have a quick bite. We’ll get back before they’re ready to go in the dryer.”
She slumped a bit. “Thanks, but I don’t feel like being around people right now. I just need to veg tonight.”
A sort of desperation crept over me. “Then I’ll get the tacos to go and bring them back here. We can sit on the porch with Buddy and eat. We don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to.”
“That’s really sweet,” she said, her smile growing. “But I—”
“Do you have any food in your house, yet?”
“I’m sure I can find something to throw together.”
“And I’m sure tacos will be better. I owe you a meal, and I’m going there anyway. It won’t be any trouble to pick something up for you.” It wasn’t a lie because the idea had made me crave tacos. I’d grab some, even if she turned me down.
“Really?” she asked.
“Really. What do you want? Fish taco?”
She scrunched her nose in distaste. “Just the standard beef taco. With everything on it. If you wait, I can walk with you—”
; “You get your laundry in and I’ll bring the tacos to you.”
“Give me just a minute and I’ll bring you some money.”
I watched her walk inside and patted Buddy’s head. “Take care of her. I’ll be right back.”
I was halfway down the block when I heard her call my name, but I just smiled and kept walking.
When I got back, tacos in hand, she was on the porch next to Buddy, her hand in his fur, and she was smiling.
I sat next to the two of them, put the bag of food between us, and handed over her taco. She took it, though she didn’t look happy about it. “How much do I owe you?”
I put my finger to her lips, trying my best to be silly about it and not notice how plump and soft they felt beneath my finger. “No talk. This is a low-stress, silent meal. We will do nothing but eat and enjoy the amazing view before us.”
I took my finger away and she opened them. “But—”
I shoved my finger against her lips again. “Shh. No talking. No thinking. Just taste the food in your mouth, breathe in the clean air, and enjoy the beauty surrounding us.”
I pulled my finger away slowly and dropped my attention to the bag of food and my own meal before I did something stupid like replacing my finger with my lips. When I glanced over at Dilly, she was watching me, a contemplative look on her face. When she met my gaze, she looked away quickly and shoved a bite of taco in her mouth.
I ate, chewing slowly and thoughtfully, savoring every flavor, every bite. I looked out at the mountains and I just breathed, thinking of nothing. I also allowed myself to enjoy Dilly’s warm presence next to me, her jaw working as she chewed, the faint scent of citrus that always surrounded her.
“Can I talk now?” Dilly asked, once we were done eating, our trash stuffed into the bag, the bag shoved behind us. We were both petting Buddy now, our hands occasionally bumping as we ran them through his fur.
“I didn’t think you wanted to talk,” I said.
She smiled, the sadness now almost completely gone from her eyes. “I just want to thank you. That was amazing.”
“Do you feel better?”
“I do. I feel lighter and so peaceful. It’s like everything I was worried about just washed away.”
“What are you worried about?” I couldn’t help leaning in, wanting to get closer to her.
Her expression shuttered, and she looked back at the mountain. “Taxes, rent money, climate change, the usual stuff.”
I knew she was blowing off my question and I wanted to push her, to make her tell me her real worries, but I didn’t have that right. I was just the guy next door, her doggy co-parent. So, I changed the subject. “You said you’ve always lived in Catalpa Creek?”
She nodded, her gaze still on the mountains. “I have.”
“Are you parents still here? Siblings?”
She stiffened, and I knew I’d asked the wrong question. “My dad passed away when I was twelve and I’m an only child, but my mom still lives in town.”
“Are you close?”
She stared at the mountains for a long moment, and I figured she wasn’t going to answer. The sun had set, and the light was dimming quickly. I stared into the darkness and got lost in my own thoughts.
“No.” I looked over at her, having completely forgotten my question, but her gaze was fixed on the mountains. “I see her all the time, but I wouldn’t say we’re close. It’s weird isn’t it?” She spoke like she was talking to herself. “How we can talk to someone every day, see them every week, and still not know them at all, not really?”
I had no response. I thought about Molly, inside, probably sleeping as she had been doing almost every hour of the day and night since she’d arrived, and I understood what Dilly meant.
Next to me, she sighed and stood. “Thanks for this, but I should get back to my laundry. I’ll be up all night at this rate.”
“You can borrow my washer. Get two loads done at the same time.”
“Thanks,” she said, her voice weary and sad. I wished I could see her face in the darkness, but I figured I’d see only sadness, the effects of the silent meal already fled. “I can handle it.”
I had a feeling she handled a lot on her own, maybe too much. “The offer stands. We’re doggy co-parents now, what’s mine is yours.”
Her breath hitched, and she just stood there for a long moment, silent. “You’re a good guy, Oscar.” Then she went inside, Buddy following her in.
A good guy. I’d rather be a sexy guy, or a hot guy, or a guy she looked forward to seeing every day, but I got the feeling maybe Dilly had enough of those other kinds of guys in her life. If I could be a good guy for her, maybe that would be enough.
Inside, Molly was on the couch, the flashing blue of the television reflecting on her face. I sat next to her, grabbed the remote from her hand, and flicked off the T.V. Dilly’s words, about not knowing the people who were closest to us, had made me question how I was handling Molly’s visit. I hated that we’d been living together without talking about anything that mattered. Had I let her down by letting her keep her secrets?
“Hey,” she protested half-heartedly. “I was watching that.”
I turned on the lamp on the end table and faced my sister. “What’s going on, Molly? Why are you really here?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the coffee table. “I don’t want to talk about it, Oscar. I’m not ready.”
“You don’t have to talk about it. You can crash here for the next three months and not talk about it, but you have to stop moping around, sleeping all day, and being miserable. I’m worried about you.”
She ran a hand through her tangled blond hair, her fingers getting caught several times, and her eyes widened. “I’m a mess, aren’t I?”
I smiled. “Yeah, messier than I’ve ever seen you.” She’d always been the sister with her life together, her wardrobe stylish, her hair done to perfection.
She sighed. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone else and you have to swear not to offer your opinion.”
I raised my right hand. “I do so solemnly swear.”
She rubbed her hands down her face. “I’m pregnant.”
I bit back my congratulations and excited smile. I loved nieces and nephews, but Molly didn’t look happy about this news. “I assume Daniel is the father?”
She nodded. “Don’t judge me, Oscar. This was never what I wanted. My career has always come first. I have huge goals and getting pregnant, having a family, was never one of them.”
I rubbed her back in small circles. She dropped her head forward and placed a hand over her mouth, her body shaking. When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes.
“Daniel is thrilled about the baby. He says everything will work out, that we’ll raise our baby together and neither of our careers will be put on hold, but I know…” She shook her head. “I’ve seen it happen to too many of my friends, Oscar. They get married, have a baby, and, no matter how determined they are to keep their careers, they start to fall behind. Even if they don’t miss any work and put in the same effort, they’re treated differently. It’s always the mom who gets called by the daycare and the school and—”
“And you could work all that out. I know you. When you want something, nothing holds you back.”
“Maybe.” Tears spilled over her cheeks. “I’m not sure I want the baby, Oscar.” Her voice was low and heartbroken. “No child should be unwanted and unloved, and I can’t…I won’t bring a baby into the world to be ignored and cast aside as a distraction from what really matters to me, my career.”
“You really think you wouldn’t love and adore that baby once she was here?” Molly was driven, but there wasn’t a cruel or heartless bone in her body. The very fact she was so worried proved that.
“Do you know what I thought?” she asked. “When I found out I was pregnant?”
I just waited.
“I was horrified. I wanted to go back to the moment Daniel and I had
been careless and undo it. I cried like my life was over, because that’s how it felt. And then…” She swallowed hard. “I thought if I had an abortion and it got out, my career would be over anyway. I might be a pro-choice candidate, but the world would look at me, someone with the means and the ability to raise a child, and they would think I’d made a selfish choice.”
“It’s not selfish. Everything you’ve said to me has been about the wellbeing of your child.”
“But that wasn’t my first thought. My first thought was of my career. How could I ever be a good mother when I was weighing my child’s life against my career, when I was considering a life-altering decision in terms of what it would do to my political chances?”
“That doesn’t make you a bad person. You love your work and it allows you to change lives, to help people. You do so much good, Molly. Of course, you’d wonder how bringing another person into the world would affect that.”
She let out another sob and then fell against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and let her cry, pressing soft kisses to the top of her head.
When she finally sat up, she looked exhausted. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve been extra-emotional lately and…It felt really good to have someone who knows me the way you do tell me I’m not a horrible person.”
“You are an amazing person. You’ve always been my favorite sister.”
Her grin cut through her tears and relief coursed through me. She was going to be okay. “That’s the same thing you said to all of us when we cried.”
“It never failed to make you smile.”
Her smile slipped. “Thank you for letting me stay here. I just need to figure this out on my own. I need to figure out what I want without Daniel telling me what a wonderful mother I’d make and how much he wants to be a daddy.” She rolled her eyes. “If I knew what I know now, about him being such a total marshmallow, I never would have gone on that second date with him.”
The Good Guy on my Porch (Catalpa Creek #3) Page 9
