Sisters Like Us

by Susan Mallery

  Her mother’s gaze locked with hers. “Not just for the birth, either. We’re all going to help you through the whole thing. You’re going to do just fine.”

  “I want to believe you.”

  “Then maybe it’s time you started listening to me. You never have before, so I figure I’m due.”

  Despite everything, Stacey chuckled. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Bunny kissed her forehead. “You’re my baby girl. I’m not going to let you down and you’re not going to let yourself down, either. Now, let’s have this baby.”

  * * *

  Joule Wray Poenisch lay in her bassinet. She was tightly wrapped in a blanket with a tiny pink cap on her head.

  Becca wrinkled her nose. “Is she comfortable like that? I wouldn’t like not being able to move around. I think it would freak me out.”

  “You didn’t just spend nine months in a womb,” Harper told her, looking at all the babies and letting the wonder of birth fill her with happiness.

  “Gross, Mom.”

  “Is this where I remind you I not only carried you for nine months, but then I gave birth to you through my vagina?”

  Becca covered her ears with her hands and began to loudly hum.

  Harper laughed. “All right. I’m done messing with you. She’s so beautiful.”

  “She’s red and scrunchy.”

  “That’s what newborns look like.”

  “Not in commercials or on TV.”

  “They use older babies,” Harper told her. “You can tell by how they cry. It doesn’t sound the same. A newborn cry is distinct.” She sighed as she sifted through memories. “You cried right away, which was a relief, but you were so small. I was terrified I was going to break you or drop you or something. Plus, I had no idea what to do. The theory of a baby is very different than the reality.”

  “Was Grandma there with you?”

  “She moved in for two weeks and when the time was up, I begged her not to go.” She hugged Becca. “That happens a lot, by the way. One day you’ll be begging me to never leave.”

  “Maybe.” Becca sounded doubtful.

  Harper let it go. There was plenty of time for her to be proven right. “I remember the first time I was alone with you at home. I held you in my arms and you looked up at me and I wondered how on earth I was ever going to know how to be your mother. I was so scared. Sometimes I still am.”

  Becca looked at her. “Why?”

  “Everything is always changing. You’re not the same little girl who raced home from school so we could bake cookies together.” Harper kept her attention on Joule Wray. “You don’t talk to me as much anymore and I’ve tried to figure out when that changed. Do you know?”

  Becca was silent. Harper risked glancing at her and saw her daughter staring at the ground.

  “Was it the divorce?” Harper asked quietly. “Were you mad at me for what happened with your dad?”

  “Some, but not much.” Becca looked at her. “I know you had to get a job and the VA business means you’re home a lot, but you stopped being there. You were always so busy and you never had time for me. One day I realized you just weren’t listening so I stopped talking.”

  Each word was like a knife to the heart and some cut all the way through. She wanted to say it wasn’t true—things hadn’t happened that way, but what if they had? She wanted to defend herself, to say it hadn’t been like that at all. She’d been trying to hold things together, to keep food on the table. She’d been scared and alone and...

  And none of that mattered, she reminded herself. Not to Becca. From her daughter’s perspective, she hadn’t just lost her father, she’d lost her mother, too. At least a little.

  Sure she could say that Becca could have tried harder or been more understanding, but Becca was the kid in the relationship. Once the business had started going, Harper had gotten caught up in growing it. They’d fallen into bad habits that had led to more estrangement.

  Shame wrestled with defensiveness. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I never meant to let you down.”

  “Mom, you didn’t. I’m sorry I said anything. It’s fine.”

  “No.” Harper faced her. “It’s not fine. Given the circumstances, I did okay, but I could have done better. I should have recognized what was happening.”

  “You were caught up in a lot of stuff. I know you were scared when Dad left.”

  And hurt and ashamed and whole lot of other emotions her daughter didn’t need to know about.

  “I was pretty selfish,” Becca added. “I think it comes with being a teenager. I don’t mean to be, but it’s hard to think about other people sometimes.”

  Harper pulled her close and hugged her. “Maybe we can try to do better.” She drew back and smiled at her daughter. “Ignore that. What I meant to say was I’m going to do better. I want us to be close again. I want to know what’s going on with school and your friends and Ashton and the classes you’re taking Jazz to.”

  Becca started to cry and hugged her hard. “I want that, too, Mom. A lot.”

  They hung on to each other for a long time. Harper hoped it wasn’t too late, that they weren’t just saying words but would actually follow through with their plan.

  If it was up to her, the answer would be yes.

  * * *

  The dog agility class was more than a little intimidating. The equipment at the obedience school was a lot more heavy-duty than the used stuff Becca had bought, and the course was laid out differently. Becca had watched a few YouTube videos and done some reading, but still hadn’t been able to figure out the best way to use her equipment. She hoped the class would help her with that.

  There were eight other dog owners, most of them way older than her. She noticed a teenager about her age and walked over to her. The petite blonde smiled.

  “Hi, I’m Shara.”

  “Becca. This is Jazz.”

  “Hi, Jazz.” Shara patted the black-and-white border collie at her side. “This is Ivan.” He was a handsome dog with one blue eye and one brown eye.

  Becca kept her grip on Jazz’s leash as the two dogs sniffed each other’s butts and seemed to get acquainted.

  “Is this your first agility class?” Shara asked.

  “Uh-huh. I don’t know much about it, but I wanted to do something Jazz would like. She’s happier when she’s busy.”

  “My aunt is seriously into it,” Shara admitted. “She competes and everything. I took one of her older dogs to a couple of competitions and it was fun.” She sighed. “My mom raises Yorkies. The house is filled with moms and dads and puppies all the time. We have to socialize them and I know it sounds fun, but it gets to be a drag. I’ve been asking for a big dog and finally they agreed.” She patted Ivan again. “He’s stubborn but really smart.”

  Becca tried to picture Ivan with tiny Yorkie puppies underfoot and couldn’t. “He does okay with the babies?”

  Shara laughed. “Border collies are herding animals. He’s great with them. As soon as they’re old enough to start exploring, he goes on duty to keep them safe. The moms totally trust him to handle things while they take a nap. It’s pretty funny.”

  Shara looked at the layout, then back at Becca. “I’m saving to get a few things for the backyard, so I can train Ivan at home.”

  “I bought some used equipment a couple of weeks ago,” Becca said. “I’m still figuring it out. You can bring Ivan over if you want to practice together.”

  “That would be great. You know, we’re really too old to start competing at the junior level. There are seriously little kids out there with their dogs. But I’m still looking forward to trying.”

  “Me, too.”

  The class began. The instructor took them through the weave poles and the teeter-totter. Jazz was familiar with both and took her turn quickly and easily. Becca picked up a few tips for trai
ning Jazz and met a few more of the dog owners. Everyone was nice and friendly.

  When the Corgi mix bolted, Shara sent Ivan after him. Becca couldn’t believe how Ivan got in front of the Corgi and herded him back to his owner.

  “How did you do that?”

  Shara grinned. “Last summer my folks sent me to a cattle ranch where they train dogs and their owners to herd. Ivan loved it and I got to hang out with cute cowboys.”

  They exchanged numbers and agreed to get together to practice in a couple of days. Becca was just about to start the walk home when Ashton pulled up and called out.

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  Becca blushed as she waved. Shara sighed.

  “Is that your boyfriend? He’s totally hot. Seriously hot.” She grinned. “Sorry. I don’t mean anything by that. It’s just how I talk.”

  Becca laughed. “It’s okay. Ashton is kind of hot.” And sweet and affectionate and just good to her.

  She introduced Shara and Ivan before they left, then opened the back door for Jazz and slid in next to Ashton.

  “Did I know you were going to stop by?” she asked after he’d kissed her.

  “I’m a surprise.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “How was class?” he asked.

  “Really good. I met Shara and Ivan, of course, and we learned a lot. Jazz was an excellent student, weren’t you, sweet girl?”

  Jazz barked in agreement.

  “Shara and I are going to practice together and there’s a beginners competition in August the instructor thinks we should sign up for.”

  “Are you going to?”

  “Yeah. It’s scary to think about, but why not? It’ll be good for us.”

  He chuckled. “I’m glad the competition is in August so I can be there.”

  Right, because he was leaving for MIT in early September and would be gone forever.

  “Don’t,” Ashton said quietly as he pulled up at a red light. “It will go fast.”

  “What?”

  “The time I’m at college. One of the reasons I’m working as many hours as I can is to save enough money to fly home for Thanksgiving.” He shrugged. “Christmas makes sense—it’s a longer break and I’m sure Stacey and Kit planned to send me a ticket, but Thanksgiving is different.”

  She felt that if she weren’t held in by her seat belt, she might float away. Happiness and hope and love all made her weightless.

  “To, um, see me?” she asked cautiously.

  He reached for her hand. “Yes, Becca. To see you.”

  She wanted to ask how much he cared about her and if he’d had other girlfriends he’d liked more and where he saw them in two years and if there were other good colleges by MIT because maybe she could apply there, but instead she told herself to breathe and enjoy the moment.

  They arrived home far too quickly. As Ashton pulled up in front of the house, Becca saw a familiar car in the driveway. She knew her mom was gone and Dean didn’t work on weekends, so her dad had no way to get in the house. She wondered how long he’d been waiting and what he could possibly have to say to her.

  “Who’s that?” Ashton asked.

  “My father.”

  “You don’t look happy.”

  “I’m not.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  BECCA THOUGHT MAYBE she should explain her reaction to Ashton, then told herself it didn’t matter. He, of all people, would understand why she could never be sure what to expect from her father. He said all the right things, but when it came to showing up...he didn’t.

  All three of them got out of their cars at the same time. Becca walked toward the porch, letting her dad come to her. Ashton was right beside her, as was Jazz. The Doberman kept glancing at Terence as he approached, as if ready to protect her pack from the man who had been so sick on the drive to Mischief Bay.

  “Hey, Becca,” her dad said as he got closer. “I was hoping to catch you.”

  Why? Only she didn’t ask the question in part because it was stupid and in part because she was afraid he might tell her something she didn’t want to hear.

  “Hi, Dad.” She pulled her house key out of her pocket and opened the door. “This is Ashton. Ashton, my father Terence Szymanski.” She held in a smile. “And you remember Jazz, Dad.”

  Her father kept his distance from the Doberman. “Nice to meet you, Ashton.” He nodded at Jazz, who walked through the open door, but stayed close. “Becca, I’d like to talk to you about a few things.” He looked from the dog to Ashton and back. “Maybe out here, because of my allergies.”

  “I’ll take Jazz into the backyard,” Ashton said. “Just shout if you need anything.”

  And he would be there to protect her, she thought as he closed the door.

  “Who’s your young man?” her father asked as he took a seat on the porch steps. Becca settled next to him.

  “Ashton is Kit’s nephew. He’s staying with him and Stacey until he goes to MIT in September.”

  “Are you two, ah, seeing each other?”

  “Yes, Dad. We’re dating.”

  “Oh.” Her father stared at his car. “I didn’t know.”

  “Mom does. She’s fine with it.”

  She wanted to say more, like if he ever bothered to see her, he might know things about her life. But he didn’t care—not anymore. He had Alicia and their new life.

  “Okay, then I guess I’ll talk to her.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Becca, come on. Give me a break. I’ve been gone for two weeks on my honeymoon and before that I was getting ready for my wedding. I’ve had stuff to do.”

  “Right, and before that you were buying a house and before that you were busy dating and before that, you were moving out and getting settled. It’s been two years since you left us. Two years and you never have time for me.” She stood and glared at him. “How do you think that makes me feel? You were supposed to help me learn to drive, but you never even showed up. It’s not like you have five kids and you can say you forgot. There’s just me.”

  He met her gaze and nodded slowly. “I know. You’re right and I’m sorry.”

  “You always say that. You tell me over and over again you’re sorry, but nothing changes. Mom messes up but when she apologizes, it means something. At least she tries.”

  Her father tensed. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t bring your mother into this.”

  “Why not? She’s part of my family, too. She takes care of me.”

  “I take care of you, as well. Who do you think pays for half the things you have?”

  Her eyes filled with tears as she hurried up the stairs and grabbed the door handle. “I’m not something you pay for. I’m your kid.”

  Before she could go inside, her father reached for her.

  “I’m sorry.” He touched her arm. “Becca, that came out wrong. Please talk to me. I’m really sorry.”

  She looked into his blue eyes. They were the same color as hers—a little lighter than her mom’s. She wanted to bolt, but told herself that wouldn’t fix anything.

  “You keep saying it,” she whispered. “I wish you’d stop.”

  “Me, too. Please give me another chance. I swear, I won’t let you down. I love you, Becca. You’re my daughter and you will always mean the world to me.”

  More than Alicia? Only she recognized the danger of asking that particular question. She had a bad feeling she wouldn’t much enjoy the answer.

  “Okay. I will, but you have to promise not to blow me off again.”

  “Cross my heart. We’ll have dinner together next week. That’s what I came by to say. That I miss you and want us to spend some time together. So dinner? Does that work?”

  She hesitated before nodding slowly. “Sure.”

  He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “
I’ll text you a date and time.”

  She nodded. He walked to his car, waved and was gone. For a second, she just stood there, willing herself to believe everything was going to be okay between them. That he got it and everything would work out. Only he’d broken promises so many times, she wasn’t sure she still had the faith to believe in him.

  * * *

  One week after leaving the hospital, Stacey couldn’t believe how much she appreciated and admired her mother. Bunny had always been a ridiculous figure in her life. Even as a child, she’d been dismissive of all the things her mother knew how to do. But after being home with Joule for seven incredibly long days, Stacey knew her mom was more than amazing. She was a hero.

  The house was chaos. No reading, no books, no videos had prepared her for the keening sound that was her daughter’s cry. Worse, every cry sounded exactly the same. There was no difference between Joule Wray being hungry or needing her diaper changed or wanting to be burped. The adults were expected to figure out what was wrong and fix it. Unbelievably, sometimes she seemed to cry for no reason. None! There was simply nothing wrong and yet there she was with that sharp, ear-piercing scream, tormenting them all.

  While Stacey and Kit looked at each other in alarm, Bunny clucked and murmured and sang until JW—as they’d taken to calling her—was quiet again. Bunny had skills and patience and an unnatural ability to exist on practically no sleep. And the most shocking thing of all? She said JW was an easy baby who rarely cried. How was that possible? If JW was one of the good ones, how had the species survived? Wouldn’t other mothers have either run away or refused to have more children?

  Stacey finished cleaning the kitchen. She’d already eaten and showered and dressed. She liked to keep busy, so as to avoid JW as much as possible. Bay wandered through the kitchen.

  “I don’t know how you do it,” Stacey told her dog. “It’s a nightmare.”

  Bay gave her a calming look, as if saying it would get better. After all, her puppies were already weaned and being adopted. In a couple more days, Bay would be an empty-nester and life was good.