Evening Stars

by Susan Mallery

  She paused to suck in a breath, then exhaled. “Not you, Bertie. You pay your own way.” The other woman had a small inheritance and used her monthly checks to pay for her share of the mortgage, utilities and food.

  Bertie’s dark eyes widened. “I didn’t know,” she admitted. “Bonnie’s offered to make me a partner in the store, but I always refused because I assumed you were all living off that money. I thought it was bringing income into the family.”

  “It’s not,” Nina said flatly.

  Averil shifted on the bed. “Nina’s the one who paid for my college,” she said quietly. “Mom didn’t contribute anything.” She turned to her sister. “Why didn’t you say something about the house? I would have helped.”

  “It’s not your responsibility.”

  “But it’s yours?” Averil’s mouth flattened. “So only you get to contribute? This is my family, too, and I would be happy to help out.”

  Nina rubbed her forehead. “No. I didn’t mean it like that. You weren’t here. I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “No. You want to be a martyr all on your own.” She turned to Bertie. “It’s not about helping, it’s about taking control.”

  Nina stiffened, unprepared for the attack. “That’s not fair. I’m struggling here, and I didn’t want you to have to worry. How does that make me the bad guy?”

  “I deserved to know what was happening, and you didn’t trust me with the information.”

  “You didn’t want to know,” Nina snapped, knowing that being less than a hundred percent was weighing on her. But she couldn’t seem to keep her mouth shut. “All you care about is yourself. Look at what happened when you came here. You didn’t ask if your visit was convenient, you simply announced you were coming back for an unspecified amount of time and showed up. You can see what a shithole this place is, but did you once think to find out why?”

  Averil scrambled to her feet. “That’s not fair.”

  “Isn’t it? I’m the bad guy for wanting to make sure Bertie and Mom don’t get screwed out of a ten-million dollar painting, but it’s unfair to ask you to open your eyes and see what’s going on here?”

  “I didn’t know you paid for everything,” Averil yelled. “You should have told me.”

  “Girls,” Bertie said, also coming to her feet. “This isn’t helping.”

  “And Nina’s all about the helping,” Averil said bitterly. “You know what she really hates about the painting? Not you and Mom getting cheated. That would make her happy, because she could be right and still be in charge. If you two have all that money, you won’t need her, and then she’ll have nothing.” She turned to Nina. “My God, you’re still living at home. Why don’t you have a life? You’re the one who’s allowed Mom not to grow up. She would have figured it out if you’d let her. But you couldn’t stand not to be indispensable.”

  Nina stood and glared right back. “Sure. I’m the one with problems. You want to look in the mirror, Averil? What are you doing here? Don’t you have a husband who’s wondering where the hell you are? Don’t tell me what I’m doing wrong until you figure out your own life.”

  The bedroom door flew open, and Bonnie stood in the doorway. “Stop it!” she yelled. “Stop fighting. We’re a family. Act like it.”

  Averil brushed past her. “Give it up, Mom. It’s way too late for you to try to be in charge now.”

  * * *

  “What’s wrong?” Dylan asked, passing Nina a take-out bag.

  It was her second day back at work, and he’d shown up just in time for her lunch break. Nina had been in the process of leaving a message for Kyle when she’d seen the other man walking toward the office. She’d hung up quickly, aware she didn’t do the “two man” thing well.

  They settled on the picnic bench in Andi’s backyard. Nina knew there were plenty of windows facing their direction but didn’t think their meal would provide much entertainment. She and Dylan were going to eat and talk and nothing else.

  “You don’t want to know,” Nina said as she unwrapped the chicken salad sandwich from the Blackberry Island Inn. “Family stuff mostly.”

  He handed her a soda but didn’t speak.

  Nina sighed. “We had a big fight a couple of days ago, and now no one is speaking. Averil got on me, I got on her, Mom showed up and tried to make peace and it all went to hell.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Me, too.” She stuck a straw in the take-out drink container. “It’s that stupid painting. It’s changing everything. I just want Mom and Bertie to make a sensible decision where they don’t get screwed.”

  She thought about what her sister had said—that she secretly wanted them to fail so she could be right. Averil was wrong, she told herself. She wanted to break free and be on her own. She wanted to figure out what her dreams were and why she had so much trouble following them.

  She shook her head. “Can we please stop talking about me? Thank you for all your help while I was sick.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m sorry about the throwing-up part. That was gross for both of us.”

  He grinned. “I’ve seen worse. Besides, you were a low-key patient. You mostly slept.”

  “You stayed with me those first two nights. I would have been okay.”

  “I wanted to be sure.”

  She studied his face, the shape of his mouth and once again wondered what would have happened if she’d been home the weekend he’d come looking for her. To think that her entire destiny hinged on her decision to go to a bar on a Wednesday night. That was hardly fair.

  Of course, a case could be made she was handing over too much power to Dylan. She could have made her own life-changing decisions if she’d wanted. But as Averil had so eloquently put it a couple of days ago, she was still living at home.

  “What did you decide about your bedroom set?” she asked. “Talk your mother out of shopping with you?”

  “I told her she was crossing the line. That my furniture was my business.”

  “Impressive. How did she take it?”

  “She started crying, which made me feel like the worst son ever.”

  Nina stretched her hand across the table and touched the back of his hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, we got through it. She’s not going to meddle, and I’m going to go over to dinner tomorrow night.” He turned his hands so her fingertips rested on his palm, then squeezed them. “My parents are basically good people. But every now and then, an angry estrangement sounds like a great idea.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Your mom still upset about the painting?”

  “How did you know about that?”

  He shrugged, and Nina realized that he’d been in her house a couple of days while she’d been sick.

  “Bonnie said something,” she murmured, both embarrassed and frustrated. While she acknowledged that no one could control her mother, it would be nice if she could at least be reasoned with.

  “She complained about you taking the painting,” he admitted. “When I pointed out that I’d been the one driving, she got quiet. Then Bertie came into the room and the subject changed. At some point she has to understand why you did it.”

  “Oh, but that’s logical and that’s not her thing. It’s times like this I think I should have simply gotten away while I could.”

  The wrong thing to say, she thought. Because talk like that had her thinking about her fight with Averil. They still weren’t speaking, either. Of course it made for quiet evenings.

  “You could still go away,” he told her.

  “Trying to get rid of me?”

  “Wondering if you’re happy.”

  Not a conversation she wanted to be having right now. She pointed to the tree behind them. “Oh, look. Is that a toucan?”

  Dylan grinned without turning around. “Fine. I’ll change the subject. Maybe some weekend we can head into Seattle and catch a Mariners game. We could go Saturday and check out the Chi
huly exhibit, go to dinner, then head to the game on Sunday.”

  If Nina had been swallowing, she would have choked. He spoke so casually, she thought. As if his suggestion was completely normal. But a weekend in Seattle with an overnight stay wasn’t normal. Nor was it simple. Was he asking her to go with him, as in they would be staying in the same room? Were they going as friends, each responsible for his or her own sleeping accommodations? Was he asking her out on a date weekend?

  Thoughts crowded into her brain and pushed each other around. Yes, Dylan had kissed her and she’d kissed him back, but that wasn’t the same as sleeping together. Shouldn’t they start more slowly—like with holding hands or something? Or was she reading too much into the invitation?

  Before she could figure out what to say, the back door to the house opened. Andi stepped out into the warm afternoon, a bowl in her hands.

  “Hi, I heard you were eating outside and I thought I’d—” She spotted Dylan and came to a stop. “Oh. Sorry. No one said you had company.”

  “Don’t run off,” Dylan said, shifting to make room for Andi on the bench. “Join us.”

  Andi glanced at Nina who nodded slightly, giving her approval of the suggestion. With a third person at the table, an answer wouldn’t be required. Right now time seemed like a really good thing.

  * * *

  Averil looked at the display on the large dining room table in Blackberry Preserves and knew something wasn’t right. The linens, she wondered. No, it was the way she’d stacked the plates. There were too many, and they looked cluttered. Less is more, she thought, reaching for a couple of bowls. A philosophy her mother would never embrace.

  The bell over the door chimed, and she looked up as a tiny Asian woman walked into the store. She was well under five feet, with delicate features. Her clothes were shapeless—a tunic over loose dark pants.

  “Can I help you?” Averil asked with a smile.

  The woman turned to her and shook her head. Her lips were pursed, as if she’d just tasted something unpleasant.

  “Cindy work here?” the woman asked in a thick accent.

  Averil did her best to keep her eyes from widening. Was this really the evil mother-in-law? The one who made Cindy’s life miserable?

  “Yes, ma’am, ah, Mrs. Yoo. She’s not here right now. She went to the bank.”

  Now that they were selling merchandise, there were actual receipts to be totaled and deposited. It was kind of exciting.

  The woman nodded. “Good. I’m glad she’s not here.” She held out a small brown bag. “She forgot her lunch. She’ll get hungry. You take it for her and don’t tell her I was here.”

  Averil tilted her head. “You don’t want Cindy to know you brought her lunch?”

  “No.”

  “But it’s so nice of you. You don’t want Cindy to know—” Averil paused to study the tiny woman. She saw how Mrs. Yoo was taking in the store, as if memorizing what it was like here.

  “Cindy works hard?” she asked.

  “Yes. She’s wonderful.”

  One corner of Mrs. Yoo’s mouth twitched, as if she was going to smile, then the stern expression returned. “Be careful. Cindy’s lazy.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “I do.”

  This was the strangest conversation ever, Averil thought. Why would the woman come by if she hated Cindy so much? Why bother bringing her lunch? Unless it was all some strange game she couldn’t understand.

  “Cindy always speaks so highly of you,” Averil lied. “You must be very proud of your successful son and grandchildren.”

  “Yes. My son is a good boy.”

  “Yeah, I’m not buying it,” Averil told her. “I think you care about her, but for some reason you don’t want her to know.”

  The woman drew in a breath and squared her shoulders. “I don’t care about her. She a terrible wife.”

  “Really? After all these years and two grandchildren? Then why did you bother to bring her lunch? You should be happy that she’s going hungry.”

  “She’s too thin. Tell her to eat it all.” Mrs. Yoo started for the front door, then turned back. “She’s happy here?”

  Averil nodded. “I hope so. She seems to be. We would be lost without her.”

  Mrs. Yoo slowly nodded her head. “Me, too.”

  * * *

  “I’ve decided not to be mad at you anymore,” Bonnie announced.

  Nina looked up from the book she’d been reading. Her mother stood in the doorway of Nina’s bedroom. “Okay,” she said slowly. “I guess that’s good.”

  Her mother strolled into her bedroom and sat in the chair by the desk. “I know you’ve been upset.” She smiled. “You don’t have to be anymore.”

  Nina recognized the trap. “You’re saying you forgive me.”

  Her mother beamed. “Exactly.”

  “Only I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  The smile began to fade. “We don’t need to discuss this anymore, Nina.”

  “I think we do. We had an agreement about the painting. Everyone thought it was a good idea to keep quiet until you and Bertie decided what to do. Only you changed the rules and when that led to consequences, then you got mad. What did you want us to do? Hold the painting in the house so someone could steal it?”

  “It would have been fine.”

  Nina put down her book and sighed. “Do you really believe that? You would be perfectly comfortable leaving an expensive work of art here with no alarm, no nothing?”

  “You have to believe in the basic goodness of people.”

  Nina rolled her eyes. “If you’re going to act like you don’t get what you did, Mom, I don’t want to have this conversation. If you want to say you forgive me, then fine, but I’m not going to say I’m sorry. I took care of things because you didn’t leave me a choice.”

  Her mother’s mouth tightened. “I don’t know why you’re being so difficult.”

  “I’m being honest.”

  “That’s just an excuse to be cruel.”

  “And here we go again.” She leaned forward. “Why can’t we talk? If you believe in the basic goodness of people, why do you see me as cruel?”

  Bonnie’s hands fluttered, then settled by her sides. “You take everything so literally.”

  “You’re my mom. I listen to what you say and when you talk like that, you hurt my feelings. You want to be free to say whatever pops into your head at the moment and then not have it matter later. We’re back to consequences. I wish...”

  Nina sank back against her pillows. There was no point in any of this, she told herself. Bonnie would never see things the way a regular adult would. She wanted to be a child forever. It was easier that way. Let someone else take responsibility.

  It was part of who she was. Like being tall or female. Some people were good at math, others weren’t. Bonnie liked being taken care of, and she was good at making sure that happened.

  Her mother crossed to the bed and sat on the edge. “What do you wish?” she asked gently.

  “I wish you were more like other moms. I wish you’d admit I did the right thing with the painting. I wish you’d see me as someone who cares about you rather than the person who stands between you and what you want.”

  Bonnie pressed her lips together. Unexpected tears filled her eyes. “I know you do, Nina.” She held out her hands. “I love you so much. It’s just...”

  “What I want isn’t as important as what you want,” Nina told her. “You’ll never choose what’s best for me over what’s best for you.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You won’t. There’s a difference. You’re not going to change.” Nina paused as that last sentence spun around in her head. Bonnie was never going to change. If Nina was waiting for the great revelation to alter her mother’s behavior, she would find the end of eternity first.

  She knew there was more important information in that statement, but she needed more time to think it over.

  “It’s okay,�
� she said, faking a smile.

  That seemed to be enough for Bonnie. She patted Nina’s knee. “Are you still fighting with your sister?”

  “We’re not fighting, but if you’re asking about us having a meaningful conversation—not right now.”

  “You need to be more forgiving of people, Nina. We aren’t all like you.”

  “I get that, Mom.”

  Bonnie smiled at her. “You’ve always taken such good care of us.”

  Which kind of explained the trapped feeling she’d lived with for so long.

  Her mother leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll leave you to your book.”

  She stood and left.

  Nina slumped back on the pillows and tried to figure out where the missteps had occurred. She knew she hadn’t had a lot of control over what had happened when she’d been a kid, but what about since then? Weren’t her actions all her fault?

  Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and saw a text from Kyle.

  Back in Everett. Miss you. Can I see you?

  Nina scrambled to her feet and reached for her large tote. In a matter of a couple of minutes, she’d changed her clothes, brushed her teeth, eaten enough to get her through the night and was heading to the door.

  She didn’t know what Kyle wanted from her, but right now she didn’t care. It was enough that in his bed, she would be able to forget.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  LATE SATURDAY MORNING, Nina decided to tackle the weeding in the yard. She put on ratty jeans and a T-shirt, along with a big hat that would protect her from any sun seeping through the high clouds. By two she’d made progress and was stiff, but mentally more relaxed. Her family might still make her insane, but at least the garden looked better.

  She stood and stretched. She was hot and sticky, and she had scratches all along her arms. All proof of hard work, she thought happily.

  Bertie stepped out onto the back porch. “You’ve done a wonderful job.”

  “You could have helped.”

  The other woman smiled. “And spoil your fun?”

  “There’s enough fun for all.”