She added too much detergent to the washer and closed the lid.
“Did you go out last night?” I asked her.
She punched buttons on the washing machine.
“I just wondered if you went out to meet Chris or something. You know you can bring her here. No one’s going to be, like, horrified or anything, if your girlfriend spends the night. You guys can even have my room. I can sleep in yours. If you want two beds,” I added.
She pushed the start button, and I heard water pour in.
“Last night I heard a car start in the driveway. Two thirtyish. Later, I got up to check on McKenzie and get a glass of water in the kitchen. When I looked out the window, I saw that your Jeep was gone.”
The back door opened, and Aurora walked in, clad in her old red bathing suit, still glistening with water. She’d rinsed off in the shower under the house. She was still wearing her ugly swim cap.
“It’s not like you have to sneak around with us. We’re big girls.”
“Where you sneaking to?” Aurora asked Janine. She walked past us, into the kitchen, leaving wet footprints behind.
“Mom caught me sneaking out last night,” Janine said.
Aurora looked at Janine. “You tell her about Maura?”
I grabbed the mop from the corner of the laundry room and followed Aurora into the kitchen, mopping behind her. “What about Maura?” I asked, keeping my voice low, just in case McKenzie woke. The rest of the house was quiet, though. All I could hear was the click-click of the ceiling fan in the living room.
“I thought we weren’t going to say anything.” Janine followed us.
“I said we didn’t need to tell McKenzie.” Aurora went to the kitchen sink. She could plainly see that she was leaving wet footprints on the hardwood. And see me mopping up behind her. She didn’t care.
“I was going to tell Lilly,” Aurora said. “You thought we weren’t going to tell Lilly?”
Janine brought her finger to her lips and cut her eyes in the direction of the front of the house. “She’s asleep.”
Aurora grabbed a glass from the drain board, flipped on the faucet, and watched it fill.
“What?” I mopped up the last footprint, directly behind Aurora. “What’s going on with Maura?” I heard the sound of the downstairs bedroom door open, and I glanced that way. All of us looked that way.
McKenzie walked into the kitchen. “Hey, guys.” There was still a groggy sound to her voice. “What’s going on?”
“I’m going to grab a shower.” As Aurora walked past McKenzie, she leaned over and brushed a quick kiss across her cheek.
I followed Aurora, wiping up four more footprints, then surrendering. Her feet were almost dry.
“Going to get more propane.” Janine hooked her thumb in the direction of the back deck. “Fritz! Come, boy.”
I heard the dog rise in the other room and his foot pads as he bounded for the kitchen.
“How about a nice glass of iced tea?” I asked McKenzie. “You can keep me company while I make the baked beans.”
She glanced at Aurora, who was already out of the kitchen. Then at Janine, in the doorway to the laundry room, then me, standing there with my mop. “What’s going on?” she asked, looking concerned.
“I was trying to get some good dirt on Chris, but Janine’s not putting out.”
“Oh, I bet she’s putting out,” Aurora hollered from the living room.
Everyone laughed, and I walked toward the laundry room with the mop. I cut my eyes at Janine. Whatever was going on with Maura, they were going to have to tell me. I wasn’t going to be left out.
16
McKenzie
“So what names are you thinking about?” I watched Lilly through my iPhone.
She pointed at me. “Is that on?”
“Yes, it’s on.”
She smiled into the camera shyly. “I shouldn’t say. Matt doesn’t want us to tell anyone. He wants it to be a surprise.”
“How are we going to decide what to name our baby if we don’t even know the choices?” I asked.
We were sitting on the steps that lead from the house down to the beach. It was getting dark. Out on the beach, we had already heard firecrackers going off and seen two rockets shoot into the sky, explode, and then fizzle. Still no sign of my girls, who promised, who swore to me that they were coming for the town’s public fireworks. Other than a text from Mia, I hadn’t heard from either of them since dinner the other night.
“Come on, you have to tell us,” I told Lilly. “We won’t tell Matt,” I whispered.
We both giggled. That was one of the things I loved about being with Lilly. I could actually giggle with her.
“Come on,” I cajoled. “Girl’s name.”
“You won’t tell him I told?”
“He’ll never know. It will be our secret.”
She leaned close to me, and her exotic features filled the frame. “Brunhilda Chrysanthemum.”
I lowered the phone with it still recording. “You’re kidding.” I know my eyes were huge. (Eyebrows drawn in over the little pricklies, just sprouting.) “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
She looked at me, her face entirely serious. I didn’t know what to say. Surely she was kidding. But . . . what if she wasn’t? Could I go to my deathbed letting her name the only child she would ever have Brunhilda Chrysanthemum?
I must have looked horrified because she started to laugh. “You should see the look on your face.”
I scowled and raised the phone. “Come on. Tell us your choices so far. The names you really like.”
She exhaled and looked up at me, her face so bright with promise. “Let’s see: Aster, Olivia, Joy or . . . McKenzie.” She smiled.
I hit the button on the phone and stopped recording. I lowered the phone. “Lilly, you can’t name your baby after me.”
“I can if I want.” She stroked her belly. She was wearing capris and a T-shirt that said “Baby On Board” with a surfboard on it. “I can name her anything I want. I can name her McKenzie Janine Aurora if I want.”
I couldn’t tell if she was serious. Clearly she was joking about giving the baby our three names, but was she really considering calling her McKenzie? I wasn’t sure how I felt about her naming her baby after me. On the one hand, I was flattered. On the other hand, I had to think about the child. Who wants to be the kid named after her mother’s dead best friend. Or best dead friend. “How about boy names?” I asked.
“Elijah, Roland, or Arthur.”
I leaned over her belly, cupping my hands around my mouth to talk to her baby. “You better hope you’re a girl.”
She pushed me away, laughing. “You don’t like my names?”
“Of course I like them.” I looked up, meeting her gaze. “I’d like any name you chose, because it will be your baby’s name, Lilly.”
She clasped my hand and peered into my face. “Would you really mind . . . if I have a girl and I name her McKenzie?”
“I don’t know,” I said, thinking that I’d have to consider the idea later. When I was alone. “Of course I’ll never know it if I take a sudden turn and don’t—”
“Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.” She squeezed my hand. “I want you there, when this baby is born. I need you. I want all three of you there.”
I heard the sound of a car pulling into the gravel drive behind the house. Somewhere inside, Fritz woofed. Lilly stood. “They’re here!” She clapped her hands together. “Goody, they’re here.” (She was the only forty-something-year-old woman I knew who could say “goody” and make it work.) “I’m going to take the drinks down.” Janine and Aurora were already on the beach. Almost an hour ago, they’d taken chairs down for all of us.
Lilly reached for the cooler on the top step; she’d already loaded it with sodas and beer. “We’ll just do the s’mores after the fireworks.”
“Sounds good.” As Lilly went down the flight of steps, I looked up toward the bright lights of the house. It was my
job to shut out all the lights before I went down to the beach, to see the fireworks better. I could hear Fritz in the kitchen, chuffing at the back door. A minute later, I heard the door open and Mia’s and Maura’s voices.
Fritz trotted out onto the deck, leading the girls.
“Hey, Mom!”
I stood, stuffing my hands into my UD hoodie front pocket. I was wearing one of Janine’s old baseball caps. “Hey, sweetie.”
Mia came down the steps toward me. Maura was right behind her. Fritz stopped at the top of the staircase as if there were an invisible barrier. No dogs on the beach, Memorial Day to Labor Day, a law he and Janine both heartily disagreed with.
Mia gave me a quick peck on the cheek and passed me on the steps.
“Hey, Mom.” Maura copied her sister.
“JAL on the beach?” Janine, Aurora, and Lilly. They called them JAL sometimes.
“Yup. Waiting for you. We’ve all been waiting for you for a while,” I called after them, unable to keep from being a mother for just a second. “I was expecting you an hour ago.”
“See you on the beach, Mom.” Then Mia threw over her shoulder, “Oh. Dad’s here. He wants to say hi.”
I looked up the steps, then down. The girls were disappearing into the dark. I looked back up again just in time to see my ex-husband walk into the doorway between the living room and the deck.
“Jared,” I managed after a second. I adjusted the ball cap. There was no way in hell I was going to let him see my bald head. I was glad I’d put on some makeup. There was nothing I could do about the stubby eyelashes, but at least my face had a little color. I moved up a step.
“Mack.” He was holding the baby on his hip. Peaches. She’d be a year old at Halloween.
“Oh, my gosh, Jared. She’s gorgeous.” I came up the steps onto the deck and leaned over to get a better look at her. “Hello there, sweetie.”
The baby had Jared’s bright blue eyes and her Home Depot mother’s red-blond hair. (Clearly, Jared has a soft spot for redheads.) She could have been one of my girls. “So beautiful,” I crooned, reaching out for her tiny hand.
And, for a minute, I forgot about how angry I was with Jared for cheating on me. For leaving me for a woman with fewer wrinkles and better boobs. For leaving our girls. For not coming back to me when he found out I was dying. After all, it would have been no skin off his back. He could have left his wife for me, then gone back to her after the funeral. And I would never have known the difference, right?
Jared looked down at his daughter and grinned. “Yeah, I think she’s pretty cool.”
The little girl was dressed in a pale green shirt and white overalls that only came to her knees. Her chubby feet were bare. She looked at me and smiled a perfect baby smile.
I was momentarily mesmerized. I couldn’t take my gaze from hers. They were Mia’s and Maura’s eyes.
I suddenly felt light-headed. Where had the years gone? Where had my life gone?
I found my voice. “How are you today, Miss Peaches? Having a good day?” I knew they’d had a picnic at their house with family. Home Depot’s family. Jared’s new family. “Have fun with your sisters?”
“You want to hold her?”
“I . . . sure.” I looked up at him, then at Peaches. “You think she’ll come to me?” I held out my hands, then let them fall to my sides.
“Of course.” He held her out to me.
I hesitated, then reached for her. Jared lowered her weight into my arms, and for a moment I was caught between the scent of him and the scent of her. I closed my eyes and brought her to my chest, just for a second.
I sometimes wonder, when I lay awake in the middle of the night, trying to decide if I want to cry, what would happen if I met Jared now. At my age. If he asked me out, would I go? If I didn’t know him and just met him, wherever it was that women my age met men, would I find him as attractive as I had the night I met him in that bar in Philadelphia after an Eagles game?
He wasn’t as good-looking as he had once been. His hair was starting to thin on top and he now wore it short and spiky. His waist had thickened, and he had a little bit of a beer gut. He was aging quicker than a lot of forty-five-year-old men. All the work outside, I supposed. The elements. He definitely wasn’t the same man he had been at twenty-six. But when I closed my eyes . . . when I smelled him . . .
When I smelled him, I thought yes, I would go out with him if he asked me. As crazy as it sounded, I would go out with the man. I’d probably sleep with him. That thought made me sad.
I opened my eyes but didn’t look at him, realizing how silly it was to think about such things. A waste of time, time I didn’t have.
I shifted Peaches to my hip so I could look more closely at her. She had fair skin and long lashes and a pink, pursed mouth. She reached for one of my earrings. “Oops,” I murmured, tilting my head so that it was out of reach. “No earring, sweetie, that would hurt.”
She made a baby sound and touched my T-shirt with a tiny finger.
I glanced up at Jared. I hadn’t seen him since the girls got out of school for the summer. End-of-the-year awards assembly at school. Now that Mia and Maura were driving, when we had to discuss something about our girls, it was on the phone. “How are you?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. He was only a little taller than me, not a tall man. He was wearing khaki shorts, flip-flops, and an Ocean City White Marlin Open T-shirt. He was a big fisherman. Entered the tournament every year. Had for years.
He nodded, clearly feeling awkward. “I’m good. We’re good.”
“You get the brakes fixed on the girls’ car?”
He bobbed his head. “Appointment Monday.”
I nodded, deciding there was no point in bitching him out. We’d fought a lot. When he first left. Before he left. I was so angry. So bitter. I felt like such a failure. I felt as if he had made me a failure because he hadn’t been willing to stay and fight for his family.
Now . . . I was happy to see that he seemed happy. “Mia’s got SATs in two weeks. It’s a Saturday. In Dover. Make sure she asks off at work.” I bounced Peaches on my hip. “I don’t know what to do about Maura. We can’t make her take it.”
“She likes the new restaurant. Her boss says she can start working a few hours a week in the kitchen.” He shrugged. “Maybe something will come of it. She says maybe she’d like to be a chef.”
“There’s an associate degree in culinary arts available at Del Tech in Dover. Maybe she should look at that.”
“Maybe,” he agreed.
We were both quiet then. I showed Peaches my bracelet. Lilly had given it to me for my thirty-fifth birthday. It was a lovely silver cuff, my name and hers engraved on the inside. I wondered if I should give it back to her. She might like to have it . . . later.
“Well, guess . . . I should be going,” Jared said. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” He glanced away, then back at me. Hesitated. “How are you doing, Mack?”
“How do I look like I’m doing, Jared?” There was a sharpness to my tone that was ugly and mean, and I didn’t care.
To my surprise, his eyes got watery. He blinked and looked down at his precious daughter. Instead of feeling good at having gotten the best of him, I felt like a total ass.
“Sorry. I’m okay,” I murmured. “Doing okay.” I pressed my lips together. Released them. “Hanging in there. Hanging on.”
His head bobbed again. “You’ll let me know if . . . there’s anything I can do.” He opened his arms to take his daughter.
Like erase the last five years? Make us a happy family again, so I can die living that American dream? “Sure.” I was reluctant to give Peaches back to him. She felt so good in my arms.
She went right to him, arms open, and he smiled at her. It was a sweet moment. Jared had always been a good father to Mia and Maura. Even when things got bad between us. Even after he moved out. So many dads left their kids behind when they had kids with the new wife. A young wife. But I ha
d to give Jared credit. He had done right by our girls, not just financially, but emotionally.
“I guess at some point . . . we need to talk about . . . if . . . if you get too sick. Once the girls are back in school.” He kept his gaze on his little girl. “When you can’t—”
“When I can’t take care of them anymore.” I stared at him.
Slowly, he raised his gaze to meet mine. “We don’t have to talk about this now.”
“No. But soon,” I agreed. I slipped my hands into my hoodie pocket again. “I’ll call you.”
He started to back up. “Enjoy the fireworks.”
“Thanks.”
He took two or three steps backward into the living room before turning for the kitchen. Fritz, who had been watching us from the living room, trotted behind Jared. His escort. I stood there for a minute, alone. Feeling alone. Feeling all the regrets of all the years gone by. Then I thought about the feel of Peaches in my arms. About Lilly’s baby. Even though the world was no longer full of hope for me, I didn’t feel hopeless. Lilly, Aurora, Janine, my girls, they’d go on to lead long, happy lives. And that seemed enough for me, at that moment.
I turned out all the lights in the house, left Fritz standing guard on the deck, and went down to the beach to join the others.
My trek across the sand was slow, partially because I was tired. Partially because I was enjoying the few minutes alone on the beach. The sand was still warm on my bare feet, from the day’s sun. There was a breeze, and the air smelled clean and tangy, not briny like it did sometimes. There were hints of barbecued meats still in the air; our neighbors had smoked a pork butt and sent over pulled pork for sandwiches. I could make out the smell of burned marshmallows.
I found everyone in the same spot where we usually set up during the day. The tide was coming in, but it wouldn’t be high tide for hours. Lilly and Janine were sitting in beach chairs. Lilly had a towel wrapped around her. Aurora, Mia, and Maura were all on their knees on towels, facing Janine and Lilly. They’d brought down a propane lantern, which cast a circle of light around them.
As Close as Sisters Page 13
