Secondhand Sinners

by Genevieve Lynne

  Abby stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well. My birthday is coming up, and Daddy said I could have a pool party.”

  Emily tried to imagine Miller planning a girl’s birthday party. The thought made her smile. “That sounds like fun.”

  “I know, right? It’s…” Abby moved to shut the door and then came back to stand close enough to whisper. “I might have a problem. I don’t know how to use this.” She pulled a tampon out of her pocket.

  “Oh.”

  “I mean. I know where it goes and stuff. I don’t know how it works.”

  “So this is your first summer since…”

  “Yes.”

  Emily took the tampon with the words Super Plus printed on the wrapper. “Where did you get this?”

  “My dad.” Abby rolled her eyes. “He brought home two great big boxes of these things like he was stockpiling them for the apocalypse. I think he hopes that’s all I’ll ever need until I move out.”

  “You don’t want to use this.” She handed it back. “Sometime while I’m in town I’ll take you to the store and get you what you need.”

  “Thanks.” Abby sighed and put the big tampon back into her pocket. “My dad actually tried to read the instruction sheet. Talk about embarrassing.”

  Emily couldn’t stop herself from laughing a little at that. The more she thought about Miller trying to figure out the complicated teenage girl’s world, the more tender she felt toward him. He really was a good dad. “So do you have a boyfriend?” she asked.

  Abby said, “No,” through her not-quite-hidden smile.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Alex. Please don’t tell my dad. He doesn’t even like to talk about it. He gets all freaked out about boys. I think it’s because he’s afraid I’ll have sex because he and my mom had to get married. You know, like had to get married. It’s so backward, right? Getting married right after high school because you’re pregnant. Oh…” Abby’s eyes darted around for a few seconds. Then she said, “My daddy’s not really backward. He’s cool. I mean really cool. I’ll finish this salad if you want to go check on Jack.”

  Miller and Sara had to get married? Sara always did have a huge crush on Miller. They were an unofficial couple ever since their sophomore year, so when Emily heard they’d gotten married, she wasn’t too surprised. Devastated, but not surprised. Miller must’ve turned to Sara for comfort after that night Daniel killed himself and she left. She was all he had left. Emily knew they had a baby. She didn’t know they had to get married. How old was Abby? When she first saw her in the police station, she guessed she was twelve, mostly because there was no way she could have been any older. Having spent the day with her and hearing that Miller and Sara got married because she got pregnant, thirteen was a reasonable assumption.

  An old wound was opening up, and Emily could feel herself bleeding again. It wasn’t simply the guilt that was seeping from her veins, there was regret too. Guilt and regret, her lifeblood.

  She snagged a beer from the refrigerator and took it outside to Miller.

  “Thanks,” he said and twisted the cap off.

  “Everything is ready in there.” She took Jack by his shoulders. “Come on, let’s go wash your hands.”

  “No.” Jack squirmed out of her grasp. “I’m going to wash my hands like a man.”

  Emily looked at Miller and raised an eyebrow. “How does a man wash his hands?”

  Miller nodded to the side of the house. “There’s a bar of soap on the shelf next to the faucet.”

  Emily walked Jack to the side of the house, handed him the soap, and stepped back when he insisted he could do it by himself. When he finished, she sent him inside for a towel to dry his hands and legs, which were drenched from all the spray. He ran into the house, giving Miller a high five when he ran past him.

  Emily smiled when Miller held up his hand and Jack responded appropriately. Damn it, she’d been smiling all night. That was one of those social situations that they had worked on—how you can tell the difference between a high five and an assaulting slap, and it was good to see Jack was mastering it.

  When the back door slammed, she walked back to Miller. “He’s going to start peeing in the grass, isn’t he?”

  Miller shrugged. “That is how men do it.”

  Emily inspected Miller’s profile to see if she could get a glimpse of the familiarity she saw on Abby’s face. She might have been right about the resemblance in the mouth. There was something else, though.

  He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “What?”

  “I was just trying to decide if Abby looks more like you or Sara.”

  He took a long drink. “Sara. She looks like Sara.”

  “I thought there was a little of you in her too.”

  “Yeah. That’s what Sara said. Then she left.” He walked back to the fryer and pulled the basket out of the oil. “This is almost ready. It’ll be a few minutes.”

  Emily felt terrible. She shouldn’t have brought up Sara. They were having such a nice day, and she’d tainted it by reminding him of his ex-wife.

  “Miller, I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t—”

  With his back to her, he waved off her apology. “I’ll be right in.”

  They ate an awkward dinner where Abby talked too much and Miller didn’t talk at all. After they cleaned up, Emily put her own clothes back on and said she and Jack should leave so they could get back to Levi’s before it got too dark.

  Abby frowned, her eyes darting around the room, then she grabbed an empty jar from the counter. “I was hoping to show Jack how to catch fireflies. Daddy can drive you back later, right, Daddy?”

  Miller sighed. “Sure, Abigail.” Then he walked out the front door and sat on the porch steps.

  Emily sat next to him while Jack ran and jumped around the front yard singing, “Twinkle! Twinkle! Little star! How I wonder what you are!” at the top of his lungs.

  It was the first time Jack could play freely without being shushed, monitored, or expected to conform to social rules he didn’t understand. It was also the first time she could remember being free to enjoy her son. She loved it. She loved the whole day.

  “Look, Mom! I’m chasing the stars!”

  “They’re fireflies, baby.”

  “Nope. Gotcha! See? They twinkle. They’re stars.”

  “It’s so dark out here. I don’t think he’s ever seen so many stars. He’s in heaven,” she said.

  Miller smiled a little. “Looks that way.”

  “Are you sure he’s not bothering you? I can tell him to settle down.”

  “I told you, he's fine. Relax."

  Despite Jack’s screaming and Abby’s laughing, Emily could still hear the underlying quiet she’d noticed when she was alone in Miller’s room. There were no cars, no planes, and no sirens. The air was so clean.

  She inhaled. “I miss that.”

  “What?” Miller asked.

  “That musty, wet-wood, spring-night smell.”

  “Oh. That.”

  She’d obviously ruined Miller’s mood. After their little swim in the pond he’d seemed so relaxed. Then she had to go and mention Sara. She put her hand on his arm. “Miller. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up—”

  Miller took her hand and pulled it to him, forcing her to scoot closer. When he rubbed her empty ring finger, she tugged her hand away, but he tightened his grip.

  “No wedding ring?”

  “Yeah. Sorry I lied. I don’t like to talk about it. The whole marriage was such a—”

  “You’re a good mother,” he interrupted, catching her completely off guard.

  “What?”

  He closed his hands around hers. “When I was online, I read some stuff about what it’s like to be a parent of a kid like Jack. I don’t think I could handle it.”

  “Who said I was handling it? I’m a divorced woman who hasn’t worked in six year
s. I don’t even have a high school diploma, and I certainly don’t have any marketable skills. I devoted seven years to a man who left me for a woman five years older than me…that’s right. She’s older than me. It seems all I have to show for it is this incredibly challenging, brilliant, annoying child who will probably never understand what love means.”

  “You’re handling it. Really well.”

  Emily left her hand in Miller’s. She didn’t dare move, didn’t want to do anything to shatter the fragile calm that was settling in on her as she inhaled the intoxicating aroma of fresh air and Miller’s aftershave. Memories of them together in another life wafted around her like the scent of the wildflowers and budding leaves. They were wild once.

  “You remember old man Phipps?” he asked, breaking the silence.

  Emily thought for a minute. “The history teacher?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I haven’t thought about him in years. He was ancient.”

  “Abby’s in his class this year.”

  “No way. He must be about a hundred years old!”

  “He’s forty-eight.”

  “Shut up.” Emily started to laugh. “You’re lying.”

  “No,” Miller said, his mood instantly lightened. “He wasn’t much older than we are now when we had him.”

  “I guess that means we’re a few years away from being ancient.”

  He looked at her sideways and grinned. “Hell, I hit ancient two years ago.”

  Emily relaxed. The Miller she remembered, the one who always knew how to put her at ease and had haunted her for the last fourteen years with nightmares of what if, had broken free of his bad memories and was back. Suddenly, she didn’t want to leave.

  “Who else?” she asked, wanting to sit for a while longer on the porch with her hand in his. “Tell me about someone else.”

  “Well,” Miller said, looking up like he was thinking, “as you know by now, Alan’s back in town. He joined the Air Force a few years after Daniel died, did his four years, came back, and moved in with Hoyt and Verna.”

  Ugh. Next topic. Emily did not want to talk about Alan.

  “Hoyt’s in the home now, though. Broke his hip a few months after Verna died, and Alan’s wife got tired of taking care of him, so off to the home he went. She split about a year ago.”

  “Why’d she leave?”

  “Must’ve gotten tired of Alan sleeping with every woman in town.”

  “Oh.” The way Miller emphasized the word every told Emily Sara was one of those women. No wonder he clammed up when she brought up Sara earlier. It was probably still painful for him to even think about her. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “Guess she figured it was easier for me to walk in on them than to tell me she wanted to leave. Sad thing is, I wasn’t even surprised. With Alan, though? That was cruel.”

  It was time to move on to another topic that didn’t involve Alan. “Who else?”

  “You remember Harry West?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He and Suzanne Hillside got married. Then they divorced.”

  “Oh. That’s too bad.”

  “Then they got married again.”

  “Oh. That’s good.”

  “They’re divorced, for the time being.”

  “What about that guy who always wore overalls to school? I can’t remember his name. Whatever happened to him?”

  Emily didn’t care how much time was passing as she sat on the porch steps listening to Miller tell stories about all the people she used to know. She didn’t even realize Jack was no longer running around in the yard until she heard Abby clear her throat behind them. She and Miller looked back to find the teenager standing in the doorway in pajama bottoms and a tank top.

  She yawned and stretched. “I’m going to bed. Jack’s sound asleep on the couch. He was really tired so you probably shouldn’t move him. Think I’m going to go up and listen to some music while I go to sleep. Good night.” She hurried away.

  “Wow,” Emily said. “She’s good.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “How old did you say she was?”

  “Thirteen. Going on twenty.”

  Emily listened to the muffled sounds of Abby hurrying up the stairs and then the slow drag of a window above them opening.

  “She opened her window,” Miller whispered. “Next she’s going to play a Lady Antebellum song.”

  “How do you know?” she whispered back.

  “She thinks it’s romantic.”

  When a slow country song started to play, Emily stifled her laugh.

  “I’ll tell her knock it off,” Miller said.

  “Don’t you dare,” she whispered and covered Miller’s mouth with her hand. “It’s sweet, and she’s not hurting anyone.”

  Miller pulled her hand off his mouth but didn’t let go of it. “She probably wants us to dance.”

  “Then let’s dance.”

  Miller’s eyebrows furrowed. “You wanna dance?”

  Hell yes, she wanted to dance. She wanted to remember what it was like to be held by him, which would remind her what it was like to be loved by him. It had been so long since she felt like anyone loved her that she was willing to let herself pretend for a few minutes that Miller could possibly still care for her.

  She shrugged. “If you do.”

  “Okay then.” He stood and offered her his hand. “Let’s dance.”

  She took his hand and followed him up onto the porch. When he wrapped his arms around her, she rested her head against his chest, closed her eyes, and gave herself over to the fantasy. After three songs, the music stopped and Abby’s window closed.

  Miller sighed. “I guess we should go in.”

  Emily nodded. “Probably.”

  Miller carried Jack upstairs to his room. Emily pulled back the covers so Miller could lay him in the bed.

  “Get some rest,” he said. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  After he left, Emily stood in the middle of the room feeling a little disoriented. She didn’t have anything to sleep in. She stuck her head out the door and whispered, “Hey.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I get another one of your t-shirts to sleep in?”

  Miller nodded. “Help yourself. Second drawer from the top.”

  Emily found a worn gray t-shirt in the drawer, stepped into the bathroom, and put it on with Miller’s warmth still surrounding her and his words: “You’re a good mother,” echoing in her head. She climbed into bed with Jack and hoped she would fall asleep before the urge to cry over her lost past overpowered her present desire to pretend like she was right where she belonged.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Miller

  It was one in the morning, three hours since Miller and Emily put Jack to bed upstairs in his bedroom. Adrenaline and mental images of Emily in his t-shirt kept him awake. Which shirt did she put on? He imagined it was blue. He could see her wearing his blue t-shirt, which would hike up to her hips when she got in the bed. In his imagination she had on white cotton underwear, the kind that looked like tight little shorts.

  He tossed from his side to his back, adjusted his pillow, and tried to think of something less sexy.

  Need a new saddle for the horse?

  No good. Emily had sat on that saddle with him, which was the reason she was in his bed with his t-shirt hiked up.

  Cleaning the toilet?

  Even worse. That made him think of being in his bathroom, which was where she probably changed into the t-shirt, and that made him think of her with no shirt on.

  Reading the instruction sheet from Abby’s box of tampons because she needed help understanding how they worked? Yep. That’ll do it.

  With the images of Emily pushed into the back of his brain, he started to think about how close he was to telling her about Abby’s adoption when she asked who his daughter resembled. He was so mad at himself for not telling her. Telling her, though, was too risky. She could freak out, cause a scene, and then Abby
would find out.

  He should have been more insistent with Sara that they be open with Abby about her adoption. He always questioned the idea that her self-esteem would take a hit if she knew she was adopted. He deferred to Sara, however, because he figured she would know best since she was raised by her grandparents. She obviously wasn’t too concerned about Abby’s self-esteem when she left, though. That was his fault. He’d proposed to Sara and asked if they could adopt Emily’s baby knowing she would say yes because she loved him and assumed the baby was Daniel’s. He figured, if the baby started to look like him, he’d call it a coincidence or claim he couldn’t see the resemblance. Well that was one lie he never had to tell. Hindsight really was a bastard.

  Something was still bothering him. Levi’s comment about the night Emily left being the best thing that ever happened to him. He thought Emily left because she felt guilty that Daniel killed himself after she confessed she really loved Miller and was going to have his baby. He never considered there was some kind of abuse.

  Damn it. He was thinking about her again. If he fell asleep right away, he’d only get four hours of sleep. He kicked the covers off. There was no way he’d be able to fall asleep in jeans. If he could strip down into his boxers and get into his own bed he’d be…lying next to Emily…who was in sleeping in his t-shirt.

  He got up and grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator. He leaned against the counter and finished off the bottle in four gulps, then he heard faint footsteps on the stairs. Fearing it was Emily, he adjusted the painful wood in his jeans and sat down at the table. When Jack walked around the corner with crooked shorts and wild bed-head, Miller relaxed.

  Jack looked at him with one eye open.

  “Whatchya doin’?” Miller asked.

  “Some stars are billions of light years away.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I like Looney Tunes. Marvin lives on Mars. Mars is the red planet because it has red dust. Does your TV have Looney Tunes?”