by T. L. Haddix
“I can’t imagine that went over very well.”
“No. My mother went ballistic. She knew about the other women, but she’d overlooked it. She had no intention of ever remarrying at that point, and the legal separation seemed to work for both of them. He kept on drinking and, well, whoring, and he pretty much left us alone. But when she found out about Annie, I don’t know. It broke something loose in her.” He uncapped his water and took a long drink.
“I know how I felt when I found out David had cheated. I can’t imagine how it would have been to find out he’d fathered a child during that relationship.” She ran her hand over his arm. “What’d she do?”
“She confronted him. The sad thing was, she thought Carly really did want to try and make restitution somehow. She said she’d changed, and was trying to do what was right for once in her life. Anyhow, I don’t know what Mom told Ransom, but when she came home, there was steel in her that hadn’t been there before,” he said. “She filed for divorce the next day, and she never looked back.”
“When did she meet her second husband?” Lauren asked.
Charlie thought for a moment before answering. “I guess it was the summer I left home. I joined the Marines as soon as I got out of high school, and they got married that Christmas. I resented the hell out of them both for a while.” Seeing her surprise, he shrugged. “I was a smart-assed punk with a chip on my shoulder. Being in the Marines knocked that out of me pretty damned quick, let me tell you, but I still felt like she had just waited until I left and then moved on, forgot all about me. She sold our house, moved to Madison with Jason, and suddenly had this new life that I wasn’t a part of, at least that’s how it felt at the time. It hurt.”
“You don’t feel that way now, though, do you?” she asked. “You have a good relationship with them, right?” She wrapped her arm around his and rested her chin on his shoulder, watching him as he answered. He met her gaze and smiled a little.
“We have a really good relationship now. Even though we kept in touch after I left, we didn’t really communicate. I just sent messages every now and then letting them know I was okay. I blew out my shoulder during a training exercise when I was twenty-two, and had to have pretty extensive surgery to repair it. I didn’t tell Mom about the surgery, but somehow she found out, and when I woke up, there they were. It was the first time I’d ever met Jason.” His grin was boyish and a little shamefaced.
“I’m not the best patient in the world, so I was a little… let’s say, gruff. Jason wouldn’t have it. He stepped right up to my bedside and told me basically to grow up, and if I didn’t, he and my Mom were going to walk away, and I’d be on my own. He said that my dad had treated her badly enough for too long, and he wasn’t going to let her son do the same thing. She deserved better, and he was there to make sure she got it. That was pretty hard to take, mostly because it was true. I had been treating her the way my dad always had. It woke me up.”
“That had to be hard to hear,” Lauren said softly. “That you were acting like him, the worst part of him.”
“It was. It’s always been my biggest fear, that I’d turn out like him,” he said, his face unreadable. “I don’t drink alcohol because of that. I don’t like being around people who consume it. I know drinking is socially acceptable, but to me it’s just a legalized drug, no different than cocaine or heroin.” The now-empty water bottle crumpled in his hands. “Not a popular mindset, but it’s mine, and I make no apologies for it. Having to work at the Lighthouse and serve drinks to people for two months? Not the best time of my life.”
Lauren shrugged. “I’ve never seen the attraction of alcohol, myself. Mom and Dad didn’t drink, so Tris and I didn’t grow up with it. After I became an adult, I tried some things—wine, beer, not the hard stuff. I just couldn’t get past the taste,” she told him. “People who say they drink alcohol because it tastes good? They must not be drinking the stuff I tried, because I think it tastes like really bad cough syrup at best. I don’t even cook with it.”
When he realized she wasn’t going to make fun of him, Charlie seemed to relax. “Well, that’s a load off my mind,” he said jokingly. “I guess we should just go ahead and get married, now. No need to wait, now that I know we agree on politics and alcohol.”
Lauren squeezed his arm. “It’ll have to be early next week, then, because I’ve got major renovations to handle, and I just won’t have time to do it later.”
Grinning, Charlie jumped up and grabbed her hands. “Really? Just like that?” Tugging her up off the picnic table, he picked her up around the waist and twirled her around, hugging her close as she laughed and shrieked. “I didn’t think it’d be that easy.” He set her back on her feet, still holding her loosely.
“Anybody ever mention you’re a crazy man?” she asked him, laughing. Her hair had fallen into her face from the twirling, and Charlie reached up and gently pushed it back behind her ears. He tightened his hold on her. “And just how do you feel about crazy men, my pretty?” he asked in a theatrical villain’s voice.
Moving her hands up his chest and around his shoulders, Lauren leaned into him. “Depends on what kind of crazy we’re talking about. Are we talking ‘howl at the full moon crazy’ or ‘tin foil hats’ crazy?”
“Definitely ‘howl at the moon’ crazy. I feel like howling right now, as a matter of fact.” He turned his face up and took in a breath as if to howl, and Lauren jabbed him in the ribs. His breath rushed out with an oomph, and she scolded him.
“Don’t you dare start howling,” she warned him, struggling to keep her own face stern.
“You’ll have to stop me, then. Any ideas how you might do that?”
She pretended to consider the question, fighting giddiness when she realized how comfortable she felt in his arms. “I don’t know. I might think of something.” Her voice dropped. “Do you think a kiss or two might do it?”
“It’d be a good start,” he said, “a darned good start.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Later that evening, Lauren was catching up on paperwork at home when her mother called.
“Hey, honey. Are you busy?”
She leaned back in her chair. “I’m never too busy to talk to you, silly. You know that. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to touch base with you on a few things. How’d your trip go?” Molly asked. “Did Ava get settled in okay at David’s?”
“She did. And the trip went well. Charlie proposed,” she said lightly, “and I accepted. But we have to have the wedding early next week, because I’m going to be too busy getting the shop lined out after that.”
There was shocked silence on the other end of the phone. “Well. That was… fast,” Molly finally said. “You’re joking, right?”
Lauren laughed. “Technically, no. He did propose, and I did accept, but we were joking. It’s way too soon to even think about marriage.” Sobering, she told her mother about the visit to the attorney. When she got to the amount of the inheritance, Molly interrupted.
“I have to sit down. Hold on.” After some rustling, she returned. “Okay, I’m sitting. Now, repeat that last part?”
Lauren told her again what Charity had left her. “She also left a letter for Travis, and the request that her ashes be scattered on his property.”
“I suppose this means you’ll be seeing him again, then? I can’t say I’m pleased about that, but it is what it is.”
“Mom, he’s a nice guy. He was the perfect gentleman the whole time I was with him, and it really hit him hard when he found out about Margie. I really don’t want to get into this again,” she said. “Have you heard from Shannon?”
Her mother let the subject go. “She called a little while ago. Carl’s funeral is set for tomorrow, and Jacob and Emily are trying to figure out how to handle things. None of them want anything to do with Mary Margaret, and they’re getting a lot of pressure to attend the services.”
“Who’s pressuring them? It’s not like they had normal relati
onships with their parents. Shannon and Earl were more parental to Jacob and Rob than those people ever were, and Jacob and Emily practically raised Emmaline and Geneva. All their memories of their parents are bad ones. They don’t owe them a damned thing, from my perspective.”
“Nor mine,” her mother responded, “but there are people in the community who don’t know the whole story. It’s a moot point, anyway, because apparently Mary Margaret doesn’t want them at the services, either. She blames Jacob for not getting Troy out of jail and flat out told her sister Patricia to call them and tell them they weren’t welcome at the funeral.”
Lauren gave a short laugh of disbelief. “Is she not aware of the fact that he’s been charged with murder? And not just any murder, but the murder of her oldest daughter? Unreal.” She closed her eyes. “How’s Troy’s wife taking all this? I really feel sorry for her.”
“Oh, that’s the other big brouhaha. Apparently, the same day Carl died, Iris called her family, and they came up from Georgia and got her and the baby yesterday morning. No one knew she was leaving until her parents pulled up to get her. Mary Margaret had to be restrained in the house because she tried to scratch Iris’s eyes out.”
“Wow,” Lauren said. “Hopefully Iris will be able to move on. She’s barely more than a child herself, Mom. How she ever ended up with trash like Troy… anyhow, I just hope her situation with her parents is better than it was here.”
Standing, she stretched and headed toward the kitchen. “So has anyone said anything about having a memorial service or wake for Margie?” She grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and leaned against the counter, propping the phone on her shoulder as she opened the bottle.
“Shannon told me that they’re still in shock, and since her attorney is handling the ashes, they aren’t sure what to do. I think Jacob and Rob might want to say goodbye, but the girls? They haven’t seen her in so long, and given the situation, I think they’re more of a mind to just let things be,” Molly said. “I’ve had several people here in town mention her death to me, and ask if there’s going to be a service. I’ve had to tell them no, not that I’m aware of. I think someone should do something, though, don’t you?”
Lauren agreed. “Yes. I don’t think she was close to many people here in town, though, just Raven. Her attorney, Sam Davis, also seemed close to her. Since she wanted Travis to have her ashes spread on his property, I may ask him if we can have a small service there.”
“That would be nice, if he’d agree,” Molly said. “When do you think you’ll hear from him?”
“I’ll probably give him a call tomorrow sometime, if I don’t hear from him before then. Davis was supposed to call him earlier this afternoon, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t call tonight. I’ll ask him then how he feels about a private service.” As she spoke, the phone beeped, indicating a call waiting.
“I need to go, Mom. This is probably the contractor. He’s supposed to be out in the morning. I’ll call you later, okay?”
They said goodbye, and she switched over to take the other call. “Hello?”
It was Travis. “Are you busy?” he asked.
“Not too busy. How are you?”
“Okay, I guess.” He let out a sigh. “I talked to Sam Davis this afternoon. He told me what Margie wanted.”
“Are you okay with doing what she wanted?”
“No,” he said. “I’m not. If I accept her ashes, it makes it real. I don’t want to do that.” She heard him swallow and the clink of ice as he set something down. “I don’t have much choice, though, do I?”
“I’m afraid you don’t. Even if you didn’t accept her ashes, she’d still be gone. Is it the thought of having her there, in the lake, that bothers you?”
“No, that doesn’t bother me. I guess if I have to face the fact that she’s, well, that she is dead,” he said, stumbling over the word, “then having her here would be more of a comfort. I have no intention of ever getting rid of this property, so that wouldn’t be a concern.”
“You told me that the lake house was where you met. I’d have to guess that she knew you lived there now. She knew everything about the rest of us,” Lauren told him. “That means that property held some significance for her. I would try to focus on that.”
“Has the family decided on a memorial service yet? I heard about her father, by the way. I hope he’s very warm now, wherever he is.”
Ignoring the comment about Carl, she answered his question. “From what my aunt Shannon tells us, her sisters are not comfortable having a service. Her brothers, yes, but not the girls. I was going to ask you if we could possibly have something at the lake, if you were comfortable with that. It would be small, probably no more than fifteen to twenty people.”
He sighed. “Let me think about that. I don’t want to say no, but I’d like to wrap my mind around it first.”
“That’s fine,” she assured him. “Even if you say no, it’s okay. We can have a small ceremony here in town, if you would prefer not to have one there.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Not to change the subject, which I am, but how are your repairs going?”
“The crew starts first thing in the morning,” she told him. Lauren could hear him yawning on the other end of the phone, and from the sounds coming through, guessed he was stretching.
“Well, darlin’, I guess I’d better go for now,” he told her. “I’m planning on sitting here and getting a little bit drunk tonight. I’ve got a lot on my mind, and I want to push it back for just a while longer.”
“Travis, please be careful. If you’re going to drink, promise me you won’t get out on the roads.”
“I won’t be going anywhere. I’m home, and I’m staying right here tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know about the service, okay?”
Saying goodbye, they hung up, and she put the phone down on the counter, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She said a quick prayer in her mind for Travis, and exhaled slowly, suddenly feeling exhausted.
So much had happened in the last week that it felt like months had passed instead of days. Finding out that Carl and Mary Margaret were back, having the shop vandalized, losing Charity and finding Margie, only to find out they were the same person, her budding relationship with Charlie. It was difficult to take it all in.
Walking over to the refrigerator, Lauren tried to figure out what to have as a late supper. Finally settling on some sliced cheese, a cup of yogurt and an apple, she grabbed the food and a bottle of water, and headed for the screened-in back porch. Making herself comfortable on the porch swing, she bit into the apple and set the swing in motion with her foot. As she was finishing her meal, the phone rang, and picking it up she saw David’s number on the caller ID.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mommy,” said Ava. “Do you miss me?”
Lauren smiled. “Of course I miss you, Ava-bear. Are you having fun?”
“Oh, yes.” Ava proceeded to talk about her day. After a few minutes, she wound down. “I have to get ready for bed. Daddy wants to talk to you. Love you, Mommy.”
“Love you, too, sweetie.”
Ava passed the phone, and David came on the line. “Hey. How are you?”
“I’m okay,” she told him. “Sounds like she’s having a blast.”
“She is, and we’re enjoying having her.”
“I’m glad. I really appreciate you and Josie doing this, you know. It was a good idea. The next few days are going to be crazy.” She updated him, briefly discussing what she’d learned that day.
After they hung up, she stretched out on the swing, closing her eyes. She let her mind drift. Somehow, hearing Ava’s voice, so happy and innocent, had released some of the burden Lauren had been bearing. Despite everything she’d been through the last few days, she realized that whatever was coming next, she would be okay. She was surrounded by family who loved her, friends who were supportive and caring, and she just might be headed down the road toward a relationship lik
e the one her parents shared. Suddenly the bad things didn’t seem so insurmountable after all.
Chapter Forty-Four
The house was quiet and empty when Patricia brought Mary Margaret home after Carl’s funeral. The people from the church had held a small dinner after the services, and it had seemed to drag on forever.
“I’ve taken as much comforting as I can, Patty. Can you get me out of here?” Mary Margaret had asked and Patricia was glad to comply. The wailing and gnashing of teeth wore on her nerves, as well.
Patricia carried a box loaded with dishes of leftovers from the dinner into the house. Taking them to the kitchen, she started putting them in the refrigerator. Mary Margaret came into the kitchen and sat down at the table.
“I can’t believe none of the children showed up. Not a single one of them came to pay their final respects to their daddy. I don’t understand how they could be my children,” she said.
Exasperated, Patricia turned around and looked at her sister, hands on hips. “Are you serious? Mary Margaret, you’re the very one who told those kids not to come! Rob was at the visitation last night, and you made it very clear to him that none of them were welcome unless they helped Troy.”
Chin raised, Mary Margaret tightened her mouth. She folded her arms across her chest and refused to respond.
Patricia turned back to the open refrigerator and finished unloading the food. When she was done, she sat the box on the counter and washed her hands. Deciding to try one more time to get through to her sister, she walked over and sat down beside Mary Margaret.
“Those kids can’t help Troy. Right now, no one can. You know that. The judge denied bail, and his public defender can’t get that changed. What do you expect them to do?”
“They’ve got money,” Mary Margaret shot back at her. “They can hire him an attorney that will get him out of jail, and fight back against that woman. They won’t even let me in to see him.”
