Jessica's Wish

by Marci Bolden

  Chapter Three

  Mallory went straight for Phil and Jessica. The father-daughter duo sat in the same booth she always found them in at Stonehill Café. She didn’t wait for an invite. She slid in next to Jessica and playfully bumped into her. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “We always eat here on Sunday morning,” Jessica announced. “It’s tradition. That’s how I got pancakes named after me.”

  Phil didn’t counter the girl’s logic. “Pancakes that you never finish.”

  Jessica ignored him. “You should order them. They’re rainbow.”

  Mal smiled, not pointing out that she already knew that. “Very cool.” Turning to Phil, she kept her grin plastered to her face. “And very filling, Dad.”

  He glanced around, as if expecting to see someone. “Are you here alone? Where’re your mom and Marcus?”

  “They were still holed up in their room when I left.”

  “Really? Aren’t our elders usually out and about by this hour?”

  She scrunched up her face as she flashed back to the week before when she’d arrived unexpectedly. “After surprising them last Saturday morning, I don’t want to know how they spend their time.”

  Phil chuckled. “And I don’t want to know what that means.”

  She widened her eyes dramatically. “No, you don’t. Let’s just say the lesson came a little late in life, but I’ve finally learned to knock before entering a room.”

  “Well, if you recall, my parents haven’t been married all that long. I learned that lesson the hard way as well.”

  “Grownups are nasty,” she whispered. She smiled up at her aunt Jenna when a coffee mug was set in front of her. “Morning, Jen.”

  “Where’re your parents?”

  Instead of rehashing her fears, Mallory settled on telling her they were still sleeping. Jenna put a menu in front of her, but Mallory waved it off.

  “Oh, I was just stopping to say hi. I’m not crashing their breakfast.”

  “Stay,” Phil insisted. “We like the company, don’t we, Punk?”

  Jessica nodded as she shoved whipped cream and sprinkle-covered pancakes into her mouth. Mallory conceded with a nod and ordered a plate of the Jessica Special with a side of bacon. The girl next to her beamed with pride as she again told the story of how the pancakes came to be named.

  Mallory tried to fight her smile as Phil reminded Jessica not to talk with her mouth full. When the girl was back to chewing, mouth closed, he cut into his own stack of pancakes. Mallory swiped back a few strands of Jessica’s dark brown hair that stuck to her cheek, trapped by a splatter of whipped cream.

  “How was your first week back?” Phil asked.

  “Busy,” Mallory said. “First thing I did was start looking at Mom’s rental properties. Love her and Marcus to pieces, but I’m not staying with them now that I know what they do on the couch when I’m not looking.”

  Phil laughed. “Find anything?”

  “Yeah, I did, actually.” She sipped from her mug before announcing, “I am now the proud renter of a cute little two-bedroom piled high with boxes that I can’t seem to find the energy to unpack. The whole of the O’Connell family has offered to help, but I refused. I don’t want them sorting through my stuff. My uncles unloaded my furniture when the moving truck arrived yesterday. I got that out of the way, but the boxes will be dealt with on my terms.”

  “Hiding bodies?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “That’s my little secret.”

  “Hey.” Jessica pointed out the window. “There’s Grandma and Grandpa.”

  Mallory looked to where Jessica was waving. Kara had never been one to dress up, but she looked like a hot damn mess in a multicolored ankle-length skirt with a black T-shirt and her strawberry-blond hair in a messy braid, pinned back. Harry, in unusually disheveled and wrinkled clothes, opened the back door of his car and, a few moments later, pulled out a car seat.

  Mallory couldn’t stop her eyes from widening. “Whoa. Your parents had a baby? No wonder they look like hell.” She gasped and put her fingers to her mouth. “I-I-I didn’t mean that…like it sounded. I meant…”

  Phil shook his head. “Don’t apologize. You are absolutely correct. They look like hell. And they didn’t have a baby. They’ve gotten stuck raising someone else’s.”

  Jessica sighed theatrically. “Grandma always takes in strays.”

  The girl was clearly repeating something she’d heard—probably from Phil, since he winced noticeably.

  “Uh.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s not say that anymore, huh, Punk? I don’t think Grandma would see the humor in comparing babies to puppies.” He met Mallory’s gaze. “Mom has always helped single mothers get on their feet. This particular one, however, doesn’t seem very interested in finding her own way. She all but disappeared after having the baby. My parents spend much more time with that kid than her birth mother does. Which is a good thing, really. Dad said the woman showed up drunk the other night and passed out on their couch.”

  Mallory frowned. She didn’t think she had a maternal bone in her body, but even she knew that wasn’t how the parenting thing was supposed to go. “How sad. Poor kid.”

  Phil sighed loudly. “At least she has my parents.”

  The café door opened, and the rest of the Martinson-Canton clan entered. Jessica nudged at Mallory, who slid out of the booth to let the girl slip by. Jessica darted across the café to hug her grandma. Kara kissed the top of her head, but she never took her gaze off the table—off Mallory and Phil. If Mallory didn’t know better, she’d swear a conspiratorial grin passed between Phil’s parents when Kara finally did break her intense stare long enough to glance at Harry.

  “They really look exhausted,” Mallory said in a horrified whisper.

  “They are.” Phil’s answer was just as quiet. “That kid has a serious aversion to sleeping.”

  Her horror grew as she got a better look at Kara’s pale skin and the bags under her bloodshot eyes. “Is that what having a baby does to you?”

  “Yes,” Phil answered. “Yes, it is. The life force drains from you for a good two years.”

  “No wonder I was an only child.” She put on a wide smile when the Cantons continued staring at her. “Hey, you two—er—three…”

  “Hey, Mallory,” Kara practically sang as she walked hand in hand with Jessica to the table. “I heard you were back in town.”

  “Yeah. California just wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.”

  Kara’s eyes, tired as they were, softened. She took a breath and started to say something but then seemed to reconsider.

  Mallory looked at Phil, who simply shrugged. Turning her attention back to Kara, she lifted her brows. “Come on. Spit it out.”

  “Your mom is okay,” she said with that same sweet tone that used to do Mal in after Annie had been shot. “She really is. She’s as tough as ever on the inside.”

  Mallory nodded firmly. She’d never doubted her mother’s drive. “I know.”

  “Marcus knows when to help and when to back off. When he doesn’t, she tells him.”

  “I know.”

  “Don’t worry about her, okay? That’s her husband’s job now.”

  “I know.”

  Kara scowled at her, but even the dark circles and deep frown didn’t take the concern from her eyes. “Did you learn your communication skills from my son?”

  Mallory smiled. “He taught me well.”

  Eyeing Phil, Kara smirked. “Well, then you two shouldn’t have any problems talking in the future.”

  Harry grinned down at his son. “We didn’t mean to interrupt your breakfast. Mira’s actually in a decent mood this morning. We thought we’d try breakfast out for a change.”

  “Better eat before she changes her mind,” Phil said.

  “Yes,” Harry said, pulling his wife away. “Yes, we should.”

  Kara kissed Jess again. “See you later, sweetheart.”

  Jess wasn’t so willing to let her gra
ndmother go, though. She clung to her hand and begged her father, “Can I sit with Grandma? Please.”

  “Sure,” Phil said.

  Kara’s smile widened as she held her other hand out for Jessica’s plate. “Enjoy your breakfast, guys.”

  Phil sighed when he and Mallory were alone. “Oh, man. This isn’t good.”

  “There was a whole lot of something going on there that I don’t know about,” Mallory agreed.

  He lifted his coffee mug. “You don’t want to know.”

  “But I have a feeling I should know.” She sat back when Jenna slid a plate in front of her and then topped off her coffee. “What is it?” Mallory asked after her aunt left their table to seat Kara, Harry, and the kids.

  Pushing his cup aside, Phil crossed his arms on the table and leaned close as he lowered his voice. “My parents are trying to marry me off. Congratulations. They’ve just added you to the pool of possibilities.”

  Mallory cocked a brow as his words sank in. Finally, she shrugged and gestured toward herself. “Look at this face. You could do worse.”

  Phil was about halfway through six months’ worth of Mallory’s social media photos when she messaged him asking what he was doing. She’d sent him a friend request sometime after breakfast that morning. As soon as he accepted, he did what was the social media norm.

  Judging your life based on your social media photos, he replied.

  Funny. I was doing the same about yours.

  He smiled at the thought of her cyberstalking him too. And?

  You have to get out more.

  Phil laughed, mainly because he couldn’t disagree. I’m a single dad with sole custody of an eleven-year-old drama queen. I enjoy peace and quiet when I can get it. San Diego looked great. That’s probably one of the only places along the West Coast we didn’t live when I was growing up. Miss it?

  I’ll say yes, but only if you promise not to tell anyone.

  Promise. What are you up to? he asked, fearing she’d end the conversation on that note. Besides judging my life.

  Staring at boxes, wishing they’d unpack themselves. You?

  Phil looked around his empty living room. Jessica hadn’t taken kindly to her sleepover the night before ending before it really began. After Phil had pulled the chicken pot pie from the oven, he and Jess had eaten while his parents continued their nap on the couch. He’d helped her get ready for bed, as much as she would allow, amid her protests that she was there to see her grandparents.

  She never said as much, but Phil knew Jess wanted to be certain she was the front and center of Kara and Harry’s attention, so she’d begged to spend the night again…this time without Grandma and Grandpa falling asleep on the couch.

  Even though his parents looked like they could fall over at any moment and it was a school night, they’d agreed she could stay, giving Phil an evening of peace and quiet. For some reason, the quiet wasn’t sitting well with him. He started to type, stopped, then started again.

  Finally, he typed, I was thinking about grabbing some beer and pizza and coming over to help you unpack.

  Beer and pizza, yes. Unpacking my stuff? No.

  You really are hiding bodies, aren’t you?

  He signed off after she shared her address, ordered a pizza for pick-up, and shoved his feet into his sneakers. He did his best not to acknowledge how excited he was to hang out with Mallory, but it’d been a long time since he’d socialized without his daughter. Not that talking to moms about gymnastics and princesses wasn’t enthralling, but an evening spent talking to someone about other things—and especially someone with Mallory’s natural sarcasm and wit—was a welcome change.

  Admittedly, the majority of their conversations had been about their parents, Jessica, or pancakes, but he had a feeling once they got to know each other better, he and Mallory would have all kinds of non-family-related things to talk about. That was enticing enough to explain his excitement as he headed over to her place.

  When he showed up, pizza and beer in hand, he let out a low whistle at the number of boxes crammed into the small living room.

  “I’ve already gotten the hoarder lecture from my mom,” Mal said. “If you’re even considering it, just drop the pizza and leave.”

  “Wouldn’t dare.” After kicking his shoes off, he followed her through a path deliberately left in the stacks and then sat on the couch next to her.

  She handed him a plate. “See? I have managed to unpack a few things.” After dropping two slices onto her plate, she folded one in half and took a big bite.

  He admired the way she shoved food in her mouth with abandon. He hadn’t been on many dates in the last eleven years, but he had been on enough to be tired of watching starved women eat salads or push food around to make it appear as if they’d eaten. His mom was one of those all-natural types, carefully selecting ingredients based on when, where, and how they were grown. She had mostly given up her disappointed sighs and judgment of his dietary choices. He had his dad in his corner now—two against one, and his mother only occasionally won a battle about their affection for junk food. She did still like to remind them with offhand remarks about how they were adults and could eat carcinogens and mistreated animals if they so chose.

  Watching Mallory bite into a slice of pizza without questioning where the cheese or sausage came from was pretty damned refreshing.

  “What?” she asked around a mouthful.

  Phil blinked, clearing his wandering thoughts. “What?”

  “You’re staring at me.” She dragged her palm across her chin. “Do I have sauce on my face? A string of cheese? A hair growing from my chin?”

  He chuckled. “No. You’re fine. I was just admiring your eating habits.”

  She stopped chewing and gawked at him.

  “I’m being serious. I really like that you aren’t afraid to eat.”

  A smile curved her puffed-out cheeks. “Thanks.”

  He also folded his slice in half and took a bite before opening two bottles of beer. Looking around at the boxes that surrounded him, he grabbed a napkin to wipe his hands. “Does that say Spider-Man?”

  Mallory followed his gaze. “Maybe.”

  Amused by her seemingly embarrassed response, he narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you a nerd, Mallory?”

  “Are you a bully, Phil?”

  “Definitely not. But I might be a closet nerd. We were constantly moving around when I was a kid. I never had a lot of things that I could call mine, but I did have a copy of Captain America: Heroes Reunited, part four, that I got for my seventh birthday. I read that thing until it fell apart. Man, I loved that comic book.”

  Her smile returned and light practically started to shine from her eyes. “Best thing about living in San Diego? Comic-Con. Oh my God, it is insane. Forget heaven. When I die, I want to go to Comic-Con.”

  He was tempted to high-five her like he did whenever Jessica said something he got excited about, but he refrained. Then, in that second, he realized his parents were right. He really did need to spend time with someone other than his daughter. Dismissing the thought, he nodded his head toward his find. “So. What’s in the Spider-Man box?”

  She stared at him, squinting her eyes, clearly weighing her options before dropping the pizza slice and brushing her hands on her jeans. He stood as she peeled the tape back and hesitated one more moment before opening the box. When she did, he thought he heard angels sing. The box was filled with comic books in individually sealed bags.

  “Wow,” he breathed. Looking at her, he grinned. “You really are a nerd.”

  She playfully swatted at his shoulder.

  “I’m just teasing,” he insisted.

  “That’s not the extent of it.”

  “No?”

  She again faltered, clearly not sure if she wanted to share. “You know I’m a graphic designer, right?”

  “You were. Then you moved home and reclaimed your role as a disgruntled real estate agent at your mom’s office.”

  �
��Hey,” she protested. “I never said I was disgruntled.”

  “Your face did.”

  She frowned at him. “Let’s focus on this. Don’t judge me, or I’ll never share my secrets with you again.” She reached for another box then hefted it up and set it on top of the comics. “This is our secret. If you break my trust, I’ll spit on your pizza.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  She opened the second box, and he peered inside at a dozen or so artist’s notebooks. She lifted one out then timidly handed the book to him. He flipped the cover open. Page after page of superhero action played out in skillfully hand-drawn images. He was stunned at the depth of her talent.

  “You make comic books?” he asked, his voice reflecting his awe.

  “I want to make comic books,” Mallory clarified. “I haven’t had much luck yet. You wouldn’t think this was such a tough business to break into, but lo and behold, many a nerd would like to have their visions in print. These are just sketches. The finished product is on my computer.”

  “These are great, Mal.” He closed the book and reached for another. After flipping through the pages, he set them in the box and met her gaze. “Is this what you were doing in California? Trying to get a break for your comics?”

  She shrugged. “A little. I mean, I’ve always wanted to do this, but I met people like me—people who like this stuff. Having a tribe fanned the flame. But with Mom…” That strained look returned to her eyes. “I couldn’t be there, Phil. Not now. Besides, if I ever get good enough to be published, I don’t have to be in California. I can do this from anywhere.”

  “So you haven’t given up?”

  She opened one of the books he’d looked at. “No. Of course not. I just… I’m tired of rejection, so I’m taking a break.”

  He understood. “Rejection is hard.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So is having a parent with a sudden onset of disabilities.”

  She frowned at him, as if she were about to tell him that was a rude comment, but then her face softened. “Yeah, it is. Sometimes it’s like… My old mom is trapped inside this broken body, and I feel guilty that I can’t help her find a way out.” She closed her eyes so tightly that creases formed around them. She shook her head, as if to dislodge the thought. When she met his gaze again, her eyes were filled with a sorrowful look that tugged at his heart. “That sounds horrible, doesn’t it?”