by Marin Thomas
Praise for
The Promise of Forgiveness
“A heartfelt novel of mysteries hidden in lonely hearts. Marin Thomas gives us characters that jump off the page, people we root for and who dare to reach for love. A keeper!”
—Curtiss Ann Matlock, USA Today bestselling author of Love in a Small Town
“Resonates with the power of redemption and absolution while exploring the idea of choosing your own family. A complex novel that examines the mother-daughter bond and the lengths a person will go to be forgiven.”
—Kate Moretti, New York Times bestselling author of Thought I Knew You
“I loved the book! Marin Thomas has a wonderfully fresh writing voice that makes The Promise of Forgiveness an unputdownable novel. It is a compelling story of forgiveness with a warm heart at its center. You won’t want to put it down!”
—Joan Johnston, New York Times bestselling author of Shameless
“The Promise of Forgiveness takes a heartfelt look at the complexities inherent in familial relationships. It’s authentic and poignant, and will have you turning pages well past bedtime.”
—Emily Liebert, author of Some Women
“The flawed, frail, but deeply human characters in The Promise of Forgiveness will have you rooting for them from the first page and cheering by the last. This is a story to savor—and remember.”
—Yona Zeldis McDonough, author of The House on Primrose Pond
“From the very first sentence, Ruby’s story will captivate readers. Thomas brings the dusty town of Unforgiven vividly to life and paints a poetic picture of family dynamics with flawed but honest characters. Even the town’s name carries its own poignancy. Both grace and grit underline a wide range of emotions, from fear and grief to tenderness and hope.”
—RT Book Reviews (starred review)
ALSO BY MARIN THOMAS
The Promise of Forgiveness
BERKLEY
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014
Copyright © 2017 by Brenda Smith-Beagley
Readers Guide copyright © 2017 by Penguin Random House
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BERKLEY is a registered trademark and the B colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Thomas, Marin, author. Title: The future she left behind/Marin Thomas. Description: First Edition. | New York: Berkley, 2017. Identifiers: LCCN 2017000382 (print) | LCCN 2017005630 (ebook) | ISBN 9780451476302 (paperback)
| ISBN 9780698198692 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Domestic fiction. | BISAC: FICTION/Contemporary Women.
| FICTION/Family Life. | FICTION/Romance/Contemporary. | GSAFD: Love stories. Classification: LCC PS3620.H6348 F88 2017 (print) | LCC PS3620.H6348 (ebook)
| DDC 813/.6—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017000382
First Edition: September 2017
Cover art: image of car and woman sitting on hood by Ritta Supperi/Folio Images/Getty Images; woman in car by lipik/Shutterstock Images; hillside with wildflowers by O. David Goodwin/Shutterstock Images; background mountains by Maciej Bledowski/Shutterstock Images
Cover design and composed art by Emily Osborne
Book design by Laura K. Corless
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Version_1
CONTENTS
Praise for
Also by Marin Thomas
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Acknowledgments
Readers Guide
Letter to the Reader
About the Author
For Kevin . . . I still believe you’re the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I love you.
CHAPTER ONE
“Ammonium thioglycolate, also called perm salt, is murder on your hair.”
The famous courtroom scene in the movie Legally Blonde flashed through Katelyn Pratt’s mind as she sat in the Savvy Salon, listening to the stylist lecture her mother-in-law on the dangers of perming her hair too often.
Katelyn set her sketch pad aside and took her iPhone out of her purse. She Googled ammonium thioglycolate: a pungent, colorless, clear liquid that burns the eyes, nose, lungs, and may explode if subjected to high heat—that described Shirley Pratt to a T. She tapped the Wikipedia icon and continued to read. A chemical used in the manufacturing of plastics, bombs, pesticides and dyes. Dear God. These poisons had been seeping into her mother-in-law’s skull for years. No wonder the sixty-four-year-old was a walking, talking, toxic know-it-all.
“When you’re finished with my hair, Pam, maybe you could tame that horse mane my daughter-in-law wears on her head.”
The zinger rolled off Katelyn’s shoulders, and she resumed sketching the flower vase on the table next to her. Shirley detested long hair, and that was why Katelyn never cut hers.
“She’s under the dryer.”
Katelyn glanced up from her pad and smiled at Shirley’s hairdresser. “How long until you finish with her?”
“Forty minutes.” Pam’s eyes flicked to the styling chair, then back to Katelyn. “If she doesn’t give her hair a break from perms, she’s going to molt like a bighorn sheep.”
That wouldn’t be so bad if her mother-in-law shed her horns along with her hair. “I’ll mention it to her.” But Shirley wouldn’t appreciate the advice. The day she’d moved into her son’s house—not her son and daughter-in-law’s house—she’d made it clear that any comments regarding her age or appearance would not be welcome. The same rule, however, did not apply to Katelyn, whom Shirley criticized whenever the urge hit, which was pretty darn often.
“As much as I love
taking her money,” Pam said, “she won’t do me any good if she ends up bald. I don’t want to see her in the salon before November.”
Five months from now? No way would a woman who refused to leave the house without makeup and a fresh manicure ignore her hair for eighteen weeks.
“I need to run an errand. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Katelyn stuffed the sketch pad into her canvas tote bag, then left the salon, ducking her head against the rain. A cold front had moved through St. Louis overnight, leaving early June feeling like late October. She drove Shirley’s silver Mercedes to the other side of the strip mall and parked in front of Henderson Drug. When she entered the store, she went straight to the Hallmark aisle. Her husband should be the one picking out a card for his mother, but she couldn’t remember the last time Don had been in town for Shirley’s birthday.
The pain-in-the-butt’s favorite color was blue, so Katelyn selected a gaudy pink card with neon orange and yellow smiley-face flowers. On the way to the register, she passed an umbrella stand and plucked a plastic rain cap from the display. Heaven forbid Shirley get her hair wet and ruin her perm when she left the salon.
While Katelyn waited in the checkout line, she browsed the retail gift cards. She assumed Don would bring his mother a gift from Japan, but Shirley had nothing to open on her actual birthday tomorrow. She selected a fifty-dollar Starbucks card. Gift cards were impersonal, but it was the begrudging thought that counted. Besides, she got credit for baking Shirley’s favorite cake this morning—chocolate fudge.
“Hello.” Katelyn set her items on the counter.
The teenage clerk ignored the greeting and asked, “Do you have a Henderson Drug card?”
Her discount cards for the various stores she frequented hung on the key chain for her Hyundai Santa Fe, which she’d left at the house after Shirley insisted Katelyn drive her car today. “Can I give you my phone number?” She recited the digits, then swiped her debit card.
A moment later the teen’s robotic voice said, “Thank you for shopping Henderson Drugs. Next, please.”
Katelyn returned to the salon in time to watch Pam spray a final layer of shellac on Shirley’s café au lait curls. While the two women settled the bill, she texted her son, Michael.
Hi, honey. Grandma Pratt turns 65 tomorrow. Don’t forget to wish her a Happy Birthday. Hope U R doing ok. Call me when U have free time. She added a heart emoticon, then hit send. Michael would eventually answer her—he always did.
A long, lonely summer loomed ahead of Katelyn. She’d been looking forward to spending time with the twins before they headed off to college, but the kids had made other plans. Michael had wanted to get a jump on prerequisite classes for his engineering major and had enrolled in summer school at the University of Michigan. He’d moved into his new apartment in Ann Arbor two weeks ago. Melissa had been accepted into Shirley’s alma mater, Stephens College, in Columbia, Missouri, and she was traveling in Greece and Italy until mid-July with a group of incoming freshmen.
Shirley fake-patted her hair. “What do you think?”
“Lovely.” The hairstyle looked the same as it always did—old-fashioned. Katelyn held out the plastic cap. Shirley put it on, then walked to the door.
“You forgot your purse.” Katelyn pointed to the counter and Shirley retrieved her handbag; then they left the salon.
Once they were on their way home, she asked Grumpy Cat, “Where would you like to go for your birthday lunch?”
“Nowhere.” Shirley acted as if she didn’t care about celebrating her birthday, but Katelyn knew better. If her father-in-law, Robert, hadn’t dropped dead from a massive heart attack three years ago, her mother-in-law would be partying in Kansas City with her wealthy friends. But a series of phone calls shortly after Robert’s funeral had prompted Don to invite his mother to live with them.
The first call had come from the housekeeper after she’d discovered the gas stove had been left on while Shirley had been out shopping. The second call had come from the bank after Shirley had failed to pay the mortgage two months in a row. And the third call had come from the pastor at Shirley’s church, who’d informed Don that his mother had put her credit card in the donation plate during Sunday services. Shirley’s slipups had worried Don and he’d insisted his mother sell her home and move to St. Louis. Katelyn remembered the conversation as if it had happened yesterday and not 1,112 days ago.
“My mother’s moving in with us,” Don said.
Katelyn hovered in the master bathroom doorway, watching her husband pack his toiletry bag. “You mean for a month or two while she house hunts?”
His gaze skipped over her. “It’s not like we don’t have room for her.”
“That isn’t the point.”
“What is the point, Katelyn?”
“Your mother doesn’t like me.” Don had joked when they’d dated in college that he’d been attracted to Katelyn because she had nothing in common with his mother. That was well and good when two hundred miles had separated them—not so well and good when they lived under the same roof.
“It’s not safe for her to live alone. She could burn the house down if she leaves the stove on again,” he said.
“It was one time, Don. Besides, it’s normal for someone to be forgetful after losing a loved one. Your father’s death was sudden and unexpected. Give her time and she’ll settle down.”
“I don’t want to take any chances with her safety.”
“Then move her into an assisted-living facility.”
“She’s not that bad off yet.”
“She’s been fine when I’ve talked to her on the phone.”
Don ignored her protests. “The kids will enjoy having her around.”
Katelyn left the bathroom and threw herself across the bed. There was no shortage of adjectives to describe her mother-in-law. Opinionated. Bossy. Snooty.
Don sat next to her on the mattress and put on his shoes. “You’ll be busy with the twins and that art group you belong to. I doubt my mother will get in your way. Besides, she’ll make her own friends and go off with them.”
Don had been dead wrong. Since moving in with them, Shirley had made zero friends. None. Nada. Zip. The woman had made no effort to connect with others her age and had even snubbed the ladies’ bridge club after Katelyn had begged her elderly neighbor, Mrs. Krantz, to invite her into the group. And as Katelyn had predicted, after a few months of processing her husband’s death and the move to a new city, Shirley’s memory appeared fine except for the normal signs of old-age forgetfulness like not remembering the date or where she set her purse.
“Your mother’s fine,” she told Don three months after Shirley had moved in with them. “She baked a cake yesterday for the kids and remembered to turn off the oven. And she’s been running her own errands and finding her way back home. She’s ready to move into her own place.”
“She just got settled with us and now you want to kick her out?”
A thump in the hallway caught Katelyn’s attention and she poked her head out the bedroom door, but there was no one in sight. “Will you please broach the subject with your mother and see how she reacts?”
“I’ll talk to her when I return from my trip.” Don kissed Katelyn’s cheek, grabbed his suitcase and left the house. The next day Shirley took the car to run to the grocery store; then two hours later Katelyn’s phone rang.
“Is everything okay?” Katelyn asked.
“I don’t know where I am.”
“Didn’t you go to the grocery store?”
“I must have taken a wrong turn.”
“Where are you right now?”
“In a parking lot. There’s a donut shop and a cleaner’s.”
“What’s the name of the cleaner’s?”
“Fresh Press Laundry.”
The business was only four blocks from the house. “Stay put. I�
�ll be right there.” Katelyn had driven to the shopping center and then made Shirley follow her home. From that day on, her mother-in-law asked to be chauffeured everywhere. When Katelyn suggested seeing a doctor, Shirley had thrown a hissy fit.
The sudden memory loss had Katelyn wondering if the older woman had eavesdropped on her conversation with Don. But then the following week, Shirley misplaced her wallet and appeared genuinely distressed. They’d torn up the house searching for it, but hadn’t found it until the following day when Katelyn took an empty detergent bottle out to the recycle bin and discovered the wallet sitting on top of the garbage can. How it had ended up there was a mystery that had never been solved, and Katelyn had been forced to accept that Shirley’s occasional forgetfulness wasn’t intentional and that her mother-in-law would be living in her home for the foreseeable future.
Once the queen bee knew she wouldn’t be thrown out, she’d gleefully assumed the role of the de facto matriarch of the Pratt clan. Katelyn had complained to Don, insisting he put his mother in her place, but Shirley had emerged from those talks believing she still outranked Katelyn—no doubt recognizing that Don had acted as his wife’s messenger.
It wasn’t until Melissa asked Katelyn why she bickered with Grandma all the time that she realized the twins had been paying attention to the power struggle between their mother and their grandmother. She cared more about what her kids thought of her than of her mother-in-law, so she’d backed off and chosen her battles wisely and when the kids weren’t around.
“Let’s have your birthday lunch downtown at the Old Spaghetti Factory.” Katelyn turned the wipers up a notch.
“I’d rather wait and celebrate when Don returns.”
Both Katelyn and Don were only children, and in Shirley’s eyes her son could do no wrong. According to her, Don not only walked on water—he’d invented it. Katelyn got along fine with her mother, Birdie, but they weren’t close. Often a couple of weeks would go by before one of them called to check in.
“Denny’s offers a free birthday lunch,” Katelyn said.
