The answer? Her overbearing mother. That's why she tried hard not to press Daly; she knew what it felt like from the child's perspective. Lot of good her restraint did, though—her daughter still avoided her like the plague.
Nonetheless, the distance suited Laine just fine. In the initial months following Oliver's death, she and Daly hadn't been on the same page. Daly so clearly needed her—as any girl needs her mother—someone to ooo and aah over her latest artistic achievement, to share in schoolyard gossip, or to help her as she discovered life and grew into a woman. But Laine remained stuck in her own grief, and by the time she recognized the need to connect with her daughter, she'd already been shut out.
She tried at first, but teenaged Daly was stubborn and the effort proved fruitless. Over time, Laine discovered it was much easier to embroil herself in the wily adventures of a certain Miss Jane Eyre than to confront her own story. She preferred the worlds nestled between the pages of a good book to her real, material life. Daly clearly found her ventures into these vicarious worlds of fiction pathetic, but it was the only thing Laine had left.
If she couldn't have her Oliver, at least she would borrow Clarissa Chatterley's from time-to-time. DH Lawrence described Oliver Mellors as brawny and tan with a Derbyshire accent, but she always pictured him as her very-much-alive sweetheart. How she wished she'd never seen her husband's cold, lifeless body at the funeral home. That image imprinted on her mind, her own personal horror show, trapping her with either this ghastly image or with his living shadow. Both images caused too much grief—more than she could handle.
God, Daly looks so much like her father. That was the other problem. Her daughter had inherited his bold jaw line, contrast of pale skin with dark hair, large glossy eyes, slightly oversized nose, and lanky stature. This striking resemblance shackled Laine to her pain, which she just wanted to lay to rest, forever in her mind.
She couldn't forget the fateful day when Oliver had nicked himself shaving. The blood wouldn't stop....
A knock sounded on the door.
Oh, thank goodness! Laine shook the memory clean away and wiped her hands off on the polka-dotted apron as she rushed to the door. Outside, Meghann stood rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.
Laine's voice came out broken, so she covered-up with a smile. "Why, hello, what are you doing here so early?"
Meghann squeezed through the doorway. She did not smile. "Well, I was having a really hard time at home. My mom was busy cooking with my aunts and cousins, and every time I tried to come into the kitchen to help, she'd make some excuse to shoo me away. I embarrassed her, and I didn't want to be somewhere where nobody wanted me around. So I left."
"I'm sorry you've had such a rough start to your day," Laine said, pulling the girl into an embrace. "You're always welcome here, okay?"
Meghann offered a half-hearted smile.
Laine changed the subject. "What's that you've brought with you?"
"This?" Meghann lifted the Pyrex dish she clutched with both hands. "I tried to make a recipe solo. It probably would've been a lot better if you'd helped, but I wanted to contribute something."
"I'm sure it's perfectly delicious. What did you bring us? Smells like...." She inhaled deeply and took in the scents of fried onions, cream, and mushrooms. "Green bean casserole?"
"You're good!" Meghann said, shrugging out of her coat.
"It's a talent," she joked, fluffing her hair theatrically.
Meghann giggled and followed her to the kitchen. "When will Daly be over?"
"In...." Laine craned her neck to check the time on the microwave. "An hour and a half or so. Did I tell you? She'll be bringing her new boyfriend with her."
"Her new boyfriend, huh? He must be pretty great, seeing as I've barely even seen her the past few weeks."
"I haven't seen her much, either, and she supposedly lives here."
"Have you met Kashi yet? What did you think?"
Kashi. That's his name! She repeated it in her head several times, and even pictured it in a typed sentence, so as to commit it to memory. "Not yet. Today will be the first time."
"I met him once, back before they were officially dating."
"Really? How?"
"When we went to the mall. We ran into him by accident. In fact, it's probably because of me they're together now. Meghann Biljack, matchmaker extraordinaire." She took a bow, waving her hand out to the side like a beauty queen.
Laine allowed a smile to spread across her features. If Meghann had played a part in Daly's new relationship, then so, too, had she.
"Can I help prepare dinner?"
"Ready for another lesson, eh?" She liked herself around Meghann, but why couldn't she be the same way with her own daughter? Maybe relationships were like cooking—it was easier to prepare a recipe from scratch than to salvage one after a series of mistakes.
Meghann was either privy to Laine's internal thoughts, or she had amazing timing. "So how are things been with you and Daly?"
She stopped stirring the gravy and lowered the wire whisk to the counter. "What do you mean?"
"You’re an amazing counselor, and like a billion times smarter than me, but I couldn't help noticing the relationship between you and Daly is a little... strained."
Laine bit her lower lip and glanced toward the floor. Were her lacking parenting skills really so obvious to everyone? She crossed to the fridge and took out a lemon. "Almost forgot, we need to get some zest for the cranberry sauce."
"I'm sorry. I don't want to upset you, but I also understand how much a girl needs her mother—especially now, since mine wants nothing to do with me and all." Meghann dabbed at the corners of her eyes and sniffed.
Laine came in for another hug. "Meghann, I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about your mother?"
"No, I want to talk about your daughter. Like I said, my mother couldn't care less about me, but your daughter loves you, and she wants your attention."
She sighed. "Things aren't as simple as you think."
"They don't need to be complicated unless you make them complicated. Mrs. Daly, I mean no disrespect. I'm asking because I love you and want you to be happy. I want to help, if I can."
"But why are you talking to me about this?"
Meghann stayed silent, turning her doe eyes toward Laine.
"Oh, you've already talked to Daly, haven't you?" Scattered pieces connected in her brain. "She spoke to me a while ago. Is that why?"
Meghann nodded. "You see, she wants to fix things. She's willing to meet you partway. What could be easier?"
"But you don't understand. Our relation is quite... complicated."
Meghann placed a hand on Laine's shoulder. "You know what to do. You need to be there for her. Do things with her, share experiences. Basically, the same types of things you do with me."
"It sounds so simple when you say it, but this isn't easy to put into practice. I don't think I'm capable of reaching out."
"Of course you are. Don't be so hard on yourself. All things in time." Meghann skipped over to the sink to rinse the cranberries, ending the uncomfortable conversation.
Laine didn't want to resuscitate it, either. Instead, she turned the knob on the gas stove, added some blueberry juice and cane sugar to a saucepan, and waited for the dark liquid to boil. After chopping a pear into fine slices, she crushed a half cup of pecans.
The cranberry sauce was almost finished before either spoke again.
"So," Laine's voice cut into the thick silence. "How is your studying going? You'll be finished with this semester sometime in January, right?"
"Yep, only a month and a half left of my formal high school education. It's pretty pointless, anyway. I mean, I'm studying twelfth grade pre-calculus for my test, but I'm stuck in ninth grade algebra in class. Mostly, I just let my mind wander. I've been trying to think of names." Her emerald eyes lit up.
"Oh? And what did you settle on?"
"I still don't know if it's a boy or a girl, but I'm thinking if he
's a boy, Elijah, or if she's a girl, Grace or maybe Hope. I kind of think he'll be a boy, my little Eli." She used one arm to cradle her belly and the other to pat it tenderly.
"Elijah?" Laine parroted, surprised she hadn't picked something more modern like Peyton or Jackson. "How did you come up with such a unique name?"
Meghann didn't hesitate for a second. "In the Bible, Elijah is one of the most important prophets. God loved him so much that rather than let him die, he took him straight into Heaven riding a chariot of fire. I like to think God will love my little one every bit as much and take good care of him. I will do my best, too, but God is so much better at these things than I am." She giggled. "Besides, Elijah proclaimed change for the Israelites, and helped them move in the right direction.
"This baby is my hope and my saving grace. He saved me from dying and made me actually want to live. Well, I guess that explains my choices for the girl names, too. I think every name should have an important meaning. You're basically stuck for life, plus names make a big difference in how you turn out. Mine, for example, means pearl—stupid, right? I can't help thinking if I'd been named something like Grace, my life might be entirely different."
Laine bobbed her head. "My name means light. I don't feel very enlightening."
"But you are! You've helped me a ton." Meghann returned from her far-off mental playground. She reached away from the partially sliced yams to give Laine's hand a squeeze. "I don't know where I'd be if you hadn't helped me. I wouldn't know about the option of taking the GED, or how to override the child labor laws so I could get a fulltime job to support little Eli and me. You're my light."
"Mom, I'm here." Daly strode through the doorway with a wicker basket full of crafts in hand.
Meghann rushed from the kitchen to greet her. "Hey, stranger," she squealed, giving Daly a jab on the shoulder. "Way to disappear on us!"
"I know, I know, I'm sorry." Daly swung the overstuffed basket from side to side, displaying a cluster of clay turkey candle holders, paper pilgrim napkin rings, and hand-woven fall placemats. "But look, I made party favors!"
"Oh, how cute!" Meghann nabbed a paper turkey and imitated the real-life fowl's strut.
Laine strolled out while wiping her hands on the apron slung over her hips. "Okay, so where's Kashi? We've been waiting so patiently to meet him."
Is she actually excited to meet him or just playing nice because Meghann is here?
She decided to assume the best—this was Thanksgiving, after all. "Don't worry, he's coming. He's just out in the car gathering up everything to bring in. He made a spicy creamed spinach dish for us called palak, p-a-l-a-k, paneer. It's really, really good."
She giggled. Neither Laine nor Meghann understood her joke, of course, but Meghann laughed anyway.
Kashi entered at that moment. Daly still couldn't believe he'd chosen to wear a dark gray suit with a pilgrim-buckle tie. She'd told him not to dress up, but he'd refused to listen, insisting he must look "properly presentable" to meet her mother for the first time.
"Hello," Kashi sang, extending his hand first to Laine and then to Meghann.
Meghann guffawed in delight, bringing her hand to cover her mouth, as Kashi introduced himself.
"I'm Akash, but I go by Kashi—like the granola cereal." He shot Daly a mischievous look.
"Hello, Kashi. Nice to finally meet you." Laine said as she shook his hand.
"Yeah, I love your tie!" Meghann chimed in.
"Thanks, I got it just for this occasion. Now, how can I help?"
Laine led him to the kitchen, then turned back to Daly and said, "Such manners. I like him already." Hurrying to the kitchen, she instructed Kashi in putting the finishing touches on the turkey.
Daly stayed with Meghann in the dining room and watched her mother bustling around Kashi. So she likes everyone better than me? Is that it?
"C'mon, both of you. I could use your help, too," Laine called.
Soon the decorations and their feast adorned the table.
Laine handed a silver carving knife to Kashi. "I'll give you the biggest honor of all—carving."
He accepted the knife and made an incision down the middle, then pulled the meat apart with the serving fork. After making several more slashes, he placed a large piece on Laine's plate, and an even larger piece on Meghann's.
"Hey," Meghann cried. "You're giving me too much!"
"You must eat properly. Got to feed two, right?"
"Oh, don't worry about me." She grinned sheepishly. "I'll be sure to eat more than my share. Mostly of mashed potatoes and stuffing and pie, but still.... Here, I'll share with Daly." She scooped half the meat onto Daly's empty plate.
"Then I guess that leaves just me." He took a large, succulent leg that filled up nearly half his plate. "This is my first traditional Thanksgiving meal. I'm very excited!"
"Try some of everything then, and, everyone, help yourselves!" Laine passed the potatoes to Daly and ladled some stuffing onto her plate.
"Mmm, mmm. This is so tasty." Kashi smacked his lips. "My compliments to the chef."
"Yeah, Mom's always had a knack for this kind of thing."
"I made the green beans!" Meghann interjected.
"And that is my most favorite dish." Kashi winked.
Meghann beamed as she pushed her corn into her mashed potatoes and mixed them together, then plopped a giant hunk of butter onto the pile.
"Uh, what are you doing?" Kashi asked.
"Oh, corny-mash. My favorite!" Meghann explained between bites. "An old family tradition."
"Hmm... interesting." Kashi served himself a second helping of each dish and combined the two as Meghann had done. "Should I add gravy, too?"
"No, you don't need to," Meghann answered. "It's perfect as is."
Kashi raised the heaping forkful to his mouth and chewed with gusto. "That is nice," he said, reaching for a second bite.
"Eww, Meghann." Daly cringed. "Why are you teaching him weird eating habits? Gross."
"It's actually very tasty. Here, try." He stuffed a bite into Daly's mouth before she could refuse.
"Hey! You can't force-feed me." Daly chewed, swallowed, and took a drink of water. "But that is pretty good. You wouldn't think so, but it is."
Laine took a sip from her water glass. "You are all absolutely disgusting."
"No, we're not!" Meghann shouted defensively.
"Try it, Mom."
"Like it or not, here I come." Kashi took a spoonful from his plate and zoomed over to Laine's side of the table like a race car—sound effects and all.
"Okay, okay. You're all annoyingly persistent. I'll give it a try, but let me feed myself, all right?" Laine made the concoction on her plate, skipping the addition of butter, and then took a tentative nibble. "Okay, this isn't bad exactly, but I prefer my mashed potatoes with gravy and my corn souffléd."
She cleared her throat and focused on Kashi's outlandish tie. "Anyway, Kashi, I’d love to hear all about you. I'd have asked Daly for details but she's been a bit unreachable the past couple weeks."
"Oops, sorry. I didn't mean to steal your daughter. I've just been enjoying her company so much."
For the next half hour, Kashi regaled the women with stories of his life growing up in India, including a lengthy discussion about the complex rules of cricket. When he'd finished, Laine stood and tapped a spoon against her glass of cranberry spritzer.
"Okay, everyone, time for the most important part of the day. One by one, we're going to go around the table and say what we're thankful for. This is an unavoidable part of the holiday, and I expect everyone to give an explanation, not just a quick one-word answer."
"I'll go first." She paused before setting her glass down. "Meghann, of all the young women I've worked with over the years, something about you has me certain you will turn out so special. You already are—no matter what your mother or your stepfather or anyone else says. I believe in you."
Meghann smiled awkwardly.
Daly's chest tighten
ed. She forced herself to stare at the table, and blinked back a few tears.
Laine continued. "Daly, I just want to tell you I love you, and I'm sorry if I've been a less-than-perfect mother. With your help, I'd like to try to be better." She offered Meghann—not Daly—a timid smile as she sank into her seat.
For a brief second, Daly couldn't believe what she had heard. Laine had opened up to her—and not just her, but all of them. When she glanced toward Meghann, the younger girl greeted her with a broad smile.
"I'll go next," Daly volunteered, jumping to her feet. "Mom, thank you. You know a little part of me always wanted to be like you. When I was nine, I even stole your copy of Lady Chatterley. Remember when it went missing… the first time? I read the entire thing, trying to see what you liked so much about it. I never did figure that out, but I did get sent home from school early for saying the F-word in class." Maybe not the best anecdote, but it was the best she could do to connect with her mother on such short notice. She sank into her chair, happy her turn was over.
As Meghann began to rise from her chair, Daly shot back up again. "Oh, crap, I forgot. That wasn't everything! I'm also thankful for my beautiful friend, Meghann. You inspire me every single day. And, of course, my wonderful boyfriend, Kashi." She placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze.
"I've never met anyone like you, and I'm glad fate brought us together." She wanted to remind Kashi how much she loved him, but didn't feel comfortable saying those three little words in front of Meghann or her mother—both of whom had been badly burned by love. Instead, she sat and motioned to Meghann, who had stayed poised in an awkward position, somewhere between sitting and standing, as she awaited her turn.
"Well," Meghann started, picking up her spoon and using it as a makeshift microphone. "Sticking with the theme we've got going." She giggled. "I'm also thankful for great friends. Mrs. Daly, you've been such a blessing through all this. Little Daly, you've been so encouraging, and you've made things fun again. The two of you are pretty much all I've got left. That is, except for the person I am the most thankful for." She patted her belly.
A Colorful Life: Drawn in Broken Crayon Page 12
