Mother of Prevention

by Lori Copeland

  “Okay. Let me change clothes and we’ll go.” I considered my usual jeans and sweatshirt, but instead pulled on navy blue dress pants and a rose-and-navy-print blouse, a final birthday gift from Neil.

  The girls had gone back across the drive by now. I grabbed a packet of microwave popcorn and the bottle of juice. At the last moment I decided to take the video, wishing I had more to contribute, but Mazi liked to cook. She probably had six trays of snacks already prepared.

  She met us at the door, beaming. “I’m so glad you could still make it. Warren’s upstairs so he won’t expose you to the virus.” She beamed. “It looked for a minute like I was going to spend the evening alone. Just me and the TV.”

  “Miss a belated New Year’s Eve party?” I deadpanned. “You know me—a real party animal.”

  The girls had spread a quilt in front of the television. The cats were scattered around them. Kelli lay stretched out on her stomach, chin propped in her hands, while Mimi walked up and down her spine. Mystic and Minto curled up next to Kris with their topaz eyes cracked open slightly to stare at me.

  I carried my offerings to the kitchen and Mazi eyed them as if she’d never seen sparkling grape juice before. “Juice?”

  “It’s a Madison family tradition.”

  “Oh. Well, sure. We’ll drink a toast at midnight.”

  I dropped into my usual chair and relaxed, weary from the day’s stress. Instead of getting easier, it seemed as if the personnel problems at work were coming more frequently. Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be a manager.

  Mazi had set the table with her best china and crystal goblets. We were getting the full treatment tonight. Everything looked delicious, and suddenly I was hungry. She had a cheese ball to die for. One dab on a cracker and I could have eaten the whole thing.

  Mazi paused in filling her plate. “I fixed beds on the sun-porch for the girls to have a sleepover, if that’s all right.”

  I started to protest, but they begged to stay, so I gave in. But that meant I’d have to go home alone. An empty house, all by myself?

  Mazi couldn’t get enough food tonight. She went back to the table several times to fill her plate. I could never understand her eating habits. One day she ate as if there was no tomorrow, and the next she starved herself, consequently throwing her into a really foul mood. I wondered if I should point out temperance in all things, but then decided Mazi’s eating habits were none of my business.

  Around midnight we poured the white grape juice into the footed crystal glasses. I watched, worried, as Kelli and Kris took theirs.

  “Those goblets are probably expensive. I’d hate for them to get broken.”

  “My dear Kate. The only way Kelli and Kris are going to learn to care for and enjoy nice things is by use. If the glasses get broken, well, they’re just glasses. I want the girls to remember they drank out of the best tonight.”

  I realized she was right. We had to use things to appreciate them, and Kris’s and Kelli’s ability to develop memories hadn’t died with Neil. I needed to adopt more of Mazi’s attitude. Things were, after all, just things, and that included crystal goblets.

  Mazi was doing everything to make us comfortable. She’d even made popcorn balls for the girls. I filled my plate with shrimp and water chestnut pastry cups, filled mushrooms and more of the cheese ball. I had no right to criticize Mazi’s over-indulgence. After all, tonight was special.

  Mazi got up from the table. “I need to check on Warren. I’ll be right back.”

  She left the room, and again I worried that we might disturb him. But then, the girls were quietly watching television and Mazi and I weren’t exactly tooting horns and yelling. It was a very low-key celebration.

  She came back into the room and answered my questioning lift of the eyebrows. “He’s fine. Sleeping.”

  The girls watched the video and even Mazi got interested, although she left the room a few times to check on Warren, which made me nervous. If he was that sick, we really shouldn’t be here.

  The girls couldn’t make it much past midnight. Once we’d shared our ceremonial toast, they sacked out on their pallets. Everything in me wanted them home tonight. With me. They were tired, but we could have gone home. However, Mazi begged us to stay and I could see she was lonely. She switched the television off and we nursed our grape juice.

  “Warren really should see a doctor in the morning.” Actually I didn’t really care about his state. I was royally miffed at him for leaving Mazi alone so much.

  She laughed, staring into her glass. “He’s not as sick as he thinks he is. Warren takes good care of Warren.”

  I detected a hint of bitterness beneath her good-natured manner. Well, who could blame her? Sure he must make good money, judging from their home, but nothing could take the place of having a companion to share that home. Nobody knew that better than me.

  Mazi left the room again and I helped myself to more cheese ball. If I didn’t stop eating, my first act of the New Year would be a stringent diet.

  My host returned and I asked, “So, what do you think the next year will bring?” I popped a jalapeño popper into my mouth.

  Mazi was once again her usually bubbly self. I noticed she discreetly put her plate in the trash. “For starters, maybe we’ll both find the gold at the end of the rainbow.”

  “And we’ll be stars on TV.”

  She pursed her lips “The White House will call for advice on how to plan a state dinner.”

  “We’ll open a restaurant in Chinatown.”

  “And top the list of the world’s best-dressed women.”

  I toasted her with grape juice. “It was a lucky day when I moved into your neighborhood.”

  She nodded. “A lucky day for the both of us. Do you still miss Oklahoma?”

  I thought about it. “I miss Liv. She was my best friend. Moving here was hard and, yes, there are days when I’m still mad at God for taking Neil and turning my world upside down.”

  Mazi smiled. “That’s just the pain talking. You’ll feel differently someday.”

  I nibbled on a cracker. Maybe I’d get over my anger at God, but I didn’t think I’d ever adjust to California—too much traffic, a job that was proving to be more stressful than flying. “I don’t think I will, but I’m learning I can’t run away from my past or my fears. Some days I feel like I’ve made matters worse by leaving Oklahoma City.” I paused for a moment. “Do you think God is trying to teach me something and if so, what?”

  “Wow. You know more about God’s ways than I do. If He’s trying to teach you anything, maybe it’s patience. Or stronger faith?”

  I sighed.

  “And who knows. Someday you’ll meet someone and remarry—”

  I shook my head. “I’ve heard too many horror stories about stepfathers. I won’t subject Kelli or Kris to a stranger and make them call him father. No one will ever take Neil’s place. For them or for me.”

  She grinned. “Have you met our postman? He’s kind of cute and he’s single.”

  At that she reached over and said softly, “You never said how your anniversary went. That night, when the kids told me it was your anniversary, I said a prayer for you, and you know I don’t pray.”

  My mind skipped back to January 5. Bummer of a day. Neil and I would have been married nine years. I didn’t think the kids had remembered and I wasn’t sure Mazi even knew.

  I’d watched my top stylist, Connie, leave that afternoon and suddenly I’d known I couldn’t go home in my state. I’d have been bawling all night and upset the girls. I’d needed to do something. Get away by myself. It had struck me that I hadn’t been by myself since Neil died. Unless you counted the nights I slept alone, wishing he was there beside me.

  I had called Mazi. “Look, I’ve got something to do. Can you feed the girls supper?”

  “Sure, Kate. Everything all right?”

  I realized my agitation was probably saturating the telephone line. “I just need a little time alone.”

 
“Take all the time you need,” she offered. “We’ll be right here.”

  I hung up the phone and stared out the window. So now I had time alone. What was I going to do with it? I decided that I needed to celebrate our anniversary. Not the way it would have been if Neil were alive, but something to set the day apart so it wouldn’t be just another day.

  I pulled out the telephone book and looked for restaurants, deciding on a little French bistro not too far from the salon. My burst of independence didn’t include a drive across town.

  I combed my hair, retouched my makeup and dabbed cologne on my wrist from the tester that sat on the counter. Good stuff. I smelled like a celebration.

  The restaurant was cozy without sacrificing elegance. White tablecloths, green linen napkins, waiters in black suits and white shirts and a manner that fell somewhere between haughty and friendly. I ordered coq au vin and an endive salad. The food was delicious. I tried not to enjoy it, but found that I did. I also enjoyed being alone, although it didn’t feel as if I were really alone. Neil was there, sitting opposite me. Smiling. Eyes openly adoring me.

  I lifted my water glass to him. “Here’s to nine perfect years, darling.” I drank deeply. Set my glass down. Smiled.

  Clearing my throat, I made him a promise. “I’m going to make it, Neil. I’m stronger than I thought. At first I was so mad at you for leaving us, but now I forgive you. I know you didn’t want to leave us, and I know that somewhere up there you’re watching over us.

  “What?” I cocked my head. “You bought me something? You shouldn’t!” I pretended to carefully slip the ribbon off a gold-foiled box. Opened the lid and gasped.

  “This is too much!” Diamond earrings—the exact pair from Gaylord’s Jewelry window.

  I brought my hand to my heart. “How did you know?”

  I grinned and leaned to kiss him. Then I caught sight of the young couple seated at the next table, who were staring at me as if I’d just sprouted wings.

  Straightening, I lifted the menu to cover my face and dispensed with my game.

  Pretending to peruse the dessert menu, I secretly kept an eye on the young couple, who had returned to their conversation. I had a feeling they weren’t married. I also had a feeling they weren’t going to be. They had two kids with them, a boy and a girl, maybe a little older than my two. They weren’t behaving very well. The young mother tried, but the kids were on a roll.

  The children didn’t like the food, didn’t like the restaurant and, what was really obvious, they didn’t like the man. I remembered the way Kris and Kelli had reacted to Gray Mitchell.

  The woman glanced my way and I smiled. She reluctantly smiled back, and I knew she sensed my sympathy. Kids. They had a way of making their feelings known.

  Later I had left the restaurant and drove toward home, but a mile away I pulled into a small park at the top of a hill and turned off the motor. I could not believe this was me. Sitting alone in a parked car late at night. The Kate who left Oklahoma would never have dreamed of doing something so ill-advised.

  I watched the moon bathing the Golden Gate Bridge in mellow light. The past months had brought changes not only to my life, but to me.

  I had done things I’d never have dreamed of doing. Made choices I wish I’d never had to make. I let my thoughts turn to Neil and I felt a peace gently settle around my heart, as though he’d put his arm around me and said, “You’ve done well, Kate. You’re going to be fine.”

  I stared at the moon for a long time before I started the motor and drove home. I had a feeling Neil would have been pleased with the way I’d celebrated our anniversary. Maybe I’d make this a tradition, getting away by myself for a couple of hours each year to take stock of life and to remember him, the love of my life.

  I fingered my imaginary “gift” and thought, Well, hey. Life stinks sometimes, but it’s the best thing going.

  When I had pecked on Mazi’s door and she’d opened it she’d been sporting an anxious frown. “You all right, Kate?”

  “I’m fine, Mazi. Sorry to be so late. I’ll tell you all about it later. Are the girls asleep?”

  “Yeah. I’ll help you carry them across.”

  Mazi had taken Kelli, and I’d carried Kris. We’d stepped across the hedge and headed toward the back door. Kris had lifted her head sleepily. “Is everything all right, Mommy?”

  “Everything’s fine, sweetheart. Mommy just needed some time alone tonight.”

  “We were worried,” Kelli had murmured, picking up the thread of conversation.

  “Nothing to worry about. How about hot chocolate before we go to bed?”

  The girls had come alive. “Can we stay up and watch television?” they’d asked in unison.

  “Not a chance. Tomorrow is a school day. One cup of chocolate, then off to bed you go.” Mazi had deposited Kelli, and I had put Kris on the porch step as I hunted for my keys.

  The two girls had raced ahead inside ahead of me.

  I’d glanced up at the moon one last time. I had worried and dreaded this day for weeks; all my fears had been for nothing. I’d had a lovely anniversary.

  And I loved my pretend earrings.

  And until this moment I had never told another soul about my make-believe anniversary.

  Not even my daughters.

  Week three of January I decided to treat myself. I had worked so much overtime that I figured the salon could do without me for a few hours. I was looking for new bills as the postman arrived with a handful. I liked the way he looked—sandy hair, not really tall, but muscular and with eyes as blue as the bay on a sunny day. I liked his manner, too. There was something about him that said he would be dependable. Not flashy, just an all-around good Joe.

  Golly, Neil. I’m moving along too fast now, darling.

  “Morning, Kate.”

  “Good morning, Lee.” I’d bumped into him several times and we had gradually progressed to first names. I felt comfortable with the familiarity.

  “You doing all right?” he asked.

  I sighed, and suddenly I found myself telling him how much I missed Oklahoma.

  He leaned against the side of the porch railing. “I’m a transplanted Texan myself. I still miss it. My boys live there, you know.”

  I didn’t know. “I think the worse part of moving is leaving your friends behind. I really miss my neighbors and my church family. I’d never realized how long it takes to make new ones.”

  He gave me a friendly grin. “Someone like you shouldn’t have trouble making friends.”

  “No. I guess I don’t, but you only make one at a time. It takes a while to gain back as many as you’ve lost.”

  He laughed. “Are you keeping score?”

  I blushed, thinking I must have sounded like an idiot. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

  His expression turned serious. “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve got a few friends here, but nothing like I had in Dallas.”

  I’d told him about Neil and our life in Oklahoma, but he’d not said much about his past. I drew a deep breath and asked a question I would never have believed I’d have nerve enough or even want to ask.

  “Have you remarried?” Maybe I needed to know that a person could start over when the time was right.

  He studied the toe of his shoe. “No, never remarried.”

  Why had I asked? When would I learn to keep my thoughts to myself? This was a subject that he probably didn’t want to talk about.

  He shook his head. “The ex said I stifled her ‘artistic nature.’”

  “Really.” I didn’t know her, but already I’d formed a preconceived notion—I wouldn’t like her.

  He flashed another boyish grin. “You heard right. I stifled her artistic nature. She took a few art classes and suddenly she was Rembrandt reincarnated.”

  “Did she have real talent?”

  He shrugged. “Well, I couldn’t see it, but she found someone who could. She eventually ran off with an artist. Last I knew they were both eking out a
living in SoHo, painting desert sunrises.”

  “Well, to each his own,” I said. There was no accounting for taste. “Tell you what—we have a singles group at church. Why don’t you join us sometime? I think you’d enjoy the class.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t have much free time. I’m moonlighting at the post office while I do my real work on my time off.”

  His real work? What would that be? I must have looked confused, because he explained.

  “I’m writing a novel.”

  “Oh. Well…that must be fun. What’s it about?”

  “Gophers.”

  I blinked, sure I’d missed a turn somewhere. “Gophers?”

  He nodded, his eyes alive with excitement. “See, it’s an imaginary kingdom. There’s a king gopher and a queen gopher, and they have all kinds of problems.”

  The first of which would be that they were gophers. “I see. It sounds…interesting.”

  “It’s real cutting edge. Nothing else like it out there.”

  Yep, you could put money on that. “When will it be finished?”

  “I’m working on the final chapters now. Then I’ll get an agent and sell it. I don’t anticipate any trouble finding a publisher. Mark my words, it’ll be the next Great American Novel.”

  And I’d dance Swan Lake at the first Barnes & Noble autographing.

  “You want to read it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. It sounds great, but I have so little time.”

  “That’s okay. I understand, but if you ever get a few free minutes, just give me a call and I’ll run it over.”

  “I’ll do that, Lee. But now I have to get busy. I’ll see you around.”

  I took the mail and hightailed it out of there before he offered to drive home and fetch the manuscript. I was lonely, not desperate.

  Chapter 14

  “Guess who!” Mazi was framed in my doorway, arms loaded with packages.

  “Mazi, you have got to stop this.” Shaking my head, I opened the door wider to allow access to her and the bulging shopping bags. “You are shamelessly spoiling my children.”

  “So?” She shrugged. “Isn’t that what children are for?”