Yesterday's Embers

by Deborah Raney

  He exhaled and bowed his head briefly, trying to look appropriately contrite. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have done that. But come on…give the kid a break. She hasn’t exactly had it easy these last few months. She…she’s still grieving.”

  His own words took him by surprise. He hadn’t thought of it that way exactly, but it was true. “You’re taking everything so personally, Mickey, but I don’t think this has anything to do with you. The kids are still grieving. We’re grieving. All of us. It…it hasn’t been that long.”

  “You make it sound like you’re all in this together. Where does that leave me, Doug?”

  “There you go again, making it all about you.”

  “No. That’s not what I mean. It’s just…I can’t compete with that, Doug.”

  “Nobody’s asking you to compete. This isn’t a competition.”

  “Well, it sure feels like one.” She wheeled and strode down the hall.

  He started after her, then shook his head. Let her fume a little. She was being ridiculous.

  But it was Doug who fumed all night. He went out to the garage, feeling as if he’d been banished from his own home. At least he got some shelves cleaned off that he’d been meaning to sort through. When he got up the courage to go into the house around ten, Mickey had turned out all the lights and locked the front door.

  She was in bed, asleep, curled up so close to her edge of the mattress that he was afraid she’d fall out. Well, let her. Maybe that’d knock some sense into her.

  He got ready for bed and assumed a similar position on his side of the mattress.

  The next thing he knew, a sliver of morning light was coming in through the curtains. He hadn’t heard Mickey’s alarm clock, but the shower was running and her side of the bed was empty.

  He eased out of bed and went down the hall to make coffee. When he came back to the bedroom, Mickey was making the bed, dressed in a fluffy robe, her hair wrapped in a towel.

  He tested the waters. “Good morning.”

  “Morning.” Not meeting his eyes, she yanked at the bedspread and punched a pillow into place on the headboard.

  Okay. Still a bit chilly. Fine. He liked quiet in the morning anyway.

  He showered and dressed quickly and went to the kitchen. The fresh scent of laundry soap and dryer sheets permeated the air, and he found Mickey in the laundry room folding clothes. She didn’t look up when he walked through the room and went out to retrieve the morning newspaper.

  He pulled the paper from its niche below the mailbox and tucked it under his arm. When he straightened, a flash of white caught his eye.

  He looked up to see Mickey’s cat sitting at the edge of the driveway. Smiling to himself, he squatted on his haunches and held out a hand, calling the cat quietly. He couldn’t have bought a better peace offering at any price.

  The cat took two steps toward him and retreated one step back, until finally it was close enough to sniff his fingers. He laid the newspaper down and nabbed the cat. It let out a yowl when he scooped it up, but quickly settled into his arms. Leaving the paper on the ground, he carried the cat through the garage and into the laundry room.

  Mickey was bent over the dryer, scooping out a load of white T-shirts and underwear.

  He cleared his throat loudly. “Look what I found.”

  Arms loaded with the clean laundry, she straightened. She took one look and a smile filled her eyes. “Sasha!” She dropped the laundry in front of the dryer and stormed Doug, nearly crushing the cat between them. “Where was she?” She looked into his eyes for the first time since last night.

  “Just waiting out on the driveway. See, I told you she’d come back.”

  Mickey didn’t respond but nuzzled the cat and whispered sweet nothings to it, while it purred like there was no tomorrow.

  Doug stood with his arms folded over his chest, watching the happy reunion. She looked up from stroking the cat, and without a word, her eyes told him his peace offering had done the trick.

  “You know, a lesser man couldn’t help but be a tad jealous right now.”

  To his surprise, her eyes welled with tears. “Thank you, Doug.”

  He wanted to close the distance between them, take her in his arms, take her back to bed. But there was that blasted cat between them. And Mickey didn’t seem inclined to remove it. And besides, he heard the kids stirring upstairs.

  She vacillated between wanting to weep and wanting to give him a piece of her mind.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Mickey flung the smelly tennis shoe off the sofa, just missing a nearly full glass of milk somebody had left there to sour. She didn’t want to cause any more trouble with Doug, but if something didn’t give around here, she was going to blow a gasket big-time.

  She kicked the other shoe out of the way, searching again for today’s newspaper.

  When the second shoe clunked against the wall, Doug hollered in from the kitchen. “Landon? What’s going on in there?”

  “It’s me, Doug. Landon’s outside. Playing.” She hoped to hammer home a point.

  Doug appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m trying to find this morning’s paper, but I don’t know how anyone can find a blessed thing in this place. Look at this, Doug. Just look…” She stretched out her arms to encompass a living room cluttered with toys and dirty clothes and dishes with crusted-on food. Who knew what else lay underneath the first grimy layer.

  “Well, call the kids in. Make them clean up their stuff. You shouldn’t have to do it.”

  “I told them to clean up before dinner.”

  “And did they?”

  “Excuse me?” Incredulous, she stepped to one side in case he’d missed the view before. “Are you looking at the same room I’m looking at?”

  He shrugged. “Let’s see, I’m going to guess…no, they didn’t.”

  She wasn’t in the mood for his sarcasm. “I cannot stand this mess another minute, Douglas! I can’t even imagine what it’s going to be like next week when they’re all out of school!”

  “Mickey, six kids live in this house. It’s not going to stay clean.”

  Doug didn’t seem to notice that he’d misspoken. Or maybe he was referring to himself as the sixth child. She immediately felt cruel for having such a thought. She’d heard him slip up before. The idea of being dad to six kids was so ingrained in him.

  Although there wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t confront Kaye’s memory in this house, it had been a long time since anyone had spoken Rachel’s name. But Mickey understood why. It brought a lump to her throat just to think of the sweet little girl.

  Doug went on, obviously unaware of what he’d said. “Mickey, this is what life with kids is like. Surely you knew that when you married me. You’ve worked with kids long enough to know—”

  “But I never realized how much it would take out of me to have them all day long at daycare and then come home and have them all night, too.” She glared at him.

  “Well, welcome to my world.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “It’s not like I’m out playing golf or down at the bar having a beer with the guys when I get off work, you know.”

  She’d never heard such venom in his voice. She vacillated between wanting to weep and wanting to give him a piece of her mind. The latter seemed the easier choice. “Maybe not, but when you do finally get home, at least you have a nice meal ready for you and a few minutes to sit in front of the TV.” She matched his caustic tone. “I don’t even get that. I’m on duty from the minute I wake up until the minute you go to bed.”

  “And who got up with Harley last night?”

  “What do you mean? I—I didn’t know she woke up.”

  “That’s right, because when you go to sleep, you can turn it all off. I can’t even sleep without one ear to the door in case something goes wrong with the house, or one of the kids gets sick.”

  Admittedly, she hadn’t hear
d Harley wake up last night. And yes, she did put all her responsibilities out of her mind once she crawled under the covers. “If I didn’t, I’d be a mental and physical wreck. As it is, I’m doing good to get six hours of sleep a night. Between the house and the laundry and groceries and making sure the kids have lunches packed, it’s almost always after midnight before I finally get to bed.”

  “You bring that on yourself, Mick. Nobody is asking you to keep this house looking like a showroom.”

  “Believe me, this is a far cry from a showroom. I don’t see how you can function like this!” She kicked at a book bag one of the girls had dropped in front of the sofa after school. “How anybody ever finds anything in this pigsty is beyond me. And you know…” She was gathering steam now. Might as well get it all out in the open while they were at it. He couldn’t get much angrier than he already was. “Would it kill you to ask the kids to help me out once in a while?”

  “You ask them.” He threw up a hand as if he were tossing all reason to the wind. “If you want help, Mickey, ask for it. There’s no reason those kids can’t help you out.”

  “I don’t think I should always have to be the bad guy.”

  “Well, I’m sorry, but I’m not here to see what it is you need them to do. You’re going to have to be a big girl for a change and handle it yourself.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Mickey—” He waited a beat too long, and the look on his face said he’d been holding back a blow that he was about to deliver with pleasure.

  He pawed at the floor like a tormented bull. “You’re acting like a child! You’re acting like a spoiled princess with three doting brothers, who’s always gotten everything her way and who’s never had to make a sacrifice for somebody else.”

  “And you’re acting like a tyrant who’s never had anybody dare to challenge his authority before.” Hackles flaring, she furrowed her brow and lowered her voice in a fair imitation of him. “Get that done right away. No questions asked. When I say ‘jump,’ the proper response is ‘how high?’”

  It was clear she’d pushed too far with that one. Doug’s jaw tensed and his face went red. “Are you talking about you or the kids?”

  That threw her. “What do you mean?”

  He jabbed at the air with a finger. “Is that how you think I treat you? Is it?”

  “No.” She took a step backward, wishing she could take back her words as easily. Doug wasn’t that way with her. And he was never harsher with the kids than he needed to be. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “No. You said it. It didn’t just come out of nowhere. You must have meant something by it.”

  She looked at the floor, on the verge of tears. “This…this isn’t like I thought it would be.” Her voice wavered and she shook her head, not wanting to cry but powerless to stop the tears. “Nothing is like I thought it would be…for you and me. We never see each other, Doug. Kayeleigh hates the very sight of me.”

  “She doesn’t hate you, Mick. She’s twelve. Give her a break. Weren’t you ever twelve?”

  She waved him away. “Just forget it. You don’t understand what I’m saying.”

  “I’m trying.” But the hard edge to his voice wasn’t convincing.

  She was broken. She only wanted him to take her in his arms now, tell her that things would get better. That they’d work it out, that they’d find the sweetness they’d had with each other before.

  But he didn’t do that. Instead, he stood there, tapping his foot, as if he couldn’t wait for her rant to be over so he could get to something more important.

  She sighed. “Can we just forget all this? I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “But you did.” Now it was his turn to look at the floor. “Mickey, I’m sorry if things aren’t like you thought they’d be. I don’t know what to do about that. I can’t exactly send the kids away.”

  “I’m not asking you to do that, Doug. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Well, what you’re asking isn’t realistic.”

  “The kids take care of their stuff at daycare. I don’t see why they can’t do the same here.” An idea started taking shape in her mind. “What if…would you be willing to let me do some organizing around here? Maybe if the kids had a place to put things, they’d be more responsible.”

  “What exactly do you have in mind?”

  “For one thing, I could bring some of the bookshelves from my house. We need to get stuff out of there anyway if we’re going to rent the place out. And maybe the kids could start using the back door, so we could at least keep the living room clean. Aren’t you embarrassed to have people see the place like this?”

  He shrugged, but she could see that he’d lost a little steam and he was opening up to her idea. “When would we do this great transformation?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe over the weekend? We could make the first day of summer a fresh start that way.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t you remember, I’ve got that EMT training thing in Salina. I’ve got to leave here by seven Friday morning, and I won’t be back until late Saturday night.”

  “What if I do it while you’re gone?” She looked around the room, and the adrenaline started flowing as fast as the ideas. “What if I take a couple days off? I’ve got days coming, and I need to take them before school’s out anyway.”

  “What about the kids? And how are you going to move bookcases by yourself?”

  She glanced at the clock. “I know it’s late, but…would you consider helping me move the heavy stuff tonight?”

  He opened his mouth and she waited for his protest, but then he blew out a breath and shrugged. “Okay. Let’s do it. Can we do it in a couple of trips?”

  “Easily.”

  “But what about the kids?”

  She didn’t want to push her luck, but she dared to anyway. “Do you think Wren and Bart would consider having them for the weekend…again?” The Johannsens had kept the kids for three nights while they were on their honeymoon, but they’d seemed to genuinely enjoy it. “We won’t make a habit of it, I promise. It’d just be after school tomorrow and Friday and all day Saturday…”

  “It’s awfully short notice.” Doug looked skeptical, but he nodded. “I guess we can ask.”

  “Thank you.” She couldn’t believe how their fight had suddenly evolved into a project—one that felt like it might solve a lot of their problems.

  “I’ll go tell the kids,” Doug said, actually sounding enthused. “Meet you out in the truck in five.”

  As she moved her treasures from her house to Doug’s, she started to feel something shift in her heart.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Mickey crawled out of bed and walked down the hall in her nightgown. Seven o’clock on Saturday morning and the house was blissfully quiet with the kids still at Wren and Bart’s. The sun gleamed through windows that sparkled with her efforts.

  As she wandered through the downstairs rooms, every muscle screamed for relief, yet she felt like turning cartwheels. She had never worked so hard in her life as she had these past two days. She’d gotten up with the sun and worked steadily until after midnight two nights in a row. Without the kids to demand her attention, she’d been able to accomplish far more than she’d dreamed.

  She still had a day’s worth of finishing touches she wanted to put on her project, but almost overnight the house had been completely transformed. She could hardly wait for Doug and the kids to see how it had turned out. As much as she’d enjoyed the solitude of these last two days, she was beginning to miss them. A fact that caused her to breathe a sigh of relief. It had worried her a little that she felt so…unencumbered without them.

  Not only had she organized the entire downstairs so that everything had a place, but she’d also discovered cans of leftover paint in the garage and had touched up the walls where the kids had banged into them and repaired nail holes where she’d taken pictures off the walls and replaced them with paintings she’
d brought from her house.

  She’d taken down the dusty draperies and curtains throughout the house, too. Some she’d washed and rehung, others she’d tossed and replaced with curtains from her house. The entire downstairs looked fresh and clean and organized.

  With her careful placement of shelves and baskets, she thought the kids could keep the place tidy with just a little effort. No more than they were used to when they were at daycare.

  She’d made half a dozen trips back and forth to her house, collecting books and decorative items she’d missed. As she moved her treasures from her house to Doug’s, she started to feel something shift in her heart.

  For the first time since moving in with Doug and the kids, she didn’t feel as if she were living in another woman’s house. The farmhouse had her touch on it now, and with that she finally felt like she belonged here.

  The house had good bones. They’d just been hidden behind poor furniture arrangement—and a lot of clutter. Moving the furniture had given her a chance to do some deep cleaning, and the weather had allowed her to open up the house and circulate some fresh air. She inhaled and smelled only the clean scent of fresh paint and lemon polish and Windex.

  Humming, she went through to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. The empty countertops gleamed, and when she opened the cupboard doors, organized shelves greeted her. She’d packed away much of Doug’s kitchen equipment—Kaye’s, actually—and replaced it with the dishes and decorative items she hadn’t had room for until now.

  Before they could rent her place out, they’d have to deal with the two dozen boxes of stuff from the farmhouse that she’d stored in her garage, but at least they were out of here now. Maybe they could have a garage sale in town later this summer. That would be something the kids could all help with.

  She planned to tackle their bedrooms and the bathroom upstairs next, but she didn’t dare do that without them there to help.