“Mandy,” Dad cocked his head at the open front door, “let’s do this outside.”
That was his polite way of telling Mom, without a single look in her direction, that she wasn’t coming into our house. I followed my sister and father outside, closing the front door behind me. Mom’s bags were still in the grass where she’d left them, and she was standing square in the middle of the porch, where I’d left her.
“Have a seat,” Dad offered, nodding back to the porch swing. Mom didn’t waste a moment to take him up on the offer, and she sat down, crossing her long legs at the ankle.
She was as beautiful as I remembered, I noticed, staring from her tall black heels all the way up to her wavy brown hair. Probably even prettier than I remembered.
I looked to my sister. Bailey’s eyes watered as she stood next to me, but they weren’t the same kind of tears that I’d fought to hold back when Mom first pulled up. Mine were tears of frustration, anger, tears of not knowing how to handle my overwhelming surge of emotions. Bailey was fighting something else, something foreign to me. She wanted to smile. She wanted to open her arms, reach out, and hug our mother. And I didn’t understand it. Not two days ago she was furious with Mom. She didn’t want to talk to her, didn’t want to answer her calls. And now Bailey seemed to be feeling something else entirely.
That’s what I hated about our mother—that’s what she did to people. She was capable of bringing out the best and worst of someone, all in a span of hours. She’d done it to Dad for years, giving him just enough of her time and attention to keep him holding on and letting him down hard in the blink of an eye when something better came along. She was manipulative … she was just that good at being who she was.
“Hi,” Bailey said, staring at our mother. “Hi, Mom.”
I hated that. I hated that, even after everything Mom had put Bailey through in the past few years, months, and even in recent days, my sister still felt that undeniable mother-daughter bond.
“Okay, seriously, can we get this over with?” I asked. “Why are you here?”
“Actually, Mandy,” Dad said, standing next to me. I could hear the assurance in his voice, and I saw the glint of calm in his eye as he looked down to me. “We’re not going to do that here. Not right now.” He turned to Mom, but not with questions. “You should’ve called.”
“I tried.”
“I don’t mean Bailey,” he said. “You had no right to bully her into thinking that she had to speak to you. You harassed her. If you had business to conduct in Sugar Creek, you should’ve called me.”
“Jim, I was hoping we could—”
“Vic,” he silenced her at once. “You are not welcome here. You will not come back to our home. Anything you have to say to either of our daughters, you will only do on their terms. You will not come by, and you will not ambush them. You can leave your number, and if they wish to speak to you, then that’s entirely up to them. Showing up at our door does not grant you permission to start calling the shots. This is our home.”
“Okay, but I’m trying—”
“Have you arranged your lodging yet?”
“I haven’t,” she said. “I was hoping that maybe—”
“You’re not welcome here,” I repeated what Dad said. “And you are out of your mind if you thought we would let you stay.”
“Mom,” Bailey said gently.
She studied our mother differently than we did. Dad and I were both very aware, very skeptical. We kept our eyes fixed on her. Bailey, like us, kept watching her, but it was more relaxed. It was as if she didn’t care about anything we’d gone through. Like she hadn’t meant any of those things she’d said last night about Mom belonging in the past. It wasn’t until that very moment, standing there on the porch, that I realized that Bailey had never hated our mother at all; she’d only missed her. And if I wasn’t mistaken, my sister was actually happy to see her sitting only a few feet away.
“I’ll call in a reservation at the Desden Hyatt,” Bailey said, and Mom nodded.
“Thank you.”
My sister turned back to the door and disappeared inside to arrange Mom’s hotel accommodations.
“So are you going to give me a chance to say anything?” Mom asked once Bailey was gone. “Or should I chalk this up to a wasted attempt?”
That got to Dad. His hands balled into fists, and he ground his teeth together as he watched her.
He couldn’t bear hearing of Mom’s pity-party as a result of wasted attempts. He’d wasted days, weeks, and months of their marriage trying to save something that wasn’t worth saving. And instead of being honest with him, instead of telling him it wasn’t fixable, Mom decided to break his heart.
“You’ve given yourself an unfair advantage by showing up here,” I said, and for the first time since she showed up, I was speaking to her in a very direct, relatively calm manner. For the first time since she showed up, I wasn’t thinking about the hurt she’d caused me. I was remembering the anguish in my father’s voice when he told me the truth, the tears in his eyes when he admitted that he couldn’t fix our family. Suddenly, all I cared about in that moment was getting her away from him. He’d done nothing to deserve this.
“You weren’t expected, and you have to accept that we are very taken aback by your sudden arrival,” I said. Dad nodded, and I continued. “We’ve all agreed to hear you out, to listen to whatever it is that you have to say.”
“Thank you, Amanda.”
“She prefers Mandy,” Dad said, regaining the confidence in his voice, and then he cornered a look at me, one that was full of remorse. Without saying a word, he was apologizing for all the times he hadn’t respected that fact. “Mandy.”
I managed a small smile, letting him know that I would never hold it against him. I knew better than anyone that anger could make people say and do a lot of things they didn’t mean.
And then I turned back to my mother.
“We need time,” I said, and she perked up. “I think it’s only fair that you give us time to absorb this. If we can all agree, when Bailey comes back with your reservation information, I think you should leave. Go to your hotel. Once we’ve had a fair opportunity to think this over, we’ll call you.”
“Maybe sit down for dinner,” Dad said, and I nodded. “We’ll stay in touch.”
“How long are you in town?” I asked, looking to her bags. “A while, I assume?”
“As long as I have to be,” she said quietly.
“Then yeah,” I said, “if you’re not in a terrible hurry to leave, and we have time, I think it’s fair that you give us what we’re asking for.”
“How long do you need?”
“We’ll let you know when we know,” Dad said, and then he asked me to go inside and call Mom another cab.
Mom actually seemed okay with that because we were at least considering the idea of giving her a chance. Like Gabe promised, that’s all she was after … for now. And for now, that’s all she was getting.
A chance.
Chapter Ten
“Hey, any chance Gabe’s still here?” I asked, poking my head into the back door of the Nazarene church. The soup kitchen was over by the time I pulled up, and the RI team was amidst clean up when I let myself in. “I didn’t see his car in the parking lot.”
“No, sorry, sweetheart,” Lashell said, turning to me with a sympathetic stare. Great. I could already tell by the look on her face that Gabe had come straight to the church and told her about Mom’s arrival. “He headed out to Evergreen for lunch.”
I nodded, and she turned away from the sink, where she was washing the dishes. She attempted to dry her hands on a damp towel before setting it aside and giving me her full attention.
“You need to talk?”
“No.”
And I was pretty sure that was true. Yes, I was rattled by the fact that Mom had flown from LA and disrupted our morning, but that’s all she’d done. She’d disrupted our morning, not our lives. For once, I felt like we were
in control. We had a plan. She had to grant us time, and we were going to take this at our pace. As petty as it sounded, we had the upper hand. We had leverage, and we didn’t have to give her any slack if we didn’t want to.
And that’s all I’d come out to the church to say. I wanted to let Gabe know that we’d survived after he left. I wanted to thank him for being there, for helping.
“I’m sure he’s not made it to Desden yet, if you want to give him a call,” she said. “He’ll answer as long as he’s not with Lenora.”
“It’s okay,” I nodded. I wasn’t going to bother him, not when he was on his way to see his mother. That time meant something to him, and I didn’t want him preoccupied or distracted with thoughts of me. “But you can do me a favor.”
“Anything.”
“If you see him again today, or if you guys talk, can you tell him that I’m alive and well?”
“Sure.”
“And smiling?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll leave him a message,” I said. “But he might be happy hearing it from you, too. I don’t want him worrying.”
I watched her for a minute, studying the sincere smile she wore as she looked at me. There was love there, compassion. I always knew that Lashell respected me as a member of her team, that she enjoyed working with me. But for the first time since I’d met her, I saw something there that I hadn’t seen before. Lashell genuinely cared about me.
“You make him happy,” she said, drawing a bigger smile from me. “Do you know how long it’s been since that boy has been sincerely happy?”
“Not as long as you think, I’m sure,” I said, remembering the way Gabe smiled this morning when he talked about Lashell and William. They’d given him so much, changed his life. She may not have always seen it that way, but he’d admitted it. “Do you know how much he loves you?”
“Do you know how much he loves you?” she asked, and I dropped my head to hide a grin. “I heard your date went well.”
“It was great,” I said, almost embarrassed that he’d even told her. “Almost perfect.”
“Until the end?”
“Yeah,” I said, laughing. “But you know what? It’s okay. I thought there’d be a kiss—”
“Whoa,” she said, lifting her hands up. She looked remarkably like my father in one of those “there are some things I don’t need to know” moments. “Okay, honey, I meant with your mother showing up.”
“Oh.” Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She tilted her head, trying not to laugh.
“He didn’t kiss you?”
“You know what? Forget I said anything, it was totally inappropriate—”
“You poor girl,” she said, and that was followed by a tsk, tsk. “And poor Gabe. You know, he may not seem it, but he can be a little clueless sometimes.”
“I got that,” I smirked.
“Be patient with him,” she said. “He’s not—”
“I know,” I said. “Believe me, I know. Gabe’s not like other guys.”
She shook her head. I’d taken the words right out of her mouth. It was something the world was in agreement upon. Gabe was definitely one of a kind.
“I have to get back to these dishes,” she said, nodding to the sink. “You’re welcome to pick up a sponge.”
“And get caught working for the team?” I asked, shaking my head. “No way. You’re on your own there, lady.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she winked at me. “Take care, Mandy.”
“I’ll see ya around.”
###
“Hey, Mandy,” Fletcher said. “What brings you here?”
“Oh, hey, Fletch,” I said, stopping at the back end of his pickup truck.
He was seated in the back, his legs swinging off the ledge of the tailgate as he chowed down on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
“Hungry?” He lifted a second, untouched PB&J from a paper bag.
“No, thanks.” I took it upon myself to jump up and sit next to him. “Good stint?”
“It was busy,” he said, sweeping his eyes across the mostly empty parking lot. “Saturdays are always busier than Thursdays.”
“No more Saturdays, though,” I said, and we both nodded. There was only one more soup kitchen evening, and that was on Thursday. By the time the next and final soup kitchen night came around, the project would be one day from the end. “So that’s something.”
“No more Saturdays during the program,” he corrected me. “Carla’s got this thing blowing full-steam ahead. They’re not stopping after the program’s over.”
“Right,” I said, because I already knew that. “You going to keep coming around to help?”
“As much as I can,” he said, finishing off his first sandwich. “I enjoy it.”
I was happy to hear that. Although I hadn’t given it much thought, I knew I would probably pop in from time to time to offer my help at the church post-program. I didn’t have the best history with Carla, but I didn’t see that being any reason to deter me from giving back to my community.
“Were you here the whole time?” he asked. He started to peel the plastic wrap from the other sandwich. “I didn’t see you taking interviews.”
“No,” I said. “I’ve concluded all my interviews. I was swinging by to see Gabe.”
“Yeah, Gabe,” he said, bouncing his eyebrows. “Heard about the date.”
“He told you, too?”
“It was hard to miss the grin,” he said, playfully bumping my shoulder with his. “He didn’t say much. Just that you had your first, official date.”
Admittedly, I was very surprised. I couldn’t believe Gabe was sharing so much. Lashell, I understood. But Fletcher? Someone he oversaw as part of the program? That didn’t seem like something Gabe would do.
“Don’t hold it against him,” Fletcher said. “He was happy. Kinda bursting at the seams.”
Yeah, if I wasn’t already convinced, that pretty much did it: Gabe was like no other man I’d ever met.
“Oh, hey, while I’ve got you,” he said, and then he swallowed a bite. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of Bailey since I saw you on Thursday night.”
“Okay?”
“I wanted to see if I could stop by sometime to hear the band practice,” he said. “You said they’ve been at your place. I’d like to know what I’m in for on Friday night.”
“Yeah, that’d be fine,” I said. “She’s not returning your calls?”
“To be fair, I’ve only tried twice, and I’ve sent some texts. But I haven’t heard from her, not once, actually, about the dance finale.” He glared at me from the corner of his eye, and I felt him gearing up to preach. “I thought you said she was going to be heavily involved.”
“She was supposed to be,” I said, but then I laughed. “I thought you said on Thursday night that you weren’t worried about it, that I’d pretty much covered everything, anyway.”
“Yeah, but Friday will be here before we know it, and I need to make sure she’s still on board with the dance committee to turn that gym into something passable for the dance.”
“Okay. But passable isn’t good enough, and I promise it’ll get done.”
“And I won’t have to do it alone?”
“No.”
“Good. Because I think I remember something about me not having to lift a finger.”
I smirked. “I said that, didn’t I?”
“Or something to that effect.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry she’s not been in touch. I’ll make sure she calls you. She’s been a little preoccupied these past few days.”
Preoccupied. That worked. What else was I supposed to tell him? A ghost from our past had suddenly decided to make her presence known, and then showed up on our front doorstep without warning?
“Don’t worry about Bailey,” I said. “I’ll make sure to take care of that. In the meantime, what are you up to for the rest of the day?”
###
I ended up back at home sometime
late that evening.
Fletcher didn’t have anything left to do that afternoon, so instead of parting ways, we turned a quick talk into a long day together. We strolled down the streets of Sugar Creek and over to the library, and I opened my e-mail on one of their computers to let him read a couple of the pieces I’d been working on for the Herald.
He loved getting a little look at the program and the articles we were working on before the rest of the world had the chance to read them. And since that impressed him so much, I even ran my latest short story by him. He offered up his insights and suggestions, and then we turned the focus of our conversation onto all the things he was working on in this final week of the RI program.
With only a few days to go until the end, he didn’t have much left to do but focus on that dance finale I’d passed over to him. And if I held true to my end, that meant I had to get Bailey to step up her game. All this fuss with Mom had clouded her priorities, and it was time that someone snapped her back to reality. She had responsibilities, and she’d made a promise to both Fletcher and me to execute this thing.
I headed for her bedroom the moment I got home.
“Knock, knock,” I said, jiggling the doorknob. It was locked. “Hello? Bailey, can I come in?”
Faint voices came from inside her room, and for a moment it sounded like it might be a video or even someone on the phone. But then I swore I heard some shuffling of feet, too, and I knocked again.
“Bailey?”
“Yeah, give me a sec,” she said. There was more shifting around from the other side, and then a click. “Hey sis, what’s up?” She only cracked the door a few inches, peeking her nose out at me. “Mandy, need something?”
She asked far too quickly. The words just flew out of her mouth. And the smile on her face was a telltale sign that there was something she wasn’t saying. She was unusually chipper right then, given the circumstances of everything we’d been through in the last twelve hours. She was bouncing from one high to the next, her emotions never truly readable from minute to minute. It was like watching her go from obliterating her cell phone to watching her reaction as she watched Extra Bacon rehearse in the garage the other night.
Breaking Ties Page 9
