Breaking Ties

by Tracie Puckett

  I let that sink in. She’d heard him say it a million times before, I’m sure. She’d heard his apologies, his requests for the smallest acknowledgment, but maybe she’d never heard from a complete stranger’s lips to her ears how much her son loved and cared for her.

  I scooted all the way to the edge of my seat. “Do you have any idea what your son’s accomplished? Do you know what Gabe does every day when he’s out there in the world?”

  “I have a vague idea,” she looked off to the side, trying to hide the tears in her eyes.

  “Leave this place, and come out and see it for yourself,” I said. “You created this beautiful person, this amazing human being, and he wants nothing more than to share the wonderful things in life with everyone he encounters. When he has something to give, he gives it all to the people he loves. You’re one of those people; don’t you know that? You should want to be one of those people. He’s never going to stop trying, so why keep stringing him along? Something. That’s all he wants from you ... not everything.”

  I waited a few minutes for her to respond, to give me more than her silence. I kept waiting, and after a few, long minutes, I stood up from the couch.

  “My phone number is on the back of the ticket,” I said. “If you need a ride, or if you need anything at all, please call. I’m happy to help however I can.” I started for the door but turned back to find her running her fingers over the invitation once again. “And thank you.”

  She angled her head to look up at me. “For what?”

  “Giving me a chance,” I said. “That’s all I was hoping for, and … what do you know? It looks like things went okay here today, huh?” She smiled, clearly getting my message. “I hope to hear from you, Miss Bennett.”

  With a nod from her, I turned out of her room and into the hallway, slowly closing the door behind me.

  Whatever happened next between her and Gabe was totally up to her, and all I could do was pray that Lenora wanted her son as much as he wanted her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I met Georgia at the other end of the hall, taking an opportunity to introduce myself to her grandmother. Since neither of us was in a huge hurry to get back to town, we stayed at Evergreen and shared dinner in the cafeteria with Ruby. I kept my eyes peeled for any sight of Lenora while we wandered around Evergreen, but it appeared as if she never left her room. I didn’t see her again before we left.

  I headed back across town and stopped at the bakery instead of going straight home. When I saw the dim lights still burning on the other side of the front windows, I knew Jones was still hard at work, closing up shop for the night.

  “Hey,” I poked my head inside the door. “Need any help in here?”

  Jones looked up from the mop in his hands, his eyes rounding as he stared at me.

  “You’re offering to come in and help on a night off?”

  “Sure,” I stepped in, letting the door close behind me. I maneuvered around the wet spots on the floor and over to the counter, depositing my purse on the corner of the empty display case. Taking a rag from a nearby bucket, I began to wipe down the counters he’d already cleaned.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, watching me wipe the rag in circular motions across the surface of our workstation. “What in God’s name has you eager to clean countertops on your night off?”

  “Beats going home,” I said quietly, still focusing on the task at hand. “I still don’t know what to say to Dad. We haven’t talked since Mom showed up.”

  “Oh.”

  “And then I feel like if I do say something, then he’s going to suddenly feel like we have to talk about it, and that might turn into him wanting to schedule that dinner we promised her.” I sighed. “I want to avoid all of the above.”

  “I get that.”

  “And what the heck is going on with your girlfriend?” I looked up to him. “I mean, if I thought Bailey was acting strange before, then I don’t know what to make of what’s going on now. She’s being dodgy.” His laugh almost sounded like a scoff, like I wasn’t telling him anything he hadn’t already figured out for himself. “She flaked out on a promise she made to one of my friends today, and I’m not happy about it. In fact, she’s been avoiding him for almost a week, and it’s getting ridiculous.”

  “Have you—”

  “Don’t ask me if I’ve tried talking to her, Jones,” I said, shaking my head. “Of course I’ve tried—at home, in the car, through texts, and I’ve even left a hundred voicemails.”

  “Right.” He nodded, still not the least bit surprised.

  “And do you know she’s skipping school now? She completely blew off the last half of the day today. She took the car and disappeared without a trace. She’s lucky I didn’t call Dad.”

  And the only reason I didn’t was because I was, once again, hoping to avoid having any awkward conversations that could potentially lead right back to Mom.

  Jones only nodded as he worked, and I suspected he’d been getting the same kind of mysterious brush off from her that the rest of us had gotten lately.

  “I don’t get it, Jones,” I said, sinking my shoulders. “What’s going on?”

  “It all comes down to Mommy Dearest,” he said with a heavy degree of certainty in his voice. “I’m sorry.” He stopped mopping again and rested his chin on the handle. His expression was solemn, like there was something else he wanted to say, but he didn’t have the right words to say it. Finally, he sighed and shook his head. “Why don’t we hang out after I close up here?”

  That was Jones’s way of trying to comfort me, because if he couldn’t find the right words, at least he could give me his time.

  “You don’t have plans with Bailey?” I asked. It seemed weird that he wouldn’t. He almost always had plans with my sister whenever he wasn’t working, going to school, or rehearsing with the band.

  “No.” His answer was intended to be quick and painless, but I caught a vague hint of sadness in his expression when he said that one little word. “You said it best, Mandy. She’s being dodgy.”

  “With you too?”

  There was a pinch in my heart, an overwhelming sadness for Jones. It was one thing for Bailey to skip out on Fletcher, to distance herself from Dad, or ignore a few dozen calls from me. But usually, almost always, actually, she’d turn to Jones when she needed a confidant. If she wasn’t even doing that, then maybe I hadn’t been concerned enough. It was the most uncharacteristic thing of all, flaking out on him of all people.

  “Yeah,” he said, and something told me he wanted to leave it at that for a while. “You up to hang out?”

  “Please.”

  He nodded to the other side of the display case, bringing my attention to a large, white box of desserts waiting on the counter.

  “Late-night delivery?”

  “No,” he said. “Samples for the dance finale. I was supposed to drop those off with Bailey tonight, but she’s not returning my calls.”

  “And that’s them?” I headed straight for the box.

  “Yup.”

  The desserts were the last piece of the puzzle. Julia had promised to whip up some samples, giving the RI team some options to choose from before she provided the entire spread for the dance on Friday night. It was up to Bailey and Fletcher to decide which desserts would make the cut, but Fletch didn’t need the added responsibility, and Bailey wasn’t taking her responsibilities seriously. So I looked at the box and back to Jones, both of us conjuring up the same twisted idea.

  “You think she’ll be mad?”

  “You think I care?” I asked, whisking the box off the counter. “Hurry up and finish that floor. We have a taste test to conduct.”

  We sat outside the bakery fifteen minutes later, both of us leaning against the brick wall. I’d texted Fletcher and got the go-ahead to tear into the food, just as long as I promised him feedback. Jones had the box of desserts sprawled across his lap, and we were both tearing into the sweets, like we hadn’t eaten in weeks.

 
; Just sitting there, comparing and sharing, making notes of Julia’s best creations … it was peaceful. It was the quiet moment I needed after such a long, exhausting, confusing day.

  Suddenly my mind wasn’t focused on Dad, or Bailey, or even Gabe for that matter. I wasn’t thinking about Lenora, or Evergreen, or the fact that she’d so adamantly refused to meet me at Gabe’s request, only to turn around and speak so politely to me today. And Mom? Not a thought of her crossed my mind. I was there, in that moment, enjoying every laugh Jones and I shared.

  “Oh, this is the best one yet,” I said, savoring the last sweet taste of chocolate on my tongue. “Seriously, Jones.” I lifted up the smaller half of the double-chocolate chip cupcake that I hadn’t already inhaled. “You have to try this.”

  “Double-fisting it over here, Mandy,” he said, one red velvet cake in his right hand and a chocolate lollipop in the other. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “But you have to try it,” I said, reaching over to him. “Open.”

  He opened his mouth and I slid the cupcake inside, keeping my fingers as far away from his icing-covered lips as I could.

  “Oh, God,” he said, and I swear his eyes slipped back inside of his head. As soon as he could open his eyes again and form words, he looked at me and laughed. “Holy-freaking-wow. That’s insanely delicious.”

  “Right?” I stared back into the box. There was nothing left but crumbs.

  “That’s going on the list, for sure,” he said. “The crowd’s gonna love those.”

  “Good music, good treats,” I said. “ I don’t think we can go wrong. This finale’s gonna be a hit.”

  And as we started to close the empty box, a faint figure made its way up the sidewalk and through the darkness, catching both Jones’s attention and mine. The slender body came into clearer view, and the woman stopped as she studied us, a small grin curving her lips. We both looked at her as she loomed above us, both of us gaping at my mother.

  What part of you’re not welcome here did she not understand?

  Mom dipped down and shimmied into the small, empty space between Jones and me.

  “I love the weather in Sugar Creek,” she said, the nonchalance of her tone cutting through me and boiling my blood. “It’s no wonder your sister loves it here. The nighttime walks, the quiet hum of small town life. It’s peaceful.”

  “Can we help you with something?” Jones asked, and she looked to him. “Last I heard, you weren’t supposed to come sneaking back to town until your family agreed to meet you as a collective whole.”

  I wasn’t the slightest bit impressed that he’d referred to us as her family, but I was going to let it slide. He said it, not her, and somehow that made it a little easier to swallow.

  Mom, however, smiled at Jones as if his misunderstanding was somehow endearing, and then she turned to me.

  “I’m not going anywhere near the house,” she promised. “It’s just that Bailey hasn’t stopped talking about how much Amanda and Jim love Sugar Creek, and I thought I’d come by and check it out, see what all the fuss is about. Beats sitting in that hotel room alone.”

  “Wait. You’ve been talking to Bailey?” Jones asked, but I figured he’d already suspected that much. It all comes down to Mommy Dearest.

  “Of course,” she said, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. “For now, the two of us have an understanding.”

  I shivered at her touch—not because it was cold and unwelcoming, but because it was scarily familiar. Her fingers were still as warm and smooth as they were back when she’d caressed my hair, read me books at bedtime, and sung me to sleep all those years ago … back when we were still children, before everything went horribly, horribly wrong.

  Mom’s touch was electrifying, triggering all of those happy memories I thought I’d buried years ago. There was a calm assurance about it, one that made me very scared and wary. Anyone with the ability to destruct an entire family had no right to be that deceivingly kind. I hated that I liked the way it felt to have her touching my skin.

  “What do you mean you have an understanding?” Jones asked, and I took the opportunity to slip my hand away from Mom’s. He and I were suddenly on the same page, given her behavior. Mom assumed that I was my sister, and he and I weren’t going to give any other impression until we got more information from her.

  “Jones,” she said, like she’d known him for years, “Bailey and I know that Mandy and Jim aren’t ready to accept that I’m here, and that’s okay. It’s shocked both of them, and it’s only fair to give them the time they’re asking for,” she said, looking at me for a moment. “Bailey and I have decided to resume our discussions in private. I don’t necessarily condone the secrecy, but she assures me it’s best to keep the nature of our discussions quiet until the other two are ready.”

  “Discussions about what?” he asked, and judging by his wide eyes and gaped lips, Jones seemed as uninformed as I was. If he was only pretending not to know what was going on, then he was doing a bang-up job of disguising it. “Have I missed something?”

  “Oh, honey. You haven’t told him?” she asked, turning to me.

  I looked to him, my lips slightly parted. Obviously there was something that Bailey knew that I didn’t, something that she and Mom were sharing with one another but keeping from the rest of us.

  “Jones?” I asked, finding my voice. “Do you know what she’s—”

  “Honest to God,” he said, standing up. He stepped over Mom’s outstretched legs and offered me a hand, helping to pull me to my feet. “Mandy, I swear to God. I don’t know anything.”

  “Mandy?” she asked, turning her head up to look at me again. “Amanda?”

  “You never could tell us apart,” I hissed at her.

  “No,” she shook her head. “No. You were feeding Jones—”

  “He’s my best friend,” I said, outraged at her assumption … maybe even accusation. “And unlike my sister, I don’t keep things from him, and he doesn’t keep things from me. So you better believe that whatever it is that you and Bailey are keeping to yourselves, if he finds out, I’ll find out.”

  “Amanda, wait,” she said, climbing to her feet.

  “Stop,” Jones snapped, and I jumped at how loudly he’d yelled that. His voice carried down the street and echoed back, rattling me again.

  It was the first time I’d ever seen him lose his cool. She’d pushed me too far, and that’d pushed him over the edge. Or maybe it wasn’t about me at all, I thought as I watched him struggle to catch a breath. Just the way he stared at her, his outrage seemed so personal. Maybe whatever it was that sparked his anger had more to do with him than me. Had she somehow gotten to him, too? Was Mom the reason Bailey had been flaking out on everybody? Was she the reason that Jones was getting left behind with the rest of us?

  “You’ve done enough here,” Jones said, finding a relative calm in his voice. “You’ve done enough to the family. You need to leave.”

  “It was an honest mistake,” she said, pulling herself up. “I only wanted to—”

  “This conversation is over.” He held up his hand, keeping her from coming any closer to us. “You were told to stay away. You’d be smart to remember that.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Hey Dad, can we talk?” I poked my head into his room later that night.

  He was sitting straight up in his bed, a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose as he pretended to read. I knew he wasn’t focused. I could see the circles around his eyes, the lines forming around his lips. He was restless, and I couldn’t blame him.

  “Sure, come in.” He set the book aside with his glasses on the nightstand, and I walked slowly through his bedroom, dragging my feet on the carpet. “Let me guess. You’re here for an apology?”

  “Huh?”

  “Because I acted like a jerk,” he said, sitting straighter. He patted the side of his bed, and I climbed up next to him, tucking my feet beneath me. “I’m sorry.”

  “Dad, I didn
’t come in here for an apology.”

  As far as I was concerned, whatever happened between us was so far under the bridge it didn’t even matter anymore. I’d been avoiding home so much lately, though, I could understand how he thought I might still be upset. If Dad only knew I wasn’t avoiding home because of what happened between us … I wasn’t ready to face the hard stuff.

  “I should’ve let you go on that date.”

  “I went on the date,” I said, trying to keep a straight face, but it was a miserably failed attempt. He matched my smile, but only for a second.

  “It was the fight with your sister,” he said, ignoring my attempt to lighten the mood. “She kept saying Mom should be here; we should be a family.”

  “So basically, she gave you a once and a lifetime opportunity to rehash old arguments?” I asked. “She kept bringing up Mom?”

  “I was blindsided,” he said. “I knew as soon she started throwing out the M word that Victoria was up to something, and it scared me. I took it out on you.”

  “Dad, I’m not concerned about that right now. I mean, apology accepted and given, but please don’t concern yourself with it anymore. I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you … too much.” We both smiled. “I’m here about something else.”

  “Ah,” he nodded as if I didn’t have to say another word. If I wasn’t there seeking an apology, obviously, I was there because, “Bailey’s gotten to you?”

  “Huh?”

  “She’s impatient. She messaged me three times today from school, asking if I’d made up my mind about talking to your mother.”

  “Well, at least we know her phone works,” I mumbled under my breath.

  “Hmm?”

  “Have you?” I asked, shaking off my agitation that Bailey could pick up the phone and inquire about Mom, yet she couldn’t even answer a text or call about the promises she’d made to help my friend … or even pick up the phone when her boyfriend called, for that matter. “Have you made up your mind about talking to Mom?”