Breaking Ties

by Tracie Puckett

  “No.”

  “Well, rest assured that’s not what I’m after,” I said. “I don’t care if you decide to never see her again. I’ll back you up on that.”

  “You’re not curious about what she wants?”

  “I am,” I said, because I couldn’t lie to him. “I’m just … Dad, I’m scared.”

  And I didn’t have to explain why. We had something good going on, something that—for a very long time—Mom hadn’t been able to touch or destroy. But when she showed up out of the blue, I suddenly feared everything was going to change. And now that I suspected Bailey and Mom were a lot closer than they’d led us to believe, I couldn’t help but question everything my sister had told me in recent days.

  Was it possible that Bailey knew Mom was coming, and she’d only played dumb? And if so, what was with that dramatic act in those days leading up to Mom’s arrival? Why act like you hate someone that you care so much about? What purpose did that serve?

  I was scared, and Dad was the only person I felt would understand that. Mom could come in and shake up everything if she wanted to. She had enough of our hearts to still do some pretty significant damage. Dad might’ve been the only person who knew that about me, and I was the only person that knew it was true for him, too.

  “Dad,” I said, feeling a single tear slide down my cheek. “I want her to go away. I don’t want her here.”

  “I know,” he nodded, leaning forward to take my hand. “We can’t make her leave, though. We can keep our distance, we can shut her out, but we can’t make her go home. All we can do is hope that she’ll eventually give up and go back.”

  “You didn’t mean what you said then?” I asked. “You weren’t going to call her about having that dinner?”

  “No,” he promised. “I shouldn’t have lied to her about that, but I was thinking in the moment; I was going to say whatever it took to make her go away. As much as it pains me to say it, Mandy, I’m through. I don’t care what she has to say.”

  “What if she doesn’t go?”

  He stared off in the distance, looking toward the window. Something told me he’d been asking himself that very question ever since she showed up at our door. What if she didn’t leave? What if she chose to stay here? What if, after all this time, things weren’t working out with Ronnie, and she’d finally decided that being near her girls was the best thing for her? Then what? What would we do?

  “Can I run a scenario by you?” I asked, eliciting his stare again. “If Mom had plans to leave, if her intentions were good, she wouldn’t come here and lie to us about anything, right?”

  “Right.”

  “She’d have no reason to be anything but forthcoming and honest.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But what if she lied about keeping her distance? What if she said she wouldn’t contact any of us until you reached out again, and yet she remained closely in touch with one behind the others’ backs?” I asked, and Dad sat straighter. “Does a little white lie like that mean nothing has changed? Does it mean that she’s still willing to lie about the big stuff, too?”

  “Mandy, what are you saying?”

  “I ran into Mom at the bakery,” I said. “Actually, she ran into us, Jones and me.” Dad’s face drained of color. “She thought I was Bailey, and she was acting so strange—holding my hand, talking about the secrets we kept from the rest of the family … Dad, I think they’re up to something, and that worries me.”

  He sat motionless for a moment, but then he cleared his throat and nodded.

  “But we can’t say that Bailey knows anything,” he said. “Consider the source.”

  “If they weren’t close, why would Bailey have fought for Mom last week?” I asked. “Why would she push for you to make arrangements to schedule that dinner? Why would she … ”

  I’d almost ratted on her. I’d almost said skip school. After talking to Mom tonight at the bakery, I had no doubt that Desden was exactly where my sister had disappeared to in the middle of the school day.

  “I think they’ve been talking the whole time,” I said, looking down to our linked hands. He’d started off holding it tightly, but his grip had since fallen limp. “I can’t confirm it, but I think it all started Saturday night. There was a phone call or something. I heard voices in Bailey’s room. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it—I mean, she’s on the phone all the time, but she locked her door and took a long time to answer it when I knocked.”

  “Even if it’s true,” he said, “I can’t stop Bailey from talking to her mother.”

  “Dad, aren’t you listening to me? I think it’s more than that,” I said, but without proof, I couldn’t solidify that argument. “Mom said that she and Bailey had an understanding of some sort—that she didn’t condone the secrecy, but the nature of their discussions had to remain between them until you and I are ready. That doesn’t sound to me like they’re just talking. It sounds like they’re plotting.”

  He pressed his fingers against his temples, no doubt trying to push back an impending migraine. I wanted to lunge forward and hug him. I wanted to cry. I wanted him to tell me that I was wrong, that my sister hadn’t betrayed us for my mother. But I managed another deep breath, and I continued.

  “I’m not altogether surprised that they’re in contact,” I admitted, because after seeing the way Bailey lit up at Mom’s arrival, it wasn’t some huge shock. “And if she wants a relationship with Mom, that’s fine, but it’s the sneaking around part that’s bothering me. Bailey shouldn’t be hiding anything … not unless she thinks there’s a reason she should.”

  “The fact of the matter though, Mandy, is that we don’t know that they’re up to anything,” he said, his eyes saddening. The problem was, I think Dad suspected they were, too, and he didn’t want me to be right. “We can’t go pointing fingers and making wild assumptions just because Vic said some things.”

  “But I’m not comfortable ignoring what I heard,” I said. “Dad, I want answers.”

  “Then we set up that dinner,” he said, saying the words I’d dreaded hearing all along. I’d purposely avoided him, hoping he’d never say it. “We need to give them what they want. That’s all we can do.”

  And sadly, even though it scared me, I knew he was right.

  I couldn’t run from Mom forever, that much I knew. Sooner or later, we were all going to have to sit down and talk. I just wished it would’ve been much later than sooner … because I didn’t know if I would ever be ready.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The plan was in motion, and all I had to do was get through one more evening and one more day before I had to face my mother again. Dad had set everything up, and we were scheduled to have that dinner together. By the end of tomorrow night, we planned to have the answers to all the questions that were still up in the air. Why was Mom here? What did she want? What was going on with her and Bailey? I guess we’d find out.

  In the meantime, it was already Tuesday evening, and I was fulfilling a promise I’d made to Haley Goodwin on Sunday. That meant my focus belonged to one energetic little girl for the next few hours.

  Tonight I couldn’t distract myself with all of my curiosity and suspicions, nor could I dwell on the fact that I hadn’t seen Bailey since school yesterday morning. She’d called Dad last night after our talk to tell him she was staying with a friend, and I knew exactly what that had meant, especially when she didn’t show up for school at all today. Since Bailey still had our car, Dad dropped me off at school, and Fletcher gave me a ride to my babysitting gig for the evening.

  “Okay, so all of the emergency numbers are on the counter, first aid kit in the bathroom, and—”

  “Haley,” I said, almost laughing. It was adorable, how much she worried about leaving her daughter with someone new. I could tell that she didn’t do it often, if ever. She was wringing her wrists harder than Fletcher’s mom during our tour of Desden University, and I couldn’t help but laugh at her nervousness. It was totally cute. “She’ll
be fine. We’re going to have a calm, quiet, girl’s night in.”

  “Can we order pizza, Mandy? Can we, please?” Amanda asked, pulling at my arm.

  “There are leftovers in the refrigerator.”

  “No, Mom,” Amanda pleaded. “Jessie’s mom always leaves money for the babysitter to order pizza.”

  Haley’s expression grew grimmer. I imagined it was a conversation the two of them had a lot, but the little girl was still too young to understand why she couldn’t have and do all the same things as her friends.

  “Do you like cheese?” I asked. “Or are you more of a pepperoni kinda gal?”

  “I like cheese!” she said.

  “Me too.”

  Haley sighed. “Mandy, I can’t—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said to Haley. “I was probably going to order one anyway.”

  She gave me a hard look that said she didn’t believe me for a second, but it didn’t sit too long before a small smile broke it up. It was one time, and I didn’t see anything wrong with letting her daughter be a little demanding or even a little spoiled for just a night.

  “You know, as long as it’s okay?” I asked.

  “It’s fine, if you’re sure?”

  “What do you say, Amanda?” I looked to her daughter. “We’ll order a big cheese pizza, pop in a DVD, and play a few games. Let’s make a night of it.”

  Haley hesitated for a second. “Is there anything else you need?”

  “No, go on. You don’t want to be late. I’ve got this,” I said, and after a long-winded speech of just how fine we were going to be, I managed to push Haley through the front door.

  Five minutes later, the pizza was ordered and we were out the front door with a kickball in hand.

  We both got a few good kicks in before a familiar laugh from the sidewalk caught our attention. I turned, already grinning at his tone. I’d somehow forgotten that he’d planned to be in town tonight.

  Gabe and Lashell were walking in our direction, lost deeply in conversation. The autumn breeze had Lashell wrapping herself inside of a heavy jacket, but Gabe seemed content enough in a long-sleeved thermal and jeans.

  It seemed as though they were discussing something about the project, because Lashell always got this very serious look about her when she was focused on RI. Whatever it was, it was intense, because neither of them seemed to notice us standing in the front yard.

  “Gabe!” Amanda squealed, abandoning the kickball and running up the sidewalk. Her pigtails flew behind her, bouncing with each sprint she made in his direction. Both Gabe and Lashell turned at once, watching as she sprang closer to them. Just as she’d done at the soup kitchen last week, Amanda slammed straight into his midsection and wrapped her arms around him. He returned her hug before looking up to notice me.

  His eyes rounded with surprise, and it was only then that I realized I hadn’t told him that I was hanging with the little Goodwin for the night. “What’s going on here?”

  “Haley needed a sitter for the night,” I said. “So it’s me and the little one for a few hours.”

  Amanda still hadn’t given up her grip on him, so I reached around her as best I could to give him a hug.

  “That sounds fun,” he said, and once Amanda relinquished her grip, Gabe kneeled down to her level. “What are you guys up to tonight?”

  “We’re gonna watch a movie,” she said. “Do you want to come in and watch a movie with us? We ordered a big pizza!”

  “Oh, that’s a nice invitation, but maybe next time,” he said, glancing to me, and then back to her. She pouted her lip, and he laughed. “I’m sorry, kiddo, but … ”

  And he kept reasoning with her while Lashell turned to me.

  “Gabe finished up Sugar Creek for the week. We had a celebratory dinner over at Shae’s, and now we’re taking a stroll to walk it all off. Big accomplishment equals big dinner; we’re stuffed.”

  “Well, that’s okay,” Amanda said, hearing Lashell. She still hadn’t stopped looking at Gabe. “You can eat again!”

  “And what would your mom think if you had a friend over without asking for her permission first?” Gabe argued, trying his best to let her down easily.

  “I don’t think she’d care, but I don’t know,” she said, then her eyes rounded, and she smiled. “But Mandy’s in charge tonight, so you can ask her.”

  “Yeah, but here’s the thing, Amanda,” Gabe said, turning her back around before she had a chance to fully turn to me. “Your mom gave Mandy permission to stay with you this evening, and I’m not sure she’d be comfortable knowing that I invited myself over.”

  “But you’re not inviting yourself.” She stamped her foot. “I’m inviting you. Mandy, tell him he can come in.”

  Gabe looked to me, and I could see the conflict in his stare. He was right; I was in charge of Amanda, and she was my responsibility. Haley probably wouldn’t be comfortable with the idea of a man—especially someone I had romantic interest in—being in the house with her daughter all evening … even if it was Gabe, someone she knew and respected.

  “How ‘bout this,” Gabe said, offering a suggestion. “You guys go in and eat your pizza. Maybe after the movie is over, Mandy can give me a call, and we’ll walk over to the diner and get a sundae.”

  She twisted her lips and studied him closely, contemplating whether or not she should give up her position in the argument so easily. She shrugged a shoulder.

  “Sure, why not? I guess we can make that work.”

  Lashell and I both smiled at Gabe’s fast solution, and then he ruffled her hair before he stood tall again.

  “Call me,” he said, and then Lashell threaded her arm through his and held him close as they walked away. Amanda and I headed back for the house.

  ###

  “Ugh,” Amanda said, rubbing her belly. She was higher than the rest of the world, perched on Gabe’s shoulders as we strolled through the neighborhood and back to her house. Fortunately for Gabe, it was a short trip from the diner back to the Goodwins. I could tell her squirming and bouncing was starting to take its toll. “Does anyone else feel like they swallowed an elephant because I sure do?”

  “Maybe because you ate every last ounce of ice cream left at the diner,” I said, recalling how she’d devoured hers long before I’d even gotten halfway through mine. She took the liberty of dipping her spoon into my bowl immediately after hers was empty, and it took every bit of strength I had not to laugh at her forwardness. She finished off Gabe’s, too. “She’ll never fall asleep tonight with all the sugar in her system,” I said to him. “She’s going to be wound tight, and her Mom’s never going to let me come back.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” he said, walking up the driveway and back to their house. He lifted her off his shoulders and planted her safely on the ground, and she took off running through the yard the moment her feet hit land. “The key to a successful bedtime is working off all the energy.”

  “And how do you propose we do that?”

  He laughed because she was already running laps around the yard. As I sat on the front stoop outside the house and watched her turn somersaults and cartwheels, Gabe rounded the house and disappeared into the backyard. He returned a few minutes later with a rake, and then he set to work, cleaning up the leaves as Amanda played around him.

  “So you had a big dinner,” I said, watching as he pulled the rake through the grass, piling up the leaves. “Part of a sundae—”

  “It was good, too!” Amanda said, zipping by him.

  “And now you’re suddenly in the mood for yard work?” I asked. He smiled at me but didn’t say a word.

  I joined them in the yard, Gabe working hard, and Amanda running around like the energetic ball of energy that she was. I rounded her up and kept her in one spot long enough to start back on our friendly game of ball-kicking, and fifteen minutes later, Gabe loudly announced the completion of his project.

  We looked over to the mountain of reds, oranges, yellows, and browns. If she
stood next to it, Amanda could probably confirm my suspicion that it was almost as tall as her.

  “Wow, that’s huge! Can I jump in it?”

  “That’s what it’s there for,” he said, and then he swooped her off her feet and tossed her on top of the giant pile. She sank completely through it, the leaves overtaking her entire body. For a few seconds, she completely disappeared inside. Her giggles echoed through the street as she sprang up, leaves hanging from her clothes and hair. “Do it again!”

  She pulled on his ankle, trying to yank him into the pile, but Gabe was too tall and too strong. As hard as she tried, he wasn’t budging.

  “You gotta hit him behind the knee,” I called over, almost laughing. “That’s his weak spot. Just one swift hit will take him straight down.”

  “Hey!” he yelled, breaking a smile as he turned to me. She swung her elbow back, and he dodged the blow with seconds to spare. “I’m not making excuses or anything, Mandy, but that could’ve actually hurt. Whose team are you on, anyway?”

  “Oh, we’re picking teams?” I asked.

  “I’m fairly certain you just did,” he said, dodging Amanda’s elbow yet again. “Look at this! You’ve created a monster.”

  He scooped her up out of the pile yet again, and her laughs and giggles only grew louder. While he was distracted with her, I picked two handfuls of leaves from the pile and tossed them over his head, watching as they cascaded down his face.

  “She did not just do that,” he said, looking down to the seven-year-old in his arms.

  “Oh yes, she did,” she chuckled, and he dropped her lightly onto the pile and turned to me.

  “I say we make her pay.”

  “Me too!” she yelled, and they both turned to me and started running. I rounded the yard four times, weaving in and out of the trees, and that’s as far as I made it before I’d winded myself. I slid into the pile, disappearing beneath the leaves for only a second. Gabe dove in after me, and then Amanda landed on top of him. The three of us wrestled and rustled up the pile, each of us getting bumped, kicked, and tickled by the others. After a good twenty minutes of playing that way—rolling in the leaves and running through the yard—we were all looking quite disheveled, dirty, and worn out.