Huntington Family Series

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  Upstairs in the bathroom adjoining her room, Kerrianne set the pills Maxine had given her in the mirrored medicine cabinet and looked at herself in despair. It was too late to take a shower, but she could put a few steam rollers in her hair to sit while she applied a bit of makeup. She had some in the drawer that she sometimes used on Sundays.

  Kerrianne set her hair quickly and reached for her eye shadow. The makeup had definitely seen better days. In fact, Kerrianne wondered if it was still safe to use; she couldn’t remember when she’d purchased it. She dabbed a bit on.

  “Kids, come and eat!” she heard Maxine call downstairs.

  After the eye shadow, she tried to put on some liner, but the pencil was dull, and she couldn’t find a sharpener. Her lipstick was so used that she’d have to scrape it out with a bobby pin. Instead, she smoothed a bit of Vaseline on her lips.

  Going to her closet, she quickly discarded several choices. When had her clothes become so big? Nothing seemed to fit except the blouse Maxine had suggested. It had been a gift from her sister months ago, but Kerrianne didn’t often wear it because the color was so bright. Happy. As though there were something to celebrate. Kerrianne didn’t often feel like celebrating.

  She pulled on black pants, and though they were too loose, the fitted top set them off just right. Lastly, she took out the curlers, running her fingers gently through the curls. Her hair looked nice, but it wouldn’t last through the play if she didn’t use hair spray. She grabbed the bottle only to find the tip was clogged.

  “Kerrianne! Are you ready yet?” Maxine called. “Do you need some help? I’m pretty good with makeup, you know.”

  Kerrianne knew. Maxine sold makeup—an expensive brand that Kerrianne couldn’t remember the name of—and she was a walking advertisement. Not that she put on too much; Maxine was tasteful in her makeup choices, as she was with her clothes. Too bad the tendency didn’t extend to her word choice.

  “I’m ready.” Without another glance in the mirror, Kerrianne headed down the stairs. Maxine waited at the bottom, hands on her hips, her lips pursed in disapproval.

  “Well, at least you had the good sense to wear the blouse. Don’t you have any lipstick? And base? You can’t go without base.”

  “I’m running low on a few things.” Kerrianne scowled at her—or tried to. The way Maxine was looking at her made her more nervous than anything.

  “That’s what I thought. Don’t worry, dear—I came prepared with my samples and plenty of disposable applicators. Come here for a minute.” Maxine pulled her into the downstairs bathroom, simultaneously flicking on the light.

  “Maxine, I don’t want any more makeup.”

  “What color of eye shadow is that anyway?” Maxine squinted at her for a moment before pulling out her reading glasses and sticking them on her face. “Purple? No, with your eyes I’d rather use a shade of blue. Just enough to enhance the color of your eyes. Not for the lid, mind you, just the crease. For the lid we’ll use this pale pink. But it has to be the right color . . . Oh, here it is.” Maxine was opening a kit as she spoke. Her face was so serious and absorbed—so happy—that Kerrianne decided to let her have her way. What could it hurt?

  “Oh, wait. First we should put on base.” Maxine shook a bottle and began dabbing the contents on Kerrianne’s nose and cheeks. Then she went back to the eye shadow. “We’ll use a dark blue eyeliner,” Maxine said as she worked. “And you need some pencil for your eyebrows. They’re too pale.”

  Kerrianne endured Maxine’s ministrations with good grace. Mascara followed the eyeliner, and then Maxine took out a mini bottle of hair spray and began working on her hair, rising to her tiptoes to back comb the hair on top near the scalp. “Your hair really is a beautiful light brown,” she said, “but I’m thinking you might want to get some highlights. I’ll give you the name of my hairdresser. She’s the best.”

  Kerrianne had no intention of coloring her hair, but she didn’t say so aloud. “My hair isn’t light brown,” she said. “It’s dark blonde.”

  Maxine snorted. “Same thing.”

  “It’s not the same thing at all.” Kerrianne had always been blonde, and she didn’t know if she was ready to have brown hair.

  “There, all done. See? It only takes two minutes.” Maxine turned Kerrianne toward the mirror. Kerrianne stared at the transformation. The eyeliner was thicker than she would have used, and she’d never known her lashes could be so long, but the whole picture was nice. Better than nice. Stunning. But this wasn’t her. This woman was a stranger. A familiar stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. This was the woman she had been before the accident. This woman belonged to another life. The perfect life, where wives knew how to keep their husbands from dying and leaving them alone.

  “You okay?” Maxine’s voice was subdued now, as though she had read Kerrianne’s thoughts.

  “I—I don’t know.” Kerrianne felt tears gathering in her eyes.

  Maxine put a hand on her arm. “You look fabulous. And I’m not just saying that.”

  “Thank you.” What would Adam say if he could see her now? She bet he’d sweep her up into his arms and kiss her until all the pink lipstick was gone. And she would kiss him right back as hard as she could. She’d never let him go. Oh, Adam! I miss you.

  Kerrianne swallowed hard. “Maxine?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you ever talk to your husband?”

  Maxine’s face broke into a wide smile. “Are you kidding? I talk to him more now than when he was alive. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Now I chat and chat and he just listens. Why, only this morning I was cleaning my bedroom and I felt he was there, lying on the bed like he always used to on Saturday mornings. I told him all about how Harold was trying to take his place. I tell you, it was good to get it all out in the open like that. I could really see what I wanted to do—and that’s not to let Harold get his way.”

  “And what did your husband say?”

  Maxine’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Oh, sweetie, he doesn’t talk back. He just listens. If they talk back, well, then you have a problem.” She paused. “Well, at least if they do it all the time.”

  “But do you sometimes feel him? Kind of like talking? Here, I mean.” Kerrianne held her hand to her heart, which was aching with need for Adam so acutely that she felt that if she moved even so much as an inch she might die.

  “Yes. I do. I know what you mean. But I feel it less now than I used to. He’s been gone more than five years now, you know.”

  Kerrianne did know. She also knew that Maxine had been devastated by her husband’s death from cancer and that she’d gone to live with one of her daughters for more than a year afterward. She’d still been with her daughter at the time Adam was killed. It comforted Kerrianne to know Maxine still missed her husband, that she talked to him, and that at the same time she somehow managed to be happy without him.

  “Anyway,” Maxine added, “I think Charles has stuff he’s doing. And so do I.”

  Kerrianne wondered if among all the things to do in heaven Adam had learned to play a harp. He’d always wanted to, but his guitar had taken all his free time.

  “Guess that will have to wait until the next life,” she’d told him so often it became a joke between them.

  “That’s a great idea,” he’d said. She wasn’t so sure anymore. Not since it had taken him away from her.

  “Are you ready?” Maxine asked, breaking through her thoughts. “We should go if we want to be on time.”

  “What is this play anyway?” She was sure Maxine had told her at one point, but she couldn’t dredge up the name from her memories.

  “Robin Hood. Don’t you listen to anything I say? Come on, let’s go.”

  Kerrianne followed Maxine from the bathroom. “I just want to say good-bye to the kids.”

  “Okay, but no kissing them. That lipstick is good, but it isn’t kid proof.”

  “I hope Misty doesn’t make a scene about going. She loves plays.” Kerria
nne hoped Misty’s adoration of Lexi would keep her from begging to go with them.

  When they spied Kerrianne, the children ran up and hugged her. “You look pretty, Mom,” Misty said, her blue eyes wide with admiration.

  “Pretty?” Lexi echoed. “She’s hot!”

  Kerrianne flushed. “Uh, thanks. I think. Now don’t let the kids go outside while I’m gone.”

  “I know—and no neighbors over.” Lexi grinned at her. “Don’t worry. I promise they’ll all be alive and safe when you get home. I won’t even let them watch TV.”

  Kerrianne walked to the front door. “Well, you can put in a video if you need to. But have them brush their teeth and put pajamas on at eight and then bed.”

  “Aw, Mom,” Misty protested. “Can’t we stay up a little later? Lexi’s here, and we want to have fun.”

  “Okay, nine—since it’s Saturday. But remember, we have church tomorrow.”

  “Yes!” Misty lifted an arm into the air. The boys copied her, giggling.

  “Have a nice time at the play,” Lexi called as they went down the porch steps.

  “I will. Thanks. Lock the door. And don’t answer the phone unless you hear me on the answering machine. I have my cell phone if you need me. I left the number on a piece of paper next to the kitchen phone.”

  “Okay. But don’t worry. We’ll be fine!” Lexi shut the door.

  Maxine grinned at her. “Whew, I forgot what it’s like having little kids. I’m glad you have them when you’re young. It’s too much effort for old people like me.”

  Kerrianne blew out air between pursed lips. “You have more energy than anyone I know.”

  “That’s because I exercise. If I didn’t do that, I’d really be old. Like Harold. If he doesn’t do something soon, he’s going to have a heart attack.”

  “Well, at least then he wouldn’t ask you to marry him.” Kerrianne grimaced. “I didn’t mean it that way. I wouldn’t want Harold to . . . I just meant that—”

  Maxine laughed, the skin around her eyes wrinkling into a myriad of fine lines. “I know how you meant it. Don’t give it another thought. Besides, Harold’s too ornery to die. If he did have a heart attack, all that would mean is that the neighborhood would have to come in and take care of him, me included. But I won’t do his laundry, I tell you. I’m finished with men’s laundry.”

  Kerrianne smiled and fastened her safety belt. Going with Maxine tonight was a good thing. Her headache was completely gone—and without the benefit of the aspirin tablets that still sat in her upstairs bathroom cupboard.

  * * *

  As he helped put finishing touches on the tiny stage, Ryan took a moment to glance between the curtains and peek out at the audience. The community theater at the Pleasant Grove library wasn’t large, and on this closing night all the seats would be filled. The audience was a lively group, and people chattered to one another as they found their seats. A grin came to his face as he spied Maxine. True to her word, she had a woman in tow instead of her gentleman friend, but contrary to his expectations, this woman was at least half Maxine’s age with hair that looked dark in the dim light and framed her face in becoming waves. At this considerable distance the friend looked attractive, if too slender, but she carried herself with an air of grace and confidence that drew his attention—and seemed oddly familiar. Who was she?

  He tried to stifle his interest. She probably had five children and a husband waiting at home, and this was a girls’ night out. All the good ones seemed to be taken. By the time they got enough experience to really be interesting, they had already been snatched up.

  Or could there be a woman out there for him? One near his own age that he hadn’t yet met? Laurie had believed she existed.

  “Ryan,” Sam hissed. He turned to see the assistant director behind him, her chin-length blonde hair shining around her like a halo. She was beautiful.

  Ryan dropped the curtain. “What?”

  “Ria’s having some sort of problem. You’d better go check it out.”

  He quickly went to the small backstage dressing room, crammed with actors, and found his nine-year-old daughter in a corner crying about a rip in the seam of her pants. “I can’t go onstage with my underwear showing!” she sobbed.

  “Hey, I’ve got some masking tape. Don’t worry about it.” He set a comforting hand on her shoulder.

  “That’s what you did the last time, and it doesn’t stay! You said you’d sew it! Every time I sit down, it could pop open.” Her words rose to a wail. A few cast members glanced in their direction. Ria looked away angrily.

  He stood and began rummaging through a box of costume odds and ends, finding a box of safety pins. “How about some pins, then? Hurry, take off your pants behind that chalkboard, and I’ll fix it right up.”

  “Dad, I’m not taking off my pants in here!” She gestured to all the other people, who were immersed in their own last-minute wardrobe and makeup fixes.

  “Well, there’s no time for me to do anything else. I have to go on stage in a minute. What’s the big deal? You can hide under this blanket.”

  “Oh, Dad, you just don’t understand!”

  No, he didn’t. The Ria he knew wouldn’t have minded changing behind the chalkboard, blanket or no blanket, and in fact had done so many times before. What was different now? She’d suddenly turned into a creature he didn’t understand. Was this early puberty, or simply the way girls were?

  Ria thrust out her hands for the pins. “Just give them to me. I’ll get Sam to help me fix it in the bathroom.”

  “Okay, but hurry. You don’t want to miss your cue.”

  Ria wrapped the blanket around her waist and stomped away.

  Ryan sighed. What was he going to do with her? Somehow they had to get through this new phase, but would she still like him when it was over? His understanding was growing thinner each day—and so was hers. Once they’d been best buddies, but now she was drawing away from him, which made him try to hold on tighter. He didn’t want to lose her. He’d lost enough already.

  What Ria needed was a woman to help her find her way. A woman to soften and buffer their interactions until they found themselves again. But he’d tried to find someone. The only woman who remotely fit the bill was Sam—and that was another story.

  Ryan heaved a sigh, pushing these unhappy thoughts from his head. Only a few minutes left to get into character, a few minutes to give himself over to this other identity. It wasn’t hard once he concentrated, and leaving his own life for a few hours gave him the respite he so desperately needed from single parenting.

  At the same time a fleeting thought came to him. If there was a woman out there for him, she would have to find him or magically appear in his path. Because behind the happy mask, behind the facade of capability, he was mentally and emotionally exhausted. Maybe next week he’d feel differently, but for now he was sick—sick of dating, of hoping, of trying.

  Chapter Three

  The play was very good, and the smallness of the theater gave it an air of familiarity that Kerrianne enjoyed. She clapped enthusiastically as the cast came out on the stage for a final bow. Maxine put her fingers to her mouth and let out a loud whistle that made Kerrianne laugh.

  “Come on,” Maxine told her as most of the audience began filing up the two aisles and out the doors. “I want you to meet someone.”

  “You know one of the actors?”

  Maxine gave her an enigmatic smile. “Yeah, you do too—or should—but we were sitting kind of far back. Let’s see if you recognize him up close.”

  Kerrianne wondered if one of the teens who’d played Robin Hood’s Merry Men lived in their neighborhood. Or did Robin Hood look like her home teacher’s oldest son, the one who was in college now?

  “He was the best actor tonight, I think,” Maxine continued. “I’ll have to tell him so. He wasn’t quite as good in the last play I saw.”

  Kerrianne followed Maxine to the impossibly narrow backstage where people were packing things away and
talking excitedly. She didn’t see how they would find anyone in this confusion.

  “Ah, there he is.” Maxine edged around two teens and walked toward a man hefting a large backdrop, his movements awkward in the confined space. Kerrianne recognized his costume as belonging to the Sheriff of Nottingham. He’d been very good, and now that they were closer, there was something familiar about him. Maxine was already talking to him, and he set down the backdrop and shook her hand. Kerrianne hurried to catch up, knocking over a water bottle someone had set up against the wall. The man looked up, eyes locking onto hers.

  Recognition flooded over Kerrianne. She knew him! And yet he looked so different than she’d last seen him that morning in his postal uniform. He was taller than she’d thought, broader too, but the friendly smile was the same one he’d had while throwing the ball with her son. Tonight he was more handsome, more dangerous, though that might have more to do with his costume and his villainous role as the Sheriff of Nottingham than his own personality. His eyes slid over her in appreciation, causing her to flush. She was grateful for the dim lighting—and that he couldn’t feel the pounding of her heart.

  “You were really great tonight, Ryan,” Maxine was saying. “You nailed it just right. Much better than the last play. In that one you were a little flat.”

  Ryan shifted his gaze from Kerrianne to Maxine. “Well, it’s always fun to play the bad guy.”

  “So does that mean you’re going to lose the beard now? And cut your hair?”

  He smiled and gave half shrug with one shoulder. “Maybe. I kind of like looking dangerous.”

  As Maxine laughed, his eyes wandered back to Kerrianne. She felt them burning into her face. Her heart started pounding again, and her breath caught in her throat. What was wrong with her? He was just a man—her mailman, to be exact. A man she’d glimpsed almost every day for the past four years and probably longer. Why was her body acting so strangely?

  There was no reason for it, unless . . . With horror, Kerrianne realized she was attracted to him. But how could she possibly be attracted to another man when she was still in love with Adam? The idea was utterly ridiculous. Yet it hadn’t been so long that she couldn’t remember what attraction felt like.