Over the Moon at the Big Lizard Diner

by Lisa Wingate

  “What?” I’d been so overjoyed about seeing her, I hadn’t yet begun to wonder what she was doing here. Now the still, small voice of my conscience reminded me that I shouldn’t pump her for information. Dozens of divorce books and self-help articles had warned me not to use her loyalties in a tug-of-war between her father and me. “It’s OK. We can talk about it later.” I glanced toward the porch, where everyone, including Geoff, was allowing me to have my reunion with Sydney in relative privacy.

  Following my line of vision, Sydney lowered her voice. “They had a big fight.” Her eyes were wide with an unhealthy amount of interest in what was clearly an adult situation. She was gauging my reaction, so I tried to appear impassive as she fed out more information. “Then the police came, but it wasn’t a do-mes-tic disturbance call. They made us go straight to the airport, and we didn’t even get to pack our suitcases. I had to leave all my stuff that I bought. Dad said Melicha would pack it up and send it to our house in Colorado.”

  I stood silent for a moment, too stunned to reply. Domestic disturbance call? Where had she learned that phrase? What had my daughter been exposed to in Mexico?

  “Mom?” Sydney’s dark brows twisted into a worried knot. “It’s OK, isn’t it?”

  No, it’s not. It’s so far from OK, you’d need a rocket ship to get to OK from here.

  “Of course it’s OK, honey. I’m just so glad that you’re here, I can’t even think of what to say. Give me another one of those great hugs. Oh, I have missed your hugs.” I took her in my arms and lifted her up as though she were a toddler, even though she was too big for it now. And even though she was too big for it, she wrapped her arms and legs around me and hung on. Her chest deflated as if she’d been holding her breath for a long time and could finally let go. I felt her heartbeat against my mine, the hurried rhythms slowly lengthening into sync.

  Carrying her toward the porch, I glared at Geoff. You rushed our daughter out of Mexico with only the clothes on her back? You let her learn words like domestic disturbance call? What is wrong with you? How could you do this? She is an eight-year-old child. She needs a father, not an oversize teenager playing some bizarre game of international house with his college-age girlfriend … wife … whatever.

  Geoff blinked at me with a hopeful look that said, Hey, look, I brought Sydney for a visit. Isn’t that great? I wanted to wrap my hands around his razor-stubbled neck and squeeze that look off his face.

  But underneath the happy-hippie facade there was something that tugged at me, even though I didn’t want it to. Geoff looked ragged, his overly long hair hanging in shaggy brown curls around his face, his eyes bloodshot around the brown centers. Deep, worried wrinkles fanned across the tops of his cheeks, which had been polished to the color and texture of leather by the sun and blowing sands of Mexico. He needed a shave and a bath and, judging by the sagging curve of his shoulders, some sleep. Sitting on the porch chair in his wrinkled hiking shorts, the Moroccan-style sandals I’d always jokingly called his Moses sandals, and a loose-fitting Hawaiian shirt with an annoyingly loud print of beer bottles, beach chairs, and margarita glasses, he seemed out of place, uncomfortable, and depressed. He looked like a teenager who’d just wrecked the family car and was waiting for the lecture.

  In all the years I’d known Geoff, I’d never seen him like that. Geoff was always confident, the life of the party, with an easy laugh and an invisible charisma that drew people to him. He was a consummate salesman, equal parts idealist and shyster. But today he appeared to have run out of things to sell. He seemed to have deflated to half his normal size.

  Frustrated by the rush of sympathy, I stopped in the gateway, hiking Sydney’s knobby legs up onto my hip bones. She wrapped herself tighter as if she’d never turn loose again. Closing my eyes, I leaned against the gate and drank her in like water.

  When I looked up, Laura was coming down the steps with a nervous frown. Geoff still hadn’t moved. He’d probably seen the murderous glare on my face, and was afraid to. Nobody on the porch had reacted, except for Laura, the designated emissary and family peacemaker.

  Laura looked like she was afraid I’d toss Sydney into the SUV and make a run for the state line.

  “Lindsey, don’t make a scene,” she ground out, like a ventriloquist, holding a false smile and speaking through clenched teeth. Giving me a one-armed hug, she patted Sydney’s back so that from the porch it would look like a perfectly pleasant sister-to-sister greeting. Against my ear, she whispered, “Just be calm, all right?”

  I focused on my sister. Sydney wiggled out of my arms, and to my complete horror she trotted back to the porch and climbed into Geoff’s lap as if she needed to protect him from me. I felt like I’d lost her all over again. “I am calm.” Deadly calm. “What is he doing here? My God, I’ve been going out of my mind all morning, wondering where my daughter is.”

  Laura lifted a hand helplessly, then clamped it to the top rail of the fence, conscious of her body language and the audience watching. “I don’t know, exactly. It sounds like his wife left him and he had some kind of trouble with his visa, not necessarily in that order, although her father is apparently some kind of a British ambassador to Mexico, so it’s certainly likely that the two events are related.”

  “Leave it to Geoff to be well connected,” I growled, rekindling the urge to strangle him. Anger and resentment crackled through my body like a fuse carelessly lit, the flame heading for something big.

  Sensing it, Laura shifted nervously, smoothing a hand up and down my arm. “Don’t do anything hasty, all right?” She leaned down to catch my attention, her blue eyes so like my mother’s. “The main thing is that Sydney’s here. He could have taken her anywhere, but he brought her to you.” My sister was the voice of moderation, as always. She was, after all, the sweet and sensitive twin.

  “Thank God for that.” I let a long breath slip through my lips, then another, slowly feeling a little less like the evil twin, and a little more like the new Zen Lindsey who’d learned that relationships take time, and when you are dealing with someone more powerful than yourself, love, patience, honesty, trust, and kindness are the only tools that work. This summer Geoff had the power. He had custody of Sydney for six more weeks, and he could drag her all over the world and into all his marital problems, if he wanted to. I puffed out another cleansing breath, like the ones I had learned years ago in Lamaze class. Giving birth to a new relationship with Geoff was going to take some effort and lots of mental pain management. To help the process along, I visualized Sydney safely back with me for the rest of the summer. “How did they get here? When? Has he said anything about sending Sydney home with me?”

  Laura shrugged. “He hasn’t said anything about his plans. He seems kind of … lost and disoriented. They phoned my house from the airport around eleven o’clock. Graham happened to be home for lunch, and he took the call. He contacted me, and we picked them up. Then we drove here. That’s about all I know.”

  “They flew all the way from Mexico without telling anyone?” My anger ratcheted up again. I pictured my exhausted daughter stranded for hours in some airport while Geoff called around for a ride.

  “Lindsey …” Laura admonished.

  Breathe, breathe. “OK, I’m calm.” I checked the crowd on the porch again. “How did Collie get here?”

  “I picked her up for moral support. I was afraid you might—”

  “Pop a cork?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, I’m not. I want to take Sydney back to Colorado, and reaming Geoff out won’t get me what I want.” Laura drew back, surprised, and I added, “I learned a few things in horse psychology class.”

  “I was hoping you would,” slipped from her mouth, and then she slapped her fingers over her lips as in, Did I say that out loud?

  I wagged a finger at her. “You and I can talk later. I know you and Collie sent me here as a setup.”

  “No, we didn’t,” Laura rushed out, blinking innocently and pulling her lips be
tween her teeth.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter now. The psychology class was helpful.” Squinting toward Geoff again, I started toward the porch. “Especially now that we’re dealing with a horse’s butt.”

  “Lindsey …” Laura warned under her breath, hurrying to catch up with me with her petite steps. “Be good.”

  She needn’t have bothered with the reprimand, because Sydney ran interference, hopping off Geoff’s lap and catching me on the stairs. “Can we go swimming now?” Grabbing my hand, she put on her puppy face. “Pleeease. Miss Jocelyn said I can swim at the river, and Dad said as soon as you got here we could go. Can we go? Pleeeeeease?”

  I scratched my head, trying to decide what to do. On the one hand, Geoff and I needed to talk. On the other hand, this wasn’t the place. “What would you wear to swim in?” I asked, loudly enough for Geoff to hear. “You don’t have any suitcase or anything.”

  “She’s …” Geoff paused to clear his throat. His voice was gravelly and raw. “She’s got a swimsuit on under her clothes.”

  I widened my eyes at him over Sydney’s head. You brought my daughter all the way from Mexico in her swimsuit? I pictured her skin chafed and raw from a night in tight elastic. Not only had she arrived without clean underwear, she didn’t even have underwear.

  “I was swimming when the police came,” Sydney said cheerfully, as if all of this were perfectly normal. “Anyhow, now I won’t have to change clothes to swim at the river.” Her smile added, Cool, huh?

  “That’s true, honey.” Calm down, calm down, Horse Psychology Lindsey whispered in my head. You have to work with Geoff’s stupidity, not against it. It is too big to conquer by brute force. I smoothed a hand over Sydney’s hair. “Tell you what. Why don’t your dad”—I swallowed hard, trying not to choke on the word—“and I take you?” I needed to talk to Geoff alone. If he was planning to traipse around the world after his escaped wife, I didn’t want him taking Sydney along.

  Collie and Laura quickly took the hint and stood up. “We’d better be getting home,” Collie said, making a show of checking her watch. “We left the guys at my house watching Bailey, but True was dying to head out to the pasture and show Graham his new cedareradicating machine. There’s no telling where they are now, and what they’ve done with my daughter.”

  I forced a laugh. Bet she has clean underwear on. “You know, I have to see her before I leave.”

  Laura, Jocelyn, and Collie all drew back at the word leave. It felt wrong on my tongue. A strange reality, but what else was there to do now? My days on Fantasy Island were over. It was time to focus on Sydney.

  “Oh, listen, Sydney and Geoff can bunk at our place,” Collie offered. “Laura and Graham brought clothes to stay overnight, because some friends of ours are having a big anniversary bash tomorrow and renewing their vows. Bailey’s the flower girl—no telling how that will work out, with a toddler—but if you come over, you can see her in her flower-girl outfit. We could get some pictures of her and Sydney. Who can say when we’ll get the chance to do that again?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” I hesitated. “Sydney doesn’t even have clothes with her. I should probably …” What? Toss her in the car in her swimsuit, exhausted, and make her ride fifteen hours, back to Colorado? Sydney needed a good night’s rest, and I needed time to straighten out Geoff’s mess.

  “Tell you what,” Laura rushed in like a wide receiver taking Collie’s pass. “I’ll pick up some things for her at the dry-goods store in San Saline and bring them out in the morning.”

  Collie nodded. “See? Problem solved. I’ll get some rooms ready for Geoff and Sydney, and they can come on over when they’re ready. One thing about living in a restored schoolhouse—we have plenty of bedrooms.”

  “They can stay with me tonight.” The words were out of my mouth before I even thought about what I was saying. The truth was that I didn’t want my little girl to be anywhere but with me. If I had to take Geoff in the bargain, I would. He could sleep on the doormat with Mr. Grits. “There are two upstairs bedrooms in the cabin. There’s plenty of space. It’s just for one night, anyway. That is, if it’s OK with Jocelyn and Pop.”

  “Course it’s OK,” Pop answered without waiting for Jocelyn. Reaching toward Sydney, he opened and closed his fingers, palms up. “C’mon in here for a minute. As I recall, there’s some old floatin’ tubes in the storage room. Let’s pull one out and we’ll hop down to the barn and air it up. Nothin’ more fun on the river than floatin’ the rapids.”

  “Cool!” Sydney cheered, and slipped her hand into his. She followed him into the house, her short-legged steps a perfect companion to his slow shuffle.

  Jocelyn watched them go, then turned back to Geoff and me. “Anything you need, just let me know. The swimming hole is just upriver from the track site, so you shouldn’t have any trouble finding it. It’s a beautiful afternoon. Enjoy.” Hands folded calmly in her lap, she looked every bit the benevolent therapist observing the drama of human interaction through a pleasantly impassive face. I could only imagine what she was thinking about Geoff and me: Dysfunctional divorced couple. Mother displaying serious abandonment issues, latent resentment. Father afflicted with Peter Pan syndrome. Daughter acting in inappropriate role as peacemaker. Big mess.

  Jocelyn glanced toward the driveway, and it occurred to me that she was watching for Zach. Zach, who would be showing up anytime. I’d lost sight of that for a minute. When he came home he was going to find me hanging out at the cabin with my ex-husband. Worse yet, when Geoff saw Zach and me together, he was going to add up two and two. Worst of all, if Sydney saw any hints of romance, she would start building one of her pipe dreams about her mom finding a soul mate—another phrase she’d learned from Geoff and Whitney. Soul mates—life’s plan and purpose, according to Whitney. It was impossible to be happy without one, and Sydney wanted me to be happy. Aside from that, her best friend had a great stepdad, and she wanted one, too. Every time she saw me acting even remotely friendly with a man, she fell into a blended-family fantasy, and then when nothing happened, she was crushed. She’d already had her emotions tied up in enough romantic drama this summer. She didn’t need me adding more.

  I’d just have to make sure there weren’t any hints of romance. My biggest complaint against Geoff, and my most convincing reason for getting him to leave Sydney with me, was his inappropriately involving her in his unstable relationship with Whitney. I couldn’t let myself be guilty of doing the same thing. Sydney’s well-being had to come first, at least with one of us. I had to talk Geoff into letting her go, and then take her back to Colorado before he changed his mind. As soon as we got home, I was going to see the judge about the custody agreement. With Geoff single, unstable, and now homeless, there was no way he should be taking care of an eight-year-old child.

  Even though the decision was clear in my mind, I continued nervously checking the driveway as we said good-bye to Collie and Laura, and then waited for Sydney and Pop to come back. When she returned, Sydney had a gigantic black inner tube, an olive-drab army life raft, an old-fashioned orange floatation vest, a box of old clothes that Pop said she and Geoff could borrow, three towels, and a stringer of plastic fish with squirty mouths.

  “Tomorrow morning I’ll take you fishin’ and we’ll catch some real ones,” Pop told her as we opened the back hatch of my SUV to cram everything in. “That is, if you can get up early.”

  No, no, no, I thought. Don’t encourage her to hope for things that aren’t going to happen. Don’t make promises we can’t keep. “We’ll see,” I interjected, playing the killjoy mom. “We’ll probably be leaving in the morning.”

  Sydney completely ignored me, or else she didn’t hear. “I can get up early,” she said brightly. “Really early. Dad always sleeps late when he doesn’t have to go to work, so we can fish for a long time.”

  “We’ll see,” I repeated. The situation was slipping out of control, so I hustled Sydney toward the backseat as Geoff headed for the passenger-side do
or. “Guess we’d better go. Sydney, tell Pop thank you for all the great stuff.”

  Sydney not only told Pop thank you, she ran back and hugged him, her face disappearing into the folds of his shirt just above his belt buckle. “Thanks, Pop!” she chirped into the fabric, then unwrapped her arms and ran back to the Jeep, yanking up the door handle, which turned out to be locked.

  “Here, I’ll get it.” On the other side of the car, Geoff opened the passenger-side door and punched the unlock button. He and Mr. Grits spied each other at exactly the same moment. Jumping out of the floorboard, the dog let out a booming, “Bar-bar-bar-ooo!” and Geoff scrambled backward, landing on his rear end in the grass. “Holy … What the … Son of a … Sweet Jiminy Cricket, what is that?”

  Diving across the front seat, I grabbed a handful of dog hair just in time to stop Mr. Grits from bailing out the door to tackle Geoff. “It’s all right.” In my excitement over seeing Sydney, I’d completely forgotten the dog was in the car. “He’s all right. You just surprised him when you opened the door.”

  “I surprised him?” Geoff coughed, raising his hands palms out, afraid to move. “What in the world is that, a yeti?”

  I laughed, in spite of the fact that I was determined to detest Geoff’s company. Seeing him on the ground on his rear end was deeply satisfying. “It’s a dog. Part Great Pyrenees. A sheepdog.”

  Standing up slowly, Geoff kept his hands in front of himself like a suspect under arrest. “Well, tell it I’m not a sheep, OK?” He sidled to the back door, eyeing the dog. “Where’d you get that thing?”

  “Long story.” I turned around as Sydney bounced into the backseat and reached out to pet Mr. Grits. “Careful. I don’t know how he is with …” I needn’t have bothered. As soon as Mr. Grits spied Sydney, he forgot all about Geoff and me. Spinning slowly around, he whacked me in the face with his bushy tail, then proceeded to cram himself through the space between the front seats, so he could sit in the back next to Sydney. Geoff quickly vacated the area and moved to the front.