He was leaving. It was over.
“We want to hear about your date with Eduardo last night,” Daisy said.
“The date we helped set up,” Susan added. “Man, did we do well or what?” She fist-bumped Daisy. “Tell us every single detail.”
How could she begin to tell her friends what had happened in the past twenty-four hours? How she’d reached the heights of hope and excitement—maybe even love—with Eduardo.
And how it had all come crashing down.
Her phone buzzed and automatically she pulled it out.
The text was from Lauren.
Mr. Delgado says they’re moving out on Monday.
She hadn’t known she could feel worse, but the heaviness of a thousand stones pressed down on her. She hadn’t just imagined it. It was really happening.
Her steps slowed, then stopped.
“What?” Daisy asked.
“What’s wrong?” Susan put her hand on Fiona’s arm.
She texted back.
Sure.
And then she looked from Susan to Daisy. “He’s moving out of the carriage house. On Monday.” Slowly, she started walking again.
“Why would he do that?” Daisy asked. “I thought they were staying through the end of the school year, at least.”
“Maybe he found a house,” Susan said. “Wasn’t he looking to buy something?”
“They haven’t found a place yet. He wants us to take care of his dog until they do.” She felt like a robot, saying the words in a monotone. “It’s because...because he’s mad at me.”
Amid her friends’ questions and concerned glances, Fiona kept hearing her mother’s voice: Why would he choose you?
She didn’t know she’d said it aloud until Daisy and Susan tugged her to a halt. “He would choose you because you’re wonderful,” Daisy said.
“And beautiful and a good person and fun,” Susan added.
Fiona shook her head. Her girlfriends would always staunchly defend her, but she knew her deficits.
“You have to talk to him,” Susan said. “Confront him with it. Find out what’s really going on.”
“I already know what’s going on,” she said miserably. “I froze under pressure and didn’t get a chance to explain before he walked away. Besides, he could have any woman in town. One with no baggage or a mom who would make him and his kids feel like less. He doesn’t want anything more to do with me.”
“Talk to him some more,” Daisy urged.
Fiona shook her head. “I just don’t think I can handle another rejection. Not this weekend. Not now.”
Daisy and Susan glanced at each other. “I’m texting Dion,” Daisy said.
“And I’m texting Sam.”
“No, don’t.” But she didn’t have the energy to stop them. To talk anymore. She just wanted to go home and crawl into bed.
* * *
But of course, that wasn’t to be. When she got home, the place was in chaos. Kids crying, her mother ineffectually trying to force them to behave, the dog barking.
“Do you want us to...?” Daisy and Susan both asked in unison.
“No. I’ll handle it.” And she waved goodbye to them and waded in, feeling like a hundred-pound weight sat on her shoulders.
Mechanically, she hugged Poppy, who was crying. Got her a stuffed animal and some semi-healthy chips, and told Maya to sit with her and watch a princess movie. Maya was the only one who didn’t seem upset—which was par for the course, and Fiona thanked God she had one nonsensitive child—but even she seemed to welcome a chance to relax and settle down.
“Mom,” Fiona said wearily. “Get yourself a cup of coffee. I’m going to talk to Lauren and Ryan.” And she led her two eldest out to the porch.
She didn’t feel like talking, didn’t want to confront this. But that was what you did as a single parent. You carried on even when you felt like you couldn’t, because there was no one else to shoulder the load.
For a brief bright moment, she’d thought she and Eduardo might go forward together. But clearly, she’d been deluded. She was alone, and she’d better get used to it.
The cheerful blooms along her front sidewalk sent their fragrance to them on a warm breeze, and Fiona tried to take in their message. Rebirth. Redemption. Life springing forth from cold, frozen ground.
She was learning. Trying to, anyway.
Amid her sadness, a little righteous anger surfaced toward Eduardo. He’d pushed her away again, just as he’d done after they’d kissed.
By now, he should know her better. He should have given her a chance to explain. And, she acknowledged to herself, she should have used her newfound strength and self-understanding to insist on it.
When Lauren sniffled, Fiona’s attention snapped back to the present moment. No matter what happened to her own dreams, her commitment to her kids’ well-being was ironclad. “So what happened, exactly?” she asked Lauren.
“I hate this thing.” Lauren pulled out her cell phone and handed it to Fiona. “Tell Grandma I don’t want it.”
“You don’t have to use it, but sure, we can give it back.” Fiona pocketed the phone. “What’s got you so upset?”
“Sofia’s mad at me because she doesn’t have one,” she said. “And I was texting Tiffany and this girl named Raquel, and they wanted me to download these apps that you’re not supposed to use until you’re thirteen. I told them I wasn’t allowed, and they called me a baby.”
“You did the right thing,” Fiona soothed her, a tiny sliver of light piercing the darkness in her heart. If Lauren could make a choice like that, against peer pressure, then Fiona had done something right as a mother, at least. She hugged Lauren. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom. I want to make up with Sofia, but they’re moving away.”
“So I hear.” Pain started to rise up in her again, but she stifled it down for her kids’ sakes. She couldn’t fall apart.
She looked at Brownie, who’d come outside with them. “So Brownie is going to have his mom visiting us for a little while, huh?”
“I don’t know why they’re moving. I wish they weren’t,” Lauren said.
Ryan cleared his throat. “I think I might know why. I hurt Diego’s feelings.”
“What happened?” She put an arm around her sensitive boy.
“We were talking about how his family didn’t have as much money as ours. He was kind of jealous of my building set, and I told him he could play with it, even though Grammy said his kind of people weren’t careful.”
“You told him what Grammy said?”
Ryan nodded miserably. “And he got mad. And said he didn’t want to play with it, anyway, or with me.”
Poppy banged out through the screen door and squatted down to give her brother and sister hugs. “I told Mr. Delgado he didn’t have to go back to Mex’co. Told him to marry Mommy and stay here.”
“You did?” Lauren asked.
“You did?” Ryan’s eyes widened.
“You did?” Fiona echoed, trying to wrap her mind around the umpteen ways this day had gone wrong. “Um...what did he say?”
“He didn’t answer me,” Poppy said.
Anger at her blunt, hurtful mother blazed in Fiona, but she tamped it down and beckoned to Maya, who’d been listening from inside the house. “All four of you, listen to me. What Grammy said was wrong. People come from all different places. Some have lots of money and some don’t have very much, but God values us all the same, do you hear me? We’re all the same in God’s eyes. And He wants all of us to get along. We don’t treat people differently based on where they’re from, or what they look like, or how much money they have.”
All four kids looked at her, eyes round, nodding. Of course, they knew all of that; she’d raised them tha
t way, and where she’d fallen short, Sunday school had filled in and expanded on that basic lesson.
Unfortunately, her mother hadn’t gotten the memo.
“I want you to stay out here while I talk to Grandma,” she said. She couldn’t fix things with Eduardo, but she could make sure her kids didn’t suffer any more damage. She wasn’t a weak woman who’d fall apart because of a man. She’d stayed strong for her kids before, and she could do it again.
“Are you mad at us?” Ryan asked.
“No. I’m not mad at you.” She hugged each of them quickly and then went inside.
In the kitchen, she yanked out a chair across from her mother, who was drinking coffee. “I have something to discuss with you.”
“My goodness, you sound angry.”
“I am,” she said. “First of all, the comments about weight have to stop. To me, but most of all, to my daughters.”
“What comments about weight?” Her mother’s eyes opened wide.
“Comments like ‘You’re not cooking that, are you?’ and ‘It’s never too early to watch your weight.’”
“I can understand why you’ve always been sensitive about your weight,” her mother said. “You’re so tall, and when you put on the pounds...”
“That. Comments like that. I want you to say nothing at all about size or weight. To me or to the girls. Or to Ryan, for that matter.”
“Nothing? That’s a little extreme.”
“Nothing. But even more important, I don’t want to hear any more remarks about a person’s ethnicity or financial status.”
“I don’t talk about those things!” her mother said indignantly. “And I don’t appreciate you making me feel like some sort of bad person. What kind of a way is that to treat your mother?”
“My children repeated some of what you said this morning to the Delgado family.”
“Oh, dear. Is that why they’re leaving?” Her mother looked down, but the corners of her mouth turned up just a little.
Until this moment, Fiona had never thought her mother’s negative comments had ill intent. She’d thought her remarks—the weight ones, at least—were a misguided way of trying to help.
But her smirk now made it seem like she’d been hoping the kids would repeat her stereotypes to the Delgados.
“You’re my mother,” she said evenly. “And you’re my children’s grandmother, and I know you love us. I hope you’ll stay for the rest of the weekend. But if you make one more remark that suggests that stereotyping and racism are okay, you’re going to need to leave.”
“Are you threatening your own mother?”
Fiona cocked her head to one side and studied the woman who’d raised her. She’d done so much for Fiona...and so much to Fiona as well. “I’m setting the conditions for you to be in my home, Mom,” she said, gentling her voice. “I can’t have toxicity here, harming me and my children. But if you’re willing to take the high road in your conversations with us, you are welcome to stay.” She blinked away the sudden tears that rose to her eyes. “I love you, Mom. I hope we can have a better relationship.”
“I just care about you! I’ve worked so hard to be slim all my life and you just don’t even... Do you know how long it’s been since I ate macaroni and cheese?”
Fiona swallowed the lump in her throat and shook her head.
“And if you cared about yourself, you wouldn’t go out with a Mexican!”
Anger heated Fiona’s face and made her breath come fast. “Out.”
“What?” Her mother’s voice rose an octave.
Dry-eyed, Fiona found her phone and looked for the number of Ralph Montour, a man in town who ran a car service. “Go get your things together,” she said to her mother while the phone was ringing.
“But...it’s Easter weekend.”
That gave Fiona a pang.
“Hello?” Ralph said.
“Would you be able to drive my mother to the airport?” she asked.
“Sure thing. Today?”
“Yes. Today.”
“My flight’s not until Monday!” her mother protested.
“I’ll call the airport and pay to get it changed.” She gave Ralph the address. “She’ll be ready in an hour.”
“Fiona!” Her mother’s voice rose into hysteria and tears came into her eyes. “You can’t do this to me! You’re all I have!”
Fiona drew in a breath. “I can’t have poison in my kids’ lives.”
“I’m sorry!” Her mother grabbed her hand. “Please. Don’t send me away.”
Looking at her mother’s hand—perfectly manicured, yes, and sporting several expensive rings, but still wrinkled and age-spotted—Fiona’s resolve faltered. Slowly, she pulled out a chair and sat back down, facing her mother, knee to knee. “Do you understand what it is I don’t want you to say? Or imply? To me, or the kids, or anyone else in Rescue River?”
Her mother’s chin shook and big tears stood in her eyes. “I understand.”
“Do you? Do you really understand that it’s what’s in a person’s heart that matters, rather than a dress size or a bank account?”
She nodded. “I...I suppose so. It’s just not...” She trailed off, then met Fiona’s eyes. “It’s not how I was raised, and it’s not how I’ve thought about things. Looks are important. Money is important.”
Fiona shook her head. “No, Mom. They’re not. And putting priority on those things will only lead to misery.”
Her mother stared at the ground, her throat working.
“And there’s more.”
Her mother took a tissue and wiped her eyes. “What more do you want from me?”
“I want a promise that you won’t comment about people from other ethnic backgrounds or races. Not to them, not to me and especially not to, or in front of, the kids.” She leaned forward to emphasize her point. “God made the world with all types of people in it, and our job is to love each other, not put each other down.”
Her mother nodded. “I know,” she said very quietly.
“I mean it, Mom. All kinds of people live in Rescue River. You’re going to see different skin colors and hear different languages, see different styles of dress. It’s not okay to disparage them. If you do, you’ll have to leave.”
“Fine.” Her mother let out a windy sigh.
Fiona’s indignation was fading. “I’ll call Ralph back and let him know you don’t need a ride. But I’ve got him on speed dial.”
“I understand.”
“Okay.” She knelt and gave her mother an awkward hug. “I’ve got one text I need to send, and then we’ll have some iced tea and help the kids decorate eggs.”
She went into the bathroom—the only place where she knew she could get a moment’s privacy—and sat down on the edge of the tub. She contemplated calling Eduardo, but she figured the damage had already been done. She couldn’t handle more confrontation, anyway. A woman only had so much strength.
She let her head fall into her hands. She didn’t know if she’d been right to nearly kick her mom out, to lecture her, or to let her stay. She didn’t know if there was any repair work that could be done with Eduardo. “Lord,” she prayed, “help me. Show me the right thing to do.”
A moment later, she heard loud voices in the kitchen—not angry, thankfully, just loud—and knew her alone time had come to an end.
She had to make a choice. Either she could cave in, be the weak woman she’d been in her marriage, or she could draw on the strength she’d gained from her community, her friends and her God.
She drew in a breath and typed a carefully worded text to Eduardo. Read it over and hit Send.
It probably wasn’t going to fix anything. Eduardo was still a man, and though she was starting to realize how different he was from her husband, she knew he still had a lot of pride.
She liked that
about him. He was proud of his heritage, proud of his work. Proud to be a strong man.
He was a strong father, too, and his decision to move out made sense. He had to protect his children and do what was best for them. They shouldn’t have been subjected to the words they’d heard today.
What she’d texted him was unlikely to change that. But at least she’d tried.
Chapter Fourteen
Eduardo was throwing toys and games into a big box when there was a knock at the door of the carriage house.
For a moment his heart leaped. Was it Fiona?
But no. He couldn’t hope for that. Because whatever she said, he couldn’t allow it to convince him to stay, to go back to her. Their differences were too great, the potential damage to his kids too real.
“Eduardo?” It was Dion’s deep voice. “Need to talk to you, my man.”
Eduardo shoved back the box, wiped his face on his sleeve and went to the door. “Come in. Kind of busy, though.”
Dion walked into the center of the living room, looked around at the boxes and the chaos, and whistled. “You’re serious about moving.”
He nodded. “Mind if I keep packing while we talk? You can grab a soda from the fridge.”
Dion slapped his back, hard. “I’ll get both of us sodas. You can take a fifteen-minute break and listen to what I have to say, can’t you?”
Eduardo didn’t want to. He didn’t want to lose momentum. He would rather not talk to anyone; just keep moving so he didn’t have to think.
But he respected the older man, so he nodded. “Sure. I’ll get the drinks.”
“Sit on the porch?”
Eduardo shook his head. “Better to stay inside.”
“Where are the kids?”
“They’re with Lou Ann Miller. I...I didn’t want them to see all this. They’re upset enough. But they’ll be back soon, so...”
“So hurry up and speak my piece? All right.” Dion kept looking out the window, though. And a moment later, Eduardo saw why when Sam Hinton knocked on the door.
Eduardo narrowed his eyes at Dion. “Was this planned?” he asked as he went to let Sam in.
“Get the man a beverage.”
A Family for Easter Page 17
