“See you met Chet,” he says.
“That his name?” Mike asks. “I thought it was Asshole.”
The sheriff laughs. “No, that’d be his owner.” He gets closer, and standing next to Mike, he pulls out his gun and aims it at the dog. My heart races, and I stumble in my panic to get down the porch stairs. Fuck. He can’t kill the dog right here in broad daylight, can he?
I’m racing across the street when I hear the sheriff rumble, “You go on home, Chet, before I use this damn thing. Now.”
The dog stops growling and sits down, looking at the sheriff.
“You heard me,” the sheriff says, waving the gun around in a way that has me ready to hit the pavement on my belly so I can avoid stray bullets.
Then, lo and behold, the dog stands, turns tail, and trots back down the street the way he came.
Mike folds over, his hands on his knees as he breathes deeply a couple of times. I’m frozen in the middle of the street, the cop car a few feet away, lights still blinking off and on.
The sheriff holsters his gun and chuckles before he slaps Mike hard on the shoulder. “Good job, son,” he says. “Chet’s never hurt anyone yet, but he’s mean as an armadillo, and the only thing that works on him is a gun. Once he sees a pistol, he knows to back off. Old man Romine shot at him and winged his ear when he was a pup. He’s had a healthy fear of guns ever since.”
“Jesus!” Mike exclaims.
“You okay, boy?” the sheriff asks as he looks at me.
I clear my throat, my pulse still trying to recover a normal rhythm. “I think so, yeah.”
“Good. I have to go make sure Chet finds his way home. I’ll cite Romine for letting that beast run wild, too.”
“Thanks, sheriff,” Mike says, extending his hand.
The sheriff shakes Mike’s hand and then mine before he climbs back in his car and U-turns to head the direction Chet went.
“Thank God he didn’t shoot the damn dog,” I say, looking toward the house, wondering if Sean saw all of that. I hope not, it’d be pretty scary for a little dude.
“No shit,” Mike says. “Crazy-ass cop.”
We walk back to the house and up the porch steps.
“I’ve never seen you move that fast, bro,” Mike tells me as we step onto the landing. “I thought that kid was a goner.”
“Do you know whose kid that is?” I ask before I twist the doorknob.
“No. Should I?”
“It’s Marsha’s boy. Sean.”
“Wait.” Mike shakes his head like he’s trying to clear it. “Sean? That’s your middle name.”
“It sure is,” I answer as I step inside the house.
IT TAKES about five minutes to discover that Sean wandered off from the park across the street from the Bronco. When I walk into the bar with Sean’s little hand wrapped around mine, Marsha gets one look and freaks.
“Oh my God! Sean O’Neill, what are you doing?” She strides toward us and leans down, taking his cheeks between her palms.
I look at the concern on her face and wish I could do something to erase it.
Sean, who’s been really brave until now, bursts into tears, of course. In between his tearful confession that he left the park to follow a dog he saw walking around downtown and my describing what happened next, Marsha cuddles him and strokes his hair, speaking softly and rocking him on her lap. When the tale is done, she has tears in her eyes too.
She looks up at me and bites her bottom lip, trying to keep the waterworks at bay. Her baby blues are beautiful, and I resist the temptation to reach out and clear the moisture from her face.
“Thank you,” she mouths before planting a kiss on top of Sean’s head.
I ruffle Sean’s hair. It’s soft and silky, just like his mom’s.
“Hey, bud.” I crouch down in front of Marsha’s chair. “Everything’s okay now, isn’t it?”
He lifts his head, tears drying, and nods.
“That’s a big guy,” I tell him. “You were super brave. I’m proud of you.”
He smiles at me for the first time today.
“I want you to remember though, that you never ever leave someplace without Mom’s permission. It was a special treat to be trusted at the park by yourself. You have to live up to it, right?”
“Yes, sir,” he says in a small voice. Then he looks at his mom. “I promise I’ll never leave like that again.”
“Thank you, baby. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“So,” I ask Marsha as I stand. “Where does he usually go when you’re at work?”
“I have a sitter, but she can only work nights. I put him to bed and then she comes and watches TV and sleeps until I get home. I’m back long before he wakes up in the morning for school, so it works really well.”
“But you have to work today? It’s early—not even ten o’clock yet.” I know this isn’t any of my business, but since the first time I saw her, I’ve only ever wanted one thing—to help this beautiful woman who walks through her life so terribly alone. No matter how angry she made me, I always wanted to help her.
“Yeah, the dayshift girl is sick and Jimmy needed me to help with inventory too. I should have never let Sean go to the park alone. I thought that since it’s right across the street…” Her voice fades, and she swallows. “I’m really not a bad mother, I swear,” she tells me, her eyes big with regret.
“Of course you’re not,” I say, putting a hand on her arm. I see her flinch and I pull it back, the heat from her skin staying on me like a warm blanket. “But you’re a single mom who’s trying to juggle a lot. I’d like to help if you’ll let me. Can Sean spend the day with me?”
I wait, my breath held, trying to gauge what her reaction will be. Sean leans back and looks up at her. His little hands are absentmindedly playing with the bottom of her curls, and I wish I were allowed to run my fingers through the silky waves.
“Oh, I don’t think—”
“Please, Mom?” he asks.
I see her start to crumble, and decide to push harder. I need to know more about her, need to know the most important person in her life. I feel a connection to Sean that’s about more than just a shared name.
“Look, I was going to spend the day running some errands for Mrs. S. and doing a few odd jobs around the ranch. Mrs. S. and Leanne and Ronny will be with us almost the entire day. I can tell you exactly where we are any time you want. I’m thinking maybe some breakfast at the diner to start and then a trip to the Ace Hardware store to get Mrs. S. some new filters for her A/C unit. I’ll teach the little dude here some basic A/C maintenance, and I’ll bet Mrs. S. will cook us lunch. She makes a mean grilled cheese, I have to say.”
“Mom! Did you hear? We’ll be with Leanne and Ronny and Mrs. Stallworth. Do you remember when Mrs. Stallworth took care of me that one time when I was home sick from school? She likes me, I know she does!”
Marsha sighs heavily, looking from Sean to me. “Okay. Okay. I guess that’s fine.”
Sean cheers as he leaps off his mom’s lap. I high-five him, and Marsha rolls her eyes and laughs at both of us.
“You’ll bring him back if he gets to be too much trouble?” she asks.
“He won’t be,” I say seriously. “But of course. When is your shift over?”
“I’m working a double, so the sitter will come by tonight at six to pick him up and drive him home.”
“How about I bring him back at five, then we can all have some dinner before your sitter gets here?”
She nods, her arms wrapped around her middle. She’s still uncomfortable with this.
I ask for her phone, put my number in, then move away from Sean and lean toward her ear as I hand the phone back. Her breath hitches when I get close, and it makes my heart speed up.
“I promise I won’t let anything happen to him. No dangerous tools, no junk food. I swear. You trust me, don’t you?”
She pulls away from me, and hurt spills across her features. I know almost as soon as I say it that my
choice of words was poor. Trust is not something Marsha and I have a lot of for each other.
Her lips thin and her mouth tenses. “I trust that you’ll keep my son safe, Colin,” is all she says.
I nod, her words making my chest hurt with the implications. She doesn’t trust me, and I don’t trust her. At least, not with each other’s hearts. No matter what happens—no matter how long I hang around this tiny town, dancing with the possibilities left untold between Marsha and me—the fundamental fact remains: We hurt each other and the trust is gone.
Can you ever get something like that back? Because without it, Marsha will always be just another girl I used to date, instead of the one woman I want in my life forever.
Chapter Four
Marsha
I WATCH Colin Douglas walk out the door of the Bronco with my son’s hand in his and think I might break in two right here in the middle of the sawdust strewn floor. It’s as if everything I knew to be real and predictable in the world has been smashed to bits. Colin is here, Jeff is gone, and Sean is spending the day with the man I secretly always wished were his father. My heart is pumping hard and fast for some reason other than sheer terror for the first time since I was eighteen years old.
“Rock star taking the kid somewhere?” my boss, Jimmy, asks.
I continue wiping down the same section of countertop I’ve been working on for the last five minutes. “Yeah. He’s, uh, taking him out to Ronny and Leanne’s or something.”
“You good with that?” he asks.
“Oh yeah. Sean thinks the sun sets and rises with the Lush guys.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Jimmy grunts. “Are you good with it?”
I stop wiping the counter. “Why wouldn’t I be?” My pulse races—does Jimmy know something about Colin I don’t? Is he going to take my kid to watch porn or do drugs in front of him or something?
“I figured it might be a little awkward since you named the kid after him and all.”
I stare at him, speechless. “I didn’t… how did you…”
Jimmy chuckles and rescues me from my stuttering attempt at a denial. “I’ve watched you clean that same spot at least fifty times in the last few minutes, your face is the color of George Scrib’s fire truck, and I’ve read the guy’s bio on Wikipedia, so I know his middle name.”
“Maybe it’s a coincidence,” I argue halfheartedly.
Jimmy snorts. Actually snorts. “How long have I known you, little girl?” he asks.
I sigh. “Fine. I named my kid after him. How embarrassing is that? I never in a million years thought he’d find out.”
“Well, it beats the hell out of namin’ him after his old man. From what I’ve seen of the rock star, you did a good job choosing.”
If only Jimmy had any idea how twisted the equation of Colin, me, and baby naming is. I want to crawl in a hole and die every time I think about Colin realizing I named Sean after him. It makes me physically ill to imagine anything to do with Colin and babies. I wonder how often he thinks about it—what happened—I also wonder if he might ever be able to think about it from my perspective, because he sure as hell couldn’t at the time.
I rub the counter down harder, that familiar old anger and hurt growing inside me. I stop, suck in a deep breath, and try to tamp it down, the image of his face when I told him still in my mind.
“You don’t have to worry about it anymore,” I said as we sat on a picnic table at the park down the street from our high school. It was spring and the air was already too warm and too humid.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “What happened?”
“I’m taking care of it,” I said, trying to maintain a firm expression so I wouldn’t break down in his arms like I wanted to.
He went perfectly still, his breathing freezing along with his body. “I don’t understand…”
“Yes you do,” I whispered. “You know exactly what I’m saying, Colin.”
He shook his head. “No, because you would have talked to me before you decided something like that. We’re in this together. We agreed to that, Marsha.” He faced me, and all at once, I saw desolation. Destruction on the face of the seventeen-year-old boy I loved.
“Colin—” I pleaded.
“No.” He shook his head even more emphatically. “You would not have decided something like that without talking to me first, Marsha. There’s no way.”
I swallowed. “You need to understand,” I said, my voice rising. “She would never forgive me, not ever. I can’t lose her. She’s the only family I have.”
“Fuck that!” he shouted at me before roughly rubbing his hands over his face. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” He lowered the volume of his voice when I cringed.
I’d never heard Colin raise his voice to anyone. My stomach sank inside of me.
He continued. “I told you I was in this with you all the way. How can you not believe I’ll do whatever is necessary to make sure you’re taken care of? How can you not trust me? I’m your family. I love you.” He sounded rough and hurt. Like he’d cried for days and this hoarse shadow was all that was left of his voice.
“She would throw me out. She would hate me. I’ll have nothing, absolutely nothing.”
“You’ll have me! What can you not understand about that? My parents will help us. There are all sorts of ways to handle something like this. But now you’re saying that you picked one without even discussing it with me.”
The warm night air was stifling by that point. My lungs were straining to absorb enough oxygen to keep coherent. My stomach churned, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t believe the mantra I kept repeating in my head—it’ll be okay, it’ll be okay.
“I love you, Colin.”
“Then why? Why won’t you include me? It’s mine too,” he said in a whisper.
I knew then that no matter how many times I explained it to him, Colin would never understand. He came from a family where there was complete openness and support. He would never understand the fear that had suffused me when I’d found out. He would never understand that all my love and trust weren’t enough to overcome the terror that my mother would finally reject me completely. I’d spent my entire life hanging on to whatever tenuous thread of love and approval I could pull from her. I wasn’t about to give that up without a fight. It would have made the first eighteen years of my life pointless.
No, with my mother’s love—however meager—on the line, I had to make the whole thing go away. I didn’t decide it to hurt Colin, I wanted to make the fear, the sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach—the nightmare I couldn’t wake up from—disappear.
I wanted to pretend that it had never happened.
The next few weeks showed me that wasn’t actually possible, and as hard as I tried to run from the consequences, I couldn’t. By the end of the school year I was alone, just as I’d feared—abandoned by my mother, homeless, and scared as hell. The only difference was I had no Colin either.
“LITTLE DUDE, check this out!” Colin shouts as he and Sean enter the bar. He strides to the antique jukebox in the corner and runs his finger down the list of songs available.
Sean skips behind him, laughing.
“See? Right here!” Colin gives Sean a look of triumph as he points to one of the songs on the display.
“I don’t know that many letters all together,” Sean says, scowling at the screen.
“Okay, we’ll read it together. Do you know that word there? O-N-E.”
“Yeah! One!”
“Great job. Now, ‘one-eyed, one-horned…’”
“I know the next one.” Sean bounces up and down. “Flying! ’Cause I know ‘fly’ and I know the I-N-G sound too.”
Colin high-fives him as they continue bending over the jukebox, completely unaware that I’m watching them.
“And this next one is a color…”
They sound out ‘purple’ together and then finish with, “People eater.”
“Ha!” Colin shouts t
riumphantly. “You owe me a french fry, little dude. You dared to doubt the master.”
Sean scowls before breaking out into full-blown laughter. “That’s the dumbest name for a song I’ve ever heard. Why would anyone name a song the ‘One-eyed, one-horned, flying, purple people-eater?”
“I have no idea,” Colin answers, ruffling Sean’s hair. “But that’s the great thing about creating stuff. They’re your things and you can make them whatever you want. When you create something like a song or a painting or a story, you make it what you want. If some people think it’s dumb, then that’s okay. There will always be other people who love it. That’s what they mean when they say ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder.’ Not everyone will love one-eyed, one-horned, flying, purple people-eaters, but if you created it and you love it, then that’s what matters.”
“Well, it looks like you two had a fun day,” I say in my most cheerful voice as I approach them.
“Mom!” Sean runs at me and throws his small arms around my hips. “We had so much fun. You wouldn’t believe what Colin showed me how to do…” And with that, he’s off, talking a mile a minute while Colin looks on, chuckling and occasionally adding some clarification—they only used the power drill without the bit; the horse is named Diablo, but he’s twenty-five years-old and blind in one eye; and Sean wore a helmet on the ATV and they didn’t go over fifteen miles per hour. By the time Sean is done, I’m not sure if I should feed him dinner or put him straight to bed. He has to be wiped out.
“I am so glad you had such fun, pumpkin,” I tell him when he finally pauses to catch a breath. “You must be hungry.”
“Mrs. S. gave me lunch and then Leanne baked muffins for snack and Colin let me taste his coffee too.”
I raise an eyebrow at Colin, who purses his lips while trying not to laugh.
“It was disgusting,” Sean clarifies.
“Well, I think Jimmy has your dinner ready in the kitchen. Why don’t you go check?”
“Okay.” He looks to Colin. “Can I come hang out with you tomorrow too?”
“I bet your mom has the day off, little dude, and she’d like to see you.”
A Lush Reunion Page 4
