The Taste of Air

by Gail Cleare

“Huh? Where are you going, then? Somewhere boring for work? Is Dad going too?” Heather grinned, and Bridget guessed she was already planning the huge, illicit party she would have the next day, when she hoped to have the whole house to herself.

  “No, I’m going alone. And I’m not coming back. Not to the house.”

  “Why? What do you mean?” Starting to suspect the truth, Heather raised her eyebrows in surprise.

  “I’m leaving your father, Heather.”

  “No,” Heather shouted, reaching out to clutch Bridget’s hand. “No, you can’t do that.”

  “Why? Why do you care?”

  “You can’t leave me… alone with him. You just can’t.” The girl seemed to panic, tears welling up in her eyes.

  “Why not, honey? He’s your dad. He’ll take good care of you.” Surprised at Heather’s reaction, Bridget patted her hand.

  “No he won’t, no he won’t.” Heather sobbed, the tears running freely down her face. “He doesn’t care about me. He never really wanted me, either. It was just to get back at Mom. And she let him do it.” She peered at Bridget through her tears, her lips turned down in a trembling mask of despair. “Nobody wants me. You don’t, either.”

  “Sweetie, it always felt like the other way around to me.”

  Heather swallowed and looked at Bridget with a flash of guilt in her eyes. “No, I always thought… um… you were cool. You have all those great clothes and all and a great job. You’re, like, a really good person.” Heather looked down and picked at a loose thread on her plaid skirt.

  Bridget smiled, recognizing that the master tale spinner was at work, though there did seem to be a seed of truth in what the girl was saying.

  “Heather, I’m leaving Eric, not you. There are some problems I can’t talk about right now… they’re just between him and me. Do you understand?”

  Heather nodded her head though her face was still pouty. She had stopped crying and wiped her cheeks with her hand. With her red nose and puffy eyes, she looked younger somehow, more innocent. She chewed on her lower lip.

  “But I can’t live there alone with Daddy. He’s never home. Who will take me shopping and do the school stuff?”

  “I’ll be back in town after a few weeks, and we’ll work something out. Maybe your mom will help. Don’t worry about it. I promise everything will be okay.”

  “I guess. Whatever.” Heather frowned at her, not convinced.

  “And for now, what if you go to stay with one of your friends for a few days? Don’t you think Julie or Grayson would invite you over? Their mothers are always glad to have you.”

  Heather started to perk up, tempted by the prospect of a fun time with her girlfriends. “Yeah, I guess that would work.”

  “Check in with your dad about setting that up. He’s in charge. I’m sure he’ll say it’s okay. You have my cell number. We’ll keep in touch, right? You can call me anytime, day or night.”

  “Okay.” Heather gave her a genuine smile. “Well, I’d better go now. Thanks, Bridget. You really are, you know, what I said… a good person.” She opened the car door to get out.

  “Why, thanks, honey,” Bridget said, surprised.

  “You would have been a good mom,” Heather said as an afterthought. She slammed the car door behind her and ran across the street to join her friends.

  Bridget’s face crumpled into a grimace of sadness. She quickly put the sunglasses back on, her hand shaking.

  A good mother. Yes, she could have been. If only she could time travel and change her decision. If only things had been different.

  It might be too late to rewrite the past, but maybe she was just in time to change the future.

  Chapter 13

  Mary ~ 1992

  Mary’s new neighbor drove down the road next to the lake in his blue truck, creeping along as the furniture, piled high in the back, rattled. His business name was painted on the driver’s door: Jacob Bascomb, Antiques. She considered running out to flag him down, but she was pinned between the door frame and the mattress, so she just waved instead. Wearing little pink shorts and a halter top, she must have looked as if the mattress could easily crush her. She wriggled helplessly to encourage the impression. Playing the damsel in distress had always worked for her back in the day.

  It worked again.

  The man pulled over and stopped. “Need some help, sweet thing?”

  “Oh brother, do I.” She looked back over her shoulder and gave him a wide smile.

  Getting out of the truck to walk across the lawn, he stroked his thick moustache as he surveyed the situation, unsuccessfully trying to hide the grin behind his hand.

  “Get ready.” He took hold of the mattress to pull, popping it and Mary out of the doorway. She tumbled halfway down the front steps and caught herself against the railing. He burst out laughing.

  “Why don’t you go on ahead?” He pointed, picking up the mattress by the side strap with the other hand as though lifting a suitcase. He carried it easily into the empty living room while Mary held the screen door open.

  “Oh.” She stared up at the long length of him. “That was simple. For you, that is.”

  “Where do you want it?” He looked down at her, and a wave of heat rose from her chest and neck into her cheeks. She suddenly felt underdressed.

  “Upstairs, the back bedroom please.” She backed away a few steps. “Thank you so much.”

  Mary pulled on a cotton sweater, and when he returned, she was buttoned up and sitting on the front steps with two cold beers. She handed one to him and pointed at the truck, where an armchair was balanced on top of the pile.

  “That wouldn’t be for sale, would it? Looks like a good chair. I could use it.”

  “It’s all for sale. What do you need?”

  “Pretty much everything. I only brought my clothes, some kitchen stuff, and the bed.”

  “Will your husband be coming along with a moving van?” He glanced at the wedding ring that was still on her finger.

  “No,” Mary answered calmly. “He won’t.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “Okay.” He took a breath and smiled. “Pick whatever you want. There’s a nice kitchen table, too, and a chest of drawers.”

  “How much do you want for all of it?” When he told her, she laughed, getting her purse to write him a check from her new personal account. “A bargain.” Mary placed it into his outstretched hand, which was double the size of hers. “It must be my lucky day.” She gave him her most dazzling smile.

  “Nope, it’s ours.” He glanced at the check. “Welcome to the neighborhood, Mary Ellen Reilly. Ginnie and Adam and I’d be pleased if you came over for dinner tonight.”

  “Well, I’d be delighted. Can’t contribute much to the meal, though. Haven’t gone shopping yet.”

  He gestured toward the truck. “I’ll bring this stuff inside if you tell me where to put it.”

  She hadn’t been flirting with him before, not really. It was just friendly conversation—he must know that. They would be good neighbors. The lake was the right place for her at this moment in her life. Both girls were off to college. No reason to keep up the act. In a couple of weeks, she’d call and invite them up. Then they’d talk as three adult women. The girls would understand when they heard the whole story. And what a relief it would be to come clean about everything without fear of Thomas’s reaction. First, she just had to finish setting up and get the last of her things from home.

  Mary watched her new neighbor unloading the truck. He carried all the furniture into the empty cottage, barely breaking a sweat. A kitchen table and chairs, a loveseat and armchair for the living room, a bedside table for upstairs—all of it was hers and hers alone. Freedom, for a change. My own place, where I can be whoever I want to be.

  “Thank
s very much! Lucky you were passing by,” she called, waving farewell.

  He cranked the ignition and turned, smiling. “I’ll tell Ginnie to call you with dinner details.” The truck drove down the street, turning left at the corner by the town beach.

  Mary leaned out the front doorway, watching a sunset reflecting off the lake, bright rays of inspiration shooting into a pink sky. For the first time in many years, she felt a hint of real happiness.

  Chapter 14

  Nell ~ 2014

  Nell sat with her mother until Mary fell asleep again, then she asked the nurse for directions to the address listed on Adam Bascomb’s business card.

  A couple of blocks from the town green stood a huge old barn with a carved wooden sign out front. “J. Bascomb & Son Antiques.” Pulling into the driveway, she saw a truck parked inside the double doors. It was filled with a dining table and chairs, and the tailgate was down.

  Shrill barking echoed inside the barn, and Winston came racing out. He went crazy with wriggles and yips of joy when he realized it was Nell. She patted him, and he flipped over, offering his belly.

  “You’ve sure got him charmed, don’t you?” Adam’s voice came from overhead, where the door to the barn’s hayloft was hooked open. Nell looked up and saw him watching her.

  He smiled, and she felt a little flash go off in her brain, a sense of déjà vu.

  “Hi,” she said, unable to remember for a second what she was doing there.

  “Hi. Be right down.” Adam hesitated for a second, looking at her as though he might have something more to add, but then he pulled back and disappeared inside.

  Nell shook her head and took a deep breath. What had just happened? She remembered she had come to confront him and tried to pull herself together. When he walked out of the barn, smoothing down his hair with one hand, she fixed a stern expression on her face.

  “Something wrong?” Adam’s grin disappeared. “Is Ellie doing okay?”

  “She’s fine. No thanks to you, Cousin Adam.” Nell tapped her foot and waited, glaring at him.

  “Um… what do you mean?” He avoided her eyes.

  “You know, as in, my supposed cousin who’s been checking Mom out of Maplewood and giving her rides back and forth to Vermont for… how long, Adam? How long is it now?” As she spoke, Nell moved toward him, invading his personal space.

  He winced and pulled away, his eyes wide. “Well, it’s been a few years now, but… Nell, she wanted me to, she begged me. She said you and Bridget didn’t want her driving anymore and you’d be glad I was keeping her safe. Shit. Don’t hate me. I’m sorry.” Adam looked at her with concern. “I love your mother. I’d never do anything to hurt her, truly.”

  “Yeah, we did make her give up her license.” Nell’s anger deflated, and her shoulders slumped. “We thought she sold the car.”

  “She drove it up here that one last time and switched the registration to Vermont. After that, she had me drive it down to Maplewood to pick her up. I brought her back there again when she was ready to go.” He put his hand on Nell’s arm, and her skin tingled. “I always take good care of her, Nell. It’s not my fault she got sick, you know.”

  “Yes.” Nell’s anger was softening. “I hear we can thank somebody else named Bascomb for that, right?” Without thinking, she leaned toward him. Adam seemed like such a nice guy. He had really just been trying to help Mom out, doing her a neighborly favor?

  “I wasn’t around, but there was some kind of accident out in the sailboat, and my dad feels… just awful about it,” he mumbled. “Especially after what happened when… um… my mother…”

  “Your mother?” Nell saw the pain flash across his face. They stood in the barn doorway with the little dog sitting at their feet, staring up with his head cocked.

  “Mom fell overboard when Dad was at the tiller too. The boom hit her in the head. She… died.” Adam spoke quietly. His face had turned pale, solemn.

  Concern swelled inside Nell. She almost reached out to stroke his hair as she would have with her husband or kids, then she realized what was happening and stepped back.

  “I’m so sorry.” She stuffed her hand into her pocket. “That must have been awful for all of you.”

  “Yeah. It was worst for my dad. But Ellie helped him through it.”

  “She seems very fond of both of you.”

  “They were best friends, you know. Your mom and mine.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Virginia. Ginnie for short.”

  “Ginnie.” Nell had finally learned the name of the smiling woman in all the photos of Mom and Jake. Mom’s best friend. Who Nell had never met and never would. The woman Jake Bascomb had said he killed, because of… what had he called it? His “stubborn pride.”

  “And what about you?” Adam said. “You have a husband somewhere, right? Family?”

  “Happily married, great husband, great kids.”

  “Thought so.” He smiled his approval. “I bet you’re a wonderful mom.”

  “You? Wife, kids?”

  “Nope. Divorced. Got my own little place in town.” Something in his eyes closed like shutters. She wondered what the story of Adam’s life was.

  Nell realized she didn’t care as much about his part in Mom’s secret getaways. She had noticed a sense of kindred spirit as they talked. She’d been handling all this strange craziness alone, and he seemed so kind. Maybe his friendship could help her face the situation with more courage.

  “I’d better get back to the hospital.” Nell took a few reluctant steps toward her car.

  He nodded, but his eyes held hers. “Okay, I’ll drop off Winston at your house later. See you then.”

  Backing away, she nearly stumbled over a little rock in the driveway as she tried to work out why he looked familiar. Maybe she’d seen him in the pictures at Mom’s house. That must be it.

  Nell got into her car and started it, pulling away with a wave.

  She glanced in the rearview mirror when she stopped at the corner to turn. He was still standing, motionless, watching her go.

  That afternoon, Mom seemed a little better. There was some color in her cheeks, and her eyes had a touch of their old vitality. When the doctor came by to examine her, he seemed encouraged and told Nell they might consider weaning her mother off the respirator the next day.

  Nell was dying to ask her mother a million questions, but she held off patiently and let Mom rest. When her mother could actually speak, it would be easier to learn all the details.

  Nell read aloud for a while, and they watched talk shows together. Mom snoozed during the commercials. Nell sent David and Bridget a group text message, giving them the street address of the cottage and a summary of Mom’s medical condition. As the afternoon waned, she thought about what had happened at the antiques barn. It had been so bizarre. Sort of like being hypnotized. She’d almost reached out and touched his hair. They’d never even met before that morning, yet he seemed so familiar. David would have an absolute fit.

  Except David didn’t know anything about it. He didn’t know about Mom’s cottage or that any of these people even existed. Strange how that had worked out by accident. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to him for more than a second. The cell reception up in the mountains was terrible, and they were playing phone tag. It was too long a story to text, so it would have to wait until they connected.

  She frowned, realizing that David had never called her back that morning after they spoke while he was on the train. Walking outside the ICU to use her phone, she saw there were several missed calls. There was only one bar on the service indicator, and when she dialed her voicemail, the messages sounded fuzzy until she went over and stood by the window. She had a brief message David had left as he walked from the train station to the office, and a more recent one from Bridget.
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  Bridget’s voice sounded anxious. “Hey, baby sister. Just checking in. Hope things are going better up there than they are down here. Call me.”

  Nell went outside to the hospital parking lot to try for better reception. First, she called home and spoke to the housekeeper, who confirmed everything was going smoothly and the kids were still at their after-school activities. Then she dialed her sister’s mobile phone.

  Bridget answered on the first ring. “Hi, Nell, sweetie pie, how are you? How’s Mom?”

  “Fine. Mom’s a little better. Got your message. What did you mean about things not going well?”

  Bridget’s voice faded in and out as though she was driving. There were voices in the background, like a radio playing. “I did it again, sugar. I picked the wrong guy. Amazing, isn’t it?”

  “Oh no,” Nell moaned, biting her lip. Not again. She rolled her eyes and prepared for the mandatory comfort-Bridget’s-broken-heart routine. “You poor thing. What happened? And where are you?”

  “On my way to the airport. He hurt me, Nell. A little too much. Last night.”

  Nell’s stomach clenched, and she gasped. She had no experience with that kind of abuse, but for her, that would be a deal breaker too. Her mocking attitude evaporated.

  “Plus, he’s been stealing my money.” Bridget’s tone hardened. “I’ve actually known about that for a little while, but I hadn’t decided what to do.”

  Nell had thought they’d been through Bridget’s breakups so many times before there could be no surprises left. Yet there she was, feeling sorry for Bridget and wanting to protect her as usual.

  “You should get away from him,” Nell blurted. “You should come here and stay for a good long while. There’s plenty of room. It’s the perfect hideout. Tell him you’re visiting Mom, but don’t tell him where you’re going.”

  “Okay.” Bridget sounded relieved. “Where am I going?”