“See?” she said softly.
“Just because I don’t have a ready answer doesn’t mean there isn’t one.” He smiled. “Now shut up and kiss me good-bye. You’ve got a turkey waiting, and I told Susan I’d baby-sit Bobby while she and Allen did the cooking.”
What the hell—it was a kiss, not a commitment. She put her arms around his neck, fit her hips into his, and tilted her chin up to give him a kiss, intending it to be one they’d both remember.
But he refused to yield the lead and hesitated a moment when she came forward, looking deeply into her eyes. Slowly, with calm deliberation, he covered her mouth with his, coaxing hers open, touching her lips and then her teeth and finally her tongue with his own.
Involuntarily, she let out a low moan and drew closer still, her arms around his neck. She’d read about a kiss leaving a person shaken, but never experienced the effect. Now she was left wondering if her legs would hold her when she let go, if she could let go at all.
“I’ll see you in Solvang,” he said, his voice low and determined.
She could only nod.
“Wow . . .” Grace said softly. “Would you look at that. Big sister’s found herself a man who knows how to turn her on.”
“We shouldn’t be watching this,” Heather said, frustrated that her belly kept her from getting closer to the window.
“I’ll leave when you do.”
“She’ll kill us if she finds out.”
“Me maybe, but not you.” She fingered the curtain open a fraction of an inch farther. “What exactly do we know about this guy?”
Heather searched her memory for something she might have forgotten. She and Susan had talked about a dozen things that day on the phone. At the time Mark had been a footnote to a conversation about Karla visiting the day-care center. “He likes kids and animals.”
“He has a little girl and is a vet—what a surprise,” Grace said sarcastically.
Heather ignored her. “His ex-wife is a singer for a rock band, and—”
“Now that’s interesting. Which band?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, what’s her name?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“You’re useless. Go call Susan and tell her we want to know everything she knows about this guy.”
“Right now?” Heather asked. “She’s probably up to her armpits stuffing her own turkey.”
“We only have today to work on Karla—we need facts. We have to know whether we should be encouraging her or discouraging her about this guy.”
“You know it’s really none of our business who she goes out with.”
“The hell it isn’t. You want her hooked up with another Jim?”
“She’s not going to listen to us.” Heather didn’t know whether she was more afraid of Grace’s fury or Karla’s.
“Give me the number, I’ll call myself.”
“Wait . . . they’re coming back.” Heather dropped her corner of the curtain and stepped away from the window.
“Do you think she saw us?” Grace said, hurriedly picking up a spoon and giving the onion and celery mixture on the stove a quick stir.
“I don’t know.” Heather glanced at Grace and was hit with how ludicrous they looked in their effort to appear normal. “We’re acting just like we did on Karla’s prom night.”
Grace laughed. “Yeah, but this was a whole lot better. I could feel that kiss all the way in here.”
Heather felt the goose bumps on her arms. “Me, too. Bill’s in for a real surprise tonight.”
“Shhh, here she comes.”
The warning struck Heather as funny, making it seem even more like the nights they used to spy on Karla. She tried to keep from laughing, but the effort only fueled the need. She grabbed a dishtowel and put it over her mouth.
“Stop that,” Grace hissed and turned so that she couldn’t see Heather.
“I’m trying,” Heather barely managed to get out before she broke down again, muffling her laughter in the towel. Grace clamped her hand over her mouth but it didn’t help.
She and Heather managed to regain control by the time Karla saw Mark and Cindy off and returned to the kitchen.
Karla went back to work as if Mark had been an ordinary deliveryman, not worth mentioning. She dumped the crumbled cornbread into the bowl with the bread cubes, added chicken broth, and then the onion-and-celery mixture. The silence became impossible to ignore. A wooden spoon in one hand, the other on her hip, she looked from Heather to Grace and back again. “Whatever you’re thinking, keep it to yourselves.”
Grace put her hand to her chest, a wronged expression on her face. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”
Heather bit her lip, her eyes filled with laughter.
“Don’t start with me,” Karla warned.
Heather and Grace looked at each other. They exchanged a spontaneous high five. “It’s true,” Grace called out.
“Karla’s got a boyfriend,” Heather said in a singsong voice.
For an instant Karla was furious that they’d been watching her, and then she could think of nothing but getting even. Feigning a headache, she took two aspirin out of the bottle in the cupboard, picked up a glass, filled it with water, then with swiftness and accuracy, dumped half over Grace’s head and tossed the rest at Heather. “I’ve wanted to do that for years—ever since the first time I saw you two spying on me.”
Heather started to reach for a towel, but at the last second grabbed Karla in a bear hug, making sure she got as much water on her as possible. Grace joined in and hugged Karla from behind. She felt like the cream filling in a soggy cookie.
“What’s going on in here?” Bill asked. “Are you three okay?”
Karla looked at Heather as she put her hand over Grace’s on her shoulder. “We’re better than we’ve been in a long, long time.”
Jamie and Jason hopped up from the table and headed for the kitchen to see what was going on. Anna stayed where she was, holding a paper napkin ring closed as she waited for the glue to dry. She didn’t have to see what was happening—she knew. Given the circumstance and opportunity, Marie’s girls had found each other again. She couldn’t have asked for a better Thanksgiving.
“My work is about over, Marie,” she said softly. “It’s time you and your grandmother got started on that peanut butter fudge.”
Chapter
18
Oh, and remember the time Grandma left her purse on top of the car and it didn’t fall off until we got on the freeway?” Heather passed the bowl of mashed potatoes to Bill.
“And the highway patrol guy had to put out flares and stop traffic to get it back?” Grace added. “He wasn’t too happy about it, either.”
Anna chuckled. “Well, the way you girls were carrying on, who could blame him?”
Another memory Karla didn’t share, a tie that bound Heather and Grace and Anna that she had missed when she left for school and only returned for short visits. While she was gone, she’d imagined herself missed; instead they’d built a family unit without her.
Heather reached for Anna’s hand and gave it a gentle, loving squeeze, the gesture as natural and comfortable as if it were one of her children. There were no barriers to break down with Anna for Heather or Grace, no longing for another mother. That burden was Karla’s.
And Anna’s, Karla suddenly realized with startling clarity. Finally, everything that Anna had been trying to tell her the past five weeks made sense. She and Anna shared a bond that Anna had with no one else. The hurt, the longing, the loneliness for a woman gone almost a quarter of a century were theirs alone.
And when Anna was gone, it would be Karla’s. There would be no one left to remember the woman with the magical laugh and loving arms. No one who knew that Marie had once had a crush on Ricky Nelson and that she’d stuffed socks in her bra in eighth grade. Only Karla had seen her mother eat the carrots left out for the reindeer as she danced with her father on Christmas Eve, and only Karla truly
remembered the mother who had made them matching dresses and sung lullabies to daughters who could no longer recall the sound of her voice.
“Karla? Are you crying?” Heather asked.
“What?” She wiped her hands across her cheeks. “No, I was just thinking how Grandma used to burn the popcorn every time we went to the drive-in movie.”
“I did not,” Anna protested.
“Yes, you did,” Grace said.
“It must not have been burned too badly. You all ate it.”
“I’m ready for dessert,” Bill announced, leaning back and rubbing his stomach.
An anticipation she hadn’t expected came over Karla at the thought of having the focus on her pies. She glanced at Anna and saw that she understood. Karla started to get up.
“I made a surprise,” Heather announced, standing up first. “Well, I made one and found one.”
With fanfare suitable for a birthday party, Heather brought in the applesauce cake she’d made and put it in front of Anna. Bill followed with the stollen.
“My goodness, all of this for me?”
“Better tell her you remember the stollen the two of you had in San Francisco, or you’re going to break her heart,” Bill said.
“Of course I remember. It was at Christmas, a little bakery we found off Union Square.”
Heather beamed. “I have to admit, the cake was as much for me as you. I was digging through a bunch of your old recipes and happened across it a couple of weeks ago.”
Karla looked at the ring cake with only a sprinkle of powdered sugar for icing and knew exactly what it would taste like. It had been her mother’s favorite cake, one she rarely made because her father didn’t like nuts or raisins. “That was Mom’s favorite cake, too.”
Anna smiled. “Yes, it was. She asked for it every birthday. I gave her the recipe, but she swore that hers never tasted as good as mine.”
“I didn’t know that,” Heather said, as if she’d been left out of a secret.
“So what?” Grace said impatiently. “What possible difference does it make who loved what as long as someone is still making the cake? Now are you going to sit around talking about it all evening or are you going to cut the damn thing and let us find out for ourselves what’s so wonderful?”
Anna took the knife from Heather, cut a piece of cake, and passed it to Grace. “Don’t keep us waiting. We all want to know if you’ve inherited the Olsen women’s gene for applesauce cake.”
Grace took a bite. “It’s okay, but I’d really prefer a piece of that pumpkin pie Karla has been guarding since I got here.”
Karla could have kissed her. “I’ll get it for you.”
“I thought the line was—if I wanted it, I could get it for myself.”
“You made pies?” Heather said to Anna. “You were supposed to leave everything to us.”
“I didn’t make them, Karla did.”
“Karla? You’re kidding. This I have to see.” Heather followed Karla into the kitchen.
“Don’t worry,” Karla said. “They’re just pies. I’m not after your home economics crown.”
“My, my, aren’t we touchy. I was just surprised, that’s all. I know you don’t like to cook, let alone bake.”
“It’s not as if it were hard. Anyone can make a pie.”
“You bought them, didn’t you?”
Grace came up behind then and put an arm around each of their shoulders. “I believe in sibling rivalry, but over a pie? Why don’t you save it for something important—like which of us is the prettiest or who Grandma loves best.”
The fight abandoned Karla. “This is really embarrassing.”
“Do you think Grandma and Bill could hear us?”
“They’re too busy talking about who the Republicans are going to run for president to pay any attention to us,” Grace said.
Heather made a face. “Politics—ugh. I’m not sure I want to go back. Anyone for pie in the kitchen?”
“Homemade pie in the kitchen,” Karla said as she got them out of the refrigerator.
“I have to admit, they look pretty good for store-bought,” Heather said, looking over her shoulder.
“You know, I never understood the humor in pie throwing. Until now.”
Heather put up her hand to ward off the blow. “I’ll tell Grandma.”
Grace protested, “That’s my line.”
For the next five minutes they laughed and bumped and jostled and teased and became the grown-up family they’d never been. As much joy as the moment brought, the poignancy of knowing it would likely never happen again hung like a thick blanket of fog ready to envelop each of them. “We should do this again for Christmas,” Karla said surprising herself as much as her sisters.
“Only let’s do it at my house,” Heather said.
“No, it has to be here.” Anna’s house was a part of their history, the knot that held them together. If they were to become a real family again, the seeds had to be planted and nurtured here.
“I can’t,” Heather said. “My doctor won’t let me travel anymore after this.”
“That’s crazy,” Grace told her. “I have a lot of friends who’ve traveled right up to their due date. And a lot farther than between here and Salinas.”
“Unless there was something wrong in the pregnancy.” Karla studied Heather. “Is there?”
“After that little problem I had with Jason, my doctor is being cautious that’s all. He doesn’t want me going into labor anywhere but at home, where he can be at the delivery.”
Grace dumped the whipping cream into a bowl. “Then I don’t see the problem.”
Of the three of them, Karla had expected Grace would be the most difficult to convince, especially after the battle she’d had getting her to come for Thanksgiving.
“Grandma always comes to our house for Christmas. She loves watching the boys open their presents.”
“Well, far be it from me and Karla to mess up your little tradition.” Grace turned on the mixer, effectively ending the conversation and giving herself the last word.
Karla folded the dishtowel and hung it over the stove handle, then reached for a canister under the sink. “I’m going to feed the birds.”
Heather finished wiping the counter. “Wait a minute and I’ll go with you.”
Karla had come up with the idea because she needed a few minutes alone. The constant shifting from near-euphoria to battle between the three of them had finally worn her down. “You’ve hardly had any time with Anna. Why don’t you visit with her awhile?”
“Shouldn’t she be getting ready for bed soon?” Grace asked. “I thought she’d reached the point where she slept most of the time.”
Karla frowned. “What point is that?”
“I don’t know, I just remember reading somewhere that the worse her heart gets, the less energy she’ll have, and that eventually she’ll be spending more and more time in bed until she doesn’t get up anymore.” She worked the broom into a corner. “You went to one of her appointments, didn’t you?” she asked Karla. “What did the doctor say?”
Grace had tried too hard to sound casual when she should have sounded concerned. Karla wondered if it was bad acting or bad mental directing. “He’s encouraged by how well Anna is doing.” When that didn’t get a response, she added, “He said if she continues to take care of herself the way she has, there’s no reason she couldn’t live several more years.”
Grace wasn’t a good enough actor to hide the fact that the news upset her. What she didn’t reveal was why, and Karla couldn’t come up with an answer that made sense. “I’ll be outside if anyone needs me.”
She stopped to put on a jacket, the old one Anna kept in the front closet and saved for working in the yard. The sky was clear, the temperature crisp. She took a minute to look at the stars, spotted the Big and Little Dippers, but not the Milky Way she’d seen as a teenager from Anna’s backyard. During dinner Grace and Heather had talked about the campouts they’d had in the backyard, a
bout hearing coyotes during the night and waking to find a skunk eating one of their sandwiches. All Karla could do was listen. She’d always believed herself an important part of her sisters’ childhoods. During the past two days she’d learned that in her rush to get away from Anna, she’d left before the truly memorable times had occurred.
Karla opened the can and scooped the shelled sunflower seeds into the measuring cup, allocating a half cup to each feeder. The tube style she had to take down to fill; one required her to sit on the ground with the feeder balanced between her legs. She tried to imagine how Anna accomplished the task.
As she hung the feeder back on its hook, she looked up and saw Grace coming toward her.
“I need to talk to you,” she said, hugging herself against the cold.
“I’ll be through in a minute. I just have the one by the fence left to fill.”
Grace followed her across the yard. “I’m in trouble.”
Karla was stopped as much by the frightened tone she detected in Grace’s voice as her words. She put the can and feeder on the ground and gave Grace her full attention. “What kind of trouble?”
“I owe a lot of people a lot of money and I can’t put them off much longer.”
“I don’t understand. We just went over your bills a month ago and you were doing all right. At least well enough to buy a new car.”
“I didn’t show you everything. I knew it would upset you if you found out how much I really owe, and it didn’t seem necessary at the time.”
“Something’s changed since then, I take it?”
“I thought Grandma was a lot sicker than she is.”
It took a second for what Grace was telling her to sink in. When it did, Karla was so angry she had to shove her hands into her pockets to keep them still. “Precisely how much money were you counting on her leaving you?”
“I talked to a real-estate agent, and he told me the house should be worth a minimum of two hundred and fifty thousand, considering how much land goes with it. I don’t know for sure how much Mom and Dad left us, but there had to be life insurance policies, and that guy who hit them was rich, so there had to be a settlement there. As tight as Grandma has been with that money all these years, even if she’s only had it earning minimum interest, the way I figured it with the house and everything else divided three ways, we should each have around a hundred and fifty, maybe even two hundred thousand coming to us.”
Things Remembered Page 18
