Days Like This

by Laurie Breton

  Besides, Sandy wasn’t the only girl he’d been involved with. When their off-and-on relationship had been in on mode, they were monogamous, but during their off periods, there had been other girls. He was a young guy, and he’d done what young guys do: whored around, just because he could. But he hadn’t been stupid. He’d always practiced safe sex. It hadn’t occurred to him that there might be consequences, until now, at the advanced age of thirty-seven. Paige might not even be his only offspring. In spite of the precautions he’d taken, there could be other kids out there carrying his DNA. After all, he and Sandy had been careful, and look how that had turned out.

  The thought was terrifying. He supposed there came a time in every man’s life when his past came back to bite him on the ass. His personal Day of Reckoning. If so, Rob MacKenzie had just met up with his. Nothing could slam reality home to a man more quickly than the knowledge that he’d fathered a child. Or the understanding that there could be others. All those years, he’d thought he was being so careful, but the teenage girl running beside him was living proof that at least once, he hadn’t been as careful as he’d thought.

  And then, there was the whole mortality issue. This wasn’t the first time that knowledge of his own mortality had stared him in the eyeballs. For most of his life, time had been of little consequence. He’d simply lived from one day to the next, blissfully unaware of the passage of the years. Until Danny died, and he found himself lost, rudderless, acutely and painfully aware that he was well past thirty and his life was going nowhere.

  It had been Casey who saved him. He didn’t believe she even knew that he’d been hanging on by his fingernails and about to go splat on the pavement. It was her friendship, her love, her warmth and tenderness, that had pulled him back from the edge. By that time, he was in love with her, fully and desperately. But he understood that if he pushed, he might lose her. So for the first time in his life, he familiarized himself with two utter strangers: patience and celibacy. For nearly two years, he’d led a solitary and celibate existence while he waited for his best friend’s widow to come to the same conclusion he’d already reached: that they were meant to be together.

  “So,” Paige said, dragging him back to the present, “why’d you desert us?”

  He realized they’d been running for some time, had actually picked up speed, yet she hadn’t lagged, didn’t seem tired or winded, hadn’t even broken a sweat. He was beginning to get the distinct impression that he’d been hustled. “I don’t know how many ways I can say this, but I didn’t desert you. I never knew you existed.” He quickened his pace, lengthened his stride, watched as she effortlessly adjusted hers to match his. “I thought you weren’t a runner.”

  “I never said I wasn’t a runner. Are you calling my mom a liar?”

  “You might not have said it, but you clearly implied that you weren’t into running. And let’s just say that your mother’s interpretation of the situation differs from mine.”

  “My mom was a saint. And I didn’t imply anything. You chose to believe what you wanted to believe.”

  “As did you.”

  “I happen to believe what she told me. Why would she have any reason to lie?”

  “You tell me. You sure as hell knew her better than I did.”

  “I run on Carson Beach at low tide. Three times a week. And she said you left because you didn’t want the responsibility of a kid.”

  “That’s not a safe place for a young girl to run alone. And what your mother said is utter bullshit.”

  “I’m not stupid. I carry pepper spray. It’s a moot point now anyway, since I’m a world away from Carson Beach. And you are calling her a liar.”

  “My leaving had nothing to do with you. I moved to Manhattan with Casey and Danny to further my career. Your mother never told me she was pregnant.”

  “And if she had, would you have stayed?”

  He hesitated for just an instant too long. Paige snorted. “Right. That’s about what I thought.”

  Casey

  She was watering her flower garden when they came back from their run. Casey leaned back on her heels, set the hose to mist, and watched them approach. Father and daughter, two long, lean bodies, so alike it was scary. They separated, walked up the driveway individually, Paige a half-dozen paces ahead of her father. She passed Casey without acknowledging her, flounced up the steps and into the shed, and slammed the kitchen door. A moment later, M.C. Hammer began rapping in glorious, vibrant stereo.

  Rob approached more slowly, looking tired and defeated. He glanced at her, shook his head, and kept walking.

  Oh, boy.

  She gave him his space, finished watering the garden, came back inside and started her morning household chores, gradually working her way from the kitchen to the upstairs bathroom. Picked up his wet towel from the bathroom floor and hung it over the shower rod, made their bed, opened the blinds to allow morning light to spill in. Then she went back downstairs and heated a pot of water. She prepared two cups of Earl Grey and, teacups in hand, went outside in search of her husband.

  She found him exactly where she’d expected, on the porch swing, his favorite spot. Slumped on his tailbone, his hair damp from the shower and his long legs stretched out, bony ankles propped on the porch railing, he swung listlessly in the sweet morning air.

  She sat down carefully beside him, handed him a steaming cup of Earl, kept the other for herself. “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey.” He balanced the cup against his thigh, dangerously close to an area where no man wanted to be scalded. “Thanks.”

  She waited with bated breath until he raised the cup. “You okay?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  “What happened?”

  “She was right. That’s what happened.”

  “About?”

  “She asked me if I would’ve stayed in Boston if I’d known Sandy was pregnant. I couldn’t tell her yes. Because it would have been a lie.” Troubled green eyes sought hers. “What kind of hypocrite does that make me?”

  She rested a hand on his thigh, smoothed worn denim with gentle fingertips. “There is not a hypocritical bone in your body, MacKenzie.”

  “That first time we talked on the phone, I told her that if I’d known about her, I would’ve been there from the beginning. But it’s not really true. There’s no way I would have stayed in Boston. You and I and Danny—we had places to go, things to do, people to see. I had a budding career as a musician, and that took precedence over everything. Every. Damn. Thing. Oh, I wouldn’t have left the two of ‘em high and dry, but I would have been a long-distance dad. I would’ve sent money whenever I could, but think about how poor we were. Pretty soon, the money would’ve stopped, too. Let’s face it. I would’ve been a shitty father, no matter what.”

  “Come on, Rob. You were twenty-two years old. Just a kid. You weren’t ready to be anybody’s father. Not financially, not emotionally.”

  He let out a soft, cynical laugh. “Hell, I’m not sure I’m ready yet.”

  “And don’t you think maybe Sandy knew that? And that’s why she never told you? She knew you well enough to understand that you would have tried, and failed. And failing would have broken your heart, and Paige’s. Because you would have loved that little baby to distraction. You just wouldn’t have known how to be a father to her. Sandy probably believed her daughter would be better off with no father than she would be losing one she’d come to love. So she protected Paige, by keeping the truth from both of you. And her heart was the only one broken.”

  Somber green eyes studied her over the rim of his teacup. “Maybe,” he said.

  “I’ve been a mother. I understand sacrifice. And heartbreak.”

  He reached out, touched a strand of her hair. “Yeah,” he said. “You do.”

  “It’ll be okay. Just give her some time.”

  He was quiet for a while, considering. Finally said, “But how do I make it up to her? Fifteen years of not being there for her? I don’t know what I
should do.”

  “There’s nothing you can do. You can’t make it up to her. It’s too late for that. Those fifteen years are lost. You can only move on from here.”

  He let out a long, poignant sigh. Said, “Ah, shit.”

  She leaned back, propped her bare feet on his legs, and rested her cheek against his shoulder. Studying the row of pink roses that ran along the rim of her teacup, she said, “Will this be us in fifty years? Sitting on the porch swing with our walkers and our hearing aids, drinking Earl Grey and talking about our glory days?”

  “Would that be such a bad thing?”

  “Are you kidding, MacKenzie? I would be honored to still be drinking Earl Grey with you fifty years down the road.”

  “This is why I married you. All that wisdom you’re so good at dispensing. You always seem to have the answer to my problems. And it’s a definite plus that I don’t have to pay a shrink three hundred bucks an hour, since you dispense advice for free.”

  “I’m flattered. Even though you make me sound like a vending machine.”

  “You should be flattered. I meant it in only the most positive of ways.”

  “And here I thought it was my drop-dead-gorgeous legs that attracted you to me.”

  “That, too. But it was mostly the wisdom. Hey, I’m sorry I stood you up in favor of the kid.”

  “You didn’t stand me up. We can run together any time. I think it’s important for you to spend time with her. Even if said time is spent arguing. You’re building a relationship. It may be a prickly one, but at least it’s a starting point.”

  He lifted his arm. She scooted under it and lay her head against his chest. He wrapped the arm loosely around her shoulders. “What’d I ever do to deserve somebody like you?”

  “Two-way road, my friend. Two-way road.”

  Paige

  “Excuse the mess,” Luke said, tossing his amplifier cord into the back seat to make room for her. Doing her best to avoid the empty soda cans and fast food wrappers that littered the floor of the rattletrap old car, Paige climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door.

  “Nice ride,” she said, settling in and fumbling with the seatbelt.

  “Hey, I inherited it from my mom, okay? It was free. Free makes everything better. Even dings and dents and rusty fenders.”

  He had a point. She glanced into the back seat, where his guitar case lay atop a pile of wrinkled clothes. “Dude, if you want to impress chicks, you might want to consider excavating this deathtrap. Chicks dig clean, you know.”

  “Thanks for the advice.” Her cousin adjusted his sunglasses, shifted the car into gear, and backed down the driveway.

  “No offense meant. I’m just saying.”

  “None taken.” He looked both ways, checked his mirrors, backed out into the road, and headed for town.

  “So where is practice?”

  “My friend Tobey’s place. On the River Road, out on the other side of town. We practice in his garage.”

  “And your band mates know I’m coming?”

  “Yeah. They’re cool with it.”

  “So, in other news…I was right.”

  “About what?” Luke tapped the steering wheel in a rapid, rhythmic motion.

  “About him,” she said. “My old man. He’s just as much of a dick as I always knew he was.”

  He glanced at her from behind mirrored sunglasses. “What happened?”

  She folded her arms and said, “He as much as admitted to me that he never wanted me.”

  Luke thought about it for a while. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

  “Yeah, well.” She shrugged and glanced out the side window at the lovely view of trees, trees, and more trees.

  “What, exactly, did he say?”

  “He said that if he’d known my mom was pregnant, he would’ve moved to New York anyway.”

  “Wow. That’s harsh.”

  Bleakly, she said, “I don’t think he ever loved her.”

  “You can’t know that. You weren’t there. Life isn’t black and white. There are shades of gray. An infinite number.”

  “You just say that because you have this twisted hero worship thing going on with him.”

  Luke shrugged. “Maybe. I just think you should reserve judgment until you’ve had time to get to know him.”

  “What’s there to know? He’s a big jerk. End of story.”

  “Your opinion,” her cousin said. “Not mine.”

  “I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree, then, because you’re not changing my mind.” She was silent for a time. Then she said, “Where’s Mikey today?”

  He eyed her long enough to send a flush across her cheeks. “Is that the way the wind’s blowing?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Of course you don’t. I bet you never even noticed that face of his. Let me give you a word of advice. Don’t even bother to go there. My stepbrother has so many girls chasing after him that his head’s spinning. The last thing he needs is another one.”

  “Jesus, Luke, all I did was ask a question. Don’t build a federal case out of it.”

  “Besides, he’s your cousin.”

  “Step-cousin.”

  “I thought we were hanging today because we’re friends, not because you have the hots for my stepbrother.”

  “Oh, for the love of God. We are friends!”

  He studied her a moment longer. Then said, “He’s at football practice.”

  She wrinkled her forehead. “Football practice? But school doesn’t start until next week.”

  “What planet did you come from? The first game is a week from Saturday. The team has to be ready. They practice for three hours every weekday morning for the entire month of August.”

  “In this heat?”

  “Yep.”

  “What a bummer.”

  “Mikey doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe it feeds his ego. He is the star quarterback, you know.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course he is. Are you saying he’s conceited? Because he doesn’t seem that way to me.”

  “Not conceited. Just aloof. And way too serious.”

  “Yeah. I kind of got that. He always has this grim look on his face. Why do you suppose that is?”

  “I don’t know. I think it’s a Lindstrom family trait. Jesse’s that way, too.”

  “Really?” She thought about it. Luke’s stepfather did seem somber. “So how do you suppose he and your mother ever got together? They seem so different.”

  “To tell you the truth—” Eyes still on the road, Luke reached out to adjust the radio. “I have absolutely no idea. Listen, Mikey and I are spending Saturday at Old Orchard Beach. The last hurrah before we go back to hitting the books. Want to come with us?”

  “How far is Old Orchard?”

  “A couple of hours. We’re taking Mikey’s truck. I don’t dare to go that far in this thing.”

  “Wise decision. Sure, I’d love to go. I can’t believe summer’s almost over. School next week.”

  “Devon’s already headed off to college. I’m giving it a couple of weeks, then I’m asking if I can have her room. It’s bigger than mine.”

  “You think they’ll give it to you?”

  “Just testing the waters. It never hurts to ask.”

  Luke’s friends were a motley crew of misfits, all of them appearing to be as laid back as her cousin. He carried in his guitar and amp, plugged them in, and introduced her around.

  “Tobey on drums,” he said. The drummer spun his sticks and saluted. “Corey on bass.” Another wordless greeting. “And this dude over here, on the keyboard, is Craig.”

  “Hey,” she said.

  A chorus of mumbled heys came back to her. “So where’s Nate?” Luke said.

  “Nate,” Tobey said, “is sick. Again. I hear her name is Emily.”

  Luke scowled. “How the hell are we supposed to get anywhere with this band if our lead singer keeps blowing us off?”

  “
I don’t know, dude. I’m just passing on the message.”

  “You need a singer?” Paige said.

  “It’s hard to play without one,” Craig said.

  “Well, hell. I can sing.”

  The boys exchanged dubious glances. “You can sing,” Luke said.

  She grinned and said, “Like a little bird.”

  Her cousin glanced around at his band mates. They all shrugged. “Okay, then,” he said. “Let’s see what you can do.”

  It took a few minutes to figure out what songs they knew in common, what they could play well enough so it wouldn’t sound like a cat in a blender. They finally settled on Janis Joplin. She’d been Sandy’s favorite singer, and Paige had grown up listening to her music. While the boys did their best to keep up, she belted out her own distinctive version of Piece of My Heart, putting everything she had into that song.

  When she was done, there was a moment of astonished silence. And then Luke, in a voice that sounded remarkably steady when you considered the look in his eyes, said, “Somebody call Nate, wish him good luck with Emily, and tell him he’s fired. I think he just got replaced.”

  Rob

  Saturday morning, he was alone in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hand and Igor draped over his shoulder, when his daughter bounced into the room wearing an unbuttoned man’s dress shirt and, beneath it, a pink bikini so small it would have been banned in Boston. Above hot pink Converse sneakers, her long, bare legs reached almost to her neck, and between the two tiny scraps of fabric a long, slender stretch of youthful skin was on flagrant display. Giant pink hoop earrings dangled from her earlobes, and she’d glopped on the make-up so thick he barely recognized her.

  His blood pressure shot high enough to put him at serious risk of suffering a coronary. “What in bloody hell is this?” he said.