Kate gulped. Had she really spent that much more than usual? She’d bought a new crib since Anna’s had been recalled, a car seat, a bed for Lily, a glider chair and all of those clothes. “Sorry. I didn’t think it was that much.”
“We need to save our money for the adoption. I’m sure we’ll have to pay for a lawyer and the hospital bills. I don’t know what else.”
She flinched.
He pointed at her. “There it is. You don’t want to adopt Dayna.”
“Sure I do. If that’s what Lily wants.”
“No. If anything, you want to adopt Lily. You buy her stuff, baby-sit whenever she wants to go bang her boyfriend, let her walk all over you, but your eyes light up when you see her playing with Dayna. You’re still harboring the fantasy that you can fix Lily.”
Kate chewed on her bottom lip. She did feel more of a connection with Lily than Dayna. But that was because she knew Lily. They had history. “I would feel more comfortable adopting Dayna than I would any other baby. I’m not sure I want to be the one to take her away from her mother.”
Mitch sighed. “Adoption is not about tearing apart families. It’s about giving a home to a baby whose birth parents are unable to do so.”
“So because we have money, we get a baby. And because Lily is poor, she has to give up her child?”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand what you want me to say here. We both want a baby. Apparently, it’s not going to happen biologically for us. What other options do we have? I suggested an egg donor—”
“Enough already.” She turned away and pushed the sadness back down. She wished Mitch would wrap his arms around her torso and squeeze her tight. But he didn’t. Instead of making her feel better, he made her feel worse.
He took a deep breath. “I’m worried this baby thing is going to tear us apart.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
JOELY
Joely didn’t take Dalton up on his offer. At least not the one for dinner. She’d gone home and dug around in Kate’s basement looking for her boxed up art supplies. She found some of her brushes in one box and then discovered her vibrant Fiestaware collection in another. They used to be in her kitchen where their bright colors greeted her on a daily basis. For five years now, the dishes, cups and pitchers had been relegated to the dark basement. And for five years, Joely hadn’t bothered to add to her collection.
She sat on the floor and unwrapped an orange saucer and ran her fingers over its glaze. She’d almost forgotten about these treasures. After pondering that thought, she returned the plate to its protective wrapping and pulled over another box. She reached in and unwrapped a shamrock-green mug. A fractured triangle of ceramic fell onto the floor. She picked up the shard and placed its white edges where they belonged, as if she could will the cup back together.
Clinging to the mug, she leaned back against the cement wall. Melancholy washed over her.
It must have broken in the move. Stuff always got broken when you moved. But why did it have to be her Fiestaware? Her Fiestaware had been collected piece by piece at estate sales and flea markets over her entire adult life. She liked it not because of its monetary value, but because of the way its dynamic colors cheered her.
After a few minutes, she put the cup down. She was on a mission, after all. She continued searching for her other treasures—paints.
Once she’d gathered everything she figured she’d need, she climbed up the stairs. Then up another set of stairs into her bedroom. There, she startled someone.
Lily was in her room, leaning over Joely’s bed, rummaging through Joely’s macramé purse.
Joely gasped. “What are you doing?”
Lily froze. She did not speak.
“Give me my purse. What did you take?”
“Nothing.”
Joely surveyed the girl’s hands and saw that they were empty. “Well, that’s only because I caught you. Get out. And don’t ever come in my room again!”
Lily kicked the bed frame then walked past her. “I wasn’t gonna take nothin’.”
“You should ask first before you go through someone’s purse.”
Lily put her head down and went into her room. She slammed the door behind her.
Joely put her hand to her chest to feel the thumping. Then she couldn’t help but check inside her wallet to see if anything was missing.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t remember how much cash she had on her. She’d gone to the ATM a week ago and had been trying to stretch that $20. She didn’t use credit cards because she’d seen the way Kate could blow money without realizing it. Joely preferred to keep herself in check. She had to.
She still had four dollars. Hmm. Lily was probably telling the truth. At least about the part where she said she hadn’t taken anything. Who knew if she would’ve, if she had the chance?
Joely marched toward Kate’s room to give her an earful. But it sounded like Mitch already was. Rather than wait her turn, Joely grabbed her box, careful to support the bottom that was ready to fall apart, and placed it in the car. Then she went to meet Dalton.
LILY
Dear Dayna,
I don’t know what they’ll tell you about me, but know this: one time, when my mom left me for two weeks and I ran out of food, I went to the grocery store and pocketed an apple and some peanut butter crackers. I thought they might fill me up longer than a candy bar, even though that’s what I really wanted. Another time, I took all of my mom’s liquor bottles, poured the booze out and replaced it with water. I was real little and I didn’t think she’d know the difference since they both looked the same. But she just grabbed the money in the cookie jar she’d been saving for rent and went to a bar.
Anyway, another truth you need to know is that your mother was not a thief. I tried my best to take care of myself and no matter what Mrs. H’s sister may tell you, I was not stealing money from her purse. I was actually looking for a locket I’d seen her wearing one day. It was a gold heart and had a tiny picture of her daughter inside. It wasn’t in her jewelry box, so I thought maybe it was in her purse. I wanted to see it because I might like to carry a picture of you with me after I leave. I’d have to save my money for a while, but I could do it.
Lily
JOELY
Dalton surprised Joely. On the lobby floor of the vet clinic, he’d spread a red plaid tablecloth and a picnic basket. Dogs barked in the distance.
Joely’s fingers tightened on the bottom of the cardboard box when she walked in and saw the scene. “What’s this? I told you no dinner. I want to get started on the mural.”
He came closer and relieved her of her burden. “You have to eat. You told me Jake was taking Anna to dinner, but you didn’t say anything about you grabbing a bite.”
At the mention of food her belly rumbled. She couldn’t help but give in to a smile.
Dalton put the box on the counter, then took her hand and eased her down to sit on the floor. He took his place next to her and opened the basket. He served her fried chicken and corn on the cob.
She took a bite of a chicken leg and realized he hadn’t stopped at KFC. This tasted like Mrs. Pilo’s chicken, dipped in flour, salt and pepper, and fried in Crisco. She watched as he stuck steel cob holders in the ends of the corn. “I hope you packed the floss.”
They both laughed, then she ate like she had something better to do afterwards. Which, of course, she did. He, however, tried to keep a conversation going, asking about her day and about her upcoming week. She told him about her confrontation with Lily and how she couldn’t stay gone too long because she had to meet Jake on neutral ground since Kate had banned him from coming over. Ultimately, she articulated the thoughts that had been tumbling around inside her brain: that she felt like she was being pushed out of her home. It surprised her how it all came spilling out.
He offered sympathy and encouragement when she discussed roadblocks to moving out. When they were done eating, he reached toward her and loosened the long earring that had become ta
ngled in her brunette curls. While his hand touched her hair, his face hovered near hers.
She closed her eyes. In an instant, she tasted his slightly salty lips.
A moment later, he slipped his tongue into her mouth and something primal awoke inside her. It had been forever since she’d felt so alive. So impulsive. So out of control.
She savored it a moment then broke away. She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. It took a minute for her to catch her breath. “Where did you get the name Dalton?”
He grinned. “That’s what you need to know before we go any further?”
Further? Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. She looked around the empty office. The lights were dim and she suddenly realized this could get complicated. Anna wasn’t in the next room with Ryan petting the dogs.
It was just her and Dalton. All alone.
Abandoning her plate, she stood and walked toward her paint supplies. “Yes. Tell me why your parents named you Dalton.”
“All right. You want to take things even slower. I thought we were already moving pretty slow, but OK.” He took their paper plates and set them in a trashcan behind the counter. “Ever heard of the Dalton Gang?”
“No.” She started pulling her brushes out of the box.
He leaned against the counter beside her. “In the late 1800s their family farm was taken by the railroad and so these brothers became train robbers. One of them wanted to be more famous than Jesse James and so he decided they should rob two banks across the street from one another at the same time. They got $25,000 in twelve minutes. The problem was that the townspeople had been tipped off.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Four of the Dalton gang members died that day. Somehow Emmett Dalton received twenty-three gunshot wounds and lived. He was sentenced to life in prison.”
“Interesting. So, you’re not just a cowboy, you’ve got outlaw in your blood.”
“Not in my blood, just in my name. My great-great grandfather helped hide some of the gang’s loot. When Emmett was pardoned by the governor years later, my grandfather dug up the money and gave it to him. Emmett went on to become a law-abiding citizen. Died at the age of sixty-six.”
“Thanks to your great-great grandfather.”
He raised his shoulders. “Could be. So where did the name Joely come from?”
“It’s not nearly as clandestine as yours.”
“That’s OK. It’s such a beautiful, unusual name.”
The intensity of his gaze made her blush. “My father was a huge Billy Joel fan. If I’d been a boy, my name would’ve been Joel, but since I was a girl, he added the ‘y’.”
“What about you? Do you like Billy Joel?”
“Definitely. I liked him before I knew I was named after him.”
He moved behind her and gently pushed her hair to the side, exposing her long neck. “So if I put on “Just the Way You Are”, would you make out with me?”
She allowed herself to smile. “You wouldn’t use the power of Billy for evil now, would you?”
He kissed her neck. “Whatever it takes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
KATE
Evan opened the door clutching an Exacto knife in his hand like a weapon. Kate barely recognized her old friend, shirtless, with dark crescents under his wild eyes. He appeared both young and old at the same time.
She hesitated at his doorstep. It was one of those houses, a split-level, where you immediately had to make a choice whether to go up or down. Much like Evan, actually. He was either up or down, ecstatic or miserable. Looking past him, she saw papers and photographs strewn down the steps.
She studied the knife warily. “What’s going on?” He’d called her around seven p.m., sounding frantic, asking for help.
Evan shook his shoulder-length hair then stepped back to welcome her in. “I need help.”
She nodded, lingering in the doorway. Then it hit her. Where was his son? Was he safe? She stepped inside to find out, struggling to remember the boy’s name. “Is Bobby here?”
“He’s in bed, probably barfing some more. He started at two a.m. and every time he drinks a little milk, he vomits again.” This much she’d gathered from his rambling phone call. That’s why she hadn’t brought Dayna with her, no need to expose her to these germs.
Evan shook his head and gestured for her to go into the dark, lower level of the house. “I’ve washed his sheets three times already.” His voice trailed behind her. “He screams and throws a fit every time I take away Puff, his stuffed dragon, to put it in the washer. After giving him two baths, I’ve decided I give up. I can’t take it anymore.”
Kate figured his own shirt had probably gotten dirty and that’s why he’d taken it off. She tried not to notice his biceps or the small nest of curly hair that trailed down his sternum. “Have you called the doctor?”
“No. They won’t help. Kids get sick easily, that’s all they say.” He pointed with the knife toward the couch. “I’ve finally found something that makes me feel better. I’ve been cutting Gabrielle’s face out of every picture I have. Because I hate her for leaving me with a child to raise by myself.”
Now that she was closer, Kate could see the decimated wedding photos with sloppy ovals and slashes cut through them. Evan was losing it. She needed to distract him. “Why don’t you set down the knife and let’s talk? Maybe put a shirt on and make us some coffee?”
His eyes darted around like he was thinking. Finally, he handed her the knife. “You take over. I think I need something stronger than coffee, though.” He walked into the kitchen. She saw the familiar dragon tattoo undulating across the back of his shoulders.
She forced herself to look away.
Where should she put the knife? She thought about hiding it behind a withering plant on a shelf, but worried Bobby might find it. She couldn’t find the plastic cap, so really no place would be safe. She tucked it into her purse and hoped Evan would think he’d lost it. “I’m going to check on Bobby.” She padded up the carpeted steps and soon the pungent stench of vomit overwhelmed her. She started to gag, almost getting sick herself from the smell. Covering her mouth, she tried not to breathe as she made her way into the blue room with the red stripes. The stripes were not as she had imagined them; they criss-crossed, resembling the British flag more than the American.
Bobby was asleep, a bit of dried amoeba-shaped vomit stained the sheet near his head. A light-green stuffed dragon rested under his tiny hand. He looked so sweet and innocent, it was hard to believe he’d kicked her at the pediatrician’s office.
Softly closing the door behind her, she slipped out and back down to the living room. She asked Evan for the pediatrician’s phone number and called just to see what they had to say. Sitting on the back of the couch, she waited on hold for eight minutes before a phone nurse came on and suggested that milk was a poor choice for a child with an upset belly. Otherwise, Evan was right. The nurse wasn’t very concerned.
Evan, dressed in a wrinkled gray T-shirt with letters so faded she couldn’t read them, offered her a mug. He drank from a mug, too, but she worried it wasn’t coffee. “What are you having?”
“Coffee. Irish coffee.” He licked his lips. “I didn’t have any whiskey so I used vodka.”
Again, she felt the urge to throw up. She swallowed instead. “Let’s sit. Tell me what’s going on.” Unable to find a coaster, she hesitated to set her cup on the coffee table. She wondered if Bobby had hidden them, just like Anna had hers. For some reason, kids thought coasters were toys. After a quick search of the area, she noticed water rings already marred the varnish. She centered her cup in one of the circles, so she wouldn’t cause additional damage, then cleared off the couch. They both took seats, their knees facing each other.
He squeezed his eyebrows together and looked as if he might cry. “God, Kate. I feel like I’m going crazy. I couldn’t take Bobby to daycare because he’s sick, I didn’t have time to make lesson plans for a sub, I feel like I haven’t been in my cl
assroom hardly at all this year. I just don’t have what it takes to be a single dad.” His voice quavered at the last part.
Kate placed her hand over his knuckles. “It’ll be alright. I know it’s tough. When your kid is sick, it feels like the whole world is coming to an end.” Or in her case, when her sister was sick. When Joely had pleurisy and could hardly breathe, it seemed like she was slowly dying. Frustration and helplessness had consumed Kate, clouded her outlook. (Fortunately, her niece hardly ever even caught a cold).
“My whole world has ended. All I do is go to work and take care of a sick kid. I don’t have time to go out for drinks with friends, ride my bike, do my own artwork. I’m so stressed, I could scream.” Then he did scream.
Kate patted his hand, trying to calm him. “I have an idea. You take a shower and I’ll watch Bobby while you go out. Take a walk in the park, hang out at the Artist’s Café, and bring home a movie to watch later.”
He took a few deep breaths. “Really?”
“Really. You just need to get out of the house. I’m sure you’ll feel better afterwards.” She took the vodka out of his hands. Even though her free time was filled with Anna, Lily and Dayna, Kate blurted out, “And call me anytime if you need me to baby-sit.”
JOELY
Mitch handed Joely the phone. “You might want to take this in your bedroom.”
Dalton must’ve called to wish her goodnight, even though they’d just seen each other a few hours ago. Smiling, she took the cordless phone and placed it against her ear. “Hello?” She headed upstairs.
“It’s a good thing Mitch answered the phone because Kate would’ve hung up.” It wasn’t Dalton; it was Jake. His voice was deep and smooth, like a radio announcer’s.
The joy drained out of her body. “What do you want?”
“Thank you for letting me see Anna today. I know it was short notice.”
“You didn’t give me any notice.” She closed her bedroom door behind her. She stood in the middle of her room and paced, watching her reflection in the dark window.
What Happiness Looks Like (Promises) Page 15
