Broken Pieces

by Carla Cassidy

  He laughed as he pulled her into a bear hug that almost stole her breath away. When she stepped back from him, she gazed into the eyes of the man who had been her best friend, confidant and neighbor throughout her childhood.

  “Finn,” she said, then stood on her tiptoes and reached up to rub his bald head. “What happened to all that glorious red hair?”

  “Male-pattern baldness. When I realized I was having to comb the hair on my shoulders up around my head, I decided it was time to go cue ball.” He stepped back and grabbed her by the shoulders. “But look at you. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I just stepped into a time machine. You look exactly like I remember.”

  Mariah laughed in delight. Of all the people she’d thought about over the years, Mitchell Tanner Finnigan—Finn to his friends—had come to mind most often.

  “And it’s an easy guess who this is,” Finn said as Kelsey approached where they stood, her new pooch held tight in her arms. “My God, Mariah, is she your daughter or is she your clone?” He offered Kelsey one of those smiles that Mariah remembered, a smile filled with the warmth of the sun. “Hi, I’m Finn. Your mother and I used to be very best friends.”

  “I’m Kelsey, and sometimes she’s my friend and sometimes she isn’t,” Kelsey replied, making both Finn and Mariah laugh. “Mom, can I take him up to my room?” Kelsey asked, and gestured to the half-snoozing pooch.

  Mariah smiled at Finn. “New dog, long story. Let me just get the door unlocked for her. Then I need to get these groceries inside.”

  “I’ll help with the groceries,” Finn offered, and began to grab bags as Mariah hurried to the porch to unlock the door for her daughter.

  It took only minutes to get the groceries from the car to the kitchen counter; then Mariah put on a pot of coffee, eager to play catch-up with her old friend.

  Finn sprawled in one of the kitchen chairs as Mariah set to work putting away the perishable groceries in the fridge and waiting for the coffee to brew.

  “I can’t tell you how many times I thought about you over the years,” he said. “You didn’t even tell me good-bye.” There was a hint of an old wound in his voice.

  “Finn, I didn’t even know I was leaving the night that I did.” She put the last of the frozen food into the freezer, then sat in the chair opposite him. “You know how awful things were here. The night before I left, my father went ballistic because I hadn’t folded some clothes to his measure of perfection. He got the switch and while he whipped me, I decided that was it. That was the last time he was going to lay a finger on me. I either had to leave or I was going to go to prison for murdering him.”

  Of course that wasn’t the complete truth. She’d left when she’d missed her period and realized she was pregnant. She’d run away rather than tell her father that she was going to have a baby.

  Finn leaned forward, bringing with him the scent of hay and sunshine. “So, what did you do? Where have you been for all these years? What have you been doing?”

  She got up to pour them each a cup of coffee, then sat down once again at the table and gazed at Finn. Finn and Mariah had bonded early in their childhood. It had been a bond of the abused and powerless.

  She wrapped her fingers around her cup of coffee. “That night I waited until my mother and father were in bed. Then I packed whatever clothes I could get into a tote bag, stole the money that my mother kept in the freezer for household expenses, and I caught a bus to Chicago.”

  “Jesus, weren’t you terrified?” he asked.

  “I was scared spitless,” she admitted. “But on the bus ride out I met a guy. He was in the army, on an eight-week furlough, and it was magic.” After years of practice the lie fell effortlessly from her lips. “A month later we got married and five months after that, I realized I was pregnant. Unfortunately when I was six months pregnant, my husband, Brian, was killed in a car accident.”

  His eyes darkened. “That was a tough break. And so you’ve been living in Chicago all this time, being a single parent?”

  “And a teacher. You know that’s what I said I always wanted to do.”

  He reached across the table and grabbed her hand in his big one. “And you’ve been happy?”

  She cast him a rueful smile. “Yes, for the most part I’ve been happy, although I know I don’t have to tell you about the inner demons that occasionally raise their heads.” He squeezed her hand, then released it and grabbed his coffee cup. “But enough about me. Tell me about you. How are Susan and Kim?”

  “Great.” His face flushed with pleasure. “Susan is married and she and her husband live in Virginia. Kim lives here in town and works at the bank.” His pride in his two younger sisters was evident in his voice.

  He should be proud. Finn had raised them both from the time they were little. “And what about you? Married? Single?”

  He grinned. “You remember Hannah Richards?”

  “Hot Pants Hannah? You married Hot Pants Hannah?” She looked at him incredulously. Hannah had been the fantasy of most of the guys in high school with her long shapely legs and penchant for short skirts and tiny shorts.

  He nodded, his eyes twinkling. “We’re celebrating our eighth anniversary next month and she’s still got the best-looking legs in town.”

  “Oh, Finn, I’m so happy for you. Kids?”

  “Two. Jeffrey is six and Gracie Ann is four. We need to have a party, get some of the old gang together while you’re here.”

  “We saw Clay last night while we were having dinner. He said the same thing.”

  “Ah, now, there’s a bitter man.” Finn took a sip of his coffee. “He had big dreams of playing professional football and that didn’t pan out. His wife was a bitch in high school and hasn’t changed much over the years.”

  “I was surprised when I heard he was married to Sherri,” she replied. “I figured she would have left Plains Point years ago. She was always talking about a career as a model.”

  “The only thing she could model now is maternity clothes. About every other year she pops out another baby and acts like she’s the grande dame of the city.” He eyed her with a touch of amusement. “I imagine she won’t be too happy to hear you’re back in town. Way I remember it, you and Clay were pretty thick before you left.”

  Mariah laughed. “Ancient history. A high school romance that probably wouldn’t have lasted until graduation.” She smiled as her daughter came into the kitchen. “Did you get the pooch all settled in?”

  She nodded. “He’s sleeping in his new bed.” She looked at Finn. “Mom ran over him with the car. The vet fixed him up and now he’s going to be our dog.”

  “Then you’ve seen Jack Taylor.” Finn laughed and shook his head. “Every single woman in Plains Point has decided to get a dog or a cat since he moved back to town,” Finn said drily. He smiled at Kelsey. “What are you? About sixteen?”

  Kelsey preened at what she considered a compliment. “Actually, I’m almost fifteen.”

  “I’ve got a friend who has a couple of girls about your age. I’ll be sure and let them know you’re in town.” Finn stood. “As much as I’d like to sit here all day and visit, I’ve got to get back to the farm. I’ve got chores to do.”

  “One more thing before you go,” Mariah said. “Do you know anyone who does odd jobs?”

  “You remember Joel Clarkson? He was a couple of years older than us.”

  “No, I don’t remember him,” Mariah replied.

  “He’s always looking for work. He drinks a bit, is sometimes unreliable, but he’s a pretty decent carpenter and will do almost anything for a fair wage. I’ll call you later with his number.”

  “Thanks, Finn.” Mariah walked with him to the front door, where he gave her another hug.

  “I’m so glad you came back.” He released her and smiled. “I always wondered what you were like all grown up.”

  She reached up and placed a hand on his lean cheek. “I missed you, too.” She dropped her hand and stepped back.

  �
�I’ll call you with that number,” he promised as he went out the door.

  “He seems nice,” Kelsey said when Mariah returned to the kitchen.

  “He’s a great guy who had a terrible childhood.” Mariah sat at the table and her daughter joined her.

  “Terrible how?”

  “Finn’s mother died when he was thirteen and his little sisters were three and four. His father was a raging alcoholic and most weekends he’d just disappear, leaving Finn to take care of the little girls. Then one weekend when Finn was sixteen, his father never returned home. Finn didn’t get to be a normal teenager. He was too busy being a father.”

  “What happened to his thumb?”

  Mariah knew instantly what Kelsey was talking about. Finn had no left thumb. “Right after his mother’s death he and his father were out chopping wood. His father was drunk, missed the wood and took off Finn’s thumb.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Kelsey exclaimed, obviously horrified.

  “It was pretty awful at the time, but Finn found a way to make the best of it. Over the next couple of years I heard him tell a dozen stories as to how he lost his thumb. He made up a story about catching a catfish so big it bit off his thumb. Then there was the story about him wrestling with a bear.”

  Kelsey laughed. “He sounds like fun. You guys were close?”

  Mariah picked up her cup and took a sip of the now lukewarm coffee. “He lives in the house next door. We walked to and from the bus stop together each day and tried to meet in the field between our houses at least once a day. We talked about how much we hated our home life and, as silly as it sounds, drew strength from each other.”

  “That doesn’t sound silly,” Kelsey replied. “You never dated him or anything like that?”

  Mariah smiled and shook her head. “It wasn’t like that between us. Finn and I were very best friends. He was like the brother I never had.”

  “Speaking of brothers, it’s not too late for you to give me a little brother or sister,” Kelsey said with a sly grin.

  “I’m not sure I could handle a teenager and a toddler at the same time,” Mariah said with a laugh.

  Kelsey tilted her head slightly and smiled. “I think you could handle almost anything, Mom.”

  Mariah’s heart expanded. She wasn’t sure how she’d managed to do something so right, but she’d raised a loving, intelligent daughter who made her proud every day.

  “And I still think you should get me a cell phone,” Kelsey added.

  “Get out of here. A new dog is enough for one day.”

  Kelsey got up from the table. “Okay, but you haven’t heard the last of the cell phone problem.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” Mariah replied.

  Kelsey left the kitchen and Mariah got up to pour herself a fresh cup of coffee. She returned to the table and stared out the open window, where the faint scent of rain-washed grass still lingered from the storm the night before. The sky was a blue she rarely saw in Chicago.

  She should be working. She should be pushing herself to get everything done and get back to their high-rise apartment. But she remained sitting, enjoying the warmth of seeing Finn again, surprised to discover the pleasant memories his visit had evoked.

  Somehow in the years she’d been away from Plains Point, she’d remembered only bad things. But now happy memories bloomed in her mind, memories of her and Finn lying in sweet-smelling grass and looking up at the clouds overhead, of making clover chains to wear around their necks and sipping from a bottle of Scotch to try to figure out why Finn’s father loved it so much.

  Although Jed had kept a hard thumb on her, there had been moments of freedom made all the more sweet because they came so rarely. There had been the occasional birthday parties and school functions that she’d been allowed to attend. When she was fifteen, she’d been allowed to go to a carnival in town with a bunch of kids and their parents.

  It had been one of the best nights of her life. The thrill of the rides couldn’t compete with the thrill of her temporary independence from her parents and her home.

  And when she’d gotten home that night, she’d paid for her good time. Her father had beaten her black-and-blue for not dusting the living room to his satisfaction. But it had been worth every lick of the switch. As he’d whipped her, in her mind she’d gone back on the Ferris wheel with the wind in her face and Finn’s laughter ringing in her ears.

  She startled as she realized her purse was ringing. She dug in it and retrieved her cell phone, the caller ID letting her know who was calling.

  “Hey, girlfriend,” she answered.

  “Ah, you survived your first night in hell,” Janice said.

  “I not only survived, but I’ve cleaned a kitchen, bought groceries, seen my old boyfriend and acquired a dog.”

  “Wow, you have been busy. How’s the boyfriend?”

  “Older, paunchy and a drinker,” Mariah said.

  “And the dog?”

  “Little, dark gray and with a broken leg.” Mariah explained to Janice about hitting the dog and the rush to get him to the vet. As she talked, a vision of Jack Taylor filled her mind. It had been a long time since a man had crossed her mind more than once.

  “How’s everything else? You doing okay? Did you have nightmares last night?” Janice, ever the counselor, asked.

  “No, no nightmares and I’m doing fine.” Mariah leaned back in the chair and cast her gaze out the window once again. “There’s a ton of work to get done before I can get this place on the market. I haven’t told Kelsey yet, but I can’t imagine us getting back home for at least a month or so.”

  Janice was silent for a long moment. “You going to be okay there for that long? I mean, it’s one thing to have to spend a week or two in a place where bad things happened, but to stay indefinitely is quite another.”

  “Actually, right before you called, I was sitting at the kitchen table and remembering some of the good times. You remember me telling you about Finn? He stopped by and we caught up a little bit. It was fun.”

  “You sound good,” Janice replied, relief in her voice. “You’ll call me if things get rough.”

  Mariah smiled, thanking her lucky stars for such a friend. “You’re on my speed dial.”

  “You know, I’ve been meaning to take a vacation. I could come out there and help you with the house.”

  “Janice, if you’re going to take a vacation, go to Mexico or to Hawaii. Don’t waste it coming here to work,” Mariah replied.

  The two spoke for just a few more minutes, then hung up. The rest of the day passed quickly. Mariah moved from the kitchen to the living room, where she took down draperies, swiped at cobwebs and scrubbed woodwork.

  Kelsey and her new pooch, officially named Tiny, moved from her room to the kitchen so Kelsey could work on dinner. Kelsey kept up a running monologue directed at the dog, whose cast clunked on the floor each time he took a step.

  Mariah had agreed that the dog could sleep in Kelsey’s room at night, but during the day he would be relegated to the kitchen. An old screen propped across the kitchen doorway provided a workable barrier to keep the dog in the room.

  It was after six when they sat down to eat the steak that Kelsey had prepared. Tiny sat next to Kelsey’s chair, looking up to her with big brown begging eyes.

  “Don’t you dare give him anything from the table,” Mariah said. “You don’t want to start a bad habit. He has his own food in his bowl.”

  Kelsey cast a sympathetic look at Tiny. “Sorry, baby, you have to eat your own food.” Tiny cocked his head to one side, then clumped over to his own food bowl and began to eat.

  It didn’t take long to realize that although, according to Jack Taylor, Tiny had been running the streets for several weeks, he was surprisingly domesticated. He responded to simple commands and after he was finished eating went to the back door.

  “I think we need to put up some flyers around town about Tiny,” Mariah said when Kelsey came back from taking the dog outside. “It’
s obvious he’s been trained and somebody might be missing him.”

  Kelsey held the dog in her arms and sighed. “I guess you’re right. But if nobody claims him, then I get to keep him, right?”

  Tiny barked, as if to add his two cents to the conversation. Mariah laughed and scratched the dog behind one ear. “That’s right. You can print the flyers on your computer and tomorrow we’ll put them around.”

  Kelsey nodded and placed the dog on the floor and then together she and Mariah cleared the table. There was no dishwasher in the old kitchen and as they washed dishes, they talked about what they’d do when they got back to Chicago.

  After dinner Kelsey went up to her room and Mariah moved into her father’s study and sat at his desk. She’d picked up several empty boxes while they’d been at the grocery store and she began to empty the contents of the desk into one of them.

  She’d worked about an hour when Kelsey found her and gave her the flyers she’d made. “I think I’m going to go to bed,” Kelsey said. “I don’t know why, but I’m pooped.”

  “It’s all this fresh country air.” Mariah got up from the desk and wrapped her arms around her daughter. “I’m going to work a while longer, so I’ll just tell you good night now.” She kissed Kelsey’s forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  As Kelsey headed back upstairs, Mariah returned to the desk. She turned on the desk lamp against the encroaching darkness of nightfall. The sound of crickets drifted in through the open window, a familiar sound from her childhood.

  Most of the contents of the desk were trash. Old bills already paid and sermons previously delivered filled the drawers. She threw most of it into a plastic bag, but kept the records of the most recent utility bills that had been paid.

  It was after nine when she decided to call it a night. It had been a long day and she was exhausted. She rose from the desk and stretched with her arms overhead, trying to work out the kinks that had tightened her muscles. She wasn’t used to the kind of physical work she’d done that day.