Love, Special Delivery

by Melinda Curtis

  “You’re doing fine telling your secrets to me.” He could listen to her secrets all night.

  Inside her room the ceiling fan whirred and Mandy was alone. In the backyard the cricket did his nightly serenade and Ben was alone. He wished she was outside with him.

  “Again,” she said, “I spill my guts and you give me nothing.”

  Ben wanted to give her things, things she’d rejected, like a chance to own his heart. But he knew she appreciated secrets. He withdrew the envelope from his back pocket. “I got a letter today.”

  “Yeah, Einstein. I delivered it.”

  Ben held it up. “I haven’t opened it yet.”

  “The plot thickens.” She waited for him to explain.

  He hoped no eggs would be broken. “I wasn’t entirely honest with you the other night on the glider.” Or himself.

  “If you tell me that envelope contains a copy of your marriage license, I might have to do you bodily harm.” She was only half joking.

  The time for jokes had passed. “Hannah and I took a DNA test. And here are the results.”

  “Uh... I thought Erica was your friend.”

  “She was. There’s just this one time—”

  “Spare me the details. Having been kissed by you once, I can relate to Erica’s decision.” She sighed in exasperation this time. “That sounded harsh.”

  “I deserve it. I didn’t tell you the truth.” He washed a hand over his face.

  “This is a big thing for you. Once you know the results, it’ll influence what you decide about fighting for Hannah.”

  Ben had always considered himself a decisive man. He wished this decision was out of his hands. He’d invited John to come by tomorrow in the hope that he wouldn’t need the envelope. “Let’s say I’m her biological father. John would be relieved.”

  “Let’s say you’re not.” Leave it to Mandy to cut right to the chase. “Clearly, John doesn’t want her.”

  “But he can provide for Hannah better than I can. She won’t have to worry about cars or college tuition.”

  “She’ll be raised by nannies three weeks of every month. Are you okay with that?” By her tone, she wasn’t.

  He wasn’t either.

  Mandy wasn’t letting him off the hook easily. “More to the point, do you think Erica would be okay with that?”

  He couldn’t filter the annoyance he felt for Hannah’s mother. “Erica lost her vote when she named John the father and me her guardian.” Ben had known Mandy’s position on this issue. Why was he getting defensive? “Look, I know I should open up my heart and embrace the idea of being Hannah’s father, but I can’t.”

  “Why not?” She didn’t give him the chance to answer. “And if you say it’s because your dad was a fireman and sucked at raising kids, I’m going to call you on that. You turned out okay. Honest to a fault maybe, but okay.”

  “That doesn’t mean I didn’t get hurt growing up,” he said petulantly, belatedly realizing that his childhood had been a fairy tale compared with hers.

  “It doesn’t mean you didn’t get over it either. Give yourself time to get used to the idea. You’ll do the right thing for both you and Hannah.”

  “How do you know?” How could she know when he didn’t?

  “Because you’re unable to live with a lie.”

  * * *

  “I’M SELLING THE HOUSE, Mandy,” Mom announced the next morning. She’d risen uncharacteristically early, hogged the bathroom and emerged not looking age appropriate. Her heels were too high. Her bodice too low. And her makeup? Too much. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Mandy said nothing, which pissed Olivia off, because Olivia had heard everyone getting up early and had arisen at the hour of the dead—4 a.m.—so as not to miss anything. Mandy saying nothing was unusual. She always had something to say. Except last night when she hadn’t defended herself.

  “You can send me the check when it sells,” Mom continued. “In the meantime, I’m leaving. I’ll pack up a few things. Mementos and such.” When Mandy didn’t rise to the bait, Mom turned to Olivia. “Why don’t you come with me, sweet thing? You can do my nails. I can see Mandy doesn’t let you do her nails.”

  Olivia stopped breathing. Her head felt light. Mom had never asked her to go before. Not forever.

  She’d always imagined Mom went to a special place, a place where there were no rules and everyone dressed in pretty clothes, although...Mom’s clothes weren’t as pretty as they used to be.

  “Don’t go.” Mandy stared at Olivia as if she couldn’t believe she’d spoken. “Don’t go and I’ll...” Mandy cast her gaze around the kitchen, at what little they had, at her postal uniform. “I’ll get you a loan for cosmetology school.”

  “Get her a loan?” Mom laughed and broadened her smile. Her smile wasn’t like Mandy’s. It was too hard and too bright, like a shiny fake penny. “Olivia shouldn’t have to make the payments. She’s had cancer. She deserves everything she wants.”

  Now we’re talking.

  Olivia had survived cancer. She did deserve the good things in life because she’d experienced the bad.

  “Responsible adults pay their own way in life.” Mandy rinsed her coffee cup in the sink.

  That was the best Mandy could do?

  It wasn’t good enough.

  “Pack up what you need, sweet thing. We’ll leave around nine.”

  “I can’t stop you, Olivia.” Mandy hesitated at the sink. “You’re eighteen. But you’ll always have a home with me.”

  Mom snorted. “She’ll probably charge you rent.”

  Mom was right.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “THERE’S NO REASON for this meeting,” Ben’s mother said in a hushed voice around noon the day after the DNA results had arrived. “You could be her real father. Erica made you her godfather and guardian for a reason. Open the envelope.”

  Hannah was in the backyard poking beneath the bushes in case any new critters had come to stay. Dad was outside on the front porch waiting for John to arrive.

  “This is for the best,” Ben said, glancing at his pager. He had double knots of tension in his chest. “I wasn’t listed on Hannah’s birth certificate for a reason.”

  “He’s here,” Dad announced in a smooth voice, coming in from the front porch. He’d spent the morning with his eucalyptus breathing treatment. “He drove a hookup vehicle to meet his daughter for the first time. He’s too flashy. I don’t like him.”

  Mom called Hannah inside. Her fine blond hair had already escaped the braids over her ears. Her cheek and one knee were dirt-smudged. And her pink blouse had a stain at the hem.

  “Ben?” Mom looked from Hannah to him. “Should we change?”

  “No.” Let him see who Hannah really was. “It’s okay.” He took Hannah’s hand. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  Typical Hannah. She grew quiet and watchful when in new situations or with new people.

  They stepped onto the front porch.

  John had driven the Tesla and was wearing a suit again. He came up the walk carrying a bouquet of pink roses and a small baby doll. “Are you Hannah?”

  Han nodded solemnly.

  John probably closed a lot of deals with that smile. He’d need more than a smile to win over Hannah.

  Ben was supposed to want John to win over Hannah. Less than a minute in and he found himself rooting against him.

  “These are for you.” John held out the roses and the doll, uncharacteristically unpolished both in action and his choice of gifts.

  Hannah heaved a weary sigh, the one she reserved for meddlesome, disappointing adults. She accepted the flowers first. “Spiders love roses.” She craned her neck to stare up at John. “Because bugs love roses and spiders eat bugs.”
>
  John looked perplexed, which eased at least one knot of tension in Ben’s chest.

  “I’ll put these in water.” Mom whisked the flowers away.

  John handed the doll to Hannah.

  It was her turn to look perplexed. “Why are you giving me this?”

  “Little girls love dolls,” John said, sounding less confident than he appeared.

  “This little girl doesn’t love dolls.” Dad gestured to the door. “Come inside. Must be hot in that suit of yours.”

  Hannah gave her gift a thorough examination on her way inside. “She doesn’t do anything.” She dropped the doll on the coffee table.

  Ben began to breathe easier.

  Mom set a vase with the roses on the hearth. “It’s not what the doll does, it’s how you play with her. You can pretend to be her mother or her older sister.” She fussed with Hannah’s hair.

  Hannah heaved another sigh and sat on the couch.

  “So you like more interactive toys.” John unbuttoned his jacket and sat in Dad’s lounger, eliciting a frown from Dad. “What about video games?”

  “No,” the Libbys chorused.

  “She’s seven,” Ben said, feeling the need to add, “Too young for video games, tablets or cell phones.” In case John had other ideas.

  John had tried gifts. And potential gifts. He resorted to his fallback—that smile. “What do you like, Hannah? I’ll get you whatever you want.”

  Mom gave Ben a look that said: open that letter and get rid of this guy.

  Hannah swiped at her nose with the back of her hand. “Animals. Reptiles. Bugs. I have an infirmary. Do you want to see?”

  “Yes.”

  “What I like you can’t buy.” Hannah pulled away from Mom’s hair repair and ran to the garage door. “Come on.” When all the adults had joined her in the garage, Hannah said, “These are all the animals I’ve rescued.”

  John’s brow wrinkled. “Do people drop them off?”

  “Oh, no,” Dad said with unrestrained glee. “She finds them. All over town.”

  “She has a tendency to wander off if left unattended,” Mom said, not at all apologetically.

  Ben felt a rush of love for his parents.

  “I go mostly when Granny naps,” Hannah said, defending herself. “But I’m supposed to leave a note. Granny doesn’t mind me rescuing anything—except snakes—as long as she knows where I am.”

  John looked as if his most promising financial deal had gone sour.

  “I don’t think he likes snakes either.” Hannah turned to Ben. “Who’s your friend?”

  In the rush to the door and the nerves, they’d forgotten to introduce Hannah to her father.

  John took the Libby hesitation as a sign that he should introduce himself. He put out his hand the way he’d done when he and Ben had met. “I’m John Smith.”

  His statement hung in the air, along with his hand.

  And then Hannah screamed.

  Everyone flinched—the Libbys, John and the animals in the cages.

  And then Hannah stopped screaming and ran.

  * * *

  MOM’S CAR RATTLED and made more noise than an MRI machine.

  And it wasn’t just vibrating. It was trashed, filled with cigarette butts, empty fast-food bags and...was that a pair of panties?

  Ew.

  Olivia’s jaw clenched and she tried to relax because they hadn’t even left Harmony Valley yet and it was afternoon.

  Mom had wanted to swing by an old friend’s house, leaving Olivia in the car for an hour. Then she’d driven through the back alleys downtown and Dumpster-dived. Olivia had refused to get out of the car. Mom had stuffed a bag of pastries she found behind the bakery under her seat and tossed a pair of men’s sneakers in the back. And then she’d gone back to the house because she said she forgot something, only Olivia was convinced Mom just felt like she needed to scrounge more stuff. She came out with an armful of clothing and a bag of canned food.

  This was feeling less and less like a trip to a special place and more like a bad mistake.

  But Olivia wasn’t ready to give up. This was supposed to be an in-your-face payback to Mandy. She’d paid Mom to stay away. Olivia had been chosen to go with Mom. Olivia was going to see something Mandy never had—Mom’s place. If she didn’t like staying with Mom, she’d just tell her and Mom would bring her back...wouldn’t she?

  Mom hit a pothole, and the car nearly shimmied off the road.

  “Are you sure this car is safe?” Olivia clutched the door handle.

  “Would I be driving it if it wasn’t?” Mom’s mouth curled up in a half sneer. “How quickly you try to bite the hand that feeds you.”

  She hadn’t fed Olivia anything. “I’m a teenager. I speak my mind.” Although technically, she was an adult.

  “I’m not taking you along to listen to whatever fluff is on your mind. I want to know what your inheritance is.”

  “My what?”

  “Don’t play dumb.” Mom took her eyes off the road and put them on Olivia.

  It was the eyes that brought the memories steamrolling through Olivia’s head, flattening the chemo-brain barricade for good.

  “Those sweaters are hideous.” Mom had sulked on the couch one Christmas morning wearing a burgundy silk halter top.

  “We love these sweaters.” Mandy had hugged Olivia tighter to her side, her smile like a shield. They wore matching sweaters Grandma had made.

  “It’s a family tradition,” Grandpa said, smiling benevolently at Olivia, who’d smiled back.

  Great. A family tradition? Olivia was going to have to learn how to knit.

  “Why don’t you two act your age?” Mom had said to Grandma and Grandpa as they danced around their kitchen on New Year’s Eve.

  Grandma had been wearing a sparkly cocktail dress and heels, and Grandpa wore a suit. She’d made the girls wear their best dresses. They played big band records loud enough to rattle the windows, and danced like it was their last night on the planet.

  “We love it.” Mandy spun Olivia around like the ballerina on her music box.

  “You could love it, too,” Grandpa said. “It’s a family tradition.”

  Olivia laughed and kept spinning, vaguely aware of the tension, but happy to be surrounded by love.

  Great. Another family tradition. Olivia was going to have to learn how to dance.

  “Where did she put your wallet, Dad?” Mom had whispered to Grandpa as he lay in a hospital bed.

  Olivia had been twelve and had been sleeping in the window seat.

  Mom turned, as if sensing Olivia was awake. “You know where Grandpa keeps his coffee money, don’t you, sweet thing?”

  Mandy had appeared in the doorway in her postal uniform, looking tired after a long shift. She took in Olivia’s expression, and the predatory way their mother had been leaning over the hospital bed. “Olivia, can you tell the nurse Grandpa wants pudding?”

  Olivia had run to the nurse’s station and waited there until Mom left, tucking bills into her wallet.

  Mom hit another pothole.

  “Why did you take Mandy’s money?” Olivia demanded.

  Mom’s laugh grated on Olivia’s nerves. “I’m your mother. I don’t have to answer to you.”

  “Did you spend it on drugs or beer or...or...some stupid guy?”

  Mom ignored her question. “Let me borrow your cell phone.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I left mine at home.” She grabbed Olivia’s purse and dragged it into her lap, rooting around until she came up with the phone. She drove and dialed at the same time.

  Even Olivia, who’d never taken her driver’s test, knew that was illegal.

  “Hey, Jerry. It’s me.” Mom balanced Olivia
’s phone between her shoulder and chin, steering with her knee, while she opened Olivia’s wallet. “I’ve missed you, too. Look, I’ve got some money.” She stuffed the bills in her bra and tossed Olivia’s purse back at her. “How about we go out tonight? And then...” Mom laughed. “I know, right?”

  Olivia’s stomach churned. She’d made a terrible mistake.

  Great. She was going to have to apologize to Mandy.

  All Olivia’s life, she’d let someone else deal with her mother. Lately, Mandy had done all the dirty work, holding the uncomfortable conversations, paying Mom and her slimy negativity to vacate the premises. So what if Mandy had done it without telling her? Mandy had done the right thing. Olivia had been a baby, a child, a sick princess.

  Olivia dug in her purse until she found Grandma’s brass ring. She slipped it on her finger, not caring that the bronze clashed with the orange-and-yellow ombré shading she’d put on her nails. Just this morning, she’d been thinking how awesome it looked, just like candy corn. Which just went to show what a baby she was.

  No more.

  “No more,” Olivia said out loud. She wouldn’t be the weak link in Mandy’s life. She met Teri’s gaze—Teri, not Mom. Mandy was right about that, too. Teri hadn’t earned the title. “I’m alive.” She thought of Mandy’s ugly uniform and thick boots. Mandy could have left Olivia at any time. She could have put her kid sister in a foster home and gone on with her life. “I’m alive because Mandy had the guts to stay. She raised me. She took care of Grandma when the cancer came back, and she took care of Grandpa when his mind gave out.” Olivia drew a deep breath, wishing Mandy’s hand held hers now. The ring would have to do. “But she will not take care of you. Not anymore. I won’t let her.”

  Teri had hung up the phone and put it in her bra with Olivia’s money. “In case you weren’t listening to our early-morning conversation, sweet thing, I told Mandy to sell the house. We’re parting ways.” Teri gave her the half smirk again. “But you and I... We’re just beginning. We’re going to party and you will tell me about your inheritance.”

  Olivia recoiled against the door. She’d bet the guys Teri partied with weren’t as cool or as nice as Ryan.

  The stop sign at the highway loomed ahead. Once they turned toward Cloverdale on the two-lane, there’d be no more stopping. There’d be no getting away.