by Laura Abbot
When Abby was an infant, Nell had been able to beg off most of those occasions, despite Rick’s impatience with her. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t want to hire a baby-sitter three or more nights a week. Then, as time went on and he was more entrenched in the monied, fast world of big-time donors and alumni, it became more and more terrifying to accompany him.
It was then the drinking first began.
Just one or two to loosen up. When that no longer sufficed, she’d graduated to a quick nip before leaving home. All around her, whether at tailgate parties or testimonial dinners, there was liquor. Soothing, relaxing, addictive liquor.
From Abby’s room issued the sound of her CD player, turned up high. Nell bit her lip, knowing it wasn’t the music that had her on edge, but her memories. Rick had never understood her shyness. He’d married a homebody when he’d wanted a hostess. And a lover. Had she really been that inadequate? All she knew was a day had come when she’d panicked, sure she couldn’t be what he needed her to be. Wanted her to be. And she’d self-medicated. Boy, had she ever.
No wonder Abby was concerned about Brady. She’d seen one marriage break up. Abby needed complications no more than Nell did, and she tried in her awkwardly loving way to protect both of them from change. That’s why the kiss could mean nothing. Nell absolutely could not—would not—let herself become vulnerable again.
She rose to her feet, determined to reassure Abby. She walked down the hall and knocked on the bedroom door.
“What?” Abby’s tone was not welcoming.
“May I come in?”
“I guess.”
Abby had thrown her skirt on the floor and lay sprawled on her bed, clad in cutoff jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt, reading a teen magazine, her stuffed animals forming a phalanx around her. With an irritated sigh, she reached over to the bedside table and turned down the volume of the CD player.
“How was your time at Lily’s?”
“Okay.”
Count on a teenager never to volunteer anything. “Did Chase behave himself?”
“Yeah. He’s cute.” Abby flipped the page of her magazine.
“About last night—”
“What about it?”
“Could you look at me while we’re talking?” The minute the words were out of her mouth, Nell regretted them. Accusations hardly facilitated open communication.
“Sure.” Abby made a show of laying her magazine aside, sitting up, tucking her knees to her chest and staring directly at her mother. “Satisfied?”
“Oh, Abby, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to come off as a shrew.”
Abby quirked her mouth in disbelief.
“I, uh, was disappointed in your manners at the party.”
“What about them?”
“You were not very pleasant when I introduced Mr. Logan.”
Abby shrugged. “So?”
“He is my friend, and I expected better from you.”
“Your friend? What kind of friend?” She chewed a hangnail, her sarcasm belied by the fear in her eyes.
“Abby, he’s a nice man. Someone I enjoy visiting with. That’s all. Why can’t you just accept what I’m saying?”
“Get real, Mom.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s interested in you. There. Are you happy?”
Nell stared, dumbfounded at her daughter. “Why would you say a thing like that?”
Abby threw her a disgusted look. “I saw it, Mom. Are you blind? Didn’t you see the way he was looking at you? All goo-goo-eyed?”
No words came. Nell felt the heat of a blush coloring her face.
“So quit giving me that ‘friend’ crap, all right?” And with that, Abby rolled over, picked up the magazine and turned up the CD player.
Heart thudding, Nell slunk out of the room, flabbergasted. She wanted to protest, but she couldn’t. Not without lying to her daughter—and herself.
She, too, had seen the look.
“WHADDYA THINK the mystery meat is?” Tonya set down her tray and took the seat Abby had saved for her in the school cafeteria.
“Something that may have been bologna in a former life.” Abby moved her fork around her plate. “Disguised with yukky barbecue paste.”
“Yummy,” Tonya said, patting her bare midriff and puffing out her cheeks as if in preparation to hurl.
The sick, sweet smell of canned corn turned Abby’s stomach. “I’m not hungry anyway.”
Just then a freckle-faced boy walked by and, using his spoon as a drumstick, thwacked the two girls on the head. “Puh-leeze,” Tonya whined to his departing back. “Grow up.”
“Boys can be disgusting,” Abby said, tearing off a portion of her roll and putting it in her mouth.
“Some boys,” amended Tonya, casting a meaningful glance at a table near the food line.
Abby looked in the same direction, where a bunch of jocks sat hunched over their trays. “Dream on.”
“Abby, quit putting on a big act. I noticed Alan Voyle talking to you at your locker.”
Abby didn’t feel like discussing him right now, even with her best friend. “So?”
“I think he likes you.”
Abby couldn’t suppress a thrill of interest. “No way.”
“You shoulda seen how he looked at you.”
Ordinarily she’d have been ecstatic. Alan was ultra cool, but Tonya had innocently reminded her of what she’d been trying to forget—the way that man had looked at her mother. She shoved away her tray, fighting tears.
Tonya studied her. “You okay?”
Abby stood. “Not really.” She picked up her tray and made a beeline for the return counter.
“Wait up!” Tonya was right behind her. “You’re acting weird.”
“Why not? My whole life is weird.”
“C’mon.” Tonya grabbed her by the arm, steered her toward a floor-to-ceiling window at the end of a row of lockers and pulled her down on the carpet. Abby rested her chin on her knees and stared outside where hummingbirds flitted to a feeder hanging near the science room and a squirrel scampered across the grass. “Okay. So what’s the matter?”
“What would you say if I told you my mother has a boyfriend?” There. She’d said it. Out loud. Abby watched while, as if in slow-motion, her friend’s eyes widened.
“No way.”
Abby was surprised by the tick of irritation. Like Tonya couldn’t imagine her mother being attractive enough or something?
Tonya leaned forward, her face alive with curiosity. “Go on. Tell me. Who is it?”
“This man.”
“Well, duh.”
“She, er, met him at the library.” How romantic did that sound?
“He must be super nerdy.”
Abby shook her head. “He’s not. He’s actually kinda handsome.”
“So what’s the problem?” Tonya waited, then shook her head as if she had miraculously been given the answer to her own question. “Yeah, I guess they are kinda old.”
“It’s not that, it’s just…weird.” Abby felt stupid. What did “weird” communicate? Nothing. But she had no other words for her feelings.
“Why?”
“Mom and I have finally got it all together. We don’t need anybody. Especially not him.”
Tonya looked puzzled. “Yeah, but wouldn’t your mom like a man? I mean, she’s not that old, I guess.”
The locker area was beginning to fill up with students getting their books for their next class. Abby leaned forward and hissed in Tonya’s ear, “You don’t get it, do you?”
Tonya shrugged. “I guess not.”
“My mother doesn’t need anybody but me. Somebody else might not understand.” She gulped. “He might make everything worse.”
Tonya laid a hand on Abby’s knee. “Jeez, are you thinking maybe,” she faltered, “like maybe your mom would—”
Abby hung her head. “Yeah. What if she liked this guy and he didn’t like her? Maybe she’d—” Abby couldn’t fin
ish.
“Start drinking again?”
Abby nodded mutely.
“She prob’ly wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, but if she did—” Abby raised tear-filled eyes to her friend “—I couldn’t stand it.”
The bell for the next period rang, and both girls jumped. Tonya was the first to stand. “I gotta go. I have a test.” She reached down, took Abby’s hand and hauled her to her feet. “But we’ll talk after school. Promise.”
Oblivious to the hurried commotion around her, Abby watched her friend depart, feeling as alone as she had in a long time. She swiped at her eyes. She knew it was childish to suspect her mother would start drinking again. But there must be a reason her grandmother always reminded her to watch out for Nell. Like maybe Grandma thought her mother needed a keeper.
Brady Logan might be an okay guy. But Abby couldn’t help thinking he’d end up upsetting her mother. And that would not be good.
When the second bell rang, Abby’s stomach plummeted. Now she’d have to walk into math class late. Everyone would be staring at her, noticing her skinny legs, gross braces and stringy hair.
Eighth grade sucked.
Except maybe for Alan Voyle.
NELL DIDN’T HAVE TO go in for work Monday until mid-afternoon, so following her morning meeting, she went to yoga class, grabbed a quick bite and then returned home to work some more on the pencil sketch she planned to give her mother for Christmas. No sooner had she put on some soothing music and settled at her desk than the doorbell rang.
When she answered it, there stood Lily in a powder blue shorts outfit with Chase, looking adorable in a pint-size cowboy suit. “Hope you’re not busy,” Lily said hopefully.
Nell stood aside and held the door open. “Just doing some drawing. Come on in.” Nell hunkered beside Chase. “Hey, squirt, got a hug for your auntie?” He reached his chubby arms around her neck and planted a wet kiss on her cheek.
“Bocks,” he said.
“Smart kid. You remembered, didn’t you?”
Lily looked puzzled. “What?”
“Abby’s old blocks.” Nell led the way to the family room, where she opened the chest and pulled out a box of brightly colored wooden blocks. Chase sat down and began happily pouring them out onto the floor and then reassembling them in structures meaningful only to him.
Nell turned to her sister. “Coffee? Soda?”
“No, thanks.” Lily looked lovingly at Chase. “But I could sure use a strong dose of adult conversation.”
Nell laughed as they both sat down on the sofa. “I remember that phase. Believe me, when he’s a teenager, you may long for diapers and wall-to-wall toys.”
“Ah, the joys of parenthood. Each phase has its own set of challenges, I guess.”
“Today I’m tempted to trade you mine for yours,” Nell said remembering Abby’s freeze-out yesterday.
Lily raised a brow. “Not our sweet Abby?”
“Our ‘sweet Abby’ and I are having issues.”
“Rick and Clarice?”
“She’s still not crazy about visiting them in Dallas, but it’s more than that. At the same time she wants to assert her independence and shove me away, she watches over my every move.”
Lily’s expression softened. “Can you blame her?”
Nell considered her sister’s question, knowing she meant it kindly, not judgmentally. “No. I put her…you…through some awful times. When I think what could’ve happened that night—”
“Shh. That’s all behind you.”
As if it could ever be behind her. Didn’t her sister get it? She lived with her mistakes every day. Nell struggled to keep her tone reasonable. “No, Lily, it will never be over and done with, but I try to deal with it in a healthy way. And today I’m worried about Abby. It’s as if she thinks she single-handedly has to make sure nothing changes.”
Lily leaned over and helped Chase restack the tower he’d toppled. “What are we really talking about?”
“Brady Logan.”
Lily’s head popped up and she turned to Nell. “That’s what Abby’s worried about?”
Nell nodded. “Before you start in, I want to be clear here. I don’t need Mother’s critical take on this right now.”
“And you think that’s what I’ll give you?”
No time like the present, Nell decided. “Do you have any idea how often it feels like the two of you gang up on me?”
Lily bristled. “Now, just a minute—”
Nell hurried on. “I realize you both mean well, but you know what I need most today? Not a mother or a sister, but a friend.”
“We ‘gang up’ on you?” Lily seemed genuinely puzzled.
“Sometimes.”
Lily touched Nell’s hand. “I’m sorry. I never realized you felt that way. It’s just that—” She paused as if considering her response, then gave a nod. “Okay. Today it’s friends.”
Nell gave her sister a brief hug. “I really want to know what you think about Brady and me. I can’t make any mistakes.”
“Well, I guess there are two ways of looking at the situation. Brady Logan could be an added complication in your life—”
“Which I certainly don’t need.”
“Or the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
“Lily, it’s not like that yet—”
“Your misguided, self-effacing modesty has never been one of your more attractive features. My God, the man’s crazy about you.”
Nell groaned. “Not you, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s more or less what Abby said.”
“Well, there. That proves it. Surely you see it.”
Nell felt trapped. “I…what he needs is a friend.”
Lily shot her a skeptical look. “But you’re at least thinking about more. You can only use that grieving widower defense so long. Honey, what that man needs is not merely a friend, but a healthy roll in the hay and a woman to love the daylights out of him. Now whether that’s a wise idea for you or not—”
Nell’s stomach moved into her throat. “That would be a big problem for me.”
Lily pulled Chase into her lap. “How long has it been?”
Nell averted her eyes, wishing she could pretend to misunderstand the question.
“Since Rick, huh?”
“Yes.”
“And that hardly counts, I imagine.”
Nell couldn’t let her sister know how close to the mark she’d come with that comment. “Lily, this isn’t about sex.”
“Oh, I agree. It’s not just about sex.”
Chase stuck his thumb in his mouth and settled against Lily’s shoulder, his big brown eyes fastened on Nell. “I don’t need a man in my life. In fact, I don’t need anything that would rock the boat.”
“I can understand why rocking the boat wouldn’t be desirable, now that you’ve gotten your act together. But do you think you can go through life never taking risks?”
“No. It’s just—”
“That you’re scared.”
“Terrified,” Nell managed to answer in a small voice.
“Now we’re getting somewhere! So you do like him.” Lily fingered Chase’s curls. “Beyond friendship.”
“Yes, I think I could.”
“And the problem is…”
“He doesn’t seem ready for more.”
“He’s still grieving. Give him time, honey. Maybe he’s ready and just doesn’t know it yet. Go on.”
“Then there’s Abby.”
“Abby’s a kid. She would adapt. Besides, she’ll be gone in five years. What then? You don’t have to be alone, you know.”
“It’s not that simple. I’ve been hurt once by a man. I don’t need those problems again.”
“I won’t pretend I’m not concerned about the potential for Brady to upset your equilibrium. But you deserve a chance for happiness. How many obstacles are you throwing in the path? Do you plan to play it safe your whole life?”
N
ell clenched her fingers. “If that’s what it takes to stay sober.”
Chase had fallen asleep nestled in Lily’s arms. Carefully she laid him on the sofa cushion between them. “I am so proud of you, Nell, and I grant you I’ve never experienced what you have, but I can’t believe the price for staying sober has to be the potential for happiness with Brady or someone like him. Abby will come around in time. It’s easy to dream up objections, but consider the possible benefits, too. For example, Abby sees Rick so infrequently, and Clarice, well, we don’t even need to discuss what kind of adult influence she is. Brady could be good for Abby, and for you.”
Lily wasn’t saying anything Nell hadn’t thought of in the dark of the night lying awake, alone. But it wasn’t that easy. Besides there was the tragedy in Brady’s life. She suspected his healing would take a long time.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Lily said when Nell didn’t respond. “Maybe the best thing is simply to follow your heart.”
Nell smiled wistfully. “Promise?”
Lily reached across her sleeping son and squeezed Nell’s hand. “Oh, yes, honey. I promise.”
Despite the fact she could be infuriating on occasion, Lily was Nell’s best friend. Her concern was evident. In the old bad days, Lily had been there for her, big time. And here she was again. Infusing Nell with support.
“What about Mother? She’s as protective of me as Abby is.”
“Leave Mom to me. This is one time she and I may not see eye to eye, although I understand the pitfalls she might be concerned about.”
Nell thought about Brady—his husky, warm laugh, his comforting hands, his kiss so full of tenderness and promise—and wondered if he could ever be hers.
“I won’t kid you. I’m still scared, but it has helped to talk about it. Now, before we change the subject, I’ll finish with one last thought.” She paused for dramatic effect. “I’m going for it with Brady.”
“Great. Just don’t dwell in fear. It isn’t helpful.”
Lily had that right. Fear had led Nell to the depths. She couldn’t afford to indulge it again.
BUZZ VALENTINE SHIFTED into low gear and steered his Dodge Ram down the steep, rutted track through the woods. Brady braced his feet and hung on to the passenger handlebar.
