A New Leaf

by Thomas Kinkade

  Did it make her think better of Phil? Only slightly. Did it make her trust him? Not one bit. If anything, it made her more wary. He was clearly trying to buy his way back into their lives, and she didn’t want to play right into his tricks.

  But he did owe her the money for child support, fair and square. And she did need it. So she folded up the check and put it in her purse so she could take it right to the bank tomorrow.

  The doorbell rang, and Molly realized it had to be Sam and Jessica. She’d forgotten all about them.

  She pulled open the door and let them in. “Hi, Moll.” Sam leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Gee, it smells good in here,” Jessica said, following him inside. “What are you making?”

  “I just charred a bunch of banana muffins. They look awful but still taste pretty good. Anybody hungry?”

  “No, thanks. We’re fine. Are the girls ready?” Sam said.

  Molly glanced at him. “They’re not here, actually. I know you won’t believe it, but they went out with Phil.”

  “Phil took them out? I didn’t even know you were speaking to him again.” As Molly expected, Sam looked amazed and confused by the news.

  “I’m not. I mean, I wasn’t. He just showed up here and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Then the girls found out he was here, and Jill almost started crying when I said, ‘No.’ I’m really sorry you had to come all the way over, but there was no way to reach you.”

  “I get the picture.” Sam shook his head. “A sneak attack. That’s Phil.” He glanced at Jessica who had taken a seat at Molly’s kitchen table and opened her gray wool coat.

  “He put you in a difficult position, asking right in front of the girls,” Jessica offered.

  “Exactly,” Molly replied, feeling Jessica understood the situation perfectly. “What could I say? He claims he’s changed. It’s all going to be different. He even gave me a check.” Molly pulled the check from her purse to show it to Sam.

  Sam looked impressed when he read the amount. He handed it back to her. “That’s a lot of money. Looks like he’s serious this time.”

  “Or just feeling more guilty than usual,” Molly noted. “I just hope he doesn’t pull one of his vanishing acts. I’d never forgive myself for giving in to him. I told him this was his last chance. If he fails those girls again . . . well, he’ll be sorry. Very sorry. I’ll figure out some way to teach him a lesson.”

  “Molly, please,” Sam coaxed her. “I know Phil wasn’t the model husband—or the model ex-husband, for that matter. But he’s not a monster. Maybe you should just relax a little and give him a chance. Maybe he’s finally ready to grow up and face his responsibilities. Some guys are a little slow. But it can happen.”

  “Right, like snow in July,” Molly said cynically. “I’ve heard all this before, Sam. Do you honestly think Phil Willoughby can ever change? I don’t.”

  “Anyone can change, Molly.” Sam shook his head. “You’re so negative sometimes. Especially about men. We’re not so bad, you know.”

  Jessica glanced at him. “Molly’s been through enough this morning, Sam. She doesn’t need a lecture about man bashing. She has every right to be concerned about the girls. Phil’s been totally unreliable. Why should she believe him now?”

  Molly was surprised to hear Jessica speak up on her behalf. Since the two had been married, she’d never heard Jessica and Sam disagree except about minor issues such as what color to paint the hallway. She’d never expect her brother to take Phil’s side and Jessica to defend her.

  Sam looked equally surprised. “No reason. Except to give the guy a break. That’s all I’m saying. Is he going to pay his child support again?” he asked Molly.

  “He says so. He has a new job selling cars or something.”

  “And apparently he’s doing well at it,” Sam added, nodding at the check.

  Molly and Jessica shared a doubtful look. “It shows he made some extra money lately and he was feeling guilty,” Molly said.

  Sam sighed. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “I guess we all just have to wait and see.”

  Molly nodded. “I guess so.”

  She wished her brother was more sympathetic to her side of the situation. But Sam was like that; he always gave a person the benefit of the doubt. Even someone like Phil. It was a good trait in general, Molly thought, but awfully annoying at the moment.

  As if guessing her thoughts, Sam reached over and gave Molly’s shoulder a reassuring pat. “I guess we ought to go. You have work to do. Come on, honey,” he said to Jessica.

  Jessica stood up from the table and joined her husband. “Okay. But we ought to stop over at my mother’s now for lunch.”

  Sam frowned. “I thought we ducked that invitation.”

  “Looks like it boomeranged.” Jessica took her husband’s arm as she turned toward Molly. “Emily brought Dan to my mother’s today after church. She could really use some reinforcements.”

  “Have some sympathy, Sam. Sounds like Dan is going to be your new brother-in-law,” Molly said.

  “Yeah, poor guy. I do feel sorry for him.”

  “Honey, please. My mother’s not that bad.” Jessica stared up at him.

  “No comment. Especially since we were just in church.” Sam grinned at Molly. He didn’t have to say anything more.

  Jessica’s mother was a tough old bird, notorious for her sharp tongue. She had thoroughly disapproved of Sam and had put so much pressure on Jessica, it had nearly broken up the match. The fact that Sam was able to joke about Lillian was actually to his credit, all things considered. Lillian Warwick would be more accepting of Dan, Molly thought, because of Dan’s stature in the town. Then again, she’d probably give him a hard time on sheer principle.

  “So long, Molly. Good luck with your work.” Sam touched her arm as he walked out.

  “Call if you need me to watch the girls this week, okay?” Jessica said.

  Jessica gave her a quick hug, and Molly found herself hugging back. She felt as if Jessica had understood how much Phil’s appearance had shaken her—understood and sympathized with her. That was the second surprise of the day.

  MOLLY WORKED ALL AFTERNOON AND INTO THE EARLY EVENING WITHOUT taking a break, mixing up batches of muffins and pies, running between two apartments to check on the cooking. Her next-door neighbor often went away on weekends, and she let Molly use her oven when she had to do a lot of baking.

  It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was the only way she could even attempt to fill such big orders. If she wanted to go into this business full-time, she’d definitely need some other arrangement. Right now she didn’t seem to have enough business to warrant renting out a real bakery or setting up a shop. But if she didn’t get a larger, more professional work space, she’d never be able to handle more business. It was a circular puzzle she couldn’t quite figure out.

  She didn’t have time to figure it out today, either. She didn’t even have time to eat a real meal, but she sampled her wares so often, it didn’t matter. She made a delivery to the Clam Box and another to the Beanery, a hip urban-style café in the village. Her last stop was a new client, the Pequot Inn, a fancy restaurant just outside of the village.

  Back home again, she worked on an order for a dozen quiches with different fillings, which she would somehow manage to fit into her refrigerator tonight and deliver early tomorrow morning to the Beanery.

  All the while she worked, Molly’s stomach was twisted into a knot. She worried about facing Phil again and what would happen next. Sam had advised her to give her ex-husband time to prove himself. But all Molly could think about was all the times in the past that Phil had hurt and disappointed her.

  Since they’d divorced seven years ago, Phil had never been a consistent presence for the girls or even consistent in sending support payments. He’d make an effort for a month or two, then the novelty of being a dad would wear off. He’d start missing his visits, calling at the last minute or, sometimes, not even calling at al
l. There were several times when they didn’t hear from him for months at a stretch, and he seemed to move around so much that Molly was never sure of his phone number and address. Once they didn’t hear from him for almost a year. Molly had learned through the grapevine that Phil had moved to Connecticut and tried to start a car-repair business with a friend. Again, he’d come back, insisting he’d changed, and he started visiting the girls and giving Molly support money. That was last winter. A little over a year ago, Molly realized.

  By the spring, his old pattern prevailed, and he’d stopped visiting and sending checks, though he did call to say hello to the girls from time to time. He’d called on Christmas, though he did not send them any gifts.

  He had probably taken them to the mall today, Molly thought. It would be typical Phil to try to make up for all the missed occasions in one extravagant shopping spree. The girls ought to be too old by now to fall for that tired trick. She was curious to see if it had worked this time. Curious and nervous. She didn’t like the feeling and resented Phil for still being able to upset her like this.

  Finally at a quarter past seven, she heard the doorbell ring, and she rushed to let them in. Lauren and Jill greeted her happily. They kissed Phil good-bye and went to their room.

  “Good night, girls. I’ll see you next week,” Phil called after them. He met Molly’s gaze. “That is, if it’s okay with you.”

  Molly was relieved to hear Phil already making plans to see the girls again, but she remained wary. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Well, a regular schedule, I guess. Two nights a week and every other weekend?”

  “You are trying to make up for lost time, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am,” he admitted. “If you’ll let me.”

  Molly’s first impulse was to answer in anger. No one had been stopping him all these months from seeing his daughters any time he pleased. But she remembered Sam’s words and held her tongue. It was hard to give Phil another chance, but she didn’t see that she had any other choice here.

  “Did you open my envelope?” he asked her carefully.

  She nodded. “I did. Thanks.”

  “I know it’s not everything. But it’s a start. I’m doing pretty well now. I can give you more than the regular amount as a sort of back pay, okay?”

  Molly nodded again. “That sounds all right.”

  “Listen, when we were talking this morning, there was something I forgot to tell you.”

  “Oh? And what was that?” She felt her nerves jump into emergency alert. Was this the part where Phil announces that he’s leaving for Australia in a few weeks? Or something equally impulsive and thoughtless, proving that he’d gotten the girls excited over nothing.

  “I wanted to tell you that I know now that I really screwed things up. I’m sorry for the things I did, the things I said to you. I was just . . . a fool. A total fool. I’m really sorry, Molly. I hope someday you can forgive me.”

  Molly was shocked by his admission and apology. But it would take more than remorseful words to heal the wounds from their marriage. Digging up their unhappy past was the last thing she wanted to do tonight.

  “That’s ancient history, Phil. It doesn’t matter to me now one way or the other.”

  He was quiet for a moment. At first she thought her harsh reply must have upset him, but when he spoke, she could tell he wasn’t mad—just ashamed of himself.

  “I know you don’t trust me anymore. I guess I deserve that. But I promise, I won’t let you down this time.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m immune to you. Just don’t disappoint Lauren and Jill.”

  “I understand.” He dipped his big blond head. “Good night, Molly. Good to see you again.”

  “Good night, Phil.” She stood at the doorway and watched him walk down the hall. She couldn’t say that it had been good to see him. It had been a shock, though. A real earthquake.

  Molly heard the girls in the bathroom getting washed up for bed. She knew they would bubble over in describing their day with him. Though she was curious to hear how it went, Molly wasn’t looking forward to hearing the girls sing his praises or show off all the presents he had bought them that she normally couldn’t afford. Alone in the kitchen, she stood by the counter and mindlessly ate a banana-chocolate-chip muffin, one of the rejects from the order that had overcooked this morning. The cat appeared from wherever she’d been sleeping and twined herself around Molly’s legs.

  Molly was so tired, not to mention tense and angry. Why should Phil be able to drop down out of the sky and pick up where he left off? It shouldn’t be so easy for him. It didn’t seem fair. She knew she shouldn’t still be mad at him for the way their marriage had ended. But she couldn’t help it. The check would come in handy, but she felt mad about that, too. Mad at herself for feeling bought off. She wished she didn’t need Phil’s money and could just rip up that check and toss it in his face.

  But the truth was she did need it. She was sure he could see that as soon as he walked in, but he was too smart to say anything. She was working hard but not doing all that well on her own. What was all this muffin baking and quiche making and backbreaking work adding up to anyway?

  Molly sometimes imagined herself having her own shop, with loads of people working for her. She’d sit up front and be the boss, organized and smartly dressed. But that was just a fantasy, an imaginary carrot dangling just beyond reach that helped her get through the drudgery. It gave her some hope, some inspiration. But it would never come true. Who was she kidding? She could never start her own business. She never went to college. She just didn’t have what it takes, the smarts and the confidence. Success took more than just making a good chocolate cake.

  Jill walked into the kitchen, dressed in her nightgown. “Look at what Daddy bought me.” She held out her arm, showing off a silver bracelet with a dangling heart charm. “He got one for Lauren, too. And some CDs and some other stuff. Want to see?”

  Molly forced a smile. “Sure, honey. I’ll be right in.”

  She put a dirty cup in the sink and shut off the kitchen light. Maybe she was lucky Phil had surfaced and would help out now. I’ll never do any better than this, Molly thought sadly. I’m a fool to try.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A“RE YOU SURE YOU’RE UP TO IT? YOU CAN SEE JUST AS WELL from the window in the kitchen.” Sophie stood by her husband’s wheelchair, which was parked in the living room, right next to his favorite armchair. He had the newspaper spread out on his lap, but it obviously wasn’t holding his interest this morning. Miranda, who stood nearby, cast Sophie a concerned look over her grandfather’s head.

  “I need some fresh air. Real air,” Gus insisted. “I’ve still got that blasted hospital smell in my nose. It’s driving me crazy.”

  Sophie felt worried. He had only come home on Tuesday, the day before yesterday. Since then he had spent most of his time in bed. But this morning he’d asked to get dressed in his real clothes, his trousers, suspenders, and flannel shirt. That was a good sign, she thought. Except for his sallow complexion and hollow eyes, he almost looked his old self. But going outside? She didn’t think that was a good idea. She glanced over at Miranda, who seemed to have the same reaction.

  “It’s cold out, Grandpa. It looks like it might snow any minute.”

  “Oh, that’s nothing. A little flurry maybe. Bundle me up like a mummy, you two, if it makes you feel any better. I don’t care. I want to go out and get some air.”

  Sophie sighed. Meeting her husband’s watery gaze, she realized they had come to a point when she couldn’t refuse him any request, no matter how extreme. Anything to please him now, to make the days he had left happier for him.

  “I’ll get his parka and scarf. Give him a thick sweater. That gray one on the chair in the bedroom should do.”

  Miranda nodded and disappeared to find the sweater while Sophie fetched the parka, scarf, and gloves from the mud room. They soon had Gus bundled up beyond recognition in his wheelchair. Sophie h
eard him chortling under the layers. “Where do you think you’re taking me, girls, on an expedition to the North Pole?”

  Miranda reached up and loosened his scarf. “Is that better?”

  “A little,” he conceded. “Okay, ready to roll.” He jauntily patted the side of the chair.

  Miranda pushed while Sophie went ahead and opened the doors. Gus was too weak to walk even the short distance from the bedroom out to the back porch. She could hardly believe it and willed herself not to cry.

  Once outside, Miranda turned the chair to give her grandfather a sweeping view of the orchard and, in the far distance, the village below and the sheltered harbor. The sky above was heavy and low, gray clouds promising snow.

  Miranda looked at Sophie. “Call me when you’re ready to come back in, Grandma. Don’t stay out here too long.”

  Sophie nodded. Her granddaughter understood that she and Gus needed some time alone right now. There were things to talk about, important things, with no time left to procrastinate.

  “Warm enough?” Sophie pulled up a chair and sat beside him.

  “Warm as toast,” Gus replied. He held out his gloved hand, and she took it in her own. “We’re sheltered from the wind back here, facing east. I see the snow coming down, though. It’s just starting.”

  Sophie saw it, too, fat white flakes that slowly drifted down from the sky as if shaken loose from a flock of doves.

  “I missed this place. It’s good to be home. I don’t want to go back to that hospital again.”

  “I know, dear. I don’t think you’ll have to,” Sophie said honestly. The best they could hope for now was that Gus would be able to die right here in the comfort of his own home.

  “In all the years since I came to live here, I don’t think I ever spent more than a night or two in a row away from the trees. Or apart from you.”

  “Not a handful, by my count. We were never big on vacations, were we?” She smiled at him. “There was always something to do around here.”