by Linda Reilly
A car Lara didn’t recognize was parked in the driveway behind the Saturn.
And standing on the doorstep, a pile of gaily wrapped packages in her arms, was Brenda Caphart-Rice.
AKA Mom.
Chapter 17
Lara clutched the doorframe. She peered at her mother through the storm door. “Mom? What are you doing here? I mean...we didn’t expect you!”
The woman standing on the doorstep shot an exasperated look at her daughter. “Lara, for criminy’s sake, will you please open the door? It’s freezing out here, and if I don’t set these down I’m going to drop them.”
“Yes! Gosh, sorry.” Lara swung open the storm door and relieved her mother of the boxes. Balancing them with one arm, she grasped the sleeve of her mother’s faux-leopard coat with the other and yanked her inside, shutting the door tightly behind her.
“What the—” Brenda sputtered, nearly stumbling into the foyer.
“Sorry, Mom. We have one cat who’s always trying to escape, so we have to be careful about opening doors.” She set the boxes on the floor behind one of the chairs.
Brenda rolled her blue-lined eyes. “Figures. Why don’t you just let it go out? It’s a cat, isn’t it?”
“Our cats don’t go out,” Lara said, striving to keep her tone even. Her mother was not a fan of cats, so it wasn’t a subject Lara wanted to get into with her. “But you...you look great! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“I didn’t know myself, until two days ago.” Brenda peeled off her coat and handed it to Lara, who quickly hung it in the foyer closet. The last thing Lara needed was one of the cats to use it as a cozy bed.
“Thank you,” Brenda said. “Is it okay if I keep these on?” She stuck out a brown, salt-encrusted boot.
“Sure, whatever you’re comfortable in.”
“I’m comfortable in a climate that’s about fifty degrees higher,” Brenda said tartly.
Lara gritted her teeth.
“Whew! Now that I’ve got my coat off, it’s warm in here, isn’t it?” Brenda pushed up the sleeves of her western-style red sweater, revealing evenly tanned arms. A chunky, turquoise bracelet encircled her right wrist, and a gold, chain-link watch dangled from the other. “Do I at least get a hug?”
“Oh, Mom, of course you do,” Lara said. She gave her mother a clumsy squeeze, the cloying scent of gardenias curling around her.
After a few awkward seconds, Brenda pushed back on Lara’s arms. “You look...really lovely, Lara. How long has it been, anyway? At least a couple years, right?”
Lara knew exactly how long. It would be two years in January.
She stepped back and studied her mom’s face. Brenda’s once auburn hair was now dyed to a straw-like blond. Worn long and loose, it framed Brenda’s thin, sun-darkened face. Her blue eyes had faded a bit. A hint of sadness lurked in their depths.
Lara still recalled that wintry day when she’d escorted her mom and one of her mom’s gal pals in a taxi to Logan Airport. They were catching an afternoon flight to Vegas for a week of fun, food, and gambling. One week later, the gal pal had returned sans Brenda, who’d been swept off her feet by a self-proclaimed country music virtuoso. Brenda married Rodney Rice three weeks later.
“Nearly two years, Mom,” Lara said. “Hey, let me tell Aunt—”
“Brenda?”
Brenda whirled her head toward the voice. Her face pinched, and she twisted her hands. “Yes, Fran, it’s me. Did you think you’d never see me again?”
Fran came into the large parlor and went over to Brenda. “How wonderful to see you. I had no idea you were planning a visit.”
“Like I told Lara, neither did I until a few days ago. Rodney has a buddy in Portsmouth who has a gig every weekend at one of the high-end hotels. He invited us to join him.”
Aunt Fran looked stymied. “A gig? What kind of gig?”
“Rodney’s bud is with the Greenhorn Geezers,” Brenda said. “You probably heard of them. They play light country, some bluegrass, stuff like that. We heard they’re quite the attraction in this area.” After a long pause she said, “Anyway, Rod and I”—she grinned, and her eyes sparkled—“we’re going to be guest performers.”
Performers? Since when had her mom had any musical talent? As for the Greenhorn Geezers, Lara had never heard of them, but that didn’t mean much. Portsmouth was on the seacoast, and she didn’t get out that way very often.
Lara waved her hand at the sofa. “Sit, Mom, and you can tell us all about it. Can I get you something to drink?”
Brenda eyed the sofa. “Is there cat hair on it?”
“Anything’s possible. But I vacuumed it this morning, so you should be safe.”
Smoothing her black slacks, Brenda sat carefully and perched on the edge. “Since you asked, I wouldn’t mind a cup of hot chocolate, if you have any. With lots of whipped cream.”
“We can do that,” Aunt Fran said. “Be right back.” She dashed into the kitchen.
“She never changes, does she?” Brenda said with a tight expression.
Lara felt herself tensing. The old rivalry her mom had always imagined between the two was rearing its ugly green head.
“If she changes, it’s only for the better,” Lara said. “She had both knees replaced this past year. I swear it took twenty years off her.”
Munster strolled into the room, followed by Purrcival. Both cats stared up at Brenda, no doubt trying to fathom if she was friend or foe. Since everyone was a friend to Munster, he didn’t hesitate to leap up on the sofa and plant himself beside her.
Brenda jumped up. “Oh, for the love of God, Lara. Look at that orange fur. I just had these pants cleaned. Can’t you move him into another room and keep him there?”
Every nerve in Lara’s body wanted to snap. For a brief second or two, she thought about sequestering the cats on the back porch for the duration of her mother’s unexpected visit. Then she bolted to her senses. This was their home, their shelter.
“Munster, Purrcy, sit with me, okay?” Lara lured them over to the oversized chair and pulled them into her lap. Lara thanked her lucky stars that both cats seemed content to chill with her for a while.
Brenda looked appeased, at least for the moment. She sat down again. “I see you’ve turned this place into a shelter,” she said flatly. “I saw the sign outside.”
“We did, nearly a year ago.” Lara smiled at the two felines curled in her lap. “It’s been a blessing, for everyone involved. We’ve already rescued a number of cats, and—”
“Cats, shmats,” Brenda said. “Tell me about you. Do you have a boyfriend?”
Lara breathed in slowly, then out again. She needed to calm herself. Her mom would never change, so it was best to simply accept it and move forward.
“I’m seeing someone, yes,” Lara said. “In fact, you might remember him. Gideon Halley. He was in my class at school.”
Brenda thought for a moment, then said, “God, yes. Skinny, nerdy-looking kid, right? Black hair? What’s he doing now, selling pocket protectors?” She laughed as if she’d made a hilarious joke. When she saw Lara’s face, she waved a hand at her. “Come on, Lara. I was only kidding. Don’t look so serious.”
Lara felt her blood boil over. What century was this woman living in?
“Mom, I’m sorry, but that was really unkind of you. Gideon is a wonderful, thoughtful, generous man.”
Brenda’s smile withered. “Honey, look—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that. I’m sure he’s very nice. Cute, too, I hope.”
Lara swallowed back a lump of anger. She’d had enough.
Aunt Fran returned with Brenda’s hot cocoa. She handed the mug to Brenda. “Be careful. Under all the cream it’s steaming hot.”
“Aunt Fran, do you still keep those letters in your bedroom closet?” Lara said, lifting both cats and setting them
on the floor.
Her aunt stared at her for a moment, then suddenly understood. “No, Lara, don’t,” she pleaded. “It’s water under the bridge.”
“I don’t care if it’s under, over, or inside the bridge. I’m showing them to her.”
Before her aunt could utter a further protest, Lara trotted up the stairs. She marched into Aunt Fran’s bedroom and opened her closet door. The letters were exactly where her aunt had left them after she’d first shown them to Lara—on a top shelf inside a gold-speckled cardboard box.
Lara grabbed the box and carried it back downstairs. Her mom and Aunt Fran looked like a pair of deer caught in glaring headlights.
“Lara, please, this isn’t necessary,” Aunt Fran said in a shaky voice.
“I’m sorry, but it is necessary.” Lara plopped the box on the sofa next to her mom. She lifted the lid and pulled out a handful of letters. “How do you explain these, Mom?”
Brenda stared at the letters, and her face paled. She pressed her fingers to her lips, then her eyes filled with tears. With a hand more wrinkled than Lara remembered, her mom reached toward the letters. “I—I sent them back. I didn’t let you see them.” With that she burst into a round of tears, crying so loudly that Munster and Purrcy fled into the kitchen.
Aunt Fran quickly retrieved the hot cocoa from Brenda so that she wouldn’t spill it and burn herself. Then she looked at Lara and shook her head. After setting the cocoa on the fireplace mantel, she sat down next to Brenda and placed a hand on her back.
With that, Lara broke into a sob. She hadn’t intended to hurt her mom, not like this. But she had to let her know that she knew about the letters.
Aunt Fran rose. She retrieved Brenda’s hot chocolate from atop the mantel, then strode over and opened the door to the back porch. “I want both of you in here,” she instructed in her stern, schoolteacher’s voice. “You need to talk. I’ll close the door so you won’t have any cats in there with you.”
Brenda lifted her teary gaze to Lara. “Okay,” she said meekly and nodded.
The two went onto the back porch. Aunt Fran closed the door, grabbing Valenteena just in time before she scooted into the room.
Brenda giggled through her tears. “I think that black-and-white one wanted to join us.”
“She did.” Lara chuckled and swiped at her eyes. “Come on, Mom. You and I need to talk.”
Chapter 18
Brenda twisted a tissue in her fingers. “I don’t have any excuses, Lara. You were always closer to Fran than you were to me. I...I guess I was jealous of your relationship.”
Instinctively, Lara had always known that. Even as a kid, she’d noticed the tiny barbs Brenda had inflicted on her only sister-in-law. They seemed to come out of nowhere, without warning. And for no reason. Lara had dealt with it the only way she knew how—by painting pictures and bonding with Aunt Fran’s cats.
Lara blotted her eyes with her own tissue. “You know, Mom, I never really understood something. Why did you and Dad move to Mass? You both seemed happy here. Lord knows I was happy. I never got why we had to move.”
“It was me,” Brenda said hoarsely. “It was all my fault. I nagged at your father until he finally gave in. I knew he’d make a lot more money at the new job. I told him he had to do it—for us, for the family.”
Lara was stunned at her mother’s admission. It wasn’t like her to confess to anything negative about herself. Maybe this was a catharsis for her. She smiled at her mom. She wanted to understand—she really did.
“Okay, I guess I can see that. You were thinking about the future. You wanted the best for all of us. But it was a pressure-cooker job, Mom. Even I could tell Dad hated it.”
“I know.” Brenda cried again, then pressed her mangled tissue to her eyes. “After you went off to art school, he changed jobs. By then it was too late. He was already getting sick. We didn’t realize it then, but he didn’t have that long to go.”
A lump settled in Lara’s throat. She still missed her dad. Every day. Colon cancer had been the enemy, her dad’s early death the result.
“I’m so sorry about the letters. I thought”—Brenda swallowed—“I thought if you were cut off from Fran, that eventually you’d forget about her. Then you and I could be better friends.”
Lara shook her head. She didn’t need Brenda to be her friend. She needed her to be her mom.
And she still didn’t understand why her dad had gone along with it. Aunt Fran was his only sister, and they’d always been close.
As if she’d read Lara’s mind, Brenda said, “I know it made your father unhappy. Sometimes I wish he hadn’t been so passive, but he went along with pushing Fran out of our lives. He did it for me. That’s all I can say.”
Because he didn’t have the strength to fight you any longer, Lara wanted to retort. Elbows on the table, she dropped her face into her cupped fingers. She willed herself to stop crying.
A whoosh of air tickled her fingers. She lifted her gaze to see Blue sitting on the table, one paw resting on her mother’s arm.
The past is the past. Live for the present.
Lara heard the voice clearly. Where had it come from?
Heart thrumming, she pulled in a deep, calming breath. She couldn’t even imagine what her mom would say if Lara told her there was a spirit cat sitting next to her. And that her paw was touching her, cat hair and all.
In the next moment, Brenda looked all around the room and smiled. “It’s so pretty in here. I’ll bet you did all the artwork.”
That simple compliment felt like the warmest of hugs. “I did, in fact. This room is where we introduce people to cats and try to match them up. I wanted it to be as charming and as welcoming as possible.”
Brenda looked at her daughter, fresh tears resting on her blue-tinted lashes. Lara’s heart turned over. In the short time since her mom had arrived, she’d aged. She looked every bit of her forty-nine years.
“Honey, I know you’re passionate about cats. And I’m sorry I could never look at them the way you do. But I should have been more understanding.”
“It’s okay, Mom. Not everyone’s a cat lover. I get that. Honestly I do.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.” Brenda sniffled, and then her damp eyes lit up. “Oh, Lara, I can’t wait till you meet Rodney. I know it sounds weird, me going to Vegas and falling in love the second day. It’s just that...Rod and I are so right for each other, you know? We both saw it right away.”
And got hitched three weeks later in a Vegas chapel.
“I only want what’s best for you, Mom. I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” Brenda said softly. “And...I’m so, so sorry about those letters. I broke your heart. I had no right to do that.”
You broke more than one heart, Lara wanted to say. But as her aunt had pointed out, it was water under the bridge.
Everything her mom was saying was what Lara had been waiting to hear. Still, she couldn’t help wondering if the fluffy Ragdoll with the turquoise eyes might have had something to do with Brenda’s sudden unburdening of the soul.
Brenda tilted her head playfully. “You’re going to love Rod—I just know it. He really is a good man. Just to show you how sweet he is, know what he did a few months ago?” She chirped like a teenager. The real Brenda was back.
“Nope. You tell me.”
Looking more at ease now, Brenda said, “Well, his mom, Gracie, was dying—she was eighty-three—and she had to go into the nursing home for hospice care. The place was kind of a dump, but the hospice people were wonderful.”
“Sorry to hear about Rod’s mom,” Lara said.
“Thanks. Anyway, Gracie had this dog, a fussy little poodle named Curly. Poor Gracie—she kept asking for the dog. It nearly broke Rod’s heart, you know?” Brenda lowered her voice. “Gracie didn’t have much time left, a day or two at the most. Rod
asked the nursing home if he could bring Curly to see her one last time before she...you know.”
“Did they let him?”
“They finally did, after Rod called them twenty times. Oh, and it just made Gracie’s day. Curly got right in the bed with her and cuddled up. It was so sweet. Couple of the nurses didn’t like it, but too bad about them, right?”
Blue, who so far hadn’t budged from her cozy spot next to Brenda, inched closer to Lara.
“Right,” Lara said distractedly, “too bad about them.”
Was that what happened to the old woman in the nursing home? Had someone brought her cat there to comfort her in her final hours?
Brenda waved a hand in front of Lara’s face. “Hey, you okay? You look a little spacey.”
“I’m fine, Mom. What happened to Curly? I mean, after Gracie passed.”
Brenda lowered her gaze. “Rod and I didn’t really want a dog—well, I didn’t— plus they’re not allowed in our condo. Rod was going to bring her to a shelter, but then Gracie’s neighbor offered to take her. Nice old lady. She already had a dog, but she said Curly would keep it company.” She shrugged and smiled. “Far as we know, it’s worked out great.”
“Wow, that was lucky.”
Brenda stood abruptly. “Honey, I’ve really got to get going. Rod’s going to think I got lost or something.” She flashed a nervous smile. “Those presents? In the living room? They’re just a few things we picked up for you in Vegas. Rod even picked out one of them especially for you. He insisted.”
“Thanks, Mom. If we ever get a chance to put up our tree, I’ll tuck them all underneath.”
Lara rose from her chair. She hugged Brenda again, this time longer and harder. When she felt her mom pull away, Lara released her. She looked down at the table and smiled. Blue was gone.
“Mom, I’m so glad you came here today. In the future don’t be such a stranger, okay?”
