Because of Audrey

by Mary Sullivan

  “I didn’t tear down the greenhouse. I sent the equipment away.”

  She closed her eyes and screwed up her face into a tight ball. She murmured, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” a novena of gratitude.

  “I’m selling the land back to you.”

  “What?”

  “Same deal as you had with Dad.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t hurt you.”

  Leaning her head against his chest, she whispered, “I didn’t know who you were anymore. In the cave, you had a breakthrough, came back to yourself. Then you let Spade go through with taking my greenhouses away. I thought the boy I used to know was dead.”

  Maybe he had been for a while, for years, but Gray felt parts of his old self stirring, rousing back to life, and all because of Audrey Stone.

  “Just because I went into a cave doesn’t mean I’m cured. I’m a long, long way from healed, Audrey. But I’m getting better. I’m making decisions that won’t hurt the people around me as much.”

  To fully understand what had driven him to go so far, Audrey needed to meet Shelly and the children.

  “Do you have anyone coming in to pick up orders today? Can you close the store?”

  “Yes, I can close for the day. Why?”

  “We’re taking a day trip.”

  “Okay. Again, why?”

  “Can you wait for an explanation until we get there? Seeing with your own eyes would be better for you than anything I can say. You won’t believe me otherwise.”

  When she didn’t move quickly enough, he said, “Come on. Now. We need to go shopping.”

  “Shopping?” she echoed. “You’re behaving strangely.”

  They shopped at the organic market on Main Street, and Gray bought a lot of the same foods he’d picked up before at the convenience store on the corner of Shelly’s street.

  This time, here in this upscale store, they were better brands and cost a heck of a lot more than at the convenience mart. In addition to juice, cheese and cold cuts, he also bought treats, the kinds of things Shelly would never be able to afford for her children, like fresh cherries, chocolate and healthy chips made from sweet potatoes, beets and taro. Then, because Sam would hate him for buying healthy chips, he bought bright orange cheese balls. He purchased fresh fruits and vegetables. He picked up a whole roasted chicken and potato wedges.

  It felt good, amazing, fabulous to buy them food again, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to buy them toys. New toys.

  Throughout, Audrey watched him with curiosity but also restraint. She didn’t ask what the groceries were for. Maybe she thought he was filling his larder.

  She peered at him strangely, though, when he drove onto the highway that led to Denver.

  Just outside of the city, he stopped at a big-box department store and asked, “What would a four-year-old girl like? Pretty clothes? Dolls?”

  “What kind of girl is she?”

  “She’s perfect. Tiny and precious and lively.” He smiled. “She likes pretty things.” He described the flip-flops he’d bought and Tiffany’s squeal of delight.

  “So you want to buy her a present?”

  “I want to buy her a lot. She has nothing.”

  “I know exactly what to get. How much money do I have to spend?”

  Gray mentioned his top limit, which wasn’t a fraction as high as he really wanted to go, but he had to be smart. Inside the store Audrey picked up pretty clothes, but fall items rather than summer.

  “It’s only August,” he protested.

  “Which means she already owns summer clothes. She’ll need cold weather things.” She picked up a pink jacket and held it open. “A good lining to keep out autumn winds. Pretty, but also practical.”

  She found a turquoise leotard and a pink tutu and tiny pink leather ballet flats, and Gray could imagine Tiffany as a dancer. Maybe he should pay for ballet lessons.

  Whoa, don’t get ahead of yourself. You don’t know what kind of involvement Shelly wants you to have in their lives.

  It hurt to think she might not want him involved. His attitude toward them was shifting, from hostility to acceptance to a desire to be part of their lives, to almost an ownership of them as family. And he needed to be careful about that. Nothing had been settled for certain yet. They still barely knew each other.

  In the toy section, she picked up a Barbie doll and murmured, “I wish I had time to make doll clothes.” She looked at Gray. “I also wish they made a more realistic figure, without this huge bust and mile-long legs. Curves would be nice.”

  Audrey walked ahead of him, and Gray thought, curves are nice.

  “You know what? Let’s skip Barbie. Let’s get her books and puzzles and—look!” Audrey’s squeal was almost as high-pitched as Tiffany’s. “Fairy wings. Oh! Every girl needs fairy wings.” She placed the gauzy things on top of everything in the cart.

  “One last stop,” she said. He followed her to the boys’ toys and picked up a tiny suede tool belt filled with tools. “Every girl needs to learn to fix her own things. Look, here’s a little tool bench. Let’s get her that, too.”

  She looked over what she’d picked up and grinned. “I’ve spent all of your money. Let’s go.”

  “Not yet.” Now it was time to shop for Sam—a bike helmet, skateboard, ice skates and a heavy winter jacket.

  “I hate to do this,” he said, “but I guess I should get the kid clothes.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Nine.”

  “How big?”

  “Average.”

  “That’s a good jacket, but there will be four months when he’ll need something in between.”

  They picked up a fall jacket, sweaters and jeans, and a pair of Vans skateboarding sneakers.

  “Are these kids in need?” Audrey asked.

  “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Let’s get him a scarf, warm mittens and a hat.” She led him to the shoe department and spread her arm. “Winter boots.”

  “Good thinking.”

  Throughout it all, his heart grew bigger, stretching his chest to the max.

  “Okay,” she said. “Now, can we go?”

  “No.” What to do about Joe? He described Joe’s medical condition. “His mind is in perfect working order, but his body is failing. What do you buy a kid like that?”

  “How old?”

  “I think twelve.”

  She nodded and considered.

  “Okay, electronics. Can you afford an iPod?” When he nodded, she said, “An eReader or tablet?”

  He nodded again. They picked up an iPod and decided on a small tablet, because Gray didn’t know what kind of weight Joe could hold over an extended period of time, if he wanted to play games or read books. Gray loaded up with gift cards, so Joe could download from the internet.

  “You said these kids don’t have much. Do they have internet?”

  Gray swore. No. He charged everything to his credit card and then they went to an internet café to register the devices and download books and music while they ate.

  “What books should I get?”

  “Is he smart? Bright?”

  Gray shrugged, ashamed that he hadn’t paid attention. Was Joe often ignored by strangers because he wasn’t normal and didn’t look as easy to approach as other children?

  “Okay. Get The Hunger Games. All three. Also, there’s an author who’s perfect for his age. Gary Paulsen. Get everything, but especially Hatchet.”

  They scoured websites until they found more books and also added half a dozen games.

  Then they turned to music and downloaded a lot, using the gift cards Gray had bought.

  Joe had no one to show off for, no peers to whom he had to relate by listen
ing to the right music, so Gray was free to choose music according to what he thought Joe might like. As much as he could guess, anyway, without knowing the boy.

  They downloaded Maroon 5, Mac Miller, AWOLNATION, Classified, and then, because Gray loved them, he threw in AC/DC and Led Zeppelin.

  “Time to go.” Gray packed up the electronics. “We have one more stop.”

  They visited a holistic store where Gray picked up supplements that were supposed to help people with Duchenne. He’d researched extensively online. No way would Shelly be able to afford this stuff on her own. His credit card groaned when he used it again. This would have to be it. No more treats for Shelly’s family for a while.

  When Gray parked in front of Shelly’s house, Sam rode up on his bike and watched them get out.

  Gray held out his fist, and he and Sam bumped knuckles, watching Gray with a speculative expression.

  “Who are you?”

  Gray understood he wasn’t asking his name, but exactly how he fit into Sam’s small orbit. So...Shelly hadn’t told the children anything.

  “I’ll explain inside.”

  He took the groceries out of the trunk and carried them to the front door. The boy followed.

  Sam opened the door and called, “Mom.”

  Shelly stepped out of the living room. Gray turned to introduce her to Audrey and realized that Audrey hadn’t come in.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  HE WENT OUTSIDE and spotted her leaning against the car, skin ashen, and approached her. “Uncanny how much he looks like me as a kid, isn’t it?”

  Audrey glanced over his shoulder toward the house. All but Joe stood on the veranda, watching. Eyes bleak, but a spark flaring, she asked, “You expect me to just accept this?”

  “Yes. It is what it is.”

  “You want to introduce me to your family?”

  “Yes. That’s why we’re here today.”

  “And you make them live in squalor?”

  “I’m trying to fix that. It’s why I needed to sell the land, but I’ve come up with a different plan.”

  She marched away down the sidewalk.

  “Hey!” He ran after her, but she refused to stop walking. He grabbed her arm, but she pulled out of his grasp as though he were infectious. “What’s wrong? I know it’s a shock, but—”

  “That’s what you call this?” She rounded on him. “A shock? You call kissing me and pretending to have loved a fiancée in Boston while having fathered someone else’s kids a shock? It’s a travesty. It’s dishonest. You couldn’t have shared that with me? Is she your wife? Or is she just a mistress?”

  Gray’s jaw dropped. “You think Sam is my son?”

  “Isn’t he? How else do you explain the resemblance to you?”

  “He’s my nephew.”

  She frowned. “You don’t have siblings.”

  “Apparently, I do. I have a half sister.”

  “But that’s not possible. That would mean that your dad...or your mom...”

  “My dad. Mom doesn’t know.”

  “How old is she?”

  “A couple of years older than me.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “It took me a while, too. Come meet them.”

  He took her elbow to urge her toward the house, but she resisted.

  “Harrison would never have cheated on Abigail. He has always loved her. I refuse to accept this.”

  “Dad’s name is on the birth certificate.”

  “Anyone can put anything on one of those. This is impossible.”

  “It’s true, Audrey.”

  “Your dad wouldn’t have done that to Abigail. If he adored her a fraction as much when she was young as he does now, he couldn’t have fooled around.”

  “She has my smile.”

  Confused, Audrey asked, “Abigail?”

  “Shelly. My sister. Half sister. She has the exact same smile as me.”

  He’d managed to get her as far as the pathway to the house, but Audrey balked, staring at Shelly as though she were an interloper, the first sign Gray had seen that Audrey’s generosity had limits.

  Worse, the glare Audrey directed toward Shelly could cut steel, shatter glass. Audrey wasn’t angry. She was furious. In her denial, she was taking it all out on Shelly.

  But it should have been directed toward Dad. He was the real culprit. So, why did she, and Gray himself, find it so hard to do? To place blame where it truly belonged? Because it was impossible to turn your back on a lifetime of love and admiration.

  “Audrey,” he said, voice low and urgent, “do this for me. Keep an open mind for me. I’ve only just found out I have a sister.”

  He ran his finger along her drum-tight jaw. “Relax. Please. I’ve given you precious little reason to trust me, but I’m asking you to now.”

  He kissed her. “You helped me in the caves. I need your help again.”

  She softened. “I’ll try.”

  At the steps, Gray said, “Audrey, I’d like you to meet Shelly Harper. Shelly, my friend, Audrey.”

  Shelly stuck out her right hand and smiled. Gray watched Audrey, saw the moment that she understood that smile was indeed his. She shook Shelly’s hand and braved a returning smile, but only Gray realized what it cost her. Underneath her bravery was a certain defeat in accepting that this woman truly was Harrison’s daughter.

  With a despair he hadn’t anticipated, he witnessed the death of Audrey’s innocence. He should have warned her. In bringing her here, in wanting to expiate, to explain his actions, he’d hurt her. He should have kept her as ignorant about this as he had his mother.

  Only now did he realize how much he cared for Audrey, and that her pain was his. He should have protected her from this every bit as much as he was protecting his mother.

  They trooped into the house, and Audrey sat in an armchair. Shelly propped Joe up with cushions, so he didn’t take up the entire sofa. Gray sat beside him.

  Shelly offered refreshments. “I don’t have coffee, but I can offer...” She trailed off, perhaps realizing that water was all she had.

  “You have coffee,” Gray said. “I brought some. Sam, can you get the bags I left in the hallway?”

  Sam carried them in. Shelly didn’t look happy, and Gray realized how much easier on both of them the charity had been the first time when it was anonymous, when he wasn’t here to witness her acute and real loss of pride.

  Shelly might not have any pride left when it came to begging or blackmailing for her children, but accepting this was hard on her nonetheless.

  Gratified that Audrey noticed her embarrassment, that maybe Audrey wouldn’t suspect Shelly of being a gold digger, Gray took the bags from Sam and rummaged through them until he found the coffee and handed it to her. “I’d love a cup, it you don’t mind.”

  Shelly looked at Audrey, who hadn’t yet lost her cold shield, but who nodded nonetheless.

  Gray handed the bags to Sam. “There’s cream and sugar in there, too.”

  “You didn’t have to do this,” Shelly said, “but thank you.”

  “Shelly,” Gray said quietly, halting her progress from the room, “I really enjoyed doing it.”

  Shelly smiled. “Thanks...bro.”

  Bro. Brother. Holy cow.

  Shelly and Sam left the room, and he heard her putting things away. Moments later, he smelled coffee brewing.

  Tiffany sat on a tiny stool in the corner, staring at Audrey, studying every aspect of her from her toes to the top of her hair. Audrey wore her springtime-on-steroids dress again today, the red flowers popping against the deep yellow, and the yellow crinoline rustling when she crossed her legs.

  Shelly returned with a plastic tray and three steaming cups. They doctored their coffees.r />
  The silence stretched, and Gray had no idea how to break it, how to ease Audrey’s shock and anger. He was coming to terms with what a monumental mistake this had been when Tiffany came to the rescue. As had happened with him on his first visit, she was the icebreaker, the melter of hearts, disarming with her big eyes that cut through resistance straight to affection.

  She stood and smiled at Audrey, patting the armchair beside her and cocking her head to one side. “I can sit here?”

  Gray watched Audrey fall, realized the moment when she lost her heart, and recognized that she would eventually accept all of this.

  Audrey squished to one side of the chair, and Tiffany squeezed in beside her with those cheap little flip-flops he’d bought her still on her feet. Had she taken them off at all since he’d bought them?

  “Does she sleep in those?”

  Shelly laughed. “Almost. She won’t wear anything else on her feet.”

  Tiffany fingered Audrey’s dress and the inch of crinoline showing at the hem. With one tiny finger, she traced the beads of Audrey’s bracelet. “Pretty.”

  Audrey glanced at Gray with a wry, but still wary-around-the-edges acceptance, and said, “Get the rest of the bags from the car.” A quiet but firm command.

  Gray grinned and followed orders, taking Sam with him. Back inside, he handed out the gifts.

  Tiffany, of course, squealed multiple times, making everyone laugh.

  When Sam saw all of his gifts, he high-fived Gray and fist-pumped the air.

  “Mom, I got a helmet.”

  Gray squatted in front of Joe. “We brought gifts for you, too. Do you want to see them?”

  While the other two children had opened their gifts, squealing, clapping, whooping and hollering, Joe hadn’t said a word, almost as though he’d thought the world had already dished out all it had to offer him, and there wasn’t any more coming. Ever.

  When Gray mentioned there were gifts for him, a lopsided grin split his face, and he nodded, too vigorously, setting himself off-balance.

  Gray’s vision threatened to mist over. He blinked hard and righted the boy, pushing the cushions in more tightly to bolster him, then retrieved the bags with Joe’s goodies in them.