by Brenda Novak
“You’re thinking too much. Let’s keep it simple, okay?”
“How?”
“You feel the need to talk to Keith, to be around him, so we’ll do that—for a while.”
“The last time I saw him, we were happy,” she explained. “We were both smiling and waving goodbye as he drove off to take Mica to gymnastics class. I keep thinking…if only I could see him again, speak to him face-to-face…maybe he’ll be able to give me the answers I need, help me figure out why.”
Her complete bewilderment made Isaac want to break Keith’s jaw. “Let’s stay until our lease is up,” he said. “If you still hate it, we’ll figure out Plan B.”
She lifted her chin. “Okay. Six months.”
He squeezed her shoulders. “Nothing’s going to feel good right now, Liz. Nothing, okay?”
“I know.”
The doorbell rang. “That’s Fred,” he said. “I’ll get it.”
“Wait.” She grabbed his arm again.
“What?”
“You haven’t given him or anyone else my name, have you?”
“No, I rented the house in my own name. Why?”
“Because I don’t want Reenie to know I’m here yet.”
“She’s going to find out soon enough, Liz.”
“I just…I need to talk to Keith first. Okay?”
“And say what?”
“I deserve that much, Isaac. One last private conversation with the man I married before I face the hatred of the whole community.”
He couldn’t argue with her there. “You don’t have to worry about me. I won’t volunteer the information to anyone.”
She nodded and seemed to relax a bit. “Good.”
A dispute over the Ping-Pong game sent Liz hurrying downstairs while he strode through the empty living room and opened the door. But if it was Fred, he was an excellent cross-dresser. A short, plump woman with dark hair, who had to be close to sixty, stood on the porch next to a large wicker basket.
“Hello,” she said brightly. “I hope you don’t mind my barging in on you so soon.”
“Not at all.”
“Fred told me you’d arrive this afternoon, so I’ve been watching for you,” she explained with a genuine smile. “I wanted to be the first to welcome you to the neighborhood.”
Welcome them? Isaac straightened in surprise. Her simple gesture sure felt good. “Thank you.”
“Moving is so difficult. I thought it might make things a little easier for you if I provided dinner tonight.” She handed the basket to him. “There’s a casserole inside you’ll need to heat up before you eat. But the rest is ready.”
He could smell cake as he set the basket inside the door. “Smells great,” he said. “We really appreciate your generosity.”
“It’s no trouble.”
“Which house is yours?”
“The one across the street.” She motioned to the elegant house he’d noticed earlier. “My husband and I live alone now. We have two children, but they’re all grown.”
“Your home is lovely.”
“I enjoy decorating almost as much as I enjoy company,” she confided. “We’ll have you over as soon as you get settled.”
“We’d like that.”
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Isaac Russell. And you are…”
“Celeste Holbrook.”
“Holbrook?” he repeated, his voice going high on the last syllable.
Faced with his stunned reaction, she hesitated briefly. “Yes, my husband’s in the state senate, so he’s in Boise a lot. But if you ever need anything, I’m usually home.”
“You’re very kind,” he muttered, but he wasn’t concentrating on his words. He was picturing this woman’s beautiful daughter—as she’d looked the night they’d had dinner together, and then later, when he’d had to tell her about her husband.
If Celeste was surprised or confused by the sudden drop in Isaac’s enthusiasm, she didn’t let it show. She had impeccable manners and simply interpreted his response as her cue to leave. “Well, I don’t mean to keep you. I know how busy you and your wife must be.” She reached into the pocket of her wool coat and withdrew a piece of paper, which she handed to him. “I typed up some information that should be useful.”
He thought of Liz in the basement, and her desire to lie low for a few days, as he read what Celeste had provided. She’d listed the day they had garbage pickup, directions to the grocery store and post office, even the number to Ernie’s Lawn & Garden Maintenance.
“My number’s on the bottom,” she said. “Call me if you think of anything else I can do. I noticed you have children. I’m a good babysitter,” she added with a wink.
He didn’t correct her impression that he was the husband and father of the family. “Thanks,” he said again. Then he closed the door and pressed two fingers to his forehead. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
Isaac lowered his hand to find Liz watching him from the other side of the room. “We just moved in across the street from Reenie’s parents.”
* * *
REENIE SAT in the corner booth at the Arctic Flyer, toying with the ice-cream sundae Lucky had insisted on buying for her and trying to keep Lucky’s baby from squirming out of the high chair. Reenie would have met her half sister at Jerry’s Diner, where they got together for lunch nearly every week, but word had it that Keith’s mother was looking for her. Earlier, Reenie had ducked two of Georgia’s calls at home—and slipped out the back of Hannah’s photography studio the moment she spotted her mother-in-law coming in the front. She simply wasn’t prepared for more of what her own mother had already dished out: Are you sure you don’t want to give Keith another chance? What would it hurt to wait a few months before making a decision? You’re letting hurt and anger rule your head. Why does everything have to happen so fast?
More than anything, Reenie didn’t want to explain to Keith’s mother that she’d already filed for divorce a week ago. Admitting that she was ending her marriage would make it more difficult to keep what had happened a secret because she would face the inevitable “Why?”
But maybe Georgia wanted to talk to her because she already knew about the divorce. Keith could’ve received the papers this morning, Reenie mused. According to the attorney, if Keith signed them without raising any other issues, everything could be final in three more weeks.
If he’d received the papers, Keith would be after her instead of his mother.
“I tried getting hold of your mom to see if she’d like to join us, but she wasn’t home,” Lucky said when she finally joined Reenie in the booth, carrying a chocolate-dipped ice-cream cone in one hand and a stack of napkins in the other.
“She was probably at her new neighbor’s,” Reenie said. “They arrived a couple hours ago, while she and I were on the phone, and she hurried off so she could deliver them dinner.”
Sabrina squealed for a bite of Lucky’s ice cream, and Lucky promptly held it to the child’s cherubic mouth. “Celeste is so nice,” she said.
“Yeah, a real saint.” Reenie couldn’t help the sarcasm that entered her voice. She admired her mother. But there were times—like the past three weeks—when she wished Celeste could be a little less angelic. Reenie had enough things working against her right now without having to hear about Keith’s pain, which was all her mother seemed capable of talking about. Just because Reenie chose not to weep in front of everyone, Celeste assumed her daughter could withstand anything.
Lucky frowned as she watched Reenie destroy her sundae. “You used to like those.”
Not anymore. Nothing tasted the way it used to. “I told you I didn’t want it. It’s too cold for ice cream.”
“Are you kidding?” Lucky said. “If Harvey heats this place up any more, he’ll have to serve his ice cream in mugs.”
Outside, the wind bent the trees and rattled through the eaves. Reenie thought they might get the first snow of the year. But Lucky was right—it wa
s plenty warm inside. “I guess I’m not hungry.”
Lucky held her baby’s hand to keep Sabrina from knocking the cone to the ground. “You don’t have to be hungry to eat ice cream. What have you had today?” she asked. “I mean as far as meals go.
“I don’t know,” Reenie said.
“Have you eaten?”
“Probably.”
“Probably? It’s after two.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Packing, mostly.”
Lucky hesitated, then wiped the chocolate from Sabrina’s chubby face. “When will you be moving to the farm?”
Reenie was grateful for the change of subject. She’d already heard enough about how she wasn’t taking care of herself from just about everyone she knew. “Not for a few more weeks. It’ll take that long for escrow to close.”
“Can I help you pack?”
“No.”
At this unequivocal response, Lucky sat back and arched an eyebrow at her. “No?”
Sabrina began to pound the table of her high chair, so Reenie gave her another bite of ice cream. “Packing gives me something to do,” she explained. She’d already scrubbed the house from top to bottom, reorganized the closets and cleaned out the garage.
“Your mother told me you’re planning to go back to work.”
“I am. I don’t have any choice.”
“You could always go job hunting while I pack for you.”
Reenie continued to stir her sundae. “I’ve already got a job.”
Lucky’s hand froze halfway to her baby’s mouth. “Really?”
“I’ll be teaching math at the high school.”
“That was quick,” she said, bringing the spoon the rest of the way when Sabrina squealed.
“They’ve been looking for someone to replace Mrs. Merriweather for two years, so it was easy.”
“Mrs. Merriweather? She was an old battle-ax when I had her in high school. Don’t tell me she died.”
Lucky had been back in town for only a year or so, but she’d grown up in Dundee and, like Reenie, had attended Dundee High. Because she was a few years younger, they hadn’t hung out together. Reenie doubted they would’ve been friends, anyway. Back then, Lucky had been too defensive and angry to make friends. Growing up with Red for a mother hadn’t been easy. Reenie, on the other hand, had been blessed with a good family. She’d been loved, even spoiled, and had been one of the most popular girls in school.
“No, she retired,” she explained. “Since then some of the other teachers have had to pick up the slack by teaching during their prep hour, so everyone was happy when I called.”
“Sounds perfect. When do you start?”
“After Thanksgiving.”
“That’s next week.”
It certainly didn’t feel as though the holidays were approaching. “I guess it is.”
“No, Sabrina.” Lucky guided her child’s hand away from the cone before she could crush it. “I’m glad it was that easy,” she said to Reenie. “With the year well under way, I thought it might be difficult to get a position before summer.”
Reenie thought about how smoothly the call had gone. “It probably didn’t hurt that my father helped raise the money to build the new gym.”
“Or that your brother was the principal donor, who also happens to be a national celebrity and coaches the varsity football team,” Lucky added.
Reenie shrugged. “Being associated with Gabe has its advantages.”
“If you say so,” Lucky said with a sigh.
Ice cream dripped off the end of Sabrina’s double chin. Reenie watched Lucky wipe it again. “He told me he was going to call you and apologize,” she said. “I guess he hasn’t gotten around to that yet, huh?”
“He called before Dad’s birthday.”
Reenie felt her eyebrows hike up. “He did? And?”
“I’ve heard more sincere apologies.”
“So you’re not willing to forgive him?”
“Why should I? The problem won’t go away if I do.”
“He was nice at the party,” she said, feeding Sabrina when Lucky stopped to wipe her hands. “You have to give him credit for trying.”
Lucky set the napkin aside. “No, I don’t.”
Reenie laughed for the first time in what felt like a really long while. “Poor Gabe.”
“Are you kidding me? Your brother’s fine,” Lucky said. “He’s reached career heights other men only dream about. He’s richer than Midas. He’s one of the handsomest men I’ve ever met. He gets along great with Dad, as long as I’m not around. And he’s happily married. You told me a few weeks ago that Hannah might even be pregnant. Maybe he can’t walk, but things could definitely be worse.”
“I guess it’s okay for you to feel the way you do,” Reenie said, letting Lucky take over with Sabrina. “He wouldn’t want you to pity him. He hates that.”
“He isn’t getting any pity from me. I don’t even like him.”
Reenie could tell that wasn’t true. But a woman wearing a plastic hair-protector came in and stole her attention. She recognized that hair-protector; she recognized that coat.
“Oh no.” Why the heck had she stopped watching the parking lot?
Lucky twisted to see what had attracted her attention. “Found you, eh?”
Reenie supposed it was inevitable. Dundee wasn’t big enough to hide in for long.
“There you are,” Georgia said.
“Hi Mom.” Reenie managed a small wave.
Georgia’s eyes swept over the sticky baby and Reenie’s melting sundae before looking pointedly at Lucky. “Could I talk to Reenie alone for a moment?” she asked.
Lucky hesitated, but when Reenie nodded, she slid out of the booth and released her daughter from the high chair. “I’ll wash Sabrina up.”
“Have a seat, Mom,” Reenie said.
Georgia slid into Lucky’s place as Lucky headed to the restroom with her daughter. “I’m sure you know why I’m here.”
“You want something to eat?”
“I want to talk to you.”
“There’s nothing to say.”
“You and Keith had a good marriage. I think it can be fixed.”
“I’m afraid it can’t.”
“What about counseling?”
Reenie opened her mouth to say that counseling wouldn’t help, but Georgia raised a silencing hand before she could get the words out. “I know your budget has always been tight.”
Because your son was supporting a whole other family. All the unnecessary penny-pinching was one more reason for Reenie to be bitter. But what good would succumbing to that bitterness do her? Keith had done what he’d done. Her best chance was to put it all behind her. With any luck, she’d be doing that—at least technically—in about three weeks.
“So I’m willing to pay for it,” Georgia said. “I can’t let your marriage fall apart. I love you and Keith, and my grandchildren, too much.”
Reenie felt a sharp stab of the pain she’d been working so hard to avoid. Breaking up with Keith wasn’t simple. Their lives had been intertwined for eleven years, fourteen if she counted how long she’d loved him. Her family was his family and vice versa. How did one tear all those relationships apart?
“He quit his job,” Georgia was saying. “Now he’s working at the hardware store. I think that shows you his intentions are good. He’s willing to change, to stay at home and be with you, to support you the way he should have all along.”
Don’t listen, Reenie told herself. It’s an illusion. She doesn’t know. But Georgia was saying all the things Reenie’s heart wanted to hear. And there was always that voice inside her, the one that said this wasn’t real, that she’d come out of it okay in the end. “I don’t think counseling will work, Mom,” she said, but she sounded less convinced than she had a moment ago.
Georgia seemed to take heart at the hesitation in Reenie’s response. “How can you say that without giving it a chance, ho
ney?”
“I…I don’t know,” she said, because she couldn’t tell what Keith had done. She didn’t want the girls subjected to all the whispering, didn’t want them to know how badly their father had let them down.
“Reenie, you and Keith have been happy for years,” Georgia said. “Why throw that away?”
Because there was a woman living in California who was also married to Keith. And that woman had two children, which signified a lifelong commitment.
But Reenie hadn’t heard a word from Isaac or his sister since Isaac had come to her house. Maybe she was overreacting, assuming the worst. Keith was here, wasn’t he? He seemed to have cut ties with Liz just as he said he would.
Reenie supposed it was possible that Liz didn’t really love him, that she was willing to let him go. Maybe she had a lover of her own, or was only interested in the financial support Keith could provide.
She rubbed her lip, feeling a brief respite from the tension that had knotted inside her for three weeks. She could tolerate having Keith send off a monthly child-support check, couldn’t she? No one else would have to know. They could deal with this on their own, in the privacy of their home. Slowly rebuild the relationship.
She imagined her daughters’ faces as she told them their daddy was coming home.
Obviously sensing the fact that she was getting through to her daughter-in-law, Georgia took both her hands. “I’m pleading with you, Reenie. For the sake of your children, try counseling. That’s all I ask.”
Lucky came from the bathroom, holding a clean and happy Sabrina. When Sabrina caught Reenie’s eye, she clapped her hands and kicked her feet and Reenie actually managed a smile. Maybe the life she knew wasn’t over yet. Maybe there was still some hope.
“Okay,” she said. “Go ahead and set it up.”
Georgia squeezed her hands affectionately. “Wonderful, honey. I’ll tell Keith you’re willing to give it a try.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
ISAAC STRETCHED his legs out under the computer and leaned back in his chair, staring down at the napkin where Reenie had written her e-mail address. She’d also left her telephone number, but because it was less intrusive, he was more tempted to write than call. Ever since he’d left Dundee, he’d wondered how she was doing.
