She waited, but Kristen didn’t speak, just stayed where she was, her face against the dog’s neck.
Ellen sighed. “I’m trying to get you top dollar for this creaky, leaky old house, and that mural of Wonder Woman is in the worst place. It’s the first thing people will see when they come in, so I—”
“Stop!” Kristen lifted her head and looked at Ellen with a tear-streaked face. “That’s not a picture of Wonder Woman. It’s a picture of me.”
“That’s… that’s you?” Ellen’s stomach sunk.
“Mom used to call me Wonder Kristen.” Kristen let go of the dog and wiped her eyes with her sleeve, looking achingly young and uncertain.
Ellen handed Kristen the box of tissues that sat on the buffet.
Kristen pulled out a handful and blew her nose. “When I started middle school, I didn’t have friends the way I do now, and”—she shrugged—“I don’t know why, but things were just hard. Then the movie came out, and Mom and I went and…” Kristen’s voice quavered. “She painted that picture for me. She said that when I grew up, I could be just like Wonder Woman and fight the world’s evil. Every morning, before I’d go to school, I’d see that mural, and it reminded me that maybe, if I tried really, really hard, I’d grow up to be something special.”
Oh dear. Ellen’s gaze moved from Kristen to the mural that was barely visible now through a thin coat of primer. That face is Kristen’s. I can see the resemblance now. How did I miss that? “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
“I told you I loved that mural.”
Had she? Ellen had a sudden, crystal-clear memory of Julie saying, “You aren’t very good at listening to other people.”
Ellen’s stomach clenched, her chest tight with guilt. Julie was right. Ellen hadn’t listened. And if she was being completely honest, she knew why—it was easier and more efficient to do what needed to be done without slowing down to convince someone to agree with her. It was a shortcut that worked wonders on a job site, but in real life it sometimes meant other people and their opinions got shoved aside. Oh God, when did I get to be so selfish?
She’d done this to Kristen. Tears dampened Ellen’s eyes. “I should have spoken with you, but… look, I’ll… I’ll have someone come and fix it. Maybe we can clean it off now, before the primer dries.” She went to the hallway. “I had some rags around here I used to wipe mud from the dog’s feet, and I— Here they are!” She scooped up a rag from a bucket under the bench. “See?” She hurried to the mural and scrubbed at the primer. The paint was dry in places and sticky in others. She pressed harder, hoping against all reason that she could clean it up.
“Stop it!” Kristen said from where she now stood in the doorway. “You’re just making it worse.”
Ellen looked at the mural. Where she’d wiped away the partially dry primer, she had also lifted some of the paint beneath it, smearing the white until it was streaked pink and blue and green.
“You can’t fix this. Only Mom could, and she’s gone.”
Ellen’s throat tightened. “Surely there’s some way—”
“You ruined it.” Kristen’s voice was quiet and tired. “Just the way you’ve ruined everything.”
“No, no. We just need—”
“Don’t.” Kristen walked past Ellen toward front door, grabbing her book bag from the bench.
Ellen followed, feeling as small as an ant. “Don’t go! I never meant—”
“No.” Kristen pulled her keys from her pocket as she walked out the door.
Ellen followed her onto the porch. “Where are you going?”
“Away.” Kristen headed down the steps toward her car, every step stiff and hard.
Ellen followed, her heart aching. This exact same scene had played out twenty-odd years ago, but with a different teenager. Ellen’s feet felt heavy as she went, her gaze locked on Kristen. I can’t let her run away. I’ll never find her. “Please! We’ll—”
The car door slammed, and the Camry’s engine roared to life. With an abrupt crunch, Kristen threw the car into reverse and sped out of the driveway, the wheels screeching on the asphalt as if she were fighting for a place at a NASCAR race.
And then she was gone, taillights disappearing from sight as Ellen was left standing at the end of the sidewalk, alone.
It wasn’t until moments later that she realized her eyes were leaking the same hot, useless tears she’d wept all those years ago when Julie had run away. Oh God, what have I done?
CHAPTER 12 Kristen
“What are you going to do?” Missy asked over her cup of hot chocolate.
Kristen sunk lower in her seat. “I have no idea.” They sat in a big booth at the Moonlight Café, hot chocolates already on the table, a plate of chicken nachos on the way. It was just after four, so they were the only people in the entire place, which made the café, with its red-checked tablecloths and country kitsch wall decor, seem cozy. Or it would have if Kristen hadn’t still been stinging from her argument with her grandmother. “I can’t believe she did that.”
“Me neither.” Missy sent her a sympathetic look.
Kristen aimlessly turned her mug in a circle. After storming out of her house, she’d called Ava and asked if she could have the rest of the day off, saying she needed some extra time to study. Kristen had felt bad lying, but she hadn’t had the energy to explain herself. Ava hadn’t seemed to mind, though, which was good. “I’m glad you could come out for an early dinner.”
“I told my parents you needed to talk.” Missy scowled. “Your grandmother is a witch. Your mom spent weeks on that mural.”
Kristen remembered Mom sitting cross-legged on the floor, putting the finishing touches on Wonder Kristen’s boots, laughing about having to make them larger so they’d be true to life and match Kristen’s larger-than-usual feet. I miss her laugh.
A wave of sadness hit Kristen. She picked up her hot chocolate. Leaning her elbows on the table, she held her mug in front of her as if waiting for it to cool, hoping Missy hadn’t noticed how her lips trembled.
One glance at Missy told Kristen she’d wasted her time.
Missy’s gaze had darkened, her mouth pressed in a straight line. “I could smack that woman! More than once, too.”
Kristen took a slow sip, the warmth softening the tightness of her emotions enough for her to speak again. “I’ve never been so mad. I completely forgot I was playing it low-key to keep her out of my business.”
“Does she suspect we’re trying to find your dad?”
“Not yet. I hope we find him soon, though. I need—”
“Hi!” Josh slid into the seat beside Missy. He eyed their hot chocolates with envy. “Sorry I’m late. I had to wait for Dad to get home, and then he told me I had to empty the recycling. That took forever. I’m just glad it’s his early day off so I didn’t have to babysit.”
“We ordered nachos,” Kristen told him.
He brightened but then dropped his gaze. “That’s okay. I ate at home. I’ll just get a hot chocolate.”
She knew Josh’s parents were struggling financially. For the first time since she’d had her argument with her grandmother, a tiny bit of Kristen’s anger faded. She’d lost Mom and things were upside down at home, but she wasn’t the only one struggling. Mom used to say, “It is well to give when asked but it is better to give unasked, through understanding.” Kristen was pretty sure Mom had read that in a book somewhere, but she liked it anyway.
She told Josh, “We ordered an extra-large, so there’s plenty for you.”
“With extra jalapeños,” Missy added. “You might as well eat some. Kristen and I can never finish an extra-large.”
Josh looked happier already. “If you guys aren’t going to eat all of it, I guess I could help. Did you ask for extra sour cream?”
He looked so hopeful that Kristen had to smile. “Of course we did.”
Josh rubbed his hands together. “I love nachos. If I could eat just one thing fo
r the rest of my life, it would be—”
“Enough about the nachos!” Missy said impatiently. “Kristen has A Situation.”
“Oh?” He looked at Kristen. “What did she do now?”
Kristen opened her mouth to answer, but Missy was quicker. “She snuck painters into the house while Kristen was in school and had them ruin Kristen’s mural.”
Josh looked so horrified that Kristen’s heart eased yet more.
It was funny, but his genuine outrage stilled some of hers. “She didn’t sneak painters in. She just hired them. And to be fair, she didn’t realize Mom had made me Wonder Woman. I doubt Grandma Ellen ever really looked at that mural. It’s not her style.”
Missy set her hot chocolate down with an indignant thunk. “How could she not recognize you?”
“I don’t know, but she was surprised. Really surprised.”
Josh rubbed his chin. “Maybe you should have told her.”
“I’d already told her how much I loved the mural. I thought that was enough.”
“It should have been,” Missy said stoutly. “She had no right. That’s your house.”
It didn’t feel like Kristen’s house. It hadn’t felt like hers since the day Mom died. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m too mad to go home right now.”
“Stay at my house tonight,” Missy offered. “My mom asks about you all the time, so I know she’d love to see you.”
“I didn’t bring any clothes.”
“You can wear those jeans again, and I’ll give you one of my sweatshirts. We’re about the same size.”
Josh turned a skeptical look at Missy, his gaze measuring her plump figure and then Kristen’s rail-thin one, but he wisely didn’t say anything.
The nachos came, and Missy kept them laughing as she talked about an argument she’d had with her science teacher about an assignment she’d sworn she’d turned in but really hadn’t. When Missy set her mind to it, she could be very persuasive, and she’d finally managed to convince Mr. Vickers that maybe—just maybe—he had lost it and needed to give her an opportunity to do the assignment over.
“So now you have homework,” Josh pointed out.
“That’s better than a zero.” Missy pushed the half-finished plate of nachos toward Josh. “Finish those up. I don’t know about Kristen, but I can’t eat another bite.”
Kristen had barely eaten anything, but she shook her head when Josh looked her way. “I’m stuffed.”
Josh pulled the plate in front of him and loaded a chip with chili and jalapeños. “I guess we need to start the daddy search pronto.”
Missy cut him a hard look. “Kristen has had a rough day already.”
Kristen agreed. She felt as wrung out as a dishrag.
Josh piled a final jalapeño on his chip. “If her grandma’s already having the house painted, then Kristen’s almost out of time. My mom said that once that house hits the market, it’ll get snapped up. It’s on a great street.”
Missy almost choked on her hot chocolate. “Even if it does sell fast, there are still papers to sign and bank stuff to do, right? That takes months, doesn’t it?”
“I have no idea,” Kristen said. It didn’t matter, either. A few days ago, Grandma had casually mentioned that once the house was ready for listing, there would be no reason to stay in Dove Pond. She’d just hand the keys over to a real estate agent, and that would be that.
Kristen looked at her empty mug, the restaurant quiet except for the crunch of chips as Josh cleaned the plate. I’ve got to figure this out. What would Wonder Kristen do?
And just like that, she knew. “Josh is right.”
Missy blinked. “About what?”
“The dad search. We don’t have time to mess around, so we have to ramp this thing up. In fact, we should start right now.” Kristen shoved her mug away, stood, and collected her stuff.
“Where are you going?” Missy asked.
“To the hardware store,” Kristen said. “I was going to do this Monday after work, but we can’t wait.”
Missy scooted out of the booth and pulled on her coat and scarf. “Hurry up, Josh.”
Josh crammed a nacho into his mouth and then said around it, “Want to walk? It’s just a few blocks away.”
“I’d rather drive,” Kristen said. “In case we want to leave fast.”
“Always have an escape plan,” Missy said with approval.
Josh ate the final nacho, then wiped his hands on his napkin. “Let’s go!”
Ten minutes later, they were standing in the parking lot, leaning against Kristen’s Camry as they stared at the hardware store.
Kristen rammed her hands into her coat pockets, her fingers closing around her kazoo. Through the wide plate-glass window, she could see Nate Stevens stacking large bags of dog food into a big display near the front of the store. He looked calm, comfortable even. Just wait until I talk to him. There’s no better way to ruin a perfectly good day than to be confronted by a kid you didn’t know you had. If, that is, I am his kid.
Her stomach suddenly ached, and she turned to Missy and Josh. “How do I start this? ‘Hi, guess what? I’m your daughter. Maybe.’ ” Her breath puffed out as she spoke, punctuating each word.
Josh squinted from her to Mr. Stevens and then back. “That could work,” he said cautiously.
“I wouldn’t hint,” Missy said breezily, as if she’d done this before. She whipped a huge pair of sunglasses out of her purse and slid them on. “Just come right out and ask him if he dated your mother during the crucial months. No sense in making things complicated.”
“I can’t just march in there and ask him that.” Kristen pulled her scarf a little closer. “He’d know what I was getting at the second I asked.”
“So? He’s going to figure it out eventually. I wouldn’t waste time with small talk.”
“Not even ‘hello’?”
Missy considered this. “I guess you have to say hello,” she conceded. “That’s only polite. But I’d dive in right after that.”
“So, ‘Hello. Did you screw my mother in 2004, and did you use protection?’ ”
“Something like that.”
God, this was going to be so hard.
Josh sent Kristen a sympathetic look. “It wouldn’t hurt to start out with a little small talk and then ease into it.”
Kristen hunched her shoulders against the wind. “Right. After hello, I should say something normal, and then jump into the harder stuff.” She pursed her lips. “I could ask him what he thinks of this cold snap. Old people talk about the weather a lot.”
“That’s a safe topic.” Josh nodded wisely. “Very safe.”
“Good Lord, you two.” Missy slid her sunglasses to the top of her head, her voice dripping with irritation. “If you want to drag it out, then by all means, mention the weather and maybe chat him up about the coming election. Heck, you can even tell him how much you love a good hot chocolate too.”
“That’s too much,” Josh said. “I think Kristen should start with the weather and then move into a more direct line of questioning. I wouldn’t bring up the election or—”
“I was joking, Josh!” Missy looked as if she wanted to kick him in the shins.
“Oh. Sorry.”
Missy turned back to Kristen. “Say hi. Mention the weather, if you must. Then ask him the important question.”
“Just throw it out there?”
“Throw it like a grenade.” Missy dropped her sunglasses back into place. “See where it lands.”
“Missy, come on,” Josh said. “This isn’t going to be easy on either Kristen or Mr. Stevens. If she marches in there like a demanding brat, even if Mr. Stevens suspects he is her dad, he might deny it just to get rid of her. That would be—”
“Shut up, Josh!” Missy snapped. “This is hard enough without you going straight to the worst-case scenario!”
But it was too late. Kristen was already imagining Mr. Stevens, red-faced and furious, yelling at her to leave a
nd never come back. She’d met him a bunch of times, and he’d always been super nice, but this was a totally different situation. Oh God, what if Mr. Stevens just denies it? What if he is my dad and he lies to get me to leave him alone? To her surprise, the thought sparked a flood of anger so sudden and hot that raw energy pumped through her. For the first time in her life, she needed her dad, and not for a stupid father-daughter dance, either. This was life, it was serious and important, and if this man was her father, then she refused to be denied.
Her anger must have showed, because both Josh and Missy pulled back a little, their eyes wide. Their shocked reaction made Kristen’s anger fizzle out as quickly as it had arrived, leaving her deflated like a popped balloon.
“Are you okay?” Missy asked.
“I’m fine,” Kristen mumbled. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You can. I know you can.” Missy took Kristen by the arms and gave her a little shake. “Do you want to stay in Dove Pond?”
“Yes.”
“Then get in there and start chatting that man up.” Missy gave Kristen a final shake for good measure, then released her. “Go on. Get it over with. You’ll never know until you talk to him.”
Kristen fought the urge to get back in her car and drive home as fast as she could. But Missy was right. If Kristen wanted to keep her home and stay in Dove Pond, she had to do this.
Taking a deep breath, she ducked her head and walked toward the door.
She was two steps away when she slowed to a stop. Oh my God, I have to ask this guy if he slept with my mother. I can’t do that. I just can’t.
She turned on her heel and returned to Missy and Josh. “I can’t.” Kristen crossed her arms, hunching into her coat. “This is so hard.”
“You’re thinking about it too much,” Missy said.
“Maybe,” Kristen admitted. “All I know is that I can’t march up to a guy and ask, ‘In 2004, did you sleep with my mother and forget to use a condom?’ It would embarrass us both.”
A Cup of Silver Linings Page 17
