by Sarah Morgan
“You see?” Caitlin turned to Liza, triumphant. “Granny said she had a massive party when she was our age.”
“I didn’t say massive,” Kathleen said, but no one was listening to her.
Liza was working so hard to stay calm her body was vibrating.
“Firstly, this is about you, not Granny. Secondly, social media hadn’t been invented when Granny was a teenager and even if she did have a party, I’m willing to bet she knew everyone there. Thirdly, her guests didn’t destroy the house and also the neighbors’ house.”
“We didn’t destroy the house,” Caitlin mumbled, but she had the grace to look a little sheepish. “We didn’t invite those people.”
“But someone did, and you need to find out who and make them accountable.”
“No way. That is not cool.”
Kathleen waited for Liza to say While you’re living under my roof, you will live by my rules, but she didn’t.
Instead she sat down at the kitchen island, shoulders slumped as if the weight of life was too much to carry. “Caitlin, if a stranger who you hadn’t invited into your room, went in and destroyed the things you love, would you be upset?”
Caitlin had paused. “That’s different.”
“It’s not different. The insurance company sent someone round to assess the damage yesterday, and it’s going to cost thousands of pounds to put right.”
“That’s crazy. It’s a scam.”
“It’s reality. Your ‘friends’ left the tap running in the downstairs bathroom, and the water flowed into the hallway, causing irreparable damage to the wooden floor. There are cigarette burns on the sofa in the living room, and wine stains on the carpet. The glass in the patio doors is cracked. And none of this is counting the damage done to our relationship with Mr. and Mrs. Brooks next door. I feel so embarrassed I can hardly face them. Apparently one of your so-called ‘friends’ used their front garden to relieve himself.”
Caitlin looked less sure of herself. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“You were responsible for caring for this property.”
“I didn’t know they were going to invite a ton of people I didn’t know!” There was a note of panic in her voice.
“That happens when you share details of a party on social media.”
Caitlin was a little paler. “I didn’t do that.”
“Someone did, and you need to find out who. And you need to ask yourself some serious questions about your friendship with that person.”
“Oh why don’t you just say it?” Guilt made Caitlin more fractious than usual. “You think it’s Jane. I bet you’re hoping it is Jane because then you’ll have an excuse to keep her out of my life. You’ve hated Jane from the beginning. Just because she’s a year older and really cool. But I’m old enough to make my own choices about my friends.”
“You’re not making your own choices,” Liza said. “You’re following her choices. That’s what worries me. You’re going along with everything she does and says, even though it goes against your own values. If you are old enough to make choices, you’re also old enough to take responsibility.”
Sean had walked into the room at that point and immediately left again.
Kathleen had caught Liza’s look of frustration as she opened her mouth to call him back and then thought better of it.
Strange, Kathleen had thought, that they hadn’t handled it together. A united front.
And then she remembered all the times she’d been absent, traveling somewhere exotic, leaving Brian to handle all those small family crises himself.
Caitlin was still in full flow. “You want me to have a boring life, like you. But I’m more like Granny. Adventurous and fearless. It’s in my DNA. I was born this way.”
In different circumstances Kathleen might have admired the clever, if manipulative, way Caitlin had shifted attention from herself.
DNA. Apparently this episode was now somehow her fault.
Kathleen had made a tactful exit at that point and escaped to her room to study her guidebook. Traveling was the perfect way to step out of one’s life, and right now she was ready to do that. She wished her daughter could do the same because her life didn’t seem a particularly pleasant place to be.
For the first time ever she was questioning that part of her that had wished Liza had been a little more rebellious. If Caitlin was an example of what rebellion looked like, she was glad she hadn’t had to handle it.
And now they were in the car and Kathleen couldn’t help but be aware that she was escaping, but Liza was returning to that toxic atmosphere.
Her daughter looked pale and tired, but resolute and determined as if she was in the midst of fighting an exhausting battle.
Whatever had happened to fun? Relaxation?
Kathleen sat a little straighter, her brain working hard. She hadn’t been the best mother in the world, but it was never too late to do better.
But how? How could she persuade her daughter to take time for herself? She hated it when people told her how to live her life, so she was hardly going to deliver a lecture or even offer advice. And they’d be at the airport soon, surrounded by strangers and noise and life at its most frenetic. Hardly the moment for a heart-to-heart, particularly for someone as averse to emotional conversations as her.
Sitting in stationary traffic, Liza drummed the wheel with her fingers and glanced at her. “Are you having second thoughts about this trip? Because you know that if something happens, you can call me and I’ll help.”
Kathleen felt an ache in her chest. Her daughter thought what she was doing was a bad idea, but she was still willing to help if something went wrong. Never mind that she was handling a crisis at home. It was so typical of Liza to put everyone’s needs in front of her own.
But people made sacrifices for those they loved. No one knew that better than her.
She pushed aside thoughts of herself, and not only because dwelling on the past was her least favorite thing. This wasn’t about her.
“I was thinking about you.” Go on, Kathleen. Say something deep and helpful. Acknowledge feelings.
“It’s been a pretty stressful time.” Liza turned her attention back to the road. “Hopefully the holidays will calm everything down and I’ll be able to relax. I can’t wait.”
“You can’t live your life waiting for two weeks a year when you enjoy yourself, Liza. What about the other fifty weeks?”
“I don’t only enjoy myself two weeks a year.” Liza frowned. “It’s true that day-to-day it feels a bit exhausting, but this is life, isn’t it? And it’s the same for everyone. Everyone has something.”
But not everyone handled their “something” with the same diligence as her daughter.
“You need to find that summer feeling for the rest of the year, not only for two weeks in August.” Kathleen licked her lips. “I’m worried about you.”
“You’re worried about me?” Liza laughed. “You’re the one driving across America with someone you don’t know.”
But that suited her. She had no desire to know Martha. Superficial relationships had always been her preference.
“I’m worried that you never put up boundaries.”
Liza adjusted her grip on the wheel. “We’re different that way, you know we are.”
“Yes, but you allow people to feed on your good nature until all that’s left is—is dust. Have you painted lately?”
“Caitlin’s bedroom.”
“You know that wasn’t what I meant.”
“No, I haven’t painted.” Liza sounded tired. “No time.”
“You should make time.”
“I haven’t felt like it. There’s no pleasure in trying to create something in a snatched moment when everyone is trying to take a piece of you. It becomes another chore. And I’d feel guilty taking that time for mysel
f when there is so much to be done.”
This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.
Kathleen trod cautiously, like an explorer venturing into a new land. “You’re the glue that holds the family together, but do you know what happens to glue over time? It dries out. And then everything falls apart.”
“You think I’m drying out?” Liza’s response was light, but her hands tightened on the wheel. “I need to change my moisturizer.”
“Do you use moisturizer?”
“When I remember.” Liza drew breath. “You think I’m weak. You think I let people walk all over me.”
“No. I think you’re a giver. You’re the kindest person I know, and generous, but for some reason you forget to extend that kindness to yourself. Which part of your life is for you and no one else? Liza!” She squeaked a warning as her daughter almost drove into the car in front.
Liza slammed on the brakes. “Sorry. I—Did you say you think I’m kind and generous?”
“Yes.” Why would a few words of praise elicit such a dramatic response? And were those tears in Liza’s eyes? No, no!
Her daughter blinked rapidly. “You think I’m boring. And careful.”
“Not boring. Careful, maybe. Caring, definitely.” Maybe this conversation had been a mistake. She wasn’t in a position to help or influence even if she wanted to, and generally she was of the opinion that a person had the complete right to mess up their own lives free of interference. But this was her daughter. “You care deeply about those close to you and you always put their happiness first. You were the same as a child.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“It can be bad if it means people take advantage of you. If something needs doing, they know you’ll do it.” And suddenly it came to her. The answer. It wasn’t interference if you gently nudged someone in a particular direction. They still had choice. “And because I know you’ll do what people need you to do, I’m going to ask one more thing of you.” She didn’t need to extend this uncomfortable conversation, she simply needed to manipulate the situation to achieve the outcome she wanted.
“You told me I should start saying no,” Liza said, “and now you’re asking me to do something else?”
“Yes,” Kathleen said. “Selfish of me, I know, but I need someone to help me out with this. I should have asked you sooner.” If she’d thought of it, she would have. She’d been tackling this the wrong way. “Would you check on Popeye a couple of times when I’m away?”
“I thought you said someone was feeding him?”
“They are, but you know Popeye. He’s an independent soul, and I’ve never left him for this long. I’d be happier if I knew someone I trust is keeping an eye on him. Maybe giving him a cuddle.” She sent a silent apology to Popeye who, generally speaking, wasn’t big on cuddles. Any guilt she felt at exploiting Liza’s good nature and sense of responsibility, was diluted by the fact that her request was in a good cause.
“I’ll try, but the girls are busy and there is no way we’re leaving them after what happened last time—”
“Why not go alone? Leave Sean to keep an eye on the girls. You might enjoy it. There is nothing like an early morning walk on the beach when you’re the only one there. Sometimes I take my coffee down there and sit on the sand.”
“You do?” Liza glanced at her. “I didn’t know that.”
“Now you’re going to tell me it sounds like a risky undertaking.”
“I think it sounds blissful. I’d give a lot to have a peaceful half hour on the beach with no one around.”
“Then do it. Spend the weekend at the cottage. Have some time to yourself. Why not?”
“Well, because—” Liza frowned. “I never go anywhere by myself. We do everything together.”
And that, Kathleen thought, was the problem.
She worked hard at looking pathetic. “I wouldn’t ask, but I’m worried about Popeye, the dear soul.”
“I know he means a lot to you.” The traffic started moving and Liza eased the car forward. “I promise I’ll keep an eye on Popeye. Although I won’t be responsible if he runs off.”
“He never runs off. He goes exploring, but then he always comes home.”
Liza smiled. “I never realized before how alike the two of you are.”
“Indeed. All I need is the freedom to roam.” It wasn’t so far from the truth. “If you go to the cottage for the weekend, don’t bother shopping and cooking. There’s a wonderful deli in the village that opened recently. Tell them you’re my daughter. And if you walk a mile down the beach, the Tide Shack makes a wonderful burger. The salty fries are spectacular.”
“Your diet is shocking, Mother.” But this time Liza was laughing, not lecturing. The traffic had finally eased and they were now only minutes from the airport. “Please try and eat the occasional vegetable or piece of fruit when you’re in the US.”
“I promise to eat nothing but broccoli.” Kathleen reached for her bag and checked her passport again. She felt a little nervous, but there was no way she was going to admit that to her daughter. She could just about handle a conversation about emotions providing they weren’t her own. “It’s been so long since I traveled properly, I’ve forgotten my routine. I keep having to check my passport and credit card are there, even though I’ve already checked twice.”
“You’re going to be fine.” Liza took the turnoff to the airport. “You have a phone. Martha has my number. If you need anything at all, or get into any sort of trouble, call me.”
“I hope I do get into trouble.” Kathleen patted her daughter’s leg. “That’s why I’m going.”
Liza pulled in at Departures. “You’re incorrigible.”
“I know. Please do check Popeye for me.”
“I’ll check Popeye.” Liza opened the car door and walked around to help Kathleen with her bags. “I should have parked. Then I could have come in with you.”
“I hate prolonged goodbyes.” They exchanged a look, both of them remembering all the stressful partings when Liza was a child. Emotions had tentacles, Kathleen thought. They wrapped themselves around you and pulled you down. They dug themselves into your heart and caused pain. She gave Liza’s shoulder an awkward pat. “Thank you. Enjoy France.”
A strange pressure built in her chest.
She should walk away right now, but for some reason her legs wouldn’t move.
Liza stepped forward and hugged her. “Have fun. I love you.”
The pressure grew until it felt as if someone had inflated a balloon in her chest.
She licked her lips and tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come. How was it possible to feel so much and yet say so little? And yet that was her world. She kept feelings inside that balloon and hoped that one day it wouldn’t burst.
Liza stepped back, gave an awkward smile and turned back to the car.
Kathleen gave a wave, unsettled by the sense of loss she felt.
She stood still as Liza eased into the never-ending flow of traffic, and it didn’t just feel like goodbye. It felt like a moment gone forever. An opportunity lost.
I love you too. You do know that, don’t you?
She turned, battling that feeling of disappointment that comes when you’ve failed an exam, or missed a goal. That feeling that came when you knew you should have done better.
The moment she entered the terminal building, the bustle and the echoing noise closed around her and her mood lifted. The present could always drown out the past if you made your present loud enough.
The feeling lasted until a young man almost knocked her flying with a Look where you’re going, Grandma.
Up on the departures board were all the destinations, reminding her of how big the world was, and how small she’d allowed hers to become.
She spotted Martha standing by the automatic check-in, looking lost.
&nb
sp; Kathleen waved and trailed her suitcase along the gleaming floor, weaving her way through the passengers as Martha approached with the excitement and enthusiasm of a Labrador.
“Kathleen!” Martha enveloped her in a big hug. “Our flight is on time, I checked. Chicago, here we come.” Some of her vibrant energy flowed into Kathleen, and the pressure in her chest eased. Those uncomfortable emotions slid back deep inside her where they belonged.
For the next month she had no need to think about them.
What a perfect pair she and Martha would make. Her wisdom and experience, combined with Martha’s youth and energy.
Her new companion would compensate for all those parts of her that no longer seemed to work properly.
Three time zones, eight states, one incredible adventure.
It was going to be perfect.
7
MARTHA
Forty-eight hours later, Martha stared at the sleek high-performance car in front of her and gave a silent apology for what she was about to do to it. Why, oh why, hadn’t she been honest about the fact she hated driving?
Her mother was right. She always made bad decisions.
It was all very well faking confidence—Yes, I love driving—but sooner or later you had to face your own lies and she was facing hers now. The thought of climbing behind the wheel of that sports car made her feel nauseated. It was like riding a racehorse when you’d only ever been on a fairground horse.
Oh Martha, Martha.
This was not going to end well. By the time she’d driven to the end of the street they’d either be dead or she’d be fired. It would be the shortest employment in history, which was a shame because she was starting to love Kathleen and so far this trip had been more exciting than she could possibly have imagined. She’d never had the chance to travel and she had to stop herself from pointing at everything and saying, Look at that!
She was trying to appear like a sophisticated woman of the world, which wasn’t easy.
And now they’d reached the moment of reckoning.
“Ford Mustang, right?” The tall, lanky guy with bad skin who had introduced himself as Cade handed her the keys. “You’re lucky. They’re in demand and we don’t always have one. You’re sure this is what you want? You could have had a Corvette or a Camaro. Or an SUV. You’d have more room.”
