by Scarlet West
“Oh, Millie,” I whispered. My tears were running down my cheeks, unchecked. I had handled that really insensitively. I just didn’t know what else to say anymore. I was in a bad state myself. Confused, sad, hurt. No wonder I had no comfort and wisdom to offer. I had none for either for myself.
I reached for the bathroom door again, then let my weary hand drop to my side as my daughter shouted through the keyhole.
“Go away.”
"It’s not your fault sweetie. None of it is your fault. And you are the greatest joy of my life. I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world. I love being your mom,” I told her.
Greeted by silence, I turned away and headed silently to the kitchen to finish tidying up. I looked at the clock, straightening my back. It was one-thirty. I had asked Skyler to visit at two.
Good. I need to straighten my own head out, and the best way to do that is by talking to my friend.
I finished tidying the kitchen, taking my broom across to the sitting room. I tidied and organized and plumped up the cushions carefully. At quarter to two, I went to the bathroom door. It was open.
“Millie?”
“I’m up here,” my daughter’s voice came from her room. “Have you heard from Uncle Tom yet?”
“He’s coming at five for sure,” I promised. Her head appeared through the door at the top of the stairwell.
“Good,” she said. “I’m sorry I said what I said earlier. I’m never too tired for you.”
“You are, sometimes,” she chastened.
“I know I sometimes say that,” I said, striving for honesty. It was always the best way. “I say that when I don’t want to answer difficult questions, sometimes. And the topic of your dad is one I find difficult.”
“Because he left us,” she said, eyes darkening again.
“No. Because there were a lot of unanswered questions about everything,” I said. “And lots of things I don’t understand myself. I promise to tell you one day.”
“When I’m older?” Her brow raised, sarcastically.
“No,” I said, grinning tiredly. “When I can understand it all, myself.”
That made her grin. Her full-lipped mouth lifted ruefully. She nodded.
“I believe you, mommy,” she said. “I just feel sad sometimes.”
“I know,” I said. “I understand. But you have to know one thing.”
“What’s that, mommy?” she asked, curious.
“Your dad would have loved you, if he’d gotten to know you.”
To my surprise, her eyes filled with sudden, flooding tears.
“You think so?” Her voice was a croak. The tears ran down her chin, even though her eyes had lit up with something I hadn’t known they’d lacked; joy.
“I know so, sweetie,” I said, my own voice filled with feeling I went up the last two stairs and embraced her, stroking her fine hair. “You’re the best daughter in the whole world.”
“And you’re the best mom.” Her voice was muffled from where her head pressed against my chest. I leaned back, and she looked up at me, my hands on her face.
“I try, sweetie,” I said thickly. “Thanks for being so understanding.”
“You too, mom,” she said, turning away and jumping onto the bed. “Can I wear my new dress to the park? I want to show Uncle Tom how pretty I look.”
“Of course, you can,” I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat. Thank Heavens for my brother. He played the role of a father figure in my daughter’s life. More than anything, Tom’s presence served to anchor her.
I headed downstairs. “Auntie Skyler’s coming to visit,” I called up as I went downstairs. “Maybe you and Greer can play in the yard for an hour or so?”
“Greer’s coming! Yay!” The pleasure in her voice was obvious. I went down to my room to get freshen up.
At least all was well in Amelia’s world.
When Skyler arrived, our daughters quickly disappeared into the yard together. Skyler, wearing new Levi’s and a shirt that looked at once negligent and fiendishly pricey, sat down on my couch.
“Having a good day?”
I frowned. “In patches, yes,” I said carefully. “You?”
“Oh, you know,” Skyler stretched. “Work. Kids. Stress. Wouldn’t live without them, though,” she grinned, meaningfully.
“Yeah,” I said. “I know.”
I sat down opposite her, taking a sip of my coffee. Dark and scalding, it cut through some of the misery that seemed to have filled my head up steadily.
“It’s Greer’s birthday tomorrow?”
“Uh-huh,” Skyler nodded, smiling. “Ten years old! Seems crazy. I remember the day she was born like it happened last week.”
“I know,” I said meaningfully. I also remembered Amelia’s birth. It had been a moment of elation, of defiance.
“Time goes past so quickly, hey?” Skyler said, running her fingers through her hair, tucking back a loose strand carefully. She was six years older than me, and worrying about her graying hair. I dyed it for her sometimes, though usually she went to the other, more expensive, salon in main street. I didn’t blame her – if I were her, I’d have gone there too. They used a much higher quality of dyes.
“Yeah,” I agreed softly.
She sipped her coffee, slowly. Then she looked up at me over the rim of the mug, contemplatively.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, brow raised. “You’re not yourself, Trina. Want to share?”
I frowned. “I dunno, Skyler,” I said frankly. “I’m, well, confused.”
“Confused?” she asked.
“Well, I don’t know,” I said again, feeling silly. Why couldn’t I discuss it? I knew talking about it would make me feel better. Skyler was non-judgmental, one of the reasons, besides our daughters’ friendship that she and I were close. I needed to talk to someone about it, before I went nuts.
“What’s confusing?” she asked gently. “Something going on with Amelia?”
“No, no, ” I shook my head, vaguely. “It’s nothing to do with her. Well, actually, it is. Kind of. It’s her father.”
“Her father?” Skyler set her mug down carefully. “You heard from him?”
I frowned. “Not exactly,” I said.
Skyler – of everyone I knew in Bridgeway – knew some of the details. I had confided the story of my unplanned pregnancy in her, and the fact that the father was in another State. I had even told her that I’d never told him about Millie.
“Not exactly?” she asked, carefully.
“Well, I did hear from him. Tom did,” I said, not sure how much of the truth to tell her. I still had no idea what I should do regarding Drake’s sudden re-entry into my life. I didn’t want her to affect my opinions.
I have to decide what to do about this on my own.
“Tom is in touch with him?” she sounded shocked.
I winced. “Tom doesn’t know about it.”
“Oh,” she said. She leaned back in her seat, blinking in surprise. I could see that this particular part of my story had shocked her, though I didn’t know why yet.
“ Tom and Millie’s dad are friends. I knew that if Tom knew, I’d ruin their friendship. Tom was going off to college and I didn’t want to break up the one supportive friendship he had. Going away to school was hard enough for him. It was a really big deal.”
Our family hadn’t been rich. Tom had worked to pay for part of his tuition fees annually. He had faced discrimination from the other kids who came from wealthy backgrounds and fancier cities. I had worried for him and known that his relationship with Drake would help him. It was just another reason to keep my secret.
Except that now, all my secrets were in danger of coming out and I had no idea whatever what to do about it.
“I get it,” Skyler said gently, surprising me. “You made a tough choice, Trina. But there was only one thing you never thought about in all that serious decision making.”
“What was that?” I asked, feeling slightly affronted.
I nodded slowly, the feeling of defensiveness slipping away. “You’re right.”
“I know” she said kindly. “It’s about time you started thinking about that for a change,” she added. “You free this evening?”
“Mmm, not really,” I said, recalling the promise I’d made to Millie about the park. If we went to see Tom, he would probably invite us for dinner – he usually did – and I reckoned that would be just what Millie needed right then.
“Oh,” she frowned. “Because I reckoned we could maybe go to the restaurant and…Oh! No! Is that the time?” she jumped out of her seat, eyes wild.
“I think so, yeah,” I said slowly. I looked at her, utterly confusedly. “Why?”
“It’s Thursday!” she almost screamed. “Damn it, Trina. You have to help me.”
“What?” I asked, feeling panicked. Skyler was usually so calm. I’d never seen her like that. “What is it, Skyler?” I felt desperate. “Of course, I’ll help you – whatever it is.”
“Whew.” She calmed down somewhat. “Thanks, Trina, you’re a blessing. What would I do without you?”
“What’s the matter?” I asked, collecting up our empty coffee cups. I felt my heart thumping. What was it that had distressed my calm and collected friend so devastatingly?
“I forgot about the bash at the restaurant. It’s super important. Randall will kill me,” she shook her head, hurrying for the door. Her husband, Randall, was the head chef at their restaurant, La Nouvelle.
“What can I do, to help?” I asked.
“I need some help with the organizing,” she said, shrugging on her coat and reaching for her purse and the car keys. “The layout of tables, overseeing the waitresses. I have to be in the front, directing traffic as it were.”
“I can do that,” I said, already reaching for my purse. “You just tell me what you need.”
“Thanks. You’re a lifesaver,” she breathed. “I can’t believe I forgot. Maybe you can come along. It’s a posh event.”
I stared. “You think so?”
She giggled. “Sure, why not?” Her face was amused. “It’s not an interplanetary trip, it’s a party.”
I grinned, feeling my spirits lift for the first time in ages. “Okay,” I said. “Tom is coming to fetch Millie anyway, and I think it would be good for her to spend some time with him. She’s in a space where he’s much more able to reach her than I am.” I frowned.
“Well, then!” my friend grinned. “It’s perfect! Isn’t it time you did something nice just for yourself? ”
I sighed. “You’re right.”
We looked at each other. She took a deep breath and smiled.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m calm. Let’s call the girls and go?”
“Great.”
I spent the afternoon running around like a crazy person. The tables were unset, the waitresses unsure of what to do, and the assistant chef needed a briefing – or a stiff dose of tranquilizers – and then we were ready to go. By six o’ clock, I felt more tired than I had in ages, but I also felt satisfied. We’d pulled it off.
“Whew!” Skyler raised her palm in mock-salute.
“We did it!” I felt wired, ecstatic. The restaurant looked exquisite, the tables set, the glasses polished. Waitresses in elegant dresses stood on hand, ready to receive our guests.
“So,” Skyler grinned at me. “You ready to go?”
“I don’t know what I’d wear,” I said lamely. I was suddenly very self-conscious. What had sounded like a good idea a few hours ago was now terrifying.
I don’t have anything even close to appropriate for an event like that..
“Oh, no stress,” Skyler raised her shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve got loads of appropriate dresses. You can borrow one of mine.”
I almost screeched. “You mean it?”
“Of course.” She shrugged again. “You’re my best friend and you deserve a fancy night out.”
I blushed. Somehow, the thought of getting dressed up and attending a fancy party with the local government representatives was so exciting, so alluring, that I almost felt like I dreamed it. I knew it was silly, but I hadn’t been to a fancy party or gotten dressed up since the prom night ten years ago. It would be something amazing.
“Well, then,” Skyler said, turning away. “Come on. We have half an hour to get ready before we get back here. The party starts at seven.”
“Oh!” I whirled round. “We’d better go.”
Skyler grinned. “No stress, gal,” she chuckled. “We’ll get here on time.”
We drove to her place, which was just around the corner. There, she threw open her closet.
“Choose something. Evening outfits on right.”
I stared into the closet. A pale dress, a color between silver and blue, caught my eye as it shivered with a soft sheen. I almost fell in love with it.
“Can I borrow that one?”
Skyler’s eyes went big. “I forgot I have that. Sure, you can wear it! I thought something more modern, like the cherry-red?”
“I want that one,” I said, sounding like my daughter.
She chuckled. “Great,” she said. “Well, we’d better get ready. Want to shower?”
“Thanks,” I nodded. I couldn’t see putting on such a pretty dress unshowered after a day of running around the restaurant.
As I slipped the dress over my head and put on my makeup, I stared at myself in the mirror.
A tall, pale-haired woman with high cheekbones looked out at me. Her eyes were huge, the color brought out by the shimmering blue of the dress. Her curves were complimented, and she looked great. I hadn’t seen myself look so good in a long time.
“Ready?” My friend sounded decidedly self-satisfied behind me.
“Yes,” I said. I drew in a shuddery breath.
“Well, then,” Skyler said, businesslike. “Let’s go.”
Resplendent in a chic burgundy ensemble, she followed me out.
When we got to the party, the terrace was crowded. Men in suits and women in evening wear flocked onto the verandah, and the sound of low and murmurous laughter filled the air. I walked up the steps, my fingers reaching for Skyler’s as nerves twisted in my stomach.
“Skyler!” a woman with red lipstick and thick mascara greeted my friend. “It’s been years! How are you?”
“Hello, Sherril,” she greeted the older woman in return. “This is my friend, Trina Clarke. Trina, Sherril Masefield.”
I nodded and stammered something, my heart thudding with terror as I recognized the mayor of the town, the local party representative, and even the head of the library. Then my eyes spotted a waitress with appetizers on a tray. Using hunger as an excuse, I headed quickly in that direction.
I stared down at the tray, pretending to be selecting something but really buying time to still my nerves.
It almost worked until I heard a deep voice, soft and low, near my right ear.
“Hello, Trina.”
6
Drake
I stared. The woman in the pale dress was undoubtedly her. But she looked as I had never seen her. With subtle makeup, her hair blow-dried and straight, the soft drapes of the dress clinging to all the curves of her sweet body, she looked stunning.
“Trina?” I whispered again.
She continued to stare. Her mouth had fallen into that round shape and her eyes were big. She swallowed.
“Drake,” she said tightly, her eyes round as saucers as she stared up at me.
I grinned, feeling quite proud of her reaction. “ “I didn’t know you were going to be here. You look amazing.”
“Neither did I,” she whispered. “It was sort of last minute. And, thanks. So do you.”
Her cheeks went red as she said it and I felt my own cheeks burn in return.
“How did you…”
“When I was…”
We both spoke together. I licked my lips nervously and grinned.
“You go
first.”
“I was going to say, when I was helping Skyler, she invited me here. As a guest.”
“That’s very nice,” I nodded. “I had to come because of the filming. Not like some people, who get personally invited.” I winked, hoping to lighten her obvious nerves.
She blushed. “Well, that’s the mayor of Bridgeway,” she whispered, inclining her head in the direction of a tall man with a weighty appearance, standing beside a woman in a scarlet dress with very red lipstick. “And the guy over there is a party representative, and the woman in the copper dress is the head of the Library.”
“I see,” I nodded. “And who’s that?” I pointed out a tall man with a bored expression.
“No idea,” she whispered back. “Maybe he’s the taxman.”
We both laughed. I saw heads turn in our direction and swallowed hard, trying to contain my mirth.
“It’s great to see you,” I whispered, sincerely.
She caught my gaze. Her blue-green eyes looked hesitatingly into mine, as if she wasn’t sure if I told the truth. I swallowed, knowing every bit of that mistrust was justifiable.
“I mean it,” I whispered back. “It’s been too long. I want to hear everything you’ve been up to. Can we sit down somewhere?”
Trina looked around. We both noticed at once a general absence of chairs in the room.
“There is a bench in the garden,” she said considering.
I caught her eye and my whole body tingled with anticipation. I was tired – it had been a long day setting up the set – and I couldn’t hold back my longing to spend time alone with her.
“Shall we go?”
“Okay.”
Looking around at the guests clustered on the terrace, laughing and joking, we headed quickly out into the garden.
Out there, was silence. The sound of the party dwindled and crickets chirped. I waited for her to sit down on the bench, then sat down beside her. She moved slightly farther from me and I sighed.
“It’s been a long time.”
“Yes,” she agreed..
We were silent for a few moments.
Finally, I got up the courage to ask. “So, how have you been all this time?” “Okay,” she said. She leaned back, her eyes on the horizon. Her face was tight, her eyes tense at the edges with a strange expression in them that looked like weary resignation.
