Kitabı oku: «The Good Mother», sayfa 2

Chapter Three

Evie Ray Randall was skinny. So skinny, August figured she could put on twenty pounds and still look in need of a good meal. Her arms were too thin, her hips too bony. Dark smudges marred the translucent skin around her eyes, the shadows almost matching the smoky gray irises that had mesmerized him from the moment they’d first met.

Evie’s hair needed to be cut or styled or whatever his sister, Tanya, was constantly doing to hers, because it hung down her back in a limp ponytail, the once vibrant color dull and faded.

So, how come he still thought Evie was the most beautiful woman in the world?

It had to be the spark of mischief that never quite left her eyes. The way she was never too sweet, too patient, or too upbeat. In short, Evie Ray had always been real. She laughed when things were funny, showed her temper when she was mad, and cried at Hallmark commercials. Yep, with Evie, what you saw was what you got. And he’d always wanted every bit of her.

“What?” Evie asked, catching him staring from across the table they were setting. “Do I have ketchup on me or something?” She picked up a napkin she’d just folded and swiped it across her face.

“Stop, you look fine,” he said, grabbing the napkin. “I didn’t mean to stare, I was just thinking of something else.”

She pulled a stack of plates from the basket her mom had set out and started walking around the table, placing each in the center of a red linen place mat. “Really? It must have been pretty important.”

When he took too long formulating a reply, she gestured toward the far side of the patio. “Are you worried about your mom?”

“No. Well, not too much.” Out of habit, he studied his mom’s color as she munched on a bacon-wrapped shrimp. For the moment, his mother looked healthy, her color not too flushed.

Evie leaned forward. “My dad told me that she’s been sick.”

“Yeah. She’s had some trouble with her cholesterol and blood pressure, among other things. She had to have a stent put in one of her arteries last year. Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s slowed her down for a minute.”

“What gave you the first clue?” Evie asked with a broad grin. “The pile of shrimp or the plate of fries my dad just handed her?”

“All of it,” he said, finally able to see the humor. Bev Meyer had never been one to follow anyone’s advice but her own. Why had he thought things would suddenly change? “I’m trying to take care of her, but she wants none of it.”

“She’s always been independent.”

Thinking of his mother, who’d once been a ballet teacher before settling down to raise kids and help her husband with the resort, he nodded. “Yeah. She has always been that.”

“Things have been tough since your dad died, huh?” she asked, handing him the spoons as she folded napkins and began circling the table once again.

Dutifully, August placed a spoon to the right of each plate. “Yep, but at least Tanya lives nearby, too. She moved next to Mom, just in case Mom starts feeling bad but doesn’t want to tell us. The first time Tanya and I heard Mom was having heart problems was when her doctor told us they’d admitted her to the hospital.”

“Oh, August.”

He tried to smile, to ease Evie’s look of worry. “It sucked. Luckily, she’s promised she’ll never keep us in the dark again.”

“She better not.”

Determined to lighten the mood, he pointed to the chunky blue salt-and-pepper shakers on the table. “These look familiar. They’re from your catalog, right?”

“Yep. Mom and Dad are great customers.”

“I looked through it the other day. You do a great job.”

“It’s not my catalog. I just work there and help manage things. It’s a good place to work.”

“It’s great they let you take a long vacation.”

“Summer is a slow time for us.” With a shrug, she added, “Plus, I needed a break.”

“Being here in Bishop’s Gate will be good for you.”

Emotion sparked in her eyes. “Lately, I’ve been hearing that a lot. I must look even worse than I thought.” Before he could say a word, Evie pointed to the flight of steps leading out toward the walkway and beach. “The table’s all set. Let’s go sit out there.”

“All right.” Grabbing two more Coors Lights, August told everyone they were going for a short walk, then followed Evie, who’d already stepped off the patio, kicked off her shoes, and was walking barefoot down the path.

In a couple of strides, he caught up with her. “I got us another round.”

“Thanks,” she said, twisting off the cap easily.

After a few more steps, they sat down on a pair of ancient iron chairs, half buried in silky-soft warm sand. Within seconds, Evie buried her toes in the sand, too. “Ah,” she said, finally treating him to a genuine smile. “Do you smell the surf? I love it here.”

August stretched out his legs and glanced toward the horizon, where the warm gulf water rushed in gentle waves across the shoreline. “Me, too. I’ve always loved it here.” Beside him, Evie sat with her head back, sheer bliss on her face. She looked beautiful. “For the record, I think you look okay, Evie,” he said softly.

Her head popped up, her eyes so full of cautious eagerness, that it took his breath away. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he replied, hoping she didn’t hear how affected by her he was. He took a fortifying sip of his Coors and watched the waves with Evie.

Little by little, the sunlight faded and the temperature dropped. Behind them, August could hear his mom laugh at some old joke Mike was telling.

“You just need to take some time for yourself,” he added after a while.

She laughed at that. “What I need to do, August, is take care of my children.”

August pointed behind them. On the patio, Missy was playing with some French fries on the tray of her high chair and Jenna was showing Tanya her collection of naked Barbie dolls. “Your girls look fine.”

Her expression softened. “Right now, at this minute, I guess they do.”

Her pleasure in his simple compliment brought back all kinds of memories for August. “Remember when we went to that carnival and got stuck on the Ferris wheel?”

She chuckled. “Don’t act like that was a rare occurrence. I think everyone in Bishop’s Gate has gotten stuck on that Ferris wheel one time or another.”

“I won’t deny that. Still—do you remember the night it was our turn?”

“Absolutely. I remember that it was pretty much the hottest night of the year.”

It had been hot. Evie had worn short jean shorts, blistering white Keds and a bright teal halter top. She’d been all smooth, tan skin and golden hair. Gorgeous. “You were the only girl who didn’t panic when the wind picked up and our seat started rocking.”

Evie leaned closer, her bare arm brushing against his…just like they had so long ago. “That’s because I was the only girl who had August Anderson Meyer’s arm around her.”

He remembered that well. Her skin had felt like satin, and there’d been enough humor in her eyes to make being stuck on the ancient ride a true adventure.

He’d kissed her, too. He’d pulled her so close that their seat had rocked quite a bit, all on its own. “That was a great night, though your parents never did push back curfew.”

Evie smiled. “They weren’t fools—they knew what we wanted to do. Jenna’s got another thing coming if she thinks she’ll ever pull one over on me.”

Back on the porch, Jenna was showing Jan a picture she’d just colored. “It’s for Daddy,” she pronounced, her voice floating toward them.

Evie visibly winced as she stared at the water once again.

“You okay?”

“Oh, sure. I’m, uh, having a tough time remembering not to care that I took the girls away from their dad—from John—for a whole month.”

“Did John not want you to come to Florida?”

She looked surprised. “He encouraged me, actually. He’s going to be gone most of the month, and he knows just how much the girls love my parents.”

“So, you and your ex still get along.”

“Well enough. He’s there for the girls whenever he can be.” Digging her toes deeper into the sand, she added, “John’s always been a good father. A very good father.”

Her defense of the guy made August seethe. She was hurting. He saw it now, and he’d heard about it from her parents. She looked worn-out and stressed, overworked and underfed. August knew her ex-husband was the reason…so why was she defending the guy? “A good father…but not a good husband?”

Gray eyes widened and a hint of a smile played around the corners of her pale pink lips. “I don’t know about that. I think he just fell out of love.”

“Did you?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, some days…some nights I wonder if I’d ever really been in love with him.” She shook her head. “I was on cruise control, you know? I went to work, I came home, I cooked dinner. On my days off I vacuumed and cleaned the house. Sometimes I remembered to wear makeup.” Quietly, she added, “Sometimes I remembered to give John my attention. Sometimes he remembered, too.”

August hated the thought of her so unhappy. “He should have helped you more.”

“It wasn’t me, it wasn’t him…it was ‘us.’ And ‘us’ wasn’t good. We made babies. We raised them together. We divided chores and shared a checkbook, but I don’t know if we ever shared a life.”

It sounded like a cop-out to August. “I can’t believe he left you and the girls.”

“He didn’t, not really. He’s nearby, he helps. He just left me.”

He hated that she so obviously thought it was her fault. August clasped her hand, unable to keep from touching her. “Evie—”

She squeezed his hand to stop his words. “At first I was devastated. But then one night when I was all alone, sipping wine and feeling sorry for myself, I remembered our honeymoon. There we were, sporting shiny gold rings. We’d just had the most amazing wedding and reception, were finally free to do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted—and I didn’t have a thing to say to him.”

Stark awareness filled her eyes as she met his gaze. “And that’s when I knew, August. Three months after our divorce, as I sat on my couch, remembering a thousand little details, I knew John had been right. We’d jumped into marriage and into grown-up life without ever jumping into love. And, as much as it pains me to admit it…that wasn’t enough. John and I, we had no passion.”

No passion.

The details of her life were hard to hear, though August had wanted to hear every bit. Back in high school, he’d had a major crush on Evie Ray. The last summer when they were together, when they thought she was pregnant, he’d fantasized about a future with her in it. When their “scare” was over, he’d been almost disappointed. Enough to think about persuading her to not go back to Texas, to attend Florida State with him.

But something had vanished between them. Once more, he’d been too unsure of himself to try and make things better. He’d felt that regret time and again through the years.

He should have done more to make her see he was worth it. That they were worth it.

“If John fell out of love, the problem was his, not yours,” he murmured, running his thumb over her knuckles.

“I guess.” Evie said the words almost wistfully, almost as if she didn’t believe him, which made August wonder just how much she’d begun to doubt herself. Did she not feel she deserved anything?

“Momma? Momma, I can’t find Neena,” Jenna announced from the patio, loud enough for everyone on the beach to know that she had a problem.

Evie dropped August’s hand like it was on fire and got to her feet just as Jenna darted down the steps to them. “Neena is Jenna’s baby doll,” Evie explained. “Any chance you saw it when you were unloading?”

August shook his head, not failing to notice the switch in her posture, the change in her voice. “I don’t remember a doll, but I don’t think I looked under the seats, either. Maybe it’s still there?”

“Maybe.”

Jenna slipped in between them. “Momma, what about Neena?”

With a wry expression, Evie ruffled her daughter’s curls. “Let’s go look in the van, sugar.” Without looking back, Evie slipped on her sandals and guided Jenna back to the house.

August picked up the half-full bottle of beer Evie had abandoned and followed, too, feeling curiously left behind as the girl jabbered and complained and Evie nodded sympathetically.

When they reached the patio, Jenna’s voice turned whiny. “I’m tired, Momma. I want Neena.”

Evie gave her a quick hug. “I know you are. We’ll find Neena then get ready for bed.” Almost as an afterthought, Evie turned to August. “See you,” she whispered. “I’ve got to go.”

“Wait a minute.” He pointed to the table they’d just set. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I will—later.”

Frustration coursed through August, tempting him to take charge. He wanted to tell Jenna to wait a minute and let her mother eat. To tell her parents to go look for the doll instead of watching Evie do it.

But it wasn’t his place.

As Jenna started crying in earnest, Evie picked her up and headed to the front of the house where her van was parked. Catching his eye, she smiled. “Don’t worry, August.”

But August knew he would. In many ways, he’d never stopped worrying about Evie. Not when he thought he’d gotten her pregnant.

Not when she’d called to say that everything was fine and no baby was in the future.

Not even when he’d come to the conclusion that maybe what they’d felt hadn’t been love—just more like teenage hormones on overdrive.

There’d always been a part of August that would worry about Evie Ray. He wasn’t about to stop now.

Chapter Four

The baby doll had been found. Dinner had been consumed, the golf game between August and Mike confirmed, and after promises to get together soon, the Meyer family had taken off.

After a bout of too-tired tears, Evie had gotten the girls bathed, unpacked and asleep. She then padded into her own room, decorated in soft blues and grays, as soothing as a hot bubble bath in the middle of January. Her mother had placed a vanilla candle on the whitewashed dresser, and stuck six spunky daisies in a tall, thin glass.

The tiny bedroom felt cozy and comfortable and more like home than her bedroom suite in her old house in Grapevine.

Undoubtedly, her parents were upstairs, probably waiting for her to reappear so they could have a nice chat, but honestly, Evie wasn’t up for it. The silence was too sweet, the crisp cotton sheets too beckoning.

She sank on the lace coverlet with a sigh and finally relaxed. She’d done it. She’d made it to Florida, and she’d made it through a first conversation with August, which had been an odd mix of tenderness and crazy swirling emotions.

Yawning, Evie stretched back against the padded headboard.

Seeing August had been something of a shock to her system. She’d firmly put him in the back of her mind, in the shadows of her past. She’d had no desire to think about what could have been. No reason to remember what almost was.

Being in the same room with him had opened a million senses, and made everything in her body feel electrified. His touch had made her warm. His caring looks made her pulse race erratically. During that whole conversation with him, Evie’d noticed her brain fogging up, encouraging her to reveal things about her marriage to John that she never shared with anyone…and making that little voice in her heart wonder if maybe she wasn’t as shut down and worn-out as she’d previously thought.

Evie curled onto her side, hugging the down pillow August had placed on her bed, and tried not to feel so much.

“Evie, you okay?” After a brief knock, her mom popped her head in. “Dad and I were wondering if you were going to come back up and visit a while.”

Hastily, Evie released the pillow and sat up. “Sorry. I think the trip has caught up with me. I think I’m going to go to sleep.”

“Oh. Well, all right.” Her mom pattered on in, ignoring the subtle hint and invading her space, just like she always had. “I’m sure you remember where everything is. There’s more blankets in the hall closet. More pillows, too.”

Evie patted the one from home. The one with the pretty yellow case August had placed neatly in the center of the bed. “I’ll be fine. I think that second beer I had with August was a mistake.”

“Probably not the talk, though. You two looked like you were picking up where you left off.”

“I don’t know about that.” But it had been nice to visit with him. Nicer than she would have ever imagined. And because she felt ridiculous even thinking his touching her pillow was worth a second thought, Evie kept her voice level. “He’s a good guy.”

Jan sat down next to Evie, a puff of White Linen perfume floating around her, mixing with the sheets…making everything smell comfortable and familiar. “That August, he’s so considerate.”

He’d been more than that. He’d listened to her and made her feel more relaxed than she had in an entire year. “He was really helpful, unpacking the van and all.”

Jan picked up a pillow that had fallen on the floor and neatly set it against the headboard. “You two sure looked like you were having quite a conversation.”

“Just catching up.”

Her mom nodded. “You’ve got years of that to do. Maybe you should spend some time together.”

The words were spoken casually. So casually that Evie knew that her mother was up to no good. Drawing from past experience, Evie nipped her matchmaking in the bud. “I’m not here for another summer romance, Mom. I’m here to see you and Dad and have fun with the girls.”

“I know, but if something came along, that might be nice, don’t you think?”

No, she did not. Evie couldn’t even imagine having time or energy for a relationship. As it was now, she was lucky if she remembered to eat. “I’m really tired.”

For a split second, her mom scanned her face. Emotion filled her gaze, so strong it brought back memories of major events in their lives…Evie’s graduation, Jenna’s birth. Evie’s announcement that she and John had separated. With a sigh, Jan stood up. “All righty. See you in the morning. Good night, Evelyn.”

Evelyn said, “’Night, Mom.”

Alone again, Evie opened her suitcase, pulled out two cosmetic bags and got ready for bed. She had just crawled under the thick down comforter when she realized she’d forgotten to call John to let him know that they got there safe and sound.

Quickly, she dialed his number on her cell phone, and got his voice mail, as expected. “It’s me. We got to Florida, no problem. The girls say ‘Hey.’ Jenna’s already drawn you two pictures. I’ll pop them in the mail soon.” Then, remembering how much John hated the fancy dinners he always had to attend on his business trips, she added, “I hope you remembered to pack some peanut butter. ’Bye.”

With that, she turned off the light and pulled the sheets up to her chin. As she closed her eyes, so many thoughts filled her mind. Her past, her present.

The lack of dreams about a future, except for the ones that focused solely on the girls.

And, strangely, her mother’s sunny optimism for romance.

“MOMMA, GRANDMA SAYS I gotta eat egg sandwiches,” Jenna announced from the foot of Evie’s bed the next morning. “I hate eggs.”

Evie opened one eye to see just how upset her daughter was. A pouty lip meant not too much. Blotchy cheeks meant a real crisis was at hand and tears were on the way.

Jenna was holding Neena for dear life and balancing a tilting egg-sandwich-laden plate in the other. As Evie expected, Jenna’s cheeks were red enough to make another woman think she needed sunscreen. Uh-oh.

“Oh, Jen.” Evie rolled over and held out her arms. “Put the plate down and come give me a hug.”

Jenna put down the plate and scooted forward, pink puppy dog pajamas riding up her calves as she slipped under the covers.

Evie cuddled her close, loving the coconut shampoo scent in her daughter’s hair and the faint fragrance of hot chocolate surrounding her. When Jenna visibly relaxed, Evie said, “Now, what’s going on?”

Big gray eyes, full of worry and belligerence, stared back at her. “Grandma doesn’t want me just eating Cheerios. She said I get eggs.”

“And you said—”

“I don’t like eggs. I hate eggs! But she didn’t listen.” Jenna shifted to glare at the egg sandwich on the floor. “That’s when she handed me that.”

Evie sat up, eyeing the plate. Ugh. She’d always hated eggs, too. “And that’s when you decided to get some help.”

“Yep. I won’t eat it, Momma. I won’t.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Really?”

“Really. I know you don’t like eggs. I don’t like them, either. Cheerios are fine. What’s Missy doing?”

“Playing with Grandpa, but he says he can’t stay much longer cause he’s gonna go play golf.”

“Boy, I better get up.” Glancing at the clock, Evie did a double take. Nine! When was the last time she’d slept so late?

Jenna pulled back the covers and hopped out, Evie following more slowly. “I hope Grandma made coffee,” she muttered under her breath.

“I hope Grandma made me cereal,” Jenna said with the exact same intonation as she led the way upstairs.

Evie threw on a robe, picked up the offending plate and followed. Sure enough, her mother was at the stove, making still more egg sandwiches. “Hey, Mom.”

“Jenna shouldn’t have woken you up.” Looking around, Jan said, “Where’s your plate, young lady?”

Jenna scooted onto the chair. “Momma said I can have Cheerios.”

Jan put her spatula down and pivoted to the kitchen table. “Jenna, you watch your mouth. Evie, tell her—”

“Mom, Jenna won’t eat eggs. I thought you knew that.”

“But—”

“She won’t. Ever. Let her have some cereal and a banana. It’s good for her.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll eat something, soon,” Evie said, getting a mug and pouring a generous amount of coffee and cream into it.

With a flick of her wrist, Evie watched her mother turn off the burner and pull out a giant box of Cheerios. “Feed your daughter,” she said, thrusting the box at her with a sharp look. “Then feed yourself something. Anything.”

“Oh, Jan. Leave Evie and Jenna alone,” her dad said as he rose from the couch. “Nothing wrong with Cheerios.”

“Morning, Daddy.”

“Morning, sunshine,” Mike said, propping Missy on his hip and taking a seat across from Jenna. “How’d you sleep?”

Evie leaned close and kissed Missy on the forehead. “Great.”

A knock sounded at the door, then it opened slowly, revealing August in a faded blue golf shirt, khaki shorts and a worn leather belt. “Hello?”

Mike smiled brightly. “Hey, August, come on in. Want something to eat?”

August eyed the kitchen counter. “Got any egg sandwiches?”

Mike winked at Evie. “You bet. Jan, can you make August some breakfast?”

As they all expected, Jan bustled back in and hurried to get August a plate. Mike laughed.

Finally, August turned to her. “How are you this morning, Evie?”

She’d just rolled out of bed. She’d barely had a cup of coffee. Her daughter was pouty and her mother was ticked at her. “I’m…good. You?”

“Me?” August looked her over, for some reason making her feel pretty and attractive instead of in need of a hot shower…and well, a makeover. A slow smile lit his eyes. “I’m perfect,” he drawled.

For a split second, Evie felt perfect, too.