Chapter 99
Here We Are Again

Lucas worked the registers most of the time, but every so often he would be sent up to cover one floor or section or another when they needed him. To be sure, he was very satisfied as a cashier. He'd been told more than once before that he had exactly the temperament for the job, especially in a busy store like this. His patience was solid, and whoever he met that came looking to challenge it he would leave disarmed with complete courtesy. Maya would call it Huckleberry Power. For all that though, he also loved when he got to go along and expand his horizons. The store really was ridiculously massive, and it never became so obvious as it did on those 'on the floor' days. He would walk the surface of his given territory, and he would think. Today…

As soon as they'd turned the page from March into April, he'd been keeping his eyes and ears open for any dips in Maya's moods, her spirit… Soon, it would be one year since they'd lost Kermit.

A lot of things had changed in that time. He remembered very well what state his wife had been in following her father's death and then their son's birth. He remembered the struggles which had led her to start seeing Dr. Eisley. She still saw the woman every week, and even though she would say that she had gotten so much better since then, she wasn't ready to shut that door just yet. That was all good and fine, and he was so proud of her for the work she'd put in. But now, with the anniversary right around the corner, he worried about what old wounds might get scratched open and what it could do to Maya, to any of the Harts.

It was a constant thought, in his mind each day of the month up to now, so it held no bearing on his surprise when he spotted Abigail Hart browsing nearby. She had Wyatt with her, and though she led him by the hand, the boy was moving like someone who was very eager to get further than he was being permitted to go. So, Lucas went off to intercept them.

"Hey," he called as he neared them, and the pair turned at once.

"Hi, Lucas!" Wyatt beamed, waving his hand at him.

"Hello," Abigail smiled, too, and she had a look of slight relief, suggesting that his arrival had just facilitated things for her. He was familiar with this look, coming out of customers.

"Are you looking for something in particular?" Lucas asked. Abigail held up a piece of paper. "Want me to take care of that or of him?" he asked, indicating first the paper and then the boy.

"I'm not sure you even have…" she passed him the list with a shake of the head. Lucas looked it over.

"Well, let me check, just… I'll be back." He went off with the list. He had a good enough idea of where things would be if they had them that he could just go to the shelves, but it made more sense to look it up first, so he went to one of the terminals and started up his search. Minutes later, he went and found Abigail and her son, off in the kids' section. "Here you go," he held up the three books. "We only have the paperback for this one, but if you…"

"Oh, no, this is just fine, thank you," she took the books and let out a breath as she looked to her youngest, crouched to inspect some of the books on the lowest shelf in the corner.

"Just you two today?" Lucas asked.

"Oh, no, the others are here, too. They're with their grandmother. Wyatt wanted to come along while I picked these up." She didn't say it, but he'd guess she was thinking about the anniversary and the children, too. Knowing how Wyatt had responded to the loss, if he wanted to be with her right now, she wasn't about to tell him no.

He wanted to ask her, just a simple 'how are they doing?' or an equally important 'how are you doing?' but something about having Wyatt right there felt like the wrong time. As far as he'd seen, everyone was doing well, even with the looming anniversary. The kids had adjusted, they were coping well. Cara was still seeing Dr. Eisley, like Maya, and to their knowledge she'd had no more shoplifting incidents. Eliza was speaking again, Wyatt was not so clingy, and Sam… well, he seemed to find his balance in his friendship with Dora.

Really, the biggest turn as of late was the introduction of Stephen Brett and his daughters.

They were friends, no more, but time would tell whether this remained the same. Lucas had been surprised when he'd heard of the small… intervention… as Maya had performed it, introducing Abigail to the widower at the request of the pair's respective daughters. The way she'd done it, he couldn't see anything out of the realm of respectability. All she'd done was to create an opportunity for the two of them to get to know one another. They could do whatever they wanted after that. Really, if they removed the shenanigans, it wasn't a completely horrible idea, was it? Daphne's father had lost his wife, was left with two little girls to raise alone. He would know what Abigail was going through, and it would be a bit of extra support she could benefit from having, especially if he was willing to hold that position, which he was.

And they had been talking, and meeting on occasions. There had been a couple of events where they got to bring their kids together, going to the movies one time, and then a school play, where Eliza, Wyatt, and Stevie Brett were all taking part. Maybe for how Daphne was already becoming friends with Cara and Eliza through the cake business, there was less curiosity out in the air as to what they were all doing together all of a sudden and whether it had anything of romance in it. Half of them may have been in on this, but the Hart boys were not, and neither was the younger Brett girl.

X

Maya was at the store from opening on Saturdays, and she would take an odd little pleasure out of walking through the mall before about ninety-nine percent of the stores were opened, knowing she could let herself into one of them. The doors to the mall itself were open, so there would be a few people here and there, walking casually along, standing outside this store or that one, waiting for the opening time.

Today, as she approached the store, they had someone there waiting, though Maya almost missed her. She was sitting on the floor, legs gathered under herself, with a sketchbook open in her lap and a pencil working away. Maya spotted her in the reflection of the storefront and turned to see her in earnest.

"Stella?" she called, and the girl's head raised up in surprise at hearing her name. The surprise faded away as soon as she saw who had called on her.

"Hello," she quietly greeted her. Maya moved to approach her.

"I hadn't seen you in a while, I was wondering if maybe I scared you off."

"No," Stella promised with a shake of the head.

"Good," Maya smiled, then, with a nod to her sketchbook. "What are you working on?" In response, the girl pointed with her pencil. Following this indication, Maya saw an old woman sitting on a bench, waiting for another of the stores to open while reading a book. A look down to the sketchbook showed a portrait coming together. She might not have believed that a thirteen-year-old had done it if that thirteen-year-old wasn't this one right here. "How long have you been here?" Maya asked, not hiding her admiration of the work.

"Not long. She's there a lot," Stella explained, which Maya took to mean that this was a sketch she'd been working at before today.

"Got it. Well, I'll see you in there?" she pointed toward the store, and Stella nodded. "Great," she smiled and turned to go.

"Wait!" Stella called, and she turned again to find her crouching and reaching into her bag. She pulled out a folder and stood all the way now in order to bring it to her. Maya took the folder, intrigued already by the nervous but happy sort of look on the girl's face.

When she opened it, she understood exactly what this was for. The painting was only about the size of a greeting card, but what mattered most was that it had no doubt been done with some of the paint from Stella's birthday gift to herself, the paint Maya had helped her to find. She'd done a rendering of a dancer in motion, and the whole thing felt very alive.

"Oh, it's beautiful…" Maya responded at once, smiling. The smile she got in return led her to ask if this was meant to be for her, and Stella nodded. "I love it, thank you so much!" She might have hugged her, but other than the fact that this was a thirteen-year-old girl she barely knew, she wasn't sure that Stella would have been the hugging type to begin with. So, she performed her hug with words. "I happen to know we have the perfect size of frame in there," she nodded back to the store. "I can hang it on a wall back home. It's going to need a signature though, mark of the artist," she raised her chin and smiled, breaking into a chuckle at Stella's happy tremor as it stalled with the realization that she hadn't signed her work.

From her bag she retrieved a pen, and after Maya gave her back the painting and its folder, she crouched and used her lap for a surface. At the bottom, along the white border which surrounded the piece itself, she traced a very neat cursive, identifying this image as being the work of one Stella Buckley.

Eternally bound to her word, right after she'd let herself into the store, Maya had gone into the framing department and found just the one she needed. She left it at the register with a note to say that she'd come and pay for it later, which she would do, once Beverly was there and ready to ring her up. Even as the folder and its content sat in her locker in the back of the store, the image stayed with Maya. In her mind, she could almost hear the music, the piece that had the dancer moving the way she did. It was nothing she knew, no song in particular. It existed only in her mind. As the morning progressed, with Stella coming into the store in time to get what she'd come for, the tune rolled on, and on, and as they neared lunch time, words were coming to follow along.

"Maya…" She turned and beamed at once when she saw…

"Sam, hey!" she went toward him and hugged her brother. "Are you looking for something?"

"You, actually," he replied when she pulled back.

"Is something wrong?" Maya blinked, sensing something was off.

"No," Sam shook his head. "I don't know," he then amended.

"Okay, well… Can you hang around about twenty minutes? I'm going on break to…"

"I promised Gran that I'd get back to her and the girls," Sam shook his head again. "Mom and Wyatt went to the bookstore, I said I needed something from here quick, so I can't stay."

"Right…" Maya considered this. "New sketchbook?" she suggested.

"Sure," he shrugged, and she led him through the store.

"So, what's going on?"

"I…" Sam started, but he stalled. Whatever this was, he wasn't at ease to speak about it, for some reason or another. Maya couldn't say for sure if this was just teenage nerves or Sam being Sam or something bad, so as long as that last option was on the table, she felt that she was preparing for the worst. "Did my mother say anything to you about her and Mr. Brett?"

Ah…

"Say anything how?" Maya asked, showing herself confused.

"I don't know, it's just… They've all been around more lately."

"That's a bad thing?"

"No, not bad, I mean, Daphne and Stevie are nice and all, and their dad, too, I guess, but…" Sam frowned to himself, searching his words. He didn't know how to express what he was trying to say, but just to see his face here, Maya understood plenty.

He was thinking about their father, even as he was realizing that maybe something might have been happening between his mother and Stephen Brett. He was caught between a feeling like loyalty, to his father, but he also couldn't ignore this sense of his mother's happiness. And possibly, he was coming to realize that Stephen made his mother happy. So, what did it mean? What was he supposed to do?

"Look, she didn't tell me anything, no," Maya told Sam, answering his initial question right off. "If she is feeling something for Mr. Brett, if she wants to explore it, then… that's up to her. She's been through a lot, the last few years. It could be good for her, just like it could be good just to have a friend, which he could be."

"I know…" Sam slowly spoke, and Maya breathed out, hugging him again, this time not as a sister greeting her brother but as one who knew and shared his grief. Almost a year now…

"Show her that," Maya suggested. "In your own Sammy way. Let her know it's going to be okay."

X

It's just a day. It's going to start, and it's going to end, and then another one will start, and another, and another…

She'd almost repeated it to herself like a mantra the night before, and maybe it had worked, because she'd slept the whole night through. Now, here she was. A year ago today, her father had passed away. A year ago… her younger son was still in her belly, her elder son was still learning to walk. A year ago… a wave had come for her, carried her away until she felt like she'd never find solid ground again. She had anchors about her, family, friends… Lucas, Elliott, Noah… and still she'd been floundering.

Her feet had been safely back on the ground for some time now, and still the morning came and she felt the slightest push at her heels, like water bubbling up. It made her move to sit up in bed, to remind herself of where she was, of what was real.

"Hey… Hey, hey…" Lucas' voice floated up from behind her, and she wasn't sure if he'd been awake this whole time or if her moving out of his arms had done it. But now he was sitting up, too, and his hand was at her back.

"Just need to…" she gestured with one hand, seeking, even as the other came pressed to her heart. Breathe. A year ago, she might have said she was okay, but she'd gone far enough to understand how empty the words would have been. She wasn't okay. She knew it, and he knew it, and suggesting otherwise served no purpose. The sooner she admitted it to herself, the more chance she had to get to the other side.

Lucas stayed at her side. His arms came to wrap around her waist, and he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, to the side of her face, before he rested his head by hers. His presence was simple, but it did so much, and she showed this with one hand moving to rest over his, locking fingers together, while the other moved to find his face and hold it. Her thumb landed just under his lips, and he tipped down just enough to kiss it.

"He would be so happy, you know?" Maya told him. "Where we are now, what we built. That little boy right over there…" her eyes landed on Noah, awake and casually rolling about in his crib. "I just wish he could be here to see it."

"Me, too," Lucas replied. Maya smiled, looked back at him as she went on holding that face she loved so deeply. Seeing that same love shining back toward her, it was all she needed in the way of courage for her to know she was ready. She'd been turning this plan over and over in her head for days, but now she was as sure as she'd ever be. Looking just past him, she could see the new frame as it hung on the wall, and she was set.

"I need to make a few calls."

There was no plan for today. If there was a plan, it was simply for them to be together. Abigail and the kids, Maya and Lucas and the boys, Granny Lizzie, Luna and her girls out of Arizona… and Charles Hart, too. The man was asleep on the couch downstairs at that very moment.

Their journey with him over the past year had been one with surprising respect. It was not an empty word, it was so very loaded. For the majority of Maya's life, he had been little more than a story, passed from her father and to her mother and then to her. And then he'd appeared, and his story became that of sharp claws, leaving marks. But there'd been that book, Kermit's words travelling out to find the man, and they'd done what none of them would have believed possible, not even Charles himself. It had opened a door back into his family's good graces. The passage wasn't done with any kind of ease. His eyes had been opened, but that didn't mean everyone else would immediately take this and forget the rest. He was given opportunities though. Chances were put in his hands, to forge this new path, and it was up to him to handle them as he should.

With Maya, it took place in many letters, which were his favored correspondence. It reminded her a lot of when she and her father had started putting in calls to one another. Always, there would be this thing, this elephant in the room which personalized these years where he'd been absent, where he'd been anything except the father she deserved. Over time, as they talked more and more, the elephant felt smaller, or just unseen. Instead, they had everything they'd been building, through a shared love of music, and news of his coming grandson. Then, when he'd been there the day Elliott was born… the elephant was good and gone.

Charles' elephant could tower over his son's. So much had hinged on his decision, all those years ago, and what was worse was that, up until not so long ago, all of a year, he would make it very clear that his position had not changed. And then… Kermit. He'd been the one to open the door, and for having been the one turned away, the choice was enough to tell others around him, Maya, Abigail, Elizabeth, to carry on what he'd started in his absence. And they'd done it, in what way they could at first, and more and more after that. He still lived in Florida, but they would keep in touch, keep him updated. He'd come to visit, a couple of times before now, and after a year, Maya could say that they were in a good place. The elephant was still a shadow out of the corner of their eyes, but it was just about gone.

The only one who could not bring herself to change her views just yet was Luna, and they didn't blame her for it. She would not see or call him, and as unsure as they'd been about what would happen now, at their gathering, she'd promised that she would behave herself, wouldn't cause a scene, so long as they didn't expect her to suddenly open her arms to him. They respected that, all of them and Charles, too. To Maya, it felt like her grandfather saw his daughter's refusal as what he deserved, personified. Maybe he would earn her pardon one day, but that day was not here.

So, they were all here today. Her grandfather was staying here, Luna and the girls were at the Hart house… They would all gather out there today, and they would live this day together, thinking of Kermit. That was the idea at least, but now Maya had this thought, and she felt strongly enough about it that she called Abigail and ran it by her. Her stepmother was on board from go, and so she made her next calls.

They would spend a lot of this day at the Hart house, as had been intended, but after dinner they all took off together, Friars, Harts, Hunters, all made their way to Chubbie's.

Sitting at their table, with Noah in his lap and Elliott in Sam's, next to him, Lucas had watched his wife trail off backstage with this feeling in him like her nerves were also his own. It had been over two years now since she'd done anything like this. She would also be alone this time, just her and her guitar, no band of friends around her. She would go up there, and she would sing a song in memory of her father, a song she had only written over the last week or so, after the day the small painting had come to adorn their bedroom wall. Music had been the thing to bridge the distance between Maya and Kermit, and there could be no better way for her to honor him.

He watched her, sitting on her stool, guitar in hand, and when she started to sing, he could see everyone else even as he could hardly look away from her. There were plenty of people who were here just to have dinner or to enjoy the live music as a number of singers and bands would come and have their turn. And then there were those around this large table here, which was a trio of smaller ones pushed together. The people here knew her, and they knew of Kermit, on the whole. They connected with Maya up on that stage, and the emotions were palpable. This was for them more than anyone else in this room, and it was for herself, and for the one they came to mourn.

Lucas saw all this, and he did not miss his chance to see how the boys would respond to this, to seeing their mother out there and hearing her voice command the room as it did. It was not so loud as a concert, so there was no need for headphones. He could see Noah in his lap, sort of happily transfixed, while Elliott was sitting very upright in his uncle's lap. He saw Maya up there, and it was possible that he was enraptured by the music as much as the performer.

Maya had woken up today, wanting this day to mean something, to not just come and go, and as her final notes faded away, she knew it would, that they would all remember it for the experience they had shared, all of them who had loved him.

TO BE CONTINUED

See you next week! - mooners