(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)
Chapter Eight: "Well, I Want"
Evy
Her ponytail bounced against the back of her head as she ran through downtown. The music from her ear buds thundered in her ears, syncing with the way her feet pounded the pavement. She had always liked running down Ocean Avenue. The street ran parallel to the beach, stretching from the residential area where the house was all the way down through the center of the town. The breeze off the ocean usually cut through the heavy warmth, making the southern California temperatures tolerable. It was the perfect weather. She was a California girl to the core.
Mom forced a bright smile and hugged her tight, the street traffic drowning out the sob that rose in her throat. "Mom," she sighed, squeezing her back, "I'll be ok."
She looked up quickly, brushing away the tears from her blue eyes. "I know, darling. I know." She found herself nodding as Mom cleared her throat. "Promise me you'll keep warm."
She laughed and squeezed Mom's hands as they stood in front of the hotel. "Are you kidding? It's freakishly humid and hot here! I mean, thank God my dorm has air conditioning!"
Dad squeezed the back of her neck as he rejoined them, finally through with supervising his and Mom's luggage being packed into the trunk of the chauffeured car. "She means in the fall when it gets cold," he answered before he wrapped his arm around Mom's shoulders.
"Darling, don't tease me. She's not used to the cold weather," Mom said to him as he rubbed her arm.
"I'll carry my sweatshirt with me," she promised, ignoring the smirk on Dad's face.
"Especially when you go for a run, darling," Mom insisted as she leaned against Dad.
She nodded and reached out, hugging both of them with each arm. "I promise," she replied as they hugged her in return. Sandwiched between them, she closed her eyes and lingered in their embrace for a long moment. It would be awhile before they stood like this again.
She shook her head and reached up, clicking the button on the cord to increase the volume. Running through Central Park this past fall was nothing like this. The gentle hills, the curve of the paths, the fallen leaves crunching beneath her feet. The music vibrated in her skull as she set her jaw, her eyes darkening. Dad had been right. She might have been a California girl, but she loved New York City. She loved living there.
Dad had been right about everything.
The shadow of another runner appeared on the side walk next to hers and she looked up. Benjy Evans smiled back at her and held up his hand in a wave. Her pace didn't change but she felt the shiver that went down her spine. She glanced over, watching the way he turned back to the road as he ran alongside her. After a moment, he glanced back and she saw herself reflected in the dark lenses of his sunglasses. Her reflection startled her and she forced herself to look away. Why was she grinning at him like a moron?
(Because he's cute, the voice in her head insisted.)
She barely knew him.
(Don't be stupid, Evelyn. He's not a stranger. You've known him your whole life.)
They didn't have anything in common.
(You're both running down Ocean Avenue. There. Common ground. Literally.)
He was older than her.
(Big deal. Dad was older than Mom.)
She was only back home for a few months before she went back to New York.
(Keep. In. Touch. Snapchat. Instagram. FaceTime. Game. Set. Match.)
The playlist streaming on her phone stopped, signaling the end of her run. She slowed to a stop, pulling out her earbuds. It was another moment or two before Benjy realized she was no longer running alongside him. As she pressed her hands into her waist, she took a deep breath as he trotted over to her. "Hey, Evy."
She pressed her hands into her cheeks, trying in vain to stop herself from beaming at him. "Hey, Benjy. I didn't know you were a runner."
He shrugged, slowly walking alongside her as they cooled down. "Running here is different than running through Berkeley."
With a nod, she draped her earbuds around her neck and smoothed her hair back. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Running in Central Park was so different."
He nodded and a comfortable silence stretched between them. She peeked over at him, watching as he stretched his arms across his chest one at a time. She cleared her throat, ignoring the sheen of sweat on his bare arms as she heard him ask, "You run every morning?"
She nodded. "Since I've been home, I mean. It's not like I've got a whole lot else going on."
His voice dropped solemnly as he asked, "How's your mom doing?"
With a deep sigh, she shrugged. "Her shoulder is getting better," she said diplomatically. But, it was true. Physically, Mom was doing better. She hadn't needed painkillers for the last two weeks. The physical therapist was happy with how her scapula was healing. She could move her right arm more and didn't need the sling practically at all. But, as for everything else…
"That's good," he said with a smile. She nodded, watching as he rubbed the back of his neck and grinned sheepishly. "So, maybe- maybe we can run tomorrow? Together?" The muscles of her stomach tightened as she watched him silently. "You know, keep our minds off how different Sunset Beach is from New York and Berkeley?"
He liked her. She knew her name. She knew the sky was blue. She knew he liked her. Always play hard to get, darling. Mom's words danced through her as she shook her head. His face fell and he sighed deeply as she said, "I don't think so. I don't like talking when I run."
His face suddenly lit up as he stepped closer, pulling his sunglasses off. "Well, what if we run together in – wait for it – silence?" She looked away, her head cocked as if she was thinking. Her heart pounded in her chest and thundered in her ears as she heard him fill the silence with, "We can get breakfast at Dolce after." She glanced back, feeling her lips curl into a smile as he continued, "You know, coffee. Pancakes. The whole nine."
She folded her arms against her chest. "Pancakes?" she scoffed. "Ugh, carb central."
He laughed. "Well, I want pancakes. But, I had a feeling you were all about the avocado toast."
She shook her head and giggled as she replied, "Avocado toast is so last year. I leveled up to quinoa breakfast bowls."
"What do you know?" he marveled softly. "Dolce has those on the menu."
As she ran her arm across her forehead, she allowed herself to say, "Ok, I guess. I'll meet you at the corner of Ocean and Bridge tomorrow at eight." He grinned and she couldn't help grinning in return.
He liked her…
…and, she might like him.
Sean
He rubbed his face as he walked into the kitchen. He flew in yesterday, determined to spend as much time with Mom as possible for the two-and-a-half days he was in Sunset Beach. Daily phone calls with her just hadn't reassured him. Hell, Evy was concerned enough that she withdrew from college. But, now, the house was quiet. He heard his sister leave an hour ago. Casey left a short time ago to take Harrison and Nicola to school. Bette hadn't arrived yet. Mom was still sleeping…or, at least she was in her room feigning sleep.
His phone chimed and he looked down, swiping the screen. Caitlin. He tapped the bubble, opening her text message. How's Mom? Evy isn't answering me and Casey said he was out dropping the kids off. With a sigh, he quickly typed out a reply, hoping it would reassure his older sister. He knew she was as worried as him, only she couldn't visit Sunset Beach the way he could. She was on doctor-ordered bed rest until her fourth child was born. With a pang, he turned his phone over and leaned over the counter, his head in his hands. Caitlin's new baby wouldn't know Dad. His own youngest child wouldn't remember Dad at all.
From behind him, he heard the rumble of the automatic garage door opening and he stood tall, rubbing his face. With a deep exhale, he turned around as the interior door opened and Evy walked in. Her cheeks were still rosy from her run, but she was breathing evenly. "Hi!" she said, flashing him a dazzling smile as she hugged him quickly.
"Wow," he exclaimed, squeezing her tight before she stepped back. "You're in a great mood. Good run?" Her only reply was another ear-to-ear smile and he watched her for a long moment. She seemed almost…like herself again. Not the quiet and sad girl he had driven to the airport the day after Dad's funeral.
"I can walk you to your gate," he said, squeezing her hand as he balanced Hope on his hip. They stood in the middle of the terminal, after his wife and three other children left for their gate on a different concourse.
His younger sister shook her head as his daughter wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'll be fine," she murmured.
Her mirrored aviator sunglasses made it impossible for him to see her eyes and figure out if she really was as fine as she claimed to be. "I don't mind," he insisted. "Hope likes the planes and-"
"Please, Sean." She looked up at him, her blonde hair messily tucked into a faded Yankees hat. He sighed, remembering the last time he had gone with Dad and Evy to the Bronx for a game. It was in the new stadium and it had been a good day. The late spring weather was perfect. The Yankees won. Mom and Shasta came with them to New York, but they had gone shopping instead of coming to the ball game. "I need…"
"Need what?" he asked, watching as she pulled her hand free and wiped her cheeks. Hope's arms squeezed tighter around his neck and he felt her face turn into him.
As he rubbed his half-asleep daughter's back, Evy said, "I need to be alone. I'm tired of talking."
He nodded slowly and reached out, hugging her against him. She trembled and he whispered in her ear, "Text me then from your gate. Text me until you board the plane and turn off your phone."
"Sean…"
"Please, Evy." She looked up slowly and he wondered if she could hear how tight his voice suddenly became. With a small nod, she hugged him quickly. He watched the transformation as she forced a bright smile to her face. "Bye, baby!" she said, pushing herself on her toes so she could kiss Hope's forehead.
"Bye, Aunt Evy," he heard his daughter murmur sleepily.
As quickly as it appeared, the smile faded from his sister's face as she looked back at him. Like the rest of the family, they had tried to do a good job faking it for the children. But, it couldn't be sustained for long. He watched her turn from him, gripping the straps of her shoulder bag as she walked away.
"What's in here?" she asked brightly, pulling the top off the small cardboard box.
He sighed internally and rubbed his mouth. "Some stuff Shasta sent for Mom."
"Oh?" He winced, hearing the way her voice rose to a teasing pitch. "TSA let you bring her potions through security?" He shook his head, ignoring her playful dig, as she continued, "Has Mom seen it?"
He rolled his eyes as she began to root through it. "No. She's still asleep."
With a quick glance down at her smart watch, she nodded. "She hasn't been coming down until after nine most mornings." She pulled out one of the bundles of dried sage and held it to her nose. "Actually," she said after she inhaled deeply, "she might like this. It smells nice. Kind of reminds me of Tahoe."
He grimaced, anticipating her reaction as he explained, "It's for smudging. You burn it to clear out the bad energy."
Evy watched him in silent disbelief for a long moment before she burst out laughing. He was unsurprised. His wife's homeopathic tendencies often ran aground with his more conservative family. "Oh, Sean," she gasped as she clasped her hands over her heart, "that's beautiful. Really beautiful."
There was that sarcasm she had inherited from Dad. He shook his head and playfully punched her arm. "Hey! Remember, that's the mother of your nieces and nephews you're making fun of."
"Shhh," she said as her hands dramatically fluttered out around her. "I'm clearing out the bad energy."
"Ha. Ha. Ha." His phone chimed and he had a strong feeling it was another text message from Caitlin. He cleared his throat, thinking back to his discussion late last night with Casey. They agreed on their sisters. "Hey, Evy," he began, letting his voice drop to a serious tone, "what's going on with you and Cait?"
The transformation was instantaneous. Evy's face turned as she dropped the sage back into the box and folded her arms against her chest. "Why? What has she said?"
Her questions were so cold, so uncharacteristic of her that he was momentarily stunned. Well. It seemed Casey was right on where things stood with their youngest sister. He knew where things stood with Caitlin. "She hasn't said anything," he said, hoping a half-lie could keep the peace. "But, I've noticed you and she have gone out of your way to not mention each other."
Her eyes darkened and he saw the way the line of her jaw tightened. He was suddenly reminded of Dad and the way he reacted when he donated his BMW to charity. He inhaled sharply, struck by how much Evy resembled their father, as she sighed, "She has gotten so bossy! Like: don't let Mom do this. Or: make sure Mom does this. My all-time favorite was: How could you leave school, Evy? You're only going to make Mom worry about you!"
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "God, you both are so much like Dad."
Her eyes flickered to his. "Sean, she thinks she's in charge of this family now that Dad's dead!"
"She doesn't. She doesn't any more than you think you're in charge." She rolled her eyes and looked away. "You both are so much like Dad," he repeated as he reached out, touching her shoulder gently. "Always thinking about taking care of Mom, of all of us. Just like Dad did." His throat swelled as she slowly looked back at him. "He only ever thought about Mom, about all of us. But, always Mom first." She nodded, blinking rapidly, as he dropped his voice to a whisper and said, "I used to think he was bossy and overbearing. And, sometimes, he could be. But, I know now it was only because he loved us. Just like you love us. Just like Caitlin loves us." She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes as she sighed. "So, give Caitlin a break. Ok?"
Her brown eyes flickered to his. "You going to tell her to give me a break too?"
He bit back a retort and nodded slowly. "Yes, Evy. I will." He reached into the box and pulled out a sage bundle. "Now, come on. Let's go light this bad boy."
A small giggle rose in her throat as she said, "We should wait until Mom comes down. I can't wait to see her reaction to all this."
Casey
He rubbed his face, wincing at the way the rough stubble scratched his palm. He needed to take care of that before Diana arrived at the end of the month for a visit. If she were here now, she would've pushed him into the bathroom, stood in the doorway, and refused to move until he shaved.
As he neared Olivia's office, he saw the door was half-open. He lingered in the crack, watching as Morris passed her a legal-sized envelope. Despite his initial misgivings, and Evy's ongoing suspicion, he had to grudgingly admit…Morris was alright. Maybe it was because Ben's demands were at the forefront of his mind. The conversation with him the other day. The daily messages, one for him and one for Olivia. The email from this morning. In comparison, Morris had been nothing but deferential and respectful of Olivia's feelings. Quite frankly, he was benign in comparison to Ben. In fact, he had begun to think it was good that Morris was a daily visitor. He was a touchstone to Gregory in a way that he and Evy weren't.
He frowned and rapped on the door frame, pushing the door all the way open. "Hey," he said as Morris stood and Olivia looked up. "Sorry to interrupt, but-"
"It's alright," Morris interrupted. "I was on my way out anyway."
Olivia reached out, taking his hand. "Thank you, Morris."
He watched Morris pat her hand and smile kindly, but he said nothing else. She swallowed deeply and nodded as he gently let go of her hand. "Casey, have a good afternoon."
He shook his hand and nodded. "See you tomorrow, Morris." When he left, he closed the door quietly and turned back to his stepmother. "How's the shoulder feeling after this morning's PT appointment?"
She shrugged and gently raised her right arm over her head. "A little stiff, but it doesn't hurt," she said softly as she made a slow circle with her arm. He sat in the arm chair next to the sofa where she sat and sighed deeply. How could he even begin? "What's wrong?" she asked softly.
The reply was out of his mouth before he could think, before he stop himself. "Everything." Well. That probably wasn't the best way to begin. He grimaced as he watched her sigh.
Slowly, she reached out and took his hand. "I know," she murmured, watching him carefully. "When my mother passed away, my father was completely devastated." Her eyes glazed over and he could see a memory from long ago waltz across her face. "In an attempt to comfort him, I told him things would get easier a little bit each day." She scoffed and turned back to him. "How utterly naïve- no, how wrong I was to say that to him."
He shook his head. "You tried to help him. The same way Cait, Sean, and Evy are trying to help you."
With a gentle squeeze, she replied, "You meant to say, 'Caitlin, Sean, Evy, and I are trying to help you'."
He nodded shortly and pulled his hand back as he anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. "You might not include me in that when you hear what I have to say." Her eyes crinkled as she looked back at him. "I saw Ben the other day." A shadow fell over face as if she suddenly saw the road he was taking her down.
The long moment of silence concluded with one word from her: "Liberty."
He nodded. "He said decisions need to be made. That you're the majority shareholder now and he can't make decisions without you."
She leaned back in the sofa, resting her head against the back. "Without us," she murmured. He cocked his head as she continued, "Your share is nothing to ignore."
No one has any experience until they start. We'll get to work when Olivia and I get back from Italy. He cleared his throat and swallowed past the boulder suddenly lodged there. "I don't know anything about Liberty," he forced himself to say. Her eyes flickered to his as he continued, "And, well, I want…I mean, I asked- I wanted Gregory to-"
"I know," she whispered, saving him from the struggle of explaining how much he had been looking forward to working with Gregory. He shouldn't have been surprised Gregory told her he wanted to learn about Liberty. And, he wasn't. Not really. Instead, it was just a reminder of how suddenly their lives had changed. How quickly their plans disappeared into a puff of smoke. She sighed his name and sat up slowly. "Of the four of you, I feel saddest for you," she said softly. He felt himself pale as she continued, "Caitlin, Sean, and Evy had Gregory their entire lives. They have a lifetime of memories. But, you…you only had him just over a year."
Almost fifteen months. Gregory had been his father for almost fifteen months when he died. He nodded and leaned forward, his elbows digging into his knees as his head spun. As he gasped back a sob, he felt Olivia's hand on the back of his neck. Her palm was warm against his flesh as he heard her say, "I'm sorry you didn't get more time with him."
He wiped his eyes as he glared at the carpet beneath his feet. He should have. He was supposed to. With a deep sigh, he rubbed his face with both hands and forced himself to sit up. Her face was awash with anguish as she gazed back at him, her mouth drawn in a thin line. "Me too," he said, his jaw tense and tight.
She leaned against the arm of the sofa, slowly rolling her right shoulder. "None of us were ready," she murmured, pressing her hand into her forehead. "We weren't expecting him to…" He glanced over as she trailed off, aimlessly twisting her necklace. "I think that's why it hurts so much more this way. We weren't prepared to lose him. Not yet."
"Not yet," he repeated softly as he blinked.
With a deep sigh, she sat up and said reluctantly, "So, Ben thinks it time I got back to work?"
He cleared his throat. "He's not the only one who needs things from you. The estate lawyer, the accountant, the insurance company, the bank, the stockbroker…they all need something from you."
The corners of her mouth raised in a sad mockery of a smile. "Bette and Evy have done an outstanding job of managing my messages, haven't they?"
"With their stubbornness and their iPhones, the two of them could rule the world," he murmured.
Her eyes dulled as she leaned forward, almost as if she wanted to share a secret with him. "I know I won't be half the teacher to you that Gregory would have been…and, for that, I'm sorry."
He sighed, surprised by the seriousness with which she apologized to him. "Olivia, Gregory trusted you more than anyone. He left everything to you." He shrugged and met her eyes as he concluded, "If he trusted you with his Liberty stocks, then I trust you with mine."
She blinked as her throat worked. "Thank you, Casey."
Bette
The bartender slid a new glass of Chardonnay across the bar and she beamed as she looked up. "Todd, this – this right here – this is why you're my favorite. I never need to ask you for a second glass."
He leaned against the polished wood and flashed her his trademark megawatt grin. "Now see, I thought it was my charming personality and good looks that made me your favorite."
She smirked and raised the glass to her lips. "Well, those too."
He winked and turned away. The buttery Chardonnay was smooth down her throat as she looked back up, scanning the tables at Grenadine's. Her column had been woefully neglected for almost two months. Though now, thanks to social media, her column was a living, breathing, real-time force of nature. With Olivia slowly getting better and Sean in town, she had left the Richards family to themselves tonight. Tonight, on all her social media platforms, it was time to get the Queen of the Night back in circulation.
She put her glass aside and pulled her tablet closer, quickly typing out a note about the couple in the corner table. "My, my, my," she murmured, "how quickly they moved on from their ex-spouses."
"As I live and breathe…this can't be Bette Gordon."
She glanced up sharply. "You're a few husbands behind, fella," she said, feeling a spark of recognition in the face of the man at her left elbow.
With a chuckle, he glanced down and smoothed out his tie. "Has it really been that long?" he asked softly, moving closer to her.
Her brain raced as a playful smirk lit up his face. Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, it all made sense. She gasped aloud, her hand coming to her mouth. "AJ?"
His smirk widened as he extended his arms, as if presenting himself for inspection. "The one and only," he said as he reached out, catching her hand as it fell away from her mouth. A moment later, she felt his lips brush against her knuckles as he murmured, "It's wonderful to see you again, Bette."
She shook her head slowly, still beyond surprised to see him in Sunset Beach. She hadn't seen him in this town since the early 1970s. "What are you doing here?" she gasped, unable to keep the bewilderment from coloring her question.
With a gentle squeeze, he let go of her hand and smiled again. "The mayor has named me honorary chair of the town's centennial committee." She watched as he glanced around, almost modestly. "It was somewhat touching he asked me. It's a wonderful way to honor all my father did to incorporate the town."
"I'm sure," she mused.
He leaned against the bar, his knee brushing her leg. "Think of it. The Great War was still ravaging Europe in 1917. My father, Armando, came to California, something of a pioneer, and saw a future in this small stretch of sand." He smiled warmly and sighed deeply. "The centennial ball in July will be a celebration of him, the Deschanel name, and the town."
She grinned and leaned in. "Care to go on the record for my column?"
He chuckled and shook his head, drumming his fingers against the bar. "Not quite yet," he said, his voice dropping. "But, I'll see to it you get an exclusive when the mayor announces the centennial committee the day after tomorrow."
"I'll clear my calendar," she said in a playful whisper.
"I look forward to it." He stood tall and smoothed out his suit coat. When he looked back up, she saw a suddenly somber expression on his face. "I heard the unfortunate news about Gregory Richards." She nodded slowly, but said nothing as he continued, "I would be remiss if I didn't ask how poor Olivia was doing?"
She sighed. "As well as can be expected," she said softly.
He sighed and covered her hand with his own. "Please extend my deepest sympathies to her the next time you see her."
"I will," she said softly before he squeezed her hand and turned away without another word. She exhaled deeply as she massaged her temples. "A Deschanel in Sunset Beach Again," she mused, opening an app on her tablet. "No. Sunset Beach's Native Son Returns." She nodded, pleased with her first line as she began composing a tweet dedicated to AJ's reappearance in town.
Evy
She walked up the stairs, leaving her brothers behind on the patio with some of Dad's cigars. Their laughter and deep voices echoed in the still night and she couldn't help the grin on her face. It was a good night. A good day. The first one she remembered since mid-January. Instantly, her face fell. Was this what moving on felt like? Dad was still dead, but things were starting – almost – to feel normal again.
As she turned onto the second floor, she passed the rooms where Harrison and Nicola slept. She ignored the door to her own bedroom and walked down to the end of the hall where the master suite was. Mom seemed different at dinner. Of course, Mom had been holed up with Morris before dinner, then Casey went in to talk with her. At the table, she was quiet, but that wasn't unusual. No, it was her face. It was the expression on her face. She looked like someone intently focused on a puzzle, but who was nowhere near completing it. She knocked on the door, waiting until she heard Mom say, "Come in, Evy."
Her face turned as she opened the door. "How did you know it was me?" she asked, stepping in and closing it softly behind her.
Mom's tired expression looked back at her from the bed. "I can hear – and smell – Casey and Sean from the patio." Her own eyes flickered to the open windows as Mom continued, "The children are asleep."
"Such a genius," she murmured. As she crossed the room to the bed, her eyes were drawn to the urn sitting in the center of the triple dresser. She reached out, her hand resting on the lid for a long moment. With a sigh, she felt a tremor go through her as she waited to feel something – anything – of Dad in the gold container. But, she didn't. There was nothing. Just an emptiness as big as Dad was when he was alive. She looked over her shoulder, seeing Mom watching her with an unreadable expression on her face. "Sorry," she sighed, pulling her hand back as she walked over to the bed.
"It's alright, darling," she murmured as she crawled across Dad's side of the bed and lay her head in Mom's lap. "You know, I think Daddy would be disappointed to have ended up on the dresser next to my jewelry box."
She shrugged as Mom's left hand ran over her hair. "I don't think so. He's on the dresser in your room. I think he would've wanted to be wherever you were."
With a sad sigh, Mom looked up and watched the urn for a long moment. "Perhaps." She sighed again, one that was deeper and longer, as her eyes turned down to hers.
She reached out, caught Mom's right hand, and squeezed it gently. "Mom?" she asked. "What's the deal with Morris?" It had to be him that caused Mom's silence at dinner. Nothing Casey could ever do would've caused it.
Mom's blue eyes crinkled. "What do you mean, darling?"
She shrugged, letting Mom's fingers comb through her hair. He's here every single afternoon. He appeared out of the blue. Dad never mentioned him. There's something you're not telling me. "You and he were in your office for a long time today," she finally said. Mom sighed deeply and she turned her eyes away, looking instead at Dad's perfectly made side of the bed. "He's here every single day. What does he want?" she finally asked.
Mom shook her head slightly, but didn't look at her. "He doesn't want anything, Evy." she replied softly. She leaned back against the intricately carved headboard, the wood cracking and creaking in the silence. "It's what I want – need – from him."
She frowned, confused. "Mom, what could you possibly need from a man you haven't seen in years?" Slowly, Mom looked down at her. There was that expression again. There was something she wasn't saying. Something like…a secret. None of this made sense. What was she keeping from her? "Mom?"
She sighed, her hand still running over her hair. "I asked Morris to help me translate some articles from an Italian newspaper."
About the accident. She was still trying to remember. "Mom, why would you do-"
"I don't need your permission, Evelyn," she replied sharply.
A chill went through her as Mom's voice echoed in the silence. You both are so much like Dad. Always thinking about taking care of Mom, of all of us. Their eyes met as she squeezed her right hand again. She suddenly remembered how irritated Mom was a few weeks ago when they were looking at old photos with Casey and Nicola. Mom didn't want to be babied. "I'm sorry, Mom. Of course you don't." She sighed, trying a different approach. "I just meant…why didn't you ask me to help? Or Casey?"
Mom's expression smoothed out to one of calm. "I think- I think your father," she began, "wouldn't have wanted you or Casey to read the details in them." Her voice was soft as she continued, "I don't either."
"Ok," she whispered back. A long heartbeat pulsed between them before she asked, "Was that why you and Morris were in your office for so long?"
"In a way." She waited for her to say more, but she didn't.
"Mom? Please tell me," she said softly. "I want- I want to understand. And, even if I can't read the articles, I want to help." Mom's blue eyes narrowed as she continued, "I want to help you. And, I- I won't tell Casey, Cait, or Sean."
With a small sigh, Mom nodded. Her hand rested atop the crown of her head as she began, "In one of the articles…there was a man who found us aft- after the car accident." She nodded, listening intently as Mom's voice cracked. "He was the one who pulled me out of the car." Mom stopped speaking abruptly as her expression fell, her face suddenly pale. "He gave an interview to the newspaper a-and he said that your father told him to help me first," she murmured as she lowered her head.
She squeezed her eyes shut, listening as Mom's breathing became short and choppy. He only ever thought about Mom, about all of us. She felt Mom's hand tremble within hers and she gripped it, forcing her eyes open. "Th- that sounded like something Dad would say," she croaked, seeing Mom nod.
"This man spoke to Daddy. He was the last one who did," she continued, brushing at her swollen eyes. "I don't know if he said anything else or if he can tell me something that might help me remember. I asked Morris to find him for me."
Slowly, she sat up and hugged her mother. It was something to feel both of Mom's arms hug her back. For almost the last two months, she had been used to her one-armed hugs. With a gentle squeeze, she looked up and nodded reassuringly. "I understand, Mom," she whispered as Mom cupped her chin. "It'll be our secret. I promise."
"Secrets," Mom murmured, tucking a blonde lock of hair behind her ears. It was a comforting gesture that instantly made her feel like a little child again. When Mom would brush her hair off her face when she would run off the soccer field at half-time. "Secrets used to get me in trouble."
"Not anymore though." She sat up on Dad's side of the bed and leaned against the headboard. "And…I have a secret too," she said teasingly, gently locking her left arm with Mom's right one.
"Oh?"
She nodded and grinned, suddenly desperate to give Mom something else to focus on, if only for a few minutes. "I went running this morning…and I saw Benjy."
She glanced up, watching as Mom gazed blankly back at her. "Benjy," she repeated softly. "Benjy Evans?"
With another nod, she curled into the pillows as she said, "He asked if he could run with me tomorrow morning. Then, he's going to take me to breakfast." She was quiet for a long moment before she heard Mom scoff. "What?" she laughed, so delighted to hear something that sort of sounded like laughter from Mom for the first time in almost two months that she didn't even comment on it.
"Oh," she marveled as she met her eyes, "I'm just thinking how different you are from me." She rolled her eyes as Mom continued, "I never would've worn gym clothes on my first date with Daddy."
She giggled and leaned against her. A moment later, Mom's right arm wrapped around her. As she snuggled against her, she teased, "I mean, have you even ever worn gym clothes?" For as long as she could remember, Mom had always been immaculately dressed, even when she would come to her Saturday morning soccer games.
"Not since I was a child," she sniffed and she looked up with a smile.
"Besides," she continued, "I'm not ready to call this a first date." She grinned when Mom frowned, like she was confused. "I pulled an Olivia Richards and played hard to get."
She rolled her eyes and drew her closer. "Just…just be careful, darling." Now, it was her turn to frown and be confused as she continued, "Be careful with Benjy."
"Why?" she asked.
But, Mom only shrugged vaguely. "Don't rush into anything with him. You're going back to school in a few months. And, what about What's-His-Name? The boy you were going on and on about at Christmas?"
She paused. Danny. She had forgotten about him after Dad died. She hadn't even seen him when she was in New York for the few days it took to pack up her dorm room, store her belongings in a storage unit, and sort out her withdrawal request. He had texted her a few times, but she never responded. He must have gotten the message, because she hadn't heard from him in more than a month. Besides, returning to school was months away, she thought to herself. Months. "He wasn't so important, I guess," she said softly.
