Chapter Twelve
"I'd like to see Watson alone," Kristy said when they were in the hallway outside of Watson's room. "If that's okay."
Mrs. Brewer nodded and touched Kristy's shoulder gently before taking Karen and David Michael into the room with her. Stacey and Mary Anne had stayed at the Brewer mansion, volunteering to look after Emily Michelle and Sarah. After her mother disappeared into Watson's room, Kristy doubled back to the elevator and rode it down to the first floor lobby. There, she went into the gift shop. She wanted to get something for Watson, but what could she get? What would even begin to say that she was sorry? Kristy browsed over flowers, toys, magazines, and cards before she finally found the perfect thing. It was a statue of a little girl dressed in an oversized baseball uniform. Her baseball hat was slung low over her forehead. In one hand, she carried a baseball bat and in the other, a ball. On the bottom of the statue, which was shaped like a batting plate, were the words, "Daddy's Little Baseball Buddy." Kristy figured it was appropriate. Watson had always encouraged her interest in softball when she was a kid and had often taken time out to help her with her team and play catch with her in the yard. She added a "Get Well Soon" card and was just returning up to Watson's floor when her mother was leaving the room.
"Is it okay to go in?" Kristy asked, clutching her gift bag nervously.
Mrs. Brewer nodded. "Only for a few minutes," she replied.
Kristy took a deep breath and stepped past her mother, into the hospital room. It was quiet. The TV was turned off and the only sound was a little beeping noise from one of the machines. Watson was laying in bed, his eyes closed. For a moment, Kristy just looked at him. He looked the same, and yet he wasn't. His thinning hair was a little grayer, and he wasn't wearing his glasses. The white hospital gown he wore made him look washed out. And he looked frail laying there amidst all the hospital blankets.
Kristy cleared her throat. "Watson," she said timidly.
Watson blinked his eyes open and turned, narrowing his eyes as if it would make him see who it was. After a moment, his eyes widened even further. "Kristy?" he finally managed to say.
Kristy nodded and stepped further into the room. "It's me, Watson."
"Oh, Kristy." Watson closed his eyes for a moment and then reopened them. When he did, they were glistening with tears. "Oh, my. I never imagined . . .are you all right?"
"Of course I am," Kristy said gently. She set the gift bag on the table next to him and pulled up a chair. "I should be asking you that. I came as soon as I heard. I was worried."
"Don't you worry about me," Watson replied. "I've never felt better, especially now that my daughter's back."
Kristy smiled. For a few moments, they sat and talked quietly. Watson's face betrayed no anger or resentment or even disappointment. Just joy and happiness, and even more so when Kristy told him about her daughter. She left out some of the more painful details, and he didn't ask. She just told him she'd been in New York with her daughter and that they'd talk more about it later. Watson seemed pleased.
"Thanks for coming," Watson said after a nurse poked her head in and told them that time was up.
"I wanted to," Kristy replied honestly.
She leaned over and gave him a gentle yet firm hug. "I'll see you soon," she promised. Watson nodded, already drifting to sleep. Slowly, Kristy crept out of the room to where her mother was waiting. Mrs. Brewer didn't say anything. She just wrapped an arm around Kristy's shoulders. Then they headed home.
That night, Karen begged Kristy to baby-sit Sarah. "I'm old enough," Karen was saying excitedly. "We can go to the movies and I'll take her for an ice cream."
Kristy wanted to say no. Not that she thought Karen was irresponsible or too young. She was remembering Sarah's breakdown and was worried that Sarah might not react well to someone who was a complete stranger, especially in a new place, away from New York. But when Karen said the magical words, "Ice cream," Sarah's face lit up.
"Ice cream!" she squealed. "Oh, Mommy, please can I?"
"Please?" Karen added.
Kristy couldn't help but smile. She supposed it would be good for Sarah to get to know Karen and the rest of her family. "All right. Not to a movie, but for some ice cream. Only for about an hour."
"Great!" Karen said excitedly.
Kristy gave Karen enough money for two ice cream cones at Friendly's. "Have fun and be careful," she called as Karen and Sarah hurriedly left. It was still daylight outside, though it was growing darker by the minute. "And be back in an hour!" she added.
"Boy," said Stacey, coming up behind Kristy as Kristy closed the front door. "You sound like my mother."
Kristy turned and raised her eyebrows.
"When I lived in New York when I was a kid," Stacey went on, "I could never get out the door without my mother telling me to have fun and be careful. I always thought she was being so overprotective. I thought I was so grown up. Then I look out the window at Karen and Sarah and Karen looks so young. Even though she's a year older than we were."
Kristy nodded in agreement, following Stacey's gaze out the side parlor window. Karen and Sarah were heading down the driveway, their identical blonde heads bobbing as they chatted. Karen held tightly onto Sarah's hand. She really did look young. "Suddenly I understand why my mom was so overprotective," Stacey finished.
Kristy looked out the corner of her eye at Stacey. It was so weird how close they'd gotten in the past couple of months. Way back when, they would never have considered themselves close. At least, not any closer than anyone else in the club. In middle school, friendships were so restrictive, so defining. So and so was your best friend and that was it, and you weren't supposed to be closer to anyone else. Stacey had Claudia, and Kristy had Mary Anne. They had to stay in their perfect little roles, never breaking out of the mold. But now, Mary Anne might as well have been a stranger. Kristy didn't even know how to begin to break the ice between them. And Stacey had been more supportive than anyone else. It was odd, but at the same time, strangely comforting.
She didn't say anything about it, though. She just changed the subject. "I have to call Clive," she said. "I don't know when I'll be going back to New York. If at all. My lease is up soon. Maybe I should find somewhere here in Stoneybrook to live."
Stacey nodded and Kristy hurried up the stairs to her room. Closing the door behind her, she had to admit that it was nice to know she could be by herself for an entire hour while Sarah was in Karen's care. She sat in an armchair by the window and for a few moments, gazed outside. In the street, a few kids were running around in the dusk, trying to finish a game of kickball in the street before it became too dark. Lights were flashing on in people's homes. Kristy pushed open the window and allowed herself to breathe in the cool, fresh scent of late autumn air. It was beautiful.
But was it home?
She shook the thought from her head and went about gathering her courage. Then she took the phone and sat back down in the chair, dialing Clive's number.
He answered right away. "Hello?"
She took a deep breath. "Hi. It's me. Kristy."
"Kristy!" Clive exclaimed. "Are you all right? I was worried by your message."
"I'm sorry to have been so brief," Kristy said formally. "My stepfather had a heart attack."
Clive was quiet for a minute. "Is he all right?" he asked finally.
Kristy nodded. "Yes. It was a mild one, thank God. He should be out of the hospital in a few days."
"And you're at home in Stoneybrook?" Clive asked carefully, a hidden question. He knew, of course, that Kristy had not seen her family in years.
"Yes," Kristy replied. "I had to come home. My family needed me."
"Of course," Clive agreed. "I, uh, I'm glad that you went, in that case. And is everything okay?"
She knew that he was asking about more than Watson. She sighed. "I guess so. I mean, yeah. Everyone's glad to see me, I suppose, but it's a little weird. And Sarah was a big surprise. Not to mention my best friend. Or rather, former best friend. She's practically not even speaking to me, she's so mad."
She could practically see him nodding on the other end of the phone. "Everything will work out, Kristy," he said softly. "You took a big step in going home after all this time. It was very brave."
"Brave?" she repeated.
"Yeah. You knew that your family might have mixed feelings about seeing you. I'm sure you were nervous. But you knew that your stepfather needed you, and so you went anyway. I consider that brave."
Kristy let out another sigh. "I guess."
"I know."
They were silent for a few moments. He always knew what to say to her, always had little words of wisdom that lifted her spirits a bit. Kristy's mind drifted to a memory. About a week after they'd started dating, she and Clive had gone to his apartment after work. Stacey had stayed with Sarah that night. Clive had rented a movie and they made dinner together. Nothing fancy, just a simple meal. Kristy couldn't even remember what they ate. But after a few hours of watching a movie, they'd begun to kiss and had retreated into the bedroom. And afterwards, instead of laying and staring at the ceiling, Kristy had rolled over onto her side and cuddled into Clive's arms.
"Do you think I'm pretty?" she had asked him.
Clive looked down at her and he didn't answer right away, which oddly enough, Kristy had liked. She knew that he was considering his answer and that he would be honest. Clive wouldn't sprout off an automatic, "You're beautiful" line to his girlfriend just so she wouldn't get into a discussion about her insecurities. Finally, Clive smiled a soft little smile and nodded slightly. "Yeah," he answered.
"I never used to think I was," Kristy said, talking more to herself than to him. "You should see some pictures of me from middle school or high school. I was always in jeans and baseball caps. My friends used to tease me about it. I never cared, much, I guess. But sometimes I'd look at friends like Stacey, who was gorgeous even then. I'd feel envious, and I'd wish that I were one of those naturally beautiful girls who could look good even wearing just jeans and a baseball cap with a collie on the front."
Clive turned over and gazed at her. "I think you're beautiful," he whispered, dropping a kiss onto her cheek. And Kristy had really felt beautiful. Just the way he said it, the way he intimately kissed her cheek, her forehead, and finally her lips. He meant it. And she never wanted him to leave her.
"Kristy?" Clive's voice cut into her thoughts now. "Are you there?"
Kristy coughed. "Yeah, I'm here."
"So, can I assume you'll be home next week?" he asked.
Kristy bit her lip. "I don't know. My mother wants me to be home for awhile. To help, you know. And, I mean. . .my lease is almost up on the apartment. I might, you know, decide to move back to Stoneybrook. To be near my family."
Clive was quiet for awhile. For so long that Kristy asked, "Are you there?"
"I'm here," he said finally. "Well, if that's what you decide, then I'll be sorry to lose you."
Did he mean personally or professionally? Maybe both?
"Yeah," she said quietly. "I'm sorry."
She heard him take a breath, as if he were going to say something. But then he said, "Take time with your decision. I've got a very good temp here for a few days. And whatever you do decide, then I'll be happy for you."
"Okay," she murmured.
Maybe a small part of her wanted him to object, but he didn't. Or didn't allow himself to. Either way, a few minutes later, they hung up the phone. Kristy held her phone in her lap and curled her legs up, staring out the window as it got darker and darker outside.
And a little darker in her heart.
The next few days were a flurry of activity. Word of Kristy's return in Stoneybrook spread, somehow. Karen and David Michael told their friends, who told parents, who gossiped in the mall or the grocery store. Everyone had known Kristy. The BSC made her very popular among parents and being outspoken made her popular among her peers and children. Talk ran wild. "Did you hear?" they'd whisper among themselves. "Kristy Thomas is back."
"Kristy Thomas? No!" another would hiss in disbelief.
"Yes! I heard she's got a kid now."
"Well, she was always a responsible baby-sitter."
"I guess so. By the way, did you catch the baseball game last night?"
Kristy spent her time helping her mother around the house and taking Sarah places. She took her on a long walk through Stoneybrook, pointing things out. "There's where Mommy lived, a long time ago," she'd say, pointing to the house she lived in on Bradford Court before her mother married. Sarah seemed enthralled with Stoneybrook. And she adored Karen. While she liked Stacey and Emily, she positively loved Karen. She clung to Karen's side even more often than she clung to Kristy's, and Karen didn't seem to mind. She took after Kristy with a love of baby-sitting, and Sarah was her new favorite charge. They played dolls and dress-up games, colored, made up cheers for pretend cheerleading games, and watched dozens of movies. Kristy had to admit that she liked the closeness between aunt and niece.
Watson came home from the hospital a week after he'd been admitted. On the day of his return, Kristy helped her mother hang a banner and set up for an impromptu, quiet welcome home party. Karen baked cookies and Sarah even made a sign in her best writing that said, "Wellcome home Watsun." It was the cutest thing Kristy had ever seen, so she hung it proudly next to the banner.
Mrs. Brewer drove Watson home from the hospital that afternoon. He came in slowly, holding onto Mrs. Brewer's arm. Even though he looked tired and weak, his eyes lit up when he saw Karen, David Michael, Emily, Mary Anne, Stacey, Kristy and Sarah waiting with the decorations and cookies. "Oh, how lovely," he said. "I love parties."
So they spent the afternoon in the living room, talking and making jokes and eating cookies, even watching a couple of movies. It was the most relaxing afternoon that Kristy had spent in a long time.
At least, until that evening. After the party wound down and the younger children retreated to their rooms, Kristy put Sarah to bed early. Then she headed back downstairs , but stopped short when she heard her name mentioned. It was coming from the kitchen.
"It's going to take some getting used to," Watson was saying.
"Kristy's been through a lot," Mrs. Brewer replied. "You have to go easy on her. I know that having her return has been an adjustment for us, but she's my daughter and I love her."
"I love her too," Watson replied, "and of course I'm happy that she's all right. For the most part. But I think, now that we've had some time to get used to the idea, that we should all sit down and talk about where to go from here. Is she planning on returning to New York or is she going to stay in Stoneybrook? For that matter, does she want to stay here or in her own place? Is she planning on going to college? We need to make these decisions."
"Yes, and we will," said Mrs. Brewer. "But give it a few more days. We're all still getting used to it. I'm even still having a hard time talking to her. Can you imagine? She's my daughter and I don't know what to say. She just seems so much. . .older. Like a stranger."
"I know," Watson agreed.
Kristy bit her lip, tears forming in her eyes. From the way that they were talking, it seemed like they weren't even happy for her. She didn't want to hear anymore. She grabbed her sneakers and sweatshirt, which had been by the front door, and hurried out of the house into the cool autumn night. One she was on the front porch, she sat down to put on her shoes and sweatshirt. Then she stood again and began walking down the long driveway.
It was getting colder outside. When she breathed, she could see the puffy white breath in front of her face. She wished she'd thought to grab a hat, or maybe some gloves. She stuck her hands into her pockets and kept going. She needed to walk for awhile, and think.
Even though her feelings were hurt, she had to admit that Watson and Mrs. Brewer's questions were legitimate. But she didn't have the answers. She was torn in between New York and Stoneybrook. Stoneybrook would always be home, but was it where she needed to be? She missed New York. She missed her freedom, missed not being the center of attention wherever she went. She missed Willow Books and, as much as she hated to admit it, she desperately missed Clive. She missed her apartment with the view, and she missed Emily. But when she was in New York, she missed her family. Maybe she just couldn't win. Either way she chose, she would miss out. If she moved back to Stoneybrook, she'd miss her independence and her life in New York. If she went back to New York, she'd miss her mother and her family.
But they could keep in touch now, she reminded herself. She didn't really have to hide anymore. That thought cheered her up.
She walked down McLelland Road and turned, heading towards town. It was late and things were starting to close down, but she kept walking anyway, looking into store windows and studying her own reflection in the glass. Her mother's words came back to her. A stranger. So much older. Did she really look that way? Kristy couldn't really tell. But then, she was so used to looking at herself that she probably couldn't objectively decide, anyway. She shrugged and kept walking down the road, her hands in her pockets. She walked in a million circles, just like her thoughts, before she finally headed back towards Watson's house.
She was so lost in her thoughts when she walked up the driveway that she was blind to the rest of the world, so she was surprised when someone said, "What are you doing out here?"
She looked up, startled, and saw none other than Mary Anne coming down the driveway. "Hi," Kristy replied, pausing, wondering if Mary Anne would stop her silent treatment.
"Hi," Mary Anne said warily, slowing down but not completely stopping.
"I'm just walking around," Kristy explained. "Lots of thinking."
Mary Anne nodded and then she did stop. "What are you thinking about?" she surprised Kristy by asking.
Kristy let out her breath. Mary Anne's expression wasn't exactly friendly, but at least she was talking. "I don't know. Where to go from here, I guess. I have to make some kind of decision, you know?"
"So, I guess that means you're leaving again," Mary Anne snapped.
"Leaving again? Not exactly," Kristy replied carefully. "I mean, I'll probably go back to New York, but it wouldn't be like I'm running away. Everyone would know where I was and I'd keep in touch."
"Are you sure you know how?" Mary Anne shot back.
Kristy closed her eyes for a brief moment, Mary Anne's retort stinging. When she opened her eyes, she decided to choose her words carefully. "Why are you giving me a hard time, Mary Anne? If I hurt you, then I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
"Oh," Mary Anne said, crossing her arms. "You didn't mean to just run away and torture everyone, thinking only of yourself?"
"Torture everyone!" Kristy exclaimed. "I didn't do that."
"Are you kidding me?" Mary Anne cried. "You should have seen what you put your mother through. She was worried sick. She walked around looking like a zombie for months. Not to mention your friends. I mean," Mary Anne started to look choked up, "we didn't know if you were dead in a gutter somewhere, or in trouble, or. . .or anything."
Kristy's own eyes were getting misty. She glanced around, but nobody seemed to be within hearing distance. It was getting dark and everyone was secure in their homes for the night. Kristy sighed. "I wanted to write, and call," she explained. "I did. But I just didn't know what to say."
"Wanting to doesn't change the fact that you didn't," Mary Anne pointed out.
"I know. I can't tell you how sorry I am. But I had to do this. I had to do what was right for me."
"How can you even try to justify that?" Mary Anne asked. "Running away is never the answer, Kristy, especially when it puts other people in a position to be freaked out."
"Why are you so mad at me?" Kristy demanded.
Mary Anne looked her straight in the eye. "Because I think what you did was incredibly selfish and irresponsible and not at all like the Kristy Thomas I thought I knew," she replied evenly, coldly.
Kristy was stunned. In all of their years of being best friends, Mary Anne had never spoken like that to anyone, much less Kristy. Mary Anne was always the shy, sensitive one. But maybe it was just another example of that stepping out of the mold thing.
She took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions. "Look, Mary Anne," she stated, "I didn't intentionally try to hurt anyone. I'm sorry that I did, especially you. But you don't know what I was going through. You don't understand. You wouldn't have understood."
"How do you know that?" Mary Anne demanded. "I'm your best friend, Kristy. Maybe you didn't mean to hurt me, but you did. I just needed you to talk to me. If you would have, I would have been there for you. You know I would have. I've never judged you, not once since we've been best friends. And then you started seeing Stacey, confiding in her, when I was just as easy to look up. You knew Stacey was friends with me but you never tried to see me or talk to me, even now. It took an emergency to get you to come back. I'm just wondering, if Watson never had a heart attack, if you would have came back at all."
"Of course I would have," Kristy began, but Mary Anne cut her off by shaking her head.
"No, you wouldn't have."
"Stop!" Kristy cried. "Just stop it, Mary Anne. I'm sorry. I can't say enough how sorry I am. I screwed up, okay? I'm well aware of that fact." Kristy's eyes had filled with tears that were beginning to spill over now, but she kept on shouting. She couldn't take Mary Anne's tirade anymore. She felt closed in, like she couldn't breathe. . .
"You have no idea," she went on, shouting and not caring anymore who heard her. "You have no idea what I was going through, or what happened to me. You don't know what I was feeling. You don't know what it feels like to be betrayed by the person who means the most to you."
Mary Anne shook her head. "Steven was a jerk," she said. "That didn't mean that we all were. Did you even try talking to anyone?"
"There was nothing that anybody could say," Kristy snapped. "Nobody could do anything. I made a mistake and I'm still paying for it. I'll be paying for it for the rest of my life. I love Sarah with all my heart, and I can't imagine my life without her. But that doesn't mean that I don't have to deal with the fact that my life doesn't belong to me anymore. Every day, it's Sarah first. I have to make sure she's taken care of, I have to make sure that she's happy and developed and I have to make up for the fact that she doesn't have a father. Someday I'm going to have to tell her that her father walked out on us, just like my mother had to tell it to me and my brothers. Do you know how much I hate that? How much I hate the fact that I had an asshole for a father, and because of my irresponsibility, an innocent girl will have to go through the same thing?"
Mary Anne was just looking at her, tears running down her own face. "I just had to deal with this on my own," Kristy finished quietly.
"Being a mother," Mary Anne said finally, "doesn't mean that you need to forget about your friends."
They looked at each other for a few moments. Both were breathing hard. Kristy was strung out emotionally and she started to feel a bit dizzy from her tears. She wiped them away quickly and nodded, sniffling. " I know," she said finally. "I know that now. That's why I came back. I wasn't going to. But . . . I came back."
"I'm glad you did," Mary Anne said softly, taking a few steps closer. "I missed you, Kristy."
Kristy's tears began to spill again and she stepped forward. She and Mary Anne embraced, both crying. "I would never not be there for you," Mary Anne murmured. "That's what best friends are for."
It seemed like once Kristy started crying, she couldn't stop. She let out all the tears that she'd been holding in for three years. She cried for Steven, she cried for Sarah, and she cried for the broken friendships that she could only hope to try and repair. But mostly, she cried for herself. Mary Anne just held her, patting her back and smoothing her hair. Finally, physically weak and mentally exhausted, Kristy's tears slowed and she wiped her eyes. "God," she said, taking a step back from Mary Anne. "I haven't cried like that in years. Not even when Steven left. It
felt . . .good."
Mary Anne nodded solemnly. "I always say that a good cry can cure anything."
Kristy looked at her, Mary Anne raised her eyebrows and almost at the same time, they cracked up. What a switch! Mary Anne was the one who usually cried at the drop of a hat. Kristy had teased her relentlessly about the "water works" when they were younger.
"Come on," Mary Anne said, still smiling as she put an arm around Kristy's shoulders and turned her towards the house. "I'm sure we can find a beach towel inside for you. It's going to take more than Kleenex to fix this cry fest."
Kristy laughed again and together, they headed up into the mansion.