Chapter 136
Collision Course

Maya didn't feel in control of all her functions. She spoke, and she didn't sound nearly as startled or caught off guard as she felt on the inside, as she looked into the face of Phoebe's mother, knowing she was also Dylan's. If the woman were able to hear her thoughts, it'd either sound like so much screaming or television static. But on the outside…

"Hello, I'm so sorry to bother you. Maya, yes?"

"I am, yes, I mean… You're not bothering me."

"Jo Munroe, Phoebe's mother?" she extended her hand, and Maya shook it on reflex. As she did, she felt the object in her other hand, and it connected her to a possible reason for the visit.

"You wouldn't be here for this by any chance?" she held up the forgotten phone, and the woman's face lit up with a smile which answered the question for her.

"Should have seen the look on her face when she realized she couldn't find it. And then she remembered having it here, so…" Mrs. Munroe explained as she was handed her daughter's phone. "But I have to admit, I saw this as the perfect opportunity to bring you this," she pulled a square box from the bag on her arm and offered it to Maya, who took it and felt her manners forced back into action.

"Would you like to come in?" she indicated the living room behind her. Jo Munroe walked in with her and came to sit on the couch. As she did so, she was brought into contact with the Friar brothers, who were rocking their PJs and awaiting the moment when they would be taken upstairs for bed time. When she saw them, the older woman had the very normal reaction of a fellow mother, coming upon those sweet little boys.

"Oh, hello. Now, let me guess… Elliott… and Noah?" she indicated each one, much to their satisfaction. "Phoebe's told me all about you." Hearing the girl's name earned her even more good credit from the toddlers. They loved Phoebe very much. "I'm her mom."

"Hi," Elliott waved his hand at her. For his part, Noah dashed over to his mother, and Maya lifted him up to sit on her lap, where he settled peacefully.

"Almost bedtime for you, bee," she promised, kissing his curly head. If he fell asleep right here, that would be just fine. "You want to see what Phoebe's mom brought us?" she asked him, and he nodded. As she set the box on the coffee table in front of her, Elliott came over to get a look as well. When she opened the box, Maya pulled back tissue paper before carefully pulling out an ornate vase. She remembered, just before the woman spoke, how she'd been promised this token of thanks, made by her.

"I can't tell you how much it's meant to us, everything you've done with Phoebe, and for her, too. The way she talks about you, she clearly thinks so highly of you. I just wanted to say thank you, in my way. You're an artist, too, I'm sure you understand."

"I… Yes, I do," Maya felt some of her resolve failing. How was she supposed to act normal right now? "Uh… Would you like to see the cake we made earlier?" she pointed toward the kitchen.

"Oh, could I?" Mrs. Munroe looked instantly excited.

Just as they were moving into the kitchen, Lucas came down the stairs. Thinking fast, Maya moved to pass him Noah and gave a few hurried signs. Take them upstairs. She's here. How he understood exactly what she meant, she couldn't say, but he led Elliott away without a word, his face betraying nothing of what he may or may not have been feeling at the thought of the woman being in their house. With this done, Maya returned to find Jo Munroe taking in the layout of the kitchen without any awareness of the scene back in the living room.

"You know, that cake you did for us, for my birthday, that was fantastic, and… oh…" Mrs. Munroe gasped as Maya opened the refrigerator door and revealed what she'd done with Phoebe and Stella.

"She said it was too pretty to cut, but if you wanted to take it home," Maya offered.

"Oh, no, no, really," Mrs. Munroe chuckled, showing how the statement resonated as so like her daughter. "If I do, I'll never hear the end of it. Mind you, if my son hears I had the opportunity to bring home an entire layered cake like that and didn't, well…" she laughed.

It was stronger than her. As much as she'd been playing the part, playing like there weren't all these things coursing through her mind as she interacted with the woman, clearly some part of her wasn't playing off the same partition. And when Jo Munroe started going on about her son, Maya found that her mask and her inner thoughts went and swapped places. She couldn't say what her face looked like, but clearly it caught the woman's attention and, while she couldn't understand exactly what it was about, she could definitely tell that something was wrong.

"Are you alright, sweetheart? Do you need to sit?" Jo touched her arm, and Maya flinched.

"I can't do this…" she breathed and took a step back. Her arms felt like they wanted to cross in front of her, or just encircle her belly, something, but she wouldn't let them.

"Do what, swee…"

"Don't," Maya shook her head. "That's not fair, that's…" She felt like she had to pace, to move, but she had to stay right there and look at her and be honest. "I wasn't going to say anything, but I'm standing here with you right now and it feels like I'm being disloyal to one of my dearest friends, and I can't keep pretending like I don't know who you are, or who you were." She didn't want to sound hostile, and she genuinely hoped that she didn't come off that way. She was giving her the option of leading with honesty. If she took it, great. If she didn't…

Jo Munroe blinked, staring at her for a few seconds. When she bowed her head, pressed her closed hand to her forehead before looking up again, Maya could see a woman who'd either feared that this moment would come or felt maybe like it needed to come.

"How did you know?"

"I didn't. Dylan's the one who figured it out. He was here, the night of the storm. He heard Phoebe talk about this allergy to mangoes that you have, that she and her little brother have, when we were there to make a cake for your birthday the following day," Maya explained. Jo Munroe slowly moved to sit at the table. "He had to piece it together, from remembering your husband's name, and knowing Phoebe's age… He didn't tell her anything, and I don't think he's looking to just spring it on her. It really affected him, realizing why you left, realizing you didn't actually go that far," Maya continued as she went and sat across from Mrs. Munroe. "I wouldn't have told her either."

"You must have a very low opinion of me," the woman spoke after a beat. It wasn't accusatory, more on the edge of defeated.

"I don't know you," Maya shrugged. "All I have is pieces of stories, and old memories, old feelings. Losing you, it shaped Dylan a lot. Mostly, it just made him so kind, so loving to the people in his life, but it came at a cost. The first thing he and I ever truly bonded about was how we both had a parent who walked out on us. For me it was my father, and he recognized that in me. He's been there for me ever since. I… I spent a lot of years resenting my father, hating him, for what he put me and my mother through when he left. But then a few years ago, he came back into my life, and we… we managed to patch things up. So, I guess you could say I do have room for sympathy. It's not given freely, but… The way Phoebe speaks about you, I have to think it's not completely impossible."

"She was so small when she was born," Jo Munroe sniffed. "The way her doctor and the nurses would speak to us, some days it was as though they were trying to tell us not to get attached, she wouldn't live. I was a while to recover from the birth, and Peter had to see to both of us, we…"

She paused, like she was digressing. Maya was inevitably captivated. It was hard not to be, sitting here with her third child growing in her belly, the other two still so small.

"Some days, it felt like we were being punished for what we did. But then there were other days, and… she was getting better, making a turn, holding on… She was so easy to love…" Jo smiled, reminiscing. Maya breathed quietly, her hand to her belly. "It was a very complicated time, and I hate to even think about it, but we had to do right by Phoebe, vulnerable as she was. We had to give her our entire devotion, and by the time she was home, and everything was looking better, well… Time never stopped moving forward, and I… I was a coward," Jo shook her head. "I couldn't go back, I…" she spoke, almost more to herself than her host. "I couldn't go back…"

Maya stood and brought back a tissue, which she handed to the woman sitting at her kitchen table. Jo Munroe took it, giving a silenced thanks as she dried her eyes with shaking hands. She sat with her again, waited in the heavy silence.

"You thought it would be easier for them. But deep down you knew it was just easier for you," Maya finally stated, again without accusation, and the shamed sob that came from the woman was enough to show it was unfortunately just so. "Will you let them meet?" she went on to ask. The question resonated with Jo Munroe. Meeting meant telling her children the truth, and that terrified her. "It's not going to get easier," Maya had to point out. "But it probably will get harder, the longer you wait. And one day you might regret it taking so long, either you will, or they will. My father and I had a year before he passed." If this was to be part of Kermit's legacy, to help bring those siblings together, maybe even mother and sons…

"I… I wouldn't know what to say…" Mrs. Munroe took a breath.

"Start from the beginning, or from something they know as an absolute. You love them, you and your husband. That's just the truth. You don't have to tell them every single thing, but tell them something… It's better if it comes from you."

"I can see why she likes you the way she does…" the woman looked at her, just a little lifted again, breathing lighter.

"She's a great kid," Maya smiled, the way Phoebe always had her smile.

"There aren't words enough for how great she is," Mrs. Munroe agreed. She would not struggle to show how true her love was when she'd tell Phoebe her secret. That love was one of the most genuine things about Jo Munroe.

Maya soon saw her guest off to her car. She told her how she'd have to tell Dylan about all this, and she received no objections. Instead, Jo asked if she could call her again, to talk, and Maya told her she could. After she was gone, Maya went back into the house, there to find Lucas waiting for her, sitting on the bottom stairs leading above.

"Did you catch any of that?" she asked him.

"Parts of it," he confessed as he opened his arms. She came to stand where he could close them again around her. "When you tell Dylan about today, can I be there, too?" he asked. He wanted to be present for his old friend.

"Of course," Maya nodded, brushing at his face with her fingers.

He craned up his neck enough so he might kiss her, holding there a few moments before letting out a breath, one of his hands coming back around until he could rest it to her belly, thinking of their unborn son in there. If he only knew already how wonderful his mother was.

"I hate this…" Maya shook her head and sighed after a few seconds' silence had gone by.

"I know, so do I," Lucas confided. "It's not that we did anything wrong, we just got caught in the middle of it by accident, but we're there, so it feels like we're… complicit."

"Yeah…" Maya hummed. It all seemed easier, didn't it, when it was just him and her, like this. Nothing was happening, everyone was okay, and they were together. Except… "I can't stop thinking how any day now she might tell them. Phoebe and her little brother will know about Dylan, and Kyle… I don't know how much she'll tell them, but she'll at least tell them that, right?"

"It's kind of the whole point, isn't it?" Lucas reminded her.

"It is," she agreed. "I have to call Dylan now, let him know. He's going to have to tell Kyle… and their dad… and their mom…"

"Do you want me to do it?"

"No, it's alright, I can do it," she promised, as nervous as she felt about the whole endeavor.

"Then how about having some back-up?" Lucas suggested, and her smile returned and regained her face, flowed to her arms, drawing him closer again so she might kiss him once more.

"Don't I always?"

TO BE CONTINUED

See you next week! - mooners