Authors: Maggie Marr
“Seriously?” Jo asked.
Emma nodded. “It works best for Albie for when he’s on set. He can work around his visitation schedule with Sparkles if it’s month by month. But I think the real reason it got done is they both found someone new.” Emma leaned forward and cupped her hand around her mouth as if telling a secret. “It’s all over
People
magazine, but Albie told me a couple weeks ago.”
While Jo loathed the celebrity freight train that hammered through the offices of McGrath, Phillips, & Lopez, Emma adored it. Due to confidentiality requirements, Emma couldn’t gossip about clients with anyone but her partners, so Tulsa was more than willing to listen to Emma and her tiny tidbits of gossip.
“Thanks for taking care of that one, Em,” Tulsa said. She glanced at the clock. “Okay, ladies, I gotta go. I have one more visit to supervise and then I’m working the volleyball booster booth tonight at the carnival.”
“Enjoy the snow,” Jo said and snorted, though a quick smile followed.
“Enjoy your convertible,” Tulsa said.
She waved good-bye, minimized the window on her computer, and closed her laptop. For the first time in a while Tulsa didn’t long for the wind whipping through her hair as she roared up Pacific Coast Highway on her way to Malibu. Even with the fear of what might happen to Ash and the questions surrounding her mother—a big piece of her was grounded in the solid comfort she got from simply being home.
*
Crews of volunteers hung white lights along the Powder Springs town square. Ash and Bobby walked toward the Wooden Nickel. Across the street, Wayne wore a flannel shirt and hammered a wood plank onto the stage taking shape on the courthouse steps.
“Hey, Tulsa!” Wayne waved and then continued hammering.
She lifted her hand and returned his wave. She’d nearly forgotten the sense of community that came with living in a small town. Dozens of volunteers worked to make the fall carnival come to life. Some of the proceeds would go to the Powder Springs Food Pantry and the various sports teams’ booster clubs would be able to buy some new equipment and uniforms, but this carnival was more than just a fundraiser. This carnival was an opportunity for friends and neighbors and families to gather—to take time out from their hectic work-filled hours of each day and enjoy being together. To enjoy the crisp air that smelled more than a little of snow, to admire the giant mountains that jutted to the sky and the town with its Main Street, all-American architecture. She’d forgotten, living in LA, a place steeped in individualism, this sense of small-town pride.
The booths taking shape lined the four streets surrounding the square. Each street was blocked off in preparation for the carnival. There would be hot cider, apple turnovers, games, dancing, rides, a talent contest, and even Rose’s cinnamon rolls. The night would be cold but there would be propane heaters and carefully maintained wood fires.
The fall carnival created some of Tulsa’s fondest childhood memories. One of the few times every year when Grandma Margaret actually participated in town life. She’d bring the girls to the carnival where she would work the VFW booth selling fresh coffee and sandwiches.
Tulsa followed Ash and Bobby toward Rose’s restaurant. Bobby opened the restaurant door for Ash and he laughed at something Ash said. A wide smile spread over Ash’s face. Melancholy spiked Tulsa’s heart. She wanted a healthy and hopefully solid relationship with Bobby for Ash, but Tulsa also wanted the safety and security that a stable homelife in Powder Springs could provide. She didn’t want Ash to spend three years of high school jumping around Alaska.
Tulsa followed Bobby and Ash into the restaurant. How soon would Tulsa’s tiny family, a family that she felt reconnected to, dissolve? Ash might leave with Bobby and Savannah would stay sad and alone in the giant Victorian while Tulsa returned to Los Angeles. A hollow feeling pushed through Tulsa with the thought of her niece and her sister scattered like seeds on the wind. There was a peacefulness that dwelled within her from the knowledge that Savannah and Ash lived in the old McGrath family home, even if Tulsa chose to reside a half a country away.
Earlier Cade had texted that he’d meet them at the Wooden Nickel, but Tulsa hoped he got caught up in a depo, or interrogatories, or a status date… or anything, because she didn’t want to see him. Her feelings for Cade were as conflicted as her mixed emotions surrounding Ash’s new relationship with Bobby. All the emotions—emotions she so easily seemed to avoid in Los Angeles—pounded around her. She was barely able to contain her sadness, confusion, even bits of anger and frustration. So many emotions left Tulsa feeling worn and ragged. She couldn’t seem to find the brakes for this emotional roller coaster. Soaring highs when Ash smiled or Cade laughed and plunging lows when memories of her mother and the idea of Ash leaving bounded through her mind. Even this day, in a matter of minutes she’d gone from the comfort of seeing the square transformed for the fall carnival to feeling weighted down with the real possibility of Ash moving to Alaska. She felt the needle-like piercing of her nails in her palm and looked down. She hadn’t realized she’d gripped her hands into tight fists.
Bobby and Ash settled into a back booth and Tulsa took a seat at the counter. Tulsa attempted to not be too obvious as she watched Bobby and Ash. Over the last few weeks they’d developed an easy rhythm. Ash was animated and expressive and Bobby was present and had an easy laugh. Tulsa understood what Ash got from her dad—no judgment, no discipline (at least not yet), and an adult that listened. When they were together, Bobby truly listened to Ash. He was so present. Now he leaned forward over the table while he held his menu, enraptured with what Ash told him, his eyes wide and a giant smile on his face. Gone were any awkward moments, replaced by smiles and laughter and genuine joy. Tulsa was happy that Ash had this with her father, but she also understood the reality of how that would all shift if Bobby became the primary caregiver for Ash. He’d have to set boundaries. Create rules. Make limits. All the things that Savannah continuously did for Ash and the very reason Ash was rebelling.
“Afternoon, Tulsa.” Cade slid into a seat at the counter beside her. A warmth flooded down her spine with the caress of his voice.
Rose stopped in front of them and Tulsa turned her coffee cup skyward so that she could pour. Cade did the same.
He glanced over his shoulder toward Ash and Bobby on the far side of the restaurant.
“I’d hoped it wouldn’t go this far. I didn’t really think it would.”
“Neither did I.” Tulsa rested her chin on her hand. The inside of the diner was nearly empty. Tulsa watched Ash peruse the menu. “It’s a big change.” Tulsa turned and met Cade’s gaze. “But if it happens, it’s a big change for everyone.”
“Maybe Ash’ll tell Wilder she wants to stay here with Savannah,” Cade said and poured cream into his coffee.
“Maybe.” Tulsa sat in silence and watched Ash and Bobby. When she turned back toward Cade, he watched her. Instead of feeling conflicted, the weight of Cade’s gaze warmed her. For a moment, a settled feeling spread through her limbs.
“How’s your dad?” Tulsa asked, her voice soft.
Cade tilted his head. His surprise at her question was justified. She did nearly everything to avoid the subject of Hudd in any way other than to try to find answers about her mother’s death. But if Hudd was losing his mind, then Cade was in fact about to lose a parent and losing a parent, Tulsa knew, was one of the toughest things to endure.
“He’s…” Cade chose his words carefully. “Confused,” Cade said. “Sometimes he’s lucid and other times he’s… well… he’s like a child.” Cade toyed with the fork that lay on the counter. “Wayne wants me to find some help. Lottie’s not really trained to help with Dad’s dementia, and he wants me to start looking at nursing homes and, well…” Cade looked up from his coffee cup and into Tulsa’s eyes. “I’m just not there yet.”
Tulsa didn’t know her father and she hadn’t had much of a mother, but she had, however, had Grandma Margaret, and the idea of putting her into a nursing home would have made Tulsa’s stomach churn.
“I want to take care of him.” Cade leaned against the stool seatback. “I think my mom would expect me to take care of him. I just… I’m not sure exactly how I can.”
“You’ll find a way.” Tulsa placed her fingertips onto the back of Cade’s hand.
Electricity flashed through her even with this slight touch. She met Cade’s gaze. He, too, felt the energy that pulsed between them.
What would Cade say—what would he do once he discovered she’d met with Kyle Edwards and sought out Wilkes Stevenson? How could she possibly be with Cade if Bobby got custody of Ash? There were too many barriers between them, but in that tiny touch the energy pulsed between them and they both felt and needed to try to ignore it.
Tulsa looked away from Cade and watched Ash dip a French fry into ketchup and smile at Bobby.
“I wish we could have saved her from testifying,” Cade said.
Would it be difficult for Ash to choose? Gut-wrenching? Selection of one parent over the other had to create some kind of guilt within a kid.
“If it’s any consolation, I told Bobby I thought that Ash should finish school here.”
Tulsa turned back to Cade. She’d guessed as much and she appreciated him saying it out loud. He seemed so earnest as he watched her. He’d been there for her when her mother died. He’d held her while she cried. He’d promised her a future. He’d wanted her when really she had nothing but herself to give—and in response to all his love, she’d left without a word or any explanation. Without even a wave good-bye. Cade had deserved more than that, she owed him better than that. A sudden urge built within her to explain, to tell him the facts that surrounded her exit from Powder Springs.
“Cade, I wanted to tell—” Tulsa started.
“Have
you
talked to her?” Cade interrupted, his eyes darted from Tulsa’s face toward the back booth.
Tulsa nodded yes and bit down on her bottom lip. Now wasn’t the time to confess the details surrounding her departure. Perhaps the time would never arrive. Tulsa again glanced over at Ash. “This is her decision and I don’t want to look like I’m trying to make it for her.”
“Make it for her? Come on, she’s a McGrath,” Cade said and grinned. “No one makes a decision for a McGrath.”
“Good point.”
“If anything, you’re the best person for her to talk to. You’re not her dad and you’re not her mom. Plus you’re older than fourteen, so your advice might be semi-sound.”
“Right,” Tulsa said.
“I know she’s a teenager, but come on—you’re the cool aunt from LA,” Cade said.
“Only when I drive the convertible,” Tulsa said.
“You? Have a convertible?”
“Of course. Standard issue for attorneys in LA. We get them when we get our bar card.”
“Wow, I should have gotten licensed in California instead of New York.”
“Weather’s better,” Tulsa said.
“And so are the perks. Obviously.”
“The benefits outweigh the cons,” Tulsa said and again looked into Cade’s eyes.
“I guess,” Cade said. “If you don’t mind being so far from home.”
*
“You almost ready?” Tulsa called up the stairs to Savannah. “You’re supposed to work the volleyball booth in fifteen minutes.”
“Almost,” Savannah yelled back.
Tulsa paced from the bottom of the staircase to the front room. She glanced out the window at the darkness. The earth looked cold and hard. She had turned and started back down the front hall when she paused. Grandma Margaret. She’d been passing the urn made of white porcelain with blue daisies painted on it for weeks. She’d even set her keys on the table beside the urn as well as her laptop and her purse, yet she never really stopped and considered that there in that piece of ceramic lay the remains of her grandmother. She bit her bottom lip—somehow it made her feel unsettled that Grandma Margaret remained in the house instead of buried beside Connie, and yet this house would always be Grandma Margaret’s, no matter how many more generations of McGraths called the two-story rambling Victorian home. Perhaps this was the right spot for Grandma Margaret—not the cold earth, not even setting free her ashes on the air that blew through the Rockies, but instead in this spot, just inside the front door, almost standing guard over the family and the home she’d dearly loved.
There was a knock on the front door and Tulsa started. She looked away from the urn and toward the pane of beveled glass in the door. Tulsa opened the front and steadied herself because Bobby was one of the last people she ever would have guessed would show up on the McGrath front porch.
“Evening, Tulsa.” He tilted his head and clasped his Stetson in his hands. “Is Savannah around?”
Tulsa backed away from the door. “Uh, sure. Why don’t you… yeah, come on in.” She didn’t know what to do with Bobby. Should she slam the door closed in his face or offer him a place to sit? His eyes fell on Grandma Margaret’s shotgun, which hung above the fireplace on the wall.
“Don’t worry,” Tulsa said. “It’s unloaded and I hid the shells.”
His smile seemed weak but thankful.
Tulsa backed away from Bobby. “Let me see if I can get Savann—”
“Bobby?”
Savannah stood on the staircase above them both. She wore a skirt and her usually wild curls were tamed into a low ponytail at the back of her neck. Her gaze met Tulsa’s eyes and seemed to ask the same question that Tulsa wondered: what the heck was he doing here? Tulsa couldn’t answer her sister’s wordless question. She was just as surprised as Savannah that Bobby had the gall to demand sole custody of Ash and then appear on Savannah’s doorstep.
“Sorry to stop by without calling,” Bobby said. He turned his hat in his hands and his gaze jumped from Tulsa to Savannah. “But I thought for sure you’d just hang up on me if I did.”
“You thought right.” Savannah walked down the stairs and stopped in front of Bobby. Her face first appeared angry but the closer she got to Bobby the more her features shifted. Her mouth sloped downward and her eyebrows crinkled over her eyes.