Daisy Lane (38 page)

“I’ll be at home,” Grace said. “At Kay’s.”

As Grace walked up Rose Hill Avenue she saw a Greyhound bus pulling out of the Dairy Chef parking lot. The lone passenger who had disembarked looked familiar to her. She was petite, with long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had on a jean jacket and carried a backpack. Grace crossed the street in the middle of the block to get a closer look.

“Grace?” the woman said, her face breaking into a huge smile punctuated by dimples.

“Hey!” Grace said, now realizing that this was Tommy’s mother. She hadn’t seen her in three years but she hadn’t changed much. Her skin was pale, her hair a darker blonde, and there were a few more lines beside her green eyes, but she was still very pretty.

Tommy’s mother gripped Grace in a tight hug and squeezed her so hard it took Grace’s breath away.

“Oh, Grace,” his mother said. “It’s so good to see you, baby girl. How in the world have you been?”

“I’m fine. Tommy’s going to be so excited to see you,” Grace said. “Melissa? Is that right?”

“That’s right,” his mother said, as a worried frown passed over her face like the shadow from a cloud. It was there and gone in an instant.

Melissa held Grace out to look at her.

“You’re so grown up,” she said. “I hardly recognized you. Where’s Tommy?”

“They’re at the bakery,” Grace said, “for Mother’s Day dinner.”

“They moved that dinner down there from the Thorn so I could come,” Melissa said. “While I’m on probation I can’t go into bars let alone work in one. Bonnie offered me a full-time job at the bakery and Patrick’s going to move home so I can have my trailer back.”

“So they knew you were coming today?”

“Patrick knows,” Melissa said. “It’s gonna be a big surprise to everyone else. A good one, I hope.”

“C’mon,” Grace said. “I want to be there.”

Melissa and Grace walked back to the bakery together.

“I heard your grandpa died,” Melissa said. “I was so sorry to hear about that.”

“He wasn’t very nice to me,” Grace said, “but I still miss him.”

“Course you do,” Melissa said. “I had a rotten husband once, but I was sorry when he died. You just get used to people.”

Just before they reached the bakery, Melissa paused and took a deep breath.

“It’ll be great,” Grace told her. “Tommy loves you.”

Melissa smiled and squeezed Grace’s hand.

“I hope everyone else is as nice as you,” she said.

When Melissa opened the door to the bakery there was a brief silence.

Then Bonnie cried out, “Oh my Lord, Patrick, look. Our girl’s come home.”

Tommy reached her first.

“Mom,” he said.

“Oh, honey,” Melissa said. “Thank you.”

Tears fell from both of their eyes as they embraced.

Patrick took them both in his arms and squeezed them until Tommy protested.

Grace looked for Ed and saw that he was smiling, but his eyes were sad. He didn’t come forward along with everyone else; he sat back down and watched.

Grace happened to look at Ava, and was startled by the hatred she saw in the woman’s face as she watched Patrick embrace Tommy and his mother. Ava said something to Charlotte, who rolled her eyes and went back to her phone. With a determined look on her face, Ava started walking toward the hugging trio. She smoothed her skirt, patted her hair, and arranged a bright smile on her face, but her eyes were full of venom.

Grace was afraid of what Ava was going to do. Something mean. Something that looked nice to everyone else but that Melissa would know meant Ava hated her, and was going to make things hard for her. Almost without realizing she was doing it, Grace started forward to intercept her, and then noticed Claire’s mother Delia was doing the same thing. Delia blocked Ava’s path and would not move, even when Ava gave her an irritated look.

“Stop it,” Delia said to Ava, in a voice so low that Grace only just caught what she said. “Leave them be.”

Ava smiled a tight smile at Delia and then backed away, slightly bowing to the older woman as she did so. Delia turned back toward Grace and took a deep breath that had a “whew” at the end. She winked at Grace, and then said, “Not on my watch.”

Everyone gathered around Melissa and Tommy, held on either side of Patrick by his strong arms. Patrick looked so happy.

“Let’s eat!” he said.

As Grace passed Tommy on her way out, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

“Congratulations,” she said.

“I’ll call you later,” Tommy said.

When Grace got home, Kay was lounging in her chubby armchair, her stocking-clad feet propped up on the coffee table. The newspaper was spread out around her, and she was sipping her tea.

“Hey, kiddo!” she said. “What are you doing here? I thought you were celebrating Mother’s Day with the Fitzpatricks.”

“I decided I’d rather celebrate it at home, with you,” Grace said.

“Not much to celebrate with,” Kay said. “There’s some leftover vegetable soup and cookies in there, but I really need to go to the grocery.”

“You stay there,” Grace said, as Kay started to get up. “I’ll heat it up and call you when it’s ready.”

“Thank you, Grace,” Kay said. “I’ll take you up on that because I am plum tuckered out. I will probably be worthless the rest of the day.”

There was a knock on the door and Grace said, “I’ll get it. You stay put.”

It was Matt Delvecchio, and he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Hi, Matt,” Grace said.

“Happy Birthday, Gracie,” he said, and gestured behind him.

There, parked on the walk leading up to Kay’s house was a brand new bright red bicycle with a white and red basket attached to the handle bars.

Grace gasped.

“I can’t accept that,” she said, although she sure wanted to.

“You need something reliable to ride to work every day, don’t you?” Matt said. “That old bike of yours is so worn out it’s not worth fixing up. This way you’ll have no excuse not to be on time. Think of this as my investment in your future as an IGA employee.”

Grace hugged Matt as Kay came to the doorway to see what was going on. She and Matt greeted each other as Grace tried out the bicycle, riding it up and down the short block in front of the house.

“I love it,” she called out. “Kay, look at me!”

“I am looking,” Kay said. “You look great.”

“I’ll take it out for a longer ride after lunch,” she said as she came to a stop on the walkway to the front porch. “When can I start at the store?”

“As soon as you want,” Matt said. “I mean, as soon as Kay, here, says you can.”

“As long as you remember she’s going to college in a couple years,” Kay said. “If I have anything to do with it, that is.”

“I will gladly work around her school schedule,” Matt said.

“I feel awful,” Kay said to Grace. “I completely forgot about your birthday.”

“Don’t worry,” Grace said. “This has already been the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

Grace hugged Kay and then Matt and then Kay again. She was crying, but it was just that her heart felt so full there was nowhere for all her feelings to go except out of her eyes as tears.

A little later, seated in the cheerful red booth in the kitchen, Kay and Grace ate hot vegetable soup with crackers crumbled up in it.

“This is even better the second day,” Kay said.

“I saw your press conference,” Grace said.

“What’d you think?”

“I thought you did a great job,” Grace said. “I was proud of you.”

“Well, thanks, Grace,” Kay said. “It’s probably going to get pretty hairy around here for a while. Are you up to it?”

“A smart lady once told me that life is tough and we have to watch out for each other,” Grace said. “We’re in this together.”

“Happy Birthday and Mother’s Day,” Kay said, and clinked Grace’s mug with her own. “And thank you, Grace, for making it real.”

Scott let himself into his mother’s house and closed the door behind him. He’d been putting this off for weeks, but it had to be done. Each time he came he brought something he needed to complete the job: boxes, packing tape, garbage bags, and black markers. Each time he got as far as the kitchen and then turned around and left.

In the kitchen there was a large stack of broken down boxes from Maggie’s store and a pile of newspapers supplied by Ed. He looked beyond the kitchen, down the hall, to the door to his mom’s bedroom, and felt that familiar tightness in his chest, the closing of his throat. He turned to go, feeling not so much defeated as panicked to get away from these feelings.  As he reached the front door, the doorbell rang.

He opened it to find Claire, her mother, Delia, and Hannah. Claire carried a bucket with cleaning supplies in it, Delia carried a package of garbage bags, a mop, and a broom, and Hannah carried a six-pack of beer and a bag of chips.

“What are you doing here?” he said.

“We’re just going door to door, talking to folks about Jesus,” Hannah said. “Do you want a beer?”

“We’re here to help,” Delia said.

“If you don’t mind,” Claire said.

“Did you follow me here?” he asked as they filed in.

“We had Mary Pruitt call us when she saw you arrive,” Delia said, pointing across the street to the neighbor who was waving from her front porch.

“I can’t make an unsupervised move in this town, can I?” Scott said, waving back.

“No one can,” Claire said. “It’s easier just to give in to it.”

“Are those for me?” he asked Hannah as she popped open a beer and opened the bag of chips.

“Are you kidding?” Hannah said. “This is my snack; go get your own.”

He gratefully accepted the beer she offered and sat down at the kitchen table with her.

“You don’t have to stay,” Delia said as she sat down on the other side of him.

“I can’t explain it,” he said. “I just can’t go down that hall.”

“You don’t have to explain,” Claire said. “We understand.”

“Do you want all her clothing to go to the church?” Delia asked.

Scott started to respond but his throat closed up and his eyes filled with tears.

“This is your area of expertise,” Hannah said to Delia. “I just apply food and alcohol.”

Hannah patted his shoulder while Delia put an arm around him.

“It would really help me,” Delia said, “if you would go visit with Ian while we do this. He gets so lonely and restless on his own.”

Scott nodded and wiped his eyes. He didn’t look at anyone as he stood and turned to go. He started to say, ‘Thank you,’ but found he couldn’t, so he squeezed Delia’s hand instead. Delia followed him outside onto the front porch.

“Your mother was so proud of you,” she said. “You were always so good to her.”

Scott nodded and wiped his eyes, but the tears kept falling.

“Ah, honey, come here,” Delia said, and embraced him. “You did everything you could to help your mother. It was not your fault she died. It just happened. Sometimes these things just happen.”

“I should have made her go to the doctor earlier.”

“Now you know you couldn’t make your mother do a single thing she didn’t want to do, don’t you?” Delia said. “Some people are just stubborn that way.”

“I guess not,” Scott said. “I just wish I’d known how bad it was.”

“There was no way to know,” Delia said. “Now, come on, listen to me. You have got to let it go now. Let your mother rest in peace so you can get on with your life. You’re getting married to the woman you love. How long have you been working on that project? Feels like forever to me.”

“Me too,” he said with a slight smile.

“That mother-in-law-to-be of yours is as prickly as a porcupine, so you just consider me your mother-in-law by proxy. Whenever you get to feeling like you need someone to fuss over you, you just come down to my house, okay?”

“Okay,” Scott said.

“You’ve been like a son to Ian, and it helps me so much that you take him to breakfast every morning,” she said. “Let us help you through this. We can’t make the pain go away, but we can support you while you go through it.”

Scott nodded.

“Alright,” Delia said. “Now, you go on down to the house and watch golf with Ian. Then I’ll come home in a little bit and make you and Maggie some dinner.”

“Thanks, Delia,” Scott said. “You did make me feel better.”

“That’s what we mothers do,” Delia said. “It’s all part of the service.”

As he left the porch, Scott waved at Mrs. Pruitt, who lived across the street. She was slowly walking down her front stairs, holding her toddler grandson in one arm and his older sister by her hand. As Scott walked down the street past Sacred Heart Catholic Church, he waved at Sister Mary Margrethe, who was supervising a group of parishioners who were painting the food-bank building. Just ahead, he could see Kay sitting on her front porch steps, watching Grace ride her new bike up and down the block. It seemed as if everywhere he looked there were mothers, those with children and those without, helping others do the right thing, do their best, be kinder, and feel better.