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Authors: bobby hutchinson

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“I don’t like ice cream. I got sick from it at the fair,” Simon declared, lip thrust out. “I want to go fix toilets with Rocky, he gives us salami and pickles on buns.”

Ian whined, “When is my mommy coming for us?”

Shaking, Anna sent them to their room and went to hers to meditate for twenty minutes. When she came out, they’d poured orange juice from the fridge into the fish tank and three of her fish were dead.

Trembling, she called Bruno on his cell, but he must have turned it off, the coward. She sent the boys outside to keep from screaming at them and when she glanced out the window they were knocking the heads off the lilies with a stick.

“They had bugs eating on them, they were rotten anyway,” Simon told her when she rushed outside. “And Ian peed in the pond.”

They both fell on the lawn laughing.

Anna snatched the stick and did deep breathing to keep from using it. She repeated her mantra—
Allllll Is Wellllll
—but it didn’t do a thing. She’d lost her center, and it infuriated her. What good is all this spiritual practice if it deserts you in a time of need?

She thought of calling Karen in Mexico and telling her to come and get her kids, but she remembered just in time that the reason Karen was in Mexico was she’d flipped out and shaved somebody’s head. She probably couldn’t be trusted with kids right now. This must be how Karen had felt just before she stepped over the edge.

Finally she called Sophie at the hospital, insisting it was a family emergency. Sophie was apparently dealing with a motorcycle accident or something inconsequential, and it took awhile before she came on the line.

“I hear you,” she said cheerfully when Anna stopped gibbering. “They can be real littie beggars when they want; don’t let them get you down. I’ve gotta go, we’ve got an MVA arriving. Why don’t you phone Rocky for some tips? Here's his cell number, he’s a genius with kids.” She rattled it off and hung up.

Rocky. Yeah, right.

Anna figured Sophie was in that euphoric sexual state where she believed Rocky could settle the Middle East crisis if somebody just asked him. She’d been that way with Bruno in the beginning.

But maybe Rocky would come and take them. He’d done that for Sophie, and Anna was doing his wedding. Wasn’t it only fair?

She called him, explaining that there was only the jade plant left and the wedding was seven and a half days away and someone had to understand that she didn’t know what to do with small children, she had no experience, what if something happened to them—besides her beating them half to death with their own stick?

“Gosh, Anna, I’d gladly take them with me, but I’ve got this big job on a union site, and they won’t allow kids,” Rocky said, and Anna’s heart hit rock bottom. “They’re basically good, but they’re boys,” he said, grunting as he finished tightening something. “Okay, now let’s turn the water on here and see what we’ve got,” he muttered. Anna felt like screaming. He wasn’t paying attention. “Just be straight with them. Don’t make threats you don’t intend to carry out or promises you can’t keep. Talk to them, use bribery if you absolutely have to. Watch them every minute. Oh yeah, and remember, you’re the boss, you’re older and bigger than they are. Ooops, gotta go, Anna, I’ve got a leak.”

So did she. Her sanity was leaking out of her crown chakra, she could practically hear the hiss. She slammed the phone down just in time to catch Simon putting jade leaves in a bowl and pouring milk on them for a snack for Ian. She was going to have to divorce Bruno, that’s all there was to it. When a man didn’t keep his promises, that was the end.

“Why can’t we eat leaves off of plants, Auntie? Food is plants, right?”

Be straight with them. “Because that jade plant is in that corner to bring prosperity and peace to this house,” she managed to say through clenched teeth. First opportunity, she was phoning that feng-shui woman and telling her it was all a crock. “And it’s poisonous. If you eat it you’ll get really sick and Auntie Sophie will have to give you something to make you throw up, and you won’t like it at all.”

“We already did that, after we went to the fair. Ian throwed up on Tessa and on Auntie Sophie’s new rug, and it went on the wall, too. We don’t like barfing.”

What a consolation. “What did Auntie Sophie do?”

“She cried.”

That was comforting. Enlightening as well. Even Saint Sophie had broken beneath the strain. Anna felt a tiny bit better. And if she kept them talking, there wasn’t much they could get into. “Tell me more about the fair,” she coaxed.

Simon was in the middle of some far-fetched tale about the Ferris wheel breaking down when Ian interrupted. He said in a plaintive voice, “Auntie Anna, when is our mommy coming for us?”

She remembered he’d said it before. And like a flash of light, Anna got it. She’d always had powerful psychic abilities. Besides, she’d taken psych at university.

If they were bad enough, if nobody wanted them around, their mommy would have to come and get them.

They were missing Karen with the same aching longing Anna remembered feeling when she was a little girl. She’d wanted her mommy, and more often than not, Georgia wasn’t there.

Another revelation hit her like an asteroid. Was she afraid to be a mommy, because she didn’t have a pattern? Was she scared because she knew she’d get it wrong, like she had with teaching? Sometimes it seemed as if the only really perfect thing she’d ever managed was to marry Bruno, and look what these kids were doing to her marriage.

Except it wasn’t Simon and Ian.

It was her. Admitting it shocked her so profoundly, she forgot how mad she was at Bruno. It also made her heart ache for her nephews. They were stuck with her the same way she was with them.

“Why don’t we draw your mommy pictures and color them, and then we’ll walk up to the post office and mail them?”

She’d write Karen a note, lie through her teeth, tell her how good her kids were, say how much fun she and Bruno were having with the boys. What was the old saying?
Fake it till you make it
. She was going to fake for all she was worth, and when Bruno turned his damn cell on again, she was going to talk really dirty to him the way she used to do, before she took up spiritual abstinence.

Simon said, “Is Uncle Bruno coming back soon to get us a basketball?”

Anna said, “You better believe it, kid.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

 

Trust in God, but tie up your camel

 

 

“I can’t believe this, Fletch.” It was a good thing he was sitting down, because Eric figured his legs wouldn’t have supported him. With the wedding only two days away, he’d stopped by to find out what Rocky needed him to do, exactly, as best man. But Rocky had gone for a haircut, so Eric was having a coffee with Fletch.

“I was pleasantly surprised myself,” Fletcher said in that mild way of his. “I knew Karen would get some money from Canada Pension, and Nicols was a member of the dockworker’s union. They pay survivor benefits. But that shoebox of stuff you brought showed Nicols had been paying extra premiums, pretty hefty ones, too. All together, she’ll get about three hundred fifty thousand, not a fortune by any means, but it’ll be a nest egg. There was mortgage insurance on the condo as well, and because they weren’t divorced, that’ll be paid off, too.” Fletcher smiled. “Guess the guy had some residual sense of responsibility after all, huh?”

It galled Eric to have to nod. It pissed him off to admit that Nicols had provided for Karen.

Eric preferred to think of him the way he always had, as a man with no principles, no conscience, no saving graces.

“Karen’s gonna be surprised.” Big understatement. “I’ll call her and tell her the good news.” This was a windfall for her, and that at least made him feel good.

Not much else was doing that these days. He was having some sort of emotional crisis. He missed Tessa when he was away from her; that hadn’t happened with anyone before, and it bugged the hell out of him.

Fletcher said, “Good news about the wedding. You guys have always been good friends. It’s sorta nice that now you’ll all be related.”

“Yeah, it is.” Although Eric had always thought of Rocky as his brother anyway. Not that he had any problems with Rocky marrying Sophie, everybody had been waiting for it to happen for years now. It just made Eric feel a little abandoned, which was plain old stupid.

“So what do I do, on Saturday, at this wedding, Fletch?”

“The usual best man stuff. Keep track of the ring and the groom, make certain he’s sane and sober and on time, sign as a witness, say a few words at the reception, all that good stuff. It’s really kind of Anna and Bruno to have the wedding at their place.”

Eric had been pleasantly surprised at that, after the performance Anna had pulled about the boys staying there. He’d half expected there’d be a divorce instead of a wedding, but the other night when Eric stopped by Bruno looked happier than he had in months. Anna too. She’d even invited Gladys and Henry on Saturday.

“They were at my wedding. I feel as if they’re family,” Anna had said, which Eric figured was true, if a person happened to be related to the Munsters.

Fletcher leaned back in his chair. “Rocky’s moving most of his stuff out tonight, over to Sophie’s condo. You could give us a hand with that if you’re free. My back’s not as good as it once was.”

“Sure thing. Gonna be different for you, Fletch, living here alone.”

“Maybe it’s time for me to sell this place and get myself a bachelor pad.”

They both looked around at the clutter, papers and books scattered on tables and chairs, the computer table in the middle of the living room, the bicycle in the corner, ten pairs of shoes by the door. Funny, Eric thought, how different houses looked when women lived in them.

Tessa’s house, for instance, was full of big fat soft cushions and armchairs that sort of wrapped around you, and old, faded rugs and healthy green plants. Women’s houses smelled different, fresher, not so much like sweat gear and trainers and takeout pizza. He was beginning to think maybe he oughta scrap that couch he’d made and buy one with some springs, whenever he went back to living at his own place again.

“Rocky tell you Tessa’s buying Synchronicity?”

Clara had caved. She and Tessa’s lawyer had hammered out an agreement. Tessa was at her lawyer’s office right now, going over the fine points and signing it.

Fletcher said, “I heard that. Tell her congratulations, and I’m thinking of joining Synchronicity myself once the legalities are settled. I want to find a nice lady who’d like to go traveling.”

“Give it some thought,” Eric advised. “Now that Tessa’s buying the business, you’ll have less chance than ever at a refund.” He hadn’t managed to get the girls their money back, and now it didn’t look as if he ever would. The agreement had been with Clara, as Tessa was quick to point out. Funny how the money didn’t really bother him anymore.

“I wouldn’t be looking for a refund. I’d see it more as an investment. So how are things going with Tessa, Eric? Is she the one you’ve been waiting for?”

That brought a flash of irritation. What made Fletcher think he’d been waiting for anybody?

“We’re just good friends, Fletch.” Too good, he’d started thinking. He hadn’t been home yet this week except to pick up fresh clothes and his mail. He hadn’t touched his blowtorch in so long he hardly remembered how it worked. “Nothing serious, with Tessa and me, we’re buddies.” Although he’d never used that massage oil stuff with his buddies before.

“I’m just not the marrying type. I like being alone.” He did, too. He was spending lots of time alone with Tessa. “Freedom, that’s where it’s at for me. I’m surprised you’d give that up yourself, Fletch.”

“Marriage
is
freedom. I was married for twenty-seven years. I felt healthier and happier then than I’ve felt since Hannah died. I’d certainly marry again if I found the right lady. Men live longer married than they do single.”

No hesitation, Eric noted. Rocky, Tessa’s father, now Fletch, damn, guys were dropping left and right with this marriage stuff.

“I still miss Hannah,” Fletcher added, “but now that Rocky’s settled it’s time to move on.”

Eric figured you couldn’t get more settled than Rocky had been, living here in the same house he’d grown up in, with a father who was always there for him. Always there for Eric, too: Fletcher had bailed him out of teenage scrapes, lectured him about birth control, cosigned for him at the bank. He’d sorted out legal tangles, given advice on business matters, listened when Eric was having problems with his sisters. It had never dawned on him until right now that Fletcher had been a father figure to him all along.

“We all know what’s best for ourselves,” Fletcher was saying. “Marriage isn’t for everyone. It takes a lot of work to make a relationship succeed and not everybody wants to put that amount of effort into being happy. It’s easier to just say next.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” For a second, Eric wondered if maybe Fletch was hinting at something, but that was nuts. Guys didn’t hint, that was a female trait. He drained his coffee mug and suppressed a shudder. Instant didn’t taste as good after you had the stuff Tessa made in that Bodum thing.

He glanced at his watch. It was almost time to pick her up from the lawyers. He’d better get a move on. “Gotta go, tell Rocky I’ll come over about six to help him move. He can get me on my cell, or I’ll be at Tessa’s later on.”

They were going out for lunch, to celebrate her buying Synchronicity. And she wanted to get a dress for the wedding, and he needed some shoes. Usually he hated shopping, but Tess had a way of making it almost fun.

Fletch walked him to the door. “See you Saturday.”

“Yeah.” Eric would never tell Fletch or Rocky either, but for some reason he just wasn’t looking forward one bit to this damned wedding.

 

When Anna called an hour later, he and Tessa were sitting at a sidewalk cafe, and it became very clear to Eric why the wedding was bothering him. He must have had a premonition.

She said, “Guess what?”

Eric and Tessa were eating burgers and having a discussion, and the way that was going, he wasn’t in any mood for guessing games. He wasn’t in the mood for burgers, either.

“Just tell me, okay, Anna?”

“Mom and Dad are here. They brought Karen for the wedding. They drove through, they just got here a half hour ago.”

Shit. That explained why Eric hadn’t been able to reach Karen for a couple of days.

“Did you tell the parental units they weren’t exactly invited?”

They must have been nearby, because Anna said in a chipper voice, “The kids are going bananas, they’re so glad to see Karen. And she looks wonderful, she’s so brown.”

“Tell me you haven’t invited them to stay with you, Anna?”

“Yeah, Bruno did, but they’re staying with Karen, she wants them to get to know the boys.” “Give me a break. Those two losers can’t even remember how many kids they had themselves.” He was already in a bad mood, thanks to Tessa, and this made it worse.

She’d stopped dipping fries in ketchup was staring at him with her eyebrows raised.

He turned away so he wasn’t looking into her eyes. “Does Soph know they’re here?”

“Yeah, I already called her. She really wanted Karen to be at her wedding, and she’s glad Mom and Dad made it, too.”

“Well, it’s nice you girls are so ready to forgive and forget, but leave me out of the picture,” he snarled. “I don’t want anything to do with Sonny or Georgia. I’ll tell them that myself when I see them.”

“Eric, it’s Sophie’s wedding.”

Which was exactly what Tessa said the moment he was off the phone.

“It’s Sophie’s wedding, Eric. No matter what they’ve done, they’re your parents; they naturally want to be there.”

“When it’s Georgia and Sonny, don’t use the words natural and parents in the same sentence, okay?”

“Okay, okay. They’re your parents. God knows I have enough issues with my own. But it
is
Sophie’s wedding.”

He knew that. It wasn’t Sophie’s wedding he was having trouble processing. It was the conversation he’d been having with Tessa before the phone rang. He took it one more time, from the top.

“So this lawyer from Calgary is here, and you’re going out to dinner with him tomorrow night?” She’d tossed it off so casually, while the waiter was standing right there taking their order.

“Sheldon Winesapp, yes. I promised I’d show him around when he came to town. He’s here for a trial. And you and the guys are taking Rocky out tomorrow night anyway, so I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“You didn’t exactly ask if I minded.”

“I didn’t see any need to run it by you. We both agreed this was a temporary thing with us, and you were so clear from the beginning about not wanting commitment or anything permanent, and we certainly never made any agreements about not seeing other people, right?”

“Right.” Then why did it feel so goddamned wrong? “I guess I just somehow assumed that while we were together, you wouldn’t be dating other guys.” Or that it would make him feel like ramming his fist down the bastard’s throat, or tying Tessa up. They’d done that, but not the way he was envisioning.

“Oh, Eric, Sheldon and I are old friends. It’s not really a date.”

Just dinner at some fancy restaurant, with piano music and lots of wine. He knew the effect wine had on her, and he didn’t want her drinking it with some idiot named Sheldon who wouldn’t take care of her when she got tipsy. And, as for the friends part, he and Tessa were friends, and they kept landing in bed together naked. And there was the talking. The thought of her in bed naked talking with this Winesapp made him a little crazy. Or maybe it brought him to his senses.

“Tessa, remember when you asked me whether I’d ever been in love?”

She nodded, unfazed at the sudden change of subject. “You didn’t answer.”

“I was trying to figure it out, and it took me awhile. I’m kinda slow about this stuff. I’ve got it now, though. I’m in love with you, Tessa.

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