Single in Suburbia (34 page)

Her mother wouldn’t have it? Candace thought she must have misunderstood. After all she’d given up, her mother expected to control her mood as well?

Then Candace woke up. She still felt queasy and uncomfortable, but the flash of anger buoyed her. She sat up on the couch and looked at her mother.

“You won’t have it?” she asked.

They both froze in shock at Candace’s incredulous tone. This time Candace recovered first. “You think you can decide what I feel and for how long?” She stood and stepped up to her mother. Even in her bare feet, she towered over her. “You told me it was you or him and I did what I’ve always done, I chose you. But that’s not enough for you, is it? You have to control every little thing, every thought, every action.” Her rage began to grow. In the span of a few minutes, it dwarfed them both. She was tired of doing what her mother told her. Tired to death of living the life her mother thought she should live.

Dan Donovan was right. She was way too old for this shit. “You know,” Candace finally said, “I’m not sure how we got this way.” She lowered her voice and took a step away. “But I don’t think it’s good for either of us. You’ve got too much power. And I’ve got too little. It’s time for things to be more balanced.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” Hannah tried to maintain her imperious tone, but Candace could tell that she was shaken. Never once in forty-two years had she spoken to her mother this way.

“Well, you don’t really have to understand all the details,” Candace pointed out more calmly. “What matters is I’m ready to live my own life and make my own choices. And if that happens to include an Irishman with a fair to middlin’ amount of ambition, so be it.”

“Candace, darling, you can’t be serious. Why…”

But Candace was already taking her mother’s arm and escorting her toward the front door. “But I am, Mother. I’m as serious as a heart attack.”

They were in the foyer. Candace opened the door and motioned her mother through it. “Thank you so much for stopping by. I’m really feeling much better now.” Happily this was the truth. “But in the future if you want to visit, I’d really appreciate it if you’d call ahead and make sure that it’s convenient.”

There was a gasp of indignation and a “Well, I never!” And then Hannah Bloom swept out the front door and down the flagstone walk.

Wishing that Dan had been there to see her kick tush, Candace watched her mother leave.

Brooke sat in her perfect house trying to enjoy the perfect silence. But all it felt was empty without Hap in it. She walked through the rooms, all neatly arranged and oppressively tidy. She never thought she’d say it, but she even missed Tyler.

She talked with Amanda and Candace every day, but other than her daily workout, she was completely alone. She had no idea what she could do to convince Hap of her love and trust in him. If he expected her to bring her mother to meet him or, worse yet, take him to the double-wide she’d once called home, he’d be waiting for a lifetime.

But there must be some way to introduce him to the real her without frightening him too much.

In the bedroom she found herself on her knees next to the bed, feeling around underneath it. When her fingers felt metal, she grasped on to the handle and pulled out her steamer trunk; the one she’d taken with her to college. It was old and banged up, but it had been her first personal possession and at the time that her mother had bought it for her, it had been shiny and new, symbolic of all that lay ahead of her and all that she couldn’t wait to leave behind.

She opened it now, and looked through the things inside smiling over some of the sillier mementos, shaking her head over others and wondering what had made them seem important enough to keep. The ticket for her first university football game, her cafeteria pass, all four of her University of Georgia yearbooks.

Underneath all that was a cigar box that she’d gotten when she was five. It had always been the repository of her most prized possessions; there hadn’t been many and they’d easily fit.

As she removed the rumpled reminders and the bent-cornered pictures, she had an idea. Her heart beating with hope for the first time since Hap had left, she spread them out on the coverlet and began arranging the photos in order, from the shot of her as a wailing baby in her teenage mother’s arms to the auburn-haired college girl clad in cap and gown. There weren’t a lot of photos—hers had not been a picture-snapping, vacation-taking life—but still they told a story. Going to their wedding album, she pulled out her favorite shots from both the simple ceremony and their honeymoon in St. Barts.

Later that day she went out and purchased a grainy leather photo album in which she arranged the story of her life.

Then she picked up the phone and punched in her husband’s cell phone number.

Rob came over the night before Amanda’s parents left. His excuse was to drop something off for the kids, but not even Meghan and Wyatt were fooled. He stayed to have dinner with them, a meal that almost captured the sense of family they’d once had, and then asked to speak to Amanda alone when her mother and the children began to clear the dishes.

They went out on the back deck, completely aware that the eyes of the family were glued on them. Amanda walked to the railing and turned her back on the house. Rob came to stand beside her. Together they stared out over the trees of the wooded backyard.

“I imagine you have some idea of what I’d like to talk about.” Rob wiped his hands on the sides of his pants and cleared his throat, and she realized just how nervous he was.

Her own palms turned sweaty and her pulse kicked up a notch, but she just cocked her head in his direction and waited for him to speak.

“I, uh, have some good news,” he said. “It looks like the position with the real estate developer is a done deal. I’m going to have a base salary, plus a lot of growth potential. It’ll take a while, but I’ll have a chance to get back on my feet.”

“That’s great, Rob.” She felt a burst of relief as she realized that some of the financial pressure would lessen. Between what Rob would be able to pay and what her parents insisted on loaning her, she’d still need to work but she would no longer be facing imminent eviction.

“Yeah. I can’t tell you how relieved I am that I won’t be driving a garbage truck like Anne Justiss suggested.” He smiled, but it was forced.

She studied her husband, knowing what was coming next, wondering why she didn’t feel more excitement at the prospect. “So, um, I was wondering if you’d have me back. Maybe let me move in and see if we can start over again.”

She waited for her heart to swell with happiness, or her feet to break into a little happy dance, but the request didn’t even generate a sigh of relief.

Her mind said she should be happy that her husband wanted to come back to her. Her bruised and bloodied heart wanted to know why.

“What’s happened to Tiffany?” she asked.

Rob shifted uncomfortably beside her. His gaze was locked on a scraggly fir tree. “She’s gone,” he said.

Now there was an interesting bit of news.

“Gone out of town?” she asked. “Gone on a trip? Gone from your life?”

“Yes.” He turned and tried to look her in the eye, but he sort of caught a part of her shoulder and the edge of her earlobe. “All of those things.”

She did not, she realized, really want to know this. But she felt compelled to ask. “And if she hadn’t left you, would you still want to come home?”

She held her breath while she waited for his response. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Yes. I screwed up and I dragged you all through my mess, but I’m sorry and I want to come back.”

He spoke without hesitation, finally meeting her eye, his voice ringing with conviction. But Tiffany’s defection rankled. How would she ever know whether what he was saying was true? And if she did take him back, how would she know that there wouldn’t be another Tiffany?

She felt like she was getting a really great price on a used car—a car she wasn’t even sure was right for her anymore.

She looked more closely at the man who was still technically her husband. What she saw was a man who had left her for another woman; a man who’d been able to walk away from his children because his panicked libido was stronger than his paternal commitment. She saw the officer of the court who had cheated his clients out of money and never really been forced to pay.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, puzzled. “I thought you’d be excited about getting back together.”

“Yeah,” she said, feeling almost as puzzled as he sounded. “So did I.”

Meghan would be thrilled if Rob came home and so would Wyatt. If for no other reason, she should be saying yes right now. She opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t make the words come out.

He’d trampled on their love and treated them as if they didn’t matter. And now that Tiffany had left him, she was supposed to quiver with joy and welcome him back into the fold.

She took a step back as the realization struck her.

She might be able to interface with Rob Sheridan on a surface level, but she could never really trust him again. Her well of love for him had been sucked dry.

“I know it would make Meghan and Wyatt happy,” she said as she struggled to come to grips with her decision.

His face lit up and he took a step closer.

She surprised them both when she put a hand out to stop him. “But that’s not reason enough for us to be together.”

They studied each other in the falling twilight. This day had reached its end. Tomorrow would be brand new. “You’ll still be their father, Rob, whatever house you live in. And I hope you’ll be a good one.” She looked him deep in the eye. “But…”

“Amanda,” he said, interrupting, “you can’t seriously mean to say no.” It was clear he couldn’t fathom that she would choose to be alone rather than with him. She was kind of blown away by that fact too.

“I expect I should be grateful for the offer,” she said at last as the day faded all the way to black. “But I think I’m going to have to pass.”

chapter
29

T
he idea of driving to a distant ballpark on Sunday and sitting in the stands while everyone talked about her was about as appealing to Amanda as double root canals. Rob had the kids and was taking them to the game, but she’d be bringing them home with her. Still, she was more than reluctant to expose herself to public scrutiny. She couldn’t figure out why Brooke and Candace appeared so eager to get there.

“Remind me why we’re going to this game today?” she asked.

“Because your son is pitching and nobody, especially Susie Simmons, sends the three musketeers into hiding.”

“Right.” The idea of seeing all those people and them seeing her made Amanda’s stomach churn.

“You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of,” Candace reminded her.

“I know. I keep telling myself that. But somebody needs to convince my children,” Amanda groaned. She and Meghan had been in a state of armed truce since her parents had driven off in their motor home.

“I would, but they need to hear it from you,” Candace said.

Brooke checked her watch for about the twentieth time. She was lugging a carryall with something bulky inside.

“You two look like you’ve got something up your sleeves,” Amanda observed.

Brooke smiled. “Let’s just say if everything goes well, Candace and I won’t need a ride home.”

When they arrived at the field, the game was already underway. Trailing behind Candace and Brooke, Amanda felt like a condemned prisoner being led to the gas chamber.

Everyone stared and their gazes on her were like a physical thing, heavy and pervasive. Refusing to look away or down at her feet, Amanda raised her chin and looked each one of them in the eye. A few of them turned away or dropped their gazes. Susie Simmons glared at her then leaned over to whisper something to Karen Anderson. There was laughter.

She wanted to get in Susie’s face and remind her that she, too, had been arrested. She imagined standing up and expounding on all the embarrassing and petty things she’d learned about the people who thought they were superior to her. She glared back at Susie Simmons and realized with a sudden flash of clarity that that was probably what they feared most.

Meghan sat beside her father, her gaze on her fingernails. Amanda willed her to look up and meet her gaze, but she kept her head down and hid behind a curtain of long dark hair. Rob waved hello, a small friendly gesture that made her breathe a tiny sigh of relief.

Candace and Brooke slowed slightly as they passed the Mudhens’ dugout, and if Amanda wasn’t mistaken, the two were clearly, and pointedly, strutting their stuff. Dan and Hap watched them go by.

Amanda raised a hand in greeting to Wyatt. He didn’t turn away, but he didn’t come over to the fence to speak to her either. He watched her move toward the stands, his eyes overlarge in his face, then turned his attention back to the field.

Amanda told herself it didn’t matter. Somehow she’d find the right words to make her children understand. They were hurt and angry. But, she realized, so was she. In her effort to protect them, she’d forgotten to protect herself.

When they reached the stands Amanda turned her attention to the game, which seemed to be going slightly better than her life. The score was tied, but when his teammates took the field, Wyatt warmed the bench. He sat much like she did, with his shoulders straight and his chin tilted at a stubborn angle. But she doubted he was as focused on the game as he pretended. Or that he and Meghan were any more immune to the stares and whispers than she was.

“Hey, Broom Lady!” The shout came from the back of the stands. “I dropped my burger. Do you want to come clean it up? Or maybe your daughter would like to do it!”

Amanda’s head snapped up and she swiveled in her seat. Behind her, Meghan, at whom the taunt had also been aimed, sat frozen in her seat while Rob glared at a teenage boy Amanda didn’t recognize. She wanted to go up there and smack the boy silly. Or grab him by the ear and drag him from the bleachers and out of the ballpark.