Summer Breeze (10 page)

“I wouldn’t!” Patsy snapped. “I’d let Brenda Hansen do it. You’re the last person in the world to be telling this young man about the birds and the bees. What were you thinking?”

“Where is my mother?” Cody asked. “Did she get drunk and wrapped in fishing line and drowned?”

“That’s not your mother. That’s the woman who washed up in Deepwater Cove. She could be anyone.”

“She could be my mother.”

“Well, she’s not.”

“Then where is my mother?”

Patsy sighed. “Cody, do you remember the letter Brenda and Steve found in your pocket? Your father had written it, and he said your mother passed away. I’m very sorry to have to say it, but your mother died.”

“I don’t want her to be dead.”

“Oh, for mercy’s sake, let’s go call Brenda. Grab your hot dogs, Cody. We’ll get Brenda to drive over to the salon and sort everything out. And next time, don’t bother asking Mr. Roberts here any questions.”

Cody gathered the three hot dogs and held them against his chest as Patsy led him toward the front door of the tackle shop. His eyes focused on Pete. Patsy, too, cast a backward glance. Then she shook her head, grabbed Cody’s elbow, and ushered him out onto the sidewalk.

“Hey, Patsy,” Pete hollered after her. “Stop telling people I look like a bear!”

Patsy paused a moment, gazing at him through the plate glass window. Then she burst into giggles as she led Cody toward the haven of Just As I Am.

Saturday evening, the telephone rang while Kim was in the kitchen wrapping potatoes in aluminum foil. She reached for the receiver, but when she held it to her ear, she could already hear her mother-in-law’s voice on the spare room’s extension.

“You’ve reached the Finley family!” Miranda sang out. “Derek, Kim, Miranda, Luke, and Lydia—all at home and eager to chat. How may I help you?”

Kim winced at the inclusion of their guest’s name in the family lineup, but she couldn’t deny that Miranda was now definitely a part of the household structure. In the two weeks since her arrival, she had wedged herself firmly into place—like a queen who had arrived to rule an upstart realm from the comfort of her bedroom.

During that short time, the woman had managed to alter just about every routine Kim had established. Miranda’s high blood pressure meant less salt in the meals. She hated nuts, so pecans had to be left out of the brownies and walnuts omitted from the Waldorf salad. Peanut-butter sandwiches went straight onto the no-no list. Miranda’s clothing added an extra load or two on laundry day. Thank goodness the woman was willing to iron her own linen shorts and slacks and to hand wash her filmy silk blouses. She insisted on a mug of coffee every morning and a cup of chamomile tea at night, and she let it be known if they weren’t made just the way she liked them.

Even worse in Kim’s mind, Miranda wasn’t the least bit interested in church or God, and she often started eating her meal before the blessing had been asked. Her favorite activity was shopping, so the twins had to accompany her on frequent and lengthy trips to the outlet mall. Lydia didn’t mind, but Luke deplored being dragged from one store to another. Yet with both parents gone during the daytime in the second week, he was left with no choice. In fact, no matter what the Finleys planned, Miranda had to be figured into the picture.

For the first few days of her mother-in-law’s visit, Kim had accommodated the changes. She told herself that Miranda was essentially a kind woman. Nothing would have to be modified all that much.

Though able to ignore the dominating presence for a short while, Kim soon found her patience tested. When she wanted to scream in frustration, she made up her mind to be polite. Her waning goodwill lasted four or five days longer. By the end of the second week, she was downright angry.

Now poised to cut her mother-in-law out of the phone conversation, Kim heard the voice on the other end of the line speak up.

“Oh, is this Miranda Finley?” Kim recognized Brenda Hansen’s sweet tone at once. “For a moment I thought you might be Lydia.”

“Lydia? Gracious, that would be odd, wouldn’t it? We’re not even related.”

Kim flinched. Derek loved the twins like a father, and Kim had prayed that his own mother would see them as her grandchildren. But Miranda kept the lines clearly drawn between herself and the twins.

“I was hoping to speak to Kim for a minute,” Brenda told Miranda over the phone. “Something has come up, and I’d like her advice.”

“Oh, dear, I’m all the way down the hall in my room, and Kim is in the kitchen,” Miranda said. “She’s baking potatoes for dinner, though why, I surely don’t know. We’ve had enough carbohydrates today to sink a ship. She started us out this morning with French toast. Then she fed us sandwiches and chips for lunch. Now it’s baked potatoes, and I think I even saw her getting out a box of rice. Can you imagine? I’m afraid I’ll outgrow my clothes in no time if she keeps this up.”

“I’ve always thought Kim was a great cook,” Brenda said.

“I’m right here,” Kim spoke up. “I heard the phone ring. It’s okay, Miranda; I’ll take the call now.”

“Well, I did have something to ask Brenda, if you don’t mind, Kim. She has such a way with decor, and I’ve been eyeing the lace curtains in the living room. I don’t mean to be critical, of course, but with the twill sofa and the two leather chairs, I’m wondering if lace is the right texture for the windows. I was thinking maybe a simple sheer fabric would be better in there. You could pick one of the colors from the sofa. Say that soft yellow, for example. Or the muted green. What do you think, Brenda?”

There was a momentary pause. “I … uh, I can’t really picture the curtains in my mind right at the moment, Miranda.”

“They’re sort of a thick lace with roses strewn everywhere. Very feminine. Now I don’t want to sound the least bit disapproving of Kim’s decisions about this lovely home, but I just have a feeling the curtains don’t work well with the leather.”

By this time, Kim had wandered into the living room and was studying the beautiful lace curtains she’d found several years ago in an antique shop. The tag said they’d been made in Brussels, and Kim was delighted to discover that they fit her windows perfectly. What was wrong with leather, twill, and lace? To her, they made a perfect combination.

“I’ll come over and take a look sometime,” Brenda told Miranda.

“Why not now?” Miranda suggested. “Kim’s potatoes will take an hour at least, and we’re not doing a thing. Come by and see what you think. Then you and Kim can discuss whatever was on your mind.”

Kim could think of about fifty things she needed to be doing, but she decided to echo her mother-in-law’s invitation. “Miranda’s right,” she told her friend. “I’d love to see you if you have a minute, Brenda.”

“Well, I’ve got Cody here with me at the house. But I guess we could come over for a little while before Steve gets home. He and I are taking one of his clients to the country club for dinner at seven. Cody’s spending the night with Esther and Charlie Moore.”

Before Kim could utter another word, Miranda had said good-bye and hung up. Replacing the receiver, Kim watched as her mother-in-law came sashaying down the hall in her spotless white slacks, matching leather belt, and pink-striped tank top.

Miranda clapped her hands when she spotted Kim. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited Brenda over, though I wish she didn’t have to bring that young man. He strikes me as odd. But she’s so sweet, and more my age than yours anyway. I really enjoy Brenda. In fact, I think one day we might be good friends. She knows how it feels to lose your loved ones and be left alone day after day.”

“Brenda stays busy,” Kim inserted. “There was a time when she felt a little adrift. But she teaches Cody, and she helps Steve manage their rentals in Tranquility. I think she’s even been doing some decorating in the homes he has up for sale.”

“Now isn’t that wonderful?” Miranda had lifted one of the lace curtains, and she began examining it. “What are these flowers anyway? Roses or peonies? Well, Brenda will know exactly what to do about the windows. Lace is such a feminine fabric, and you’ve got all this masculine twill and leather in here, Kim. Not to mention the wood floors and coffee table. Don’t you think lace is a little jarring to the eye?”

No,
Kim wanted to retort.
I love my lace curtains.
But the doorbell was ringing, and it would be Brenda. Kim asked her mother-in-law to let in their visitors, and then she returned to the kitchen to finish up the potatoes.

So what if the Finleys ate carbohydrates now and then? They had fresh fruits and vegetables, meats, and dairy products, too. Kim fumed as she pushed the tray of foil-wrapped potatoes into the hot oven beside the large, onion-coated slab of beef that had already been roasting for several hours. She always checked to make sure Luke carefully counted his carbohydrates. Often they worked together to save up carbs so he could join the rest of the family in treats like an ice cream sundae or a slice of cake. What right did Miranda Finley have to come into her home and criticize the way she cooked? And how dare she disapprove of her beautiful European curtains?

“Hey, Kim! Do you have any chocolate cake in your kitchen?” Cody stood in the doorway, hands pushed down into the front pockets of his blue jeans. “I like chocolate cake, and Esther doesn’t make it because of Charlie’s diabetes. I’m sleeping at Esther and Charlie’s house tonight, and they won’t have any chocolate cake. Do you?”

“No, I don’t, Cody,” Kim told him. The sight of the earnest young man took her frustration level down several notches. “I’m sorry. I’ve got chocolate-chip cookies, though.”

“Those are not my favorite.”

“How about if I invite you over the next time I make chocolate cake?”

Cody grinned. “Okay.”

“You know, I had forgotten that Charlie has diabetes,” Kim said as she checked the pot of green beans on the stove. “So does my Luke.”

“I know your Luke. He’s a twin to Lydia. That means they popped out of you at the same time.”

“Actually, Luke came first and then Lydia arrived about five minutes later. And believe me, Cody, neither one of them popped out.”

“Pete Roberts told me that babies pop out of their mothers, and everyone has a mother, even me, because I have a belly button.”

Kim blinked for a moment, trying to process the information. “I suppose Pete is right. I’m the mother of Luke and Lydia, and they both have belly buttons.”

Cody’s eyes crinkled and his nose scrunched up as if he were about to cry. “I don’t know what happened to my mother. My daddy wrote in a letter that she was dead, but I want to know why. What happened to her? What if she died from getting drunk and wrapped in fishing line like that woman in the lake?”

“Now, Cody,” Brenda said in a warning tone as she stepped into the kitchen and put her arm around the young man. “We’ve been over this too many times for you to keep repeating it. Your mother died a long time ago. We don’t know exactly what happened, but the woman who drowned in the lake was
not
your mother.”

“But she might be,” he said mournfully, “because nobody knows who the drowned lady was. And I don’t know who my mother was. So maybe they’re the same person.”

“Oh, Cody.” Brenda sighed and glanced at Kim as if seeking assistance. “He doesn’t seem to understand the passage of time the way we do. Evidently Pete Roberts mentioned to Cody that everyone has a mother, so now we’ve got this huge issue to deal with.”

Kim set the pot holders on the counter. “Cody, did your daddy tell you anything at all about your mother? Ever?”

He shook his head. “He just said when men disappear, no one comes looking.”

“Well, I’m sure your father thought he was telling you the truth, but I’m afraid he was wrong. Derek looks for missing men quite often.”

“Derek is Officer Finley,” Cody stated. “He found the drowned lady.”

“Sometimes people do get lost, Cody,” Kim said gently. “And then the police, the Highway Patrol, the Water Patrol, and lots of others start looking for them. Men and women get lost. Children too. People search for the lost ones until they’re found.”

“But does anyone ever get lost and then nobody goes looking for them?”

“Once in a while. No one has mentioned missing a woman near the lake, for example. So that’s why this particular drowning case has been in the newspaper a lot.”

“I am missing a woman,” he said firmly. “I am missing a mother.”

“But you have Brenda. And what about Esther and Patsy? Those women look after you and love you just like a mother would. You have me, too, Cody. I care about you very much. So do Ashley Hanes and Opal and all the members of the TLC.”

“But you’re not my mother. None of those ladies is my mother. Everyone here has a real, true family. Everyone but me. What if I have a sister? Or maybe a brother? Or an aunt or uncle?”

“I don’t know. Maybe someone at some point could help search to find out if you have any relatives.”

“Which someone at which point?”

“I could do it,” Miranda offered. She had been leaning against the kitchen doorway, one of the living room’s lace curtains in her arms. “I traced my husband’s genealogy all the way back to Ireland in the 16 00s. And I’ve followed my own family to the Civil War. It gets rather complicated there, but I’m not giving up. I’m actually quite good at finding people’s relatives.”