The Milestone Tapes (38 page)

“Sure.” Kris motioned for the chair across from her.

“I just wanted to apologize. I was a real bitch last night, and you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. No harm done,” Kris half smiled, but her expression betrayed her words.

“I was just upset. Not at you,” Mia offered, trying to figure out how to explain her emotions. Usually it was easy, but the words weren’t coming.

Kris just nodded, saying nothing more.

“This is ... new for me. The whole stepmom, moving stuff ... it’s a lot.”

“I know that, I understand that. I’m really, really trying not to be the bad guy here, Mia. But the thing is, this is new for me too. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never been a parent, and now I have a teenager. I know your life here is stable, but my life is stable, too. None of us, not even your dad, is on familiar territory. And things can’t stay the same now—not if this is going to work.”

Mia nodded, feeling that Kris had more to say.

“I don’t want to take away everything from you. And I guess, well, the first year of marriage is the hardest. I don’t want to be living in separate houses. I don’t want to put off that transition. I want us to figure this new life out and I want to do it together.”

“This is all I know.” Mia looked around her house, with its familiarity.

“So, how can we make this work, without you feeling like you’re losing everything?” Kris shut her paper, and folded her hands on the table.

“Where are we going to live in Seattle?”

“In my condo,” Kris answered. “I already have a dark room built in, and to find another place with that much room would be hard.”

“And you can’t do that here?” Mia asked, wondering how, for so many years her father had managed but Kris couldn’t.

“I need to be able to work in the city, my job may seem flexible, but everyone I work with—editors, my agent, everyone—they’re all in the city. Your dad, his job is in the city. It just makes better sense to be there where we can work and still be with you.”

“But my dad has done the commuting thing for years ...”

“And how many hours a week do you think he dedicates to that? It’s somewhere around another twenty hours ... and the price of those tickets? And the worst part of it is, the time he spends coming and going, that’s time he misses with you.”

“Can I paint my room?” Mia wondered, thinking of the bland walls.

Kris pursed her lips thoughtfully before breaking into a wide grin. “Of course you can! I’ll help you!”

“Thanks.” Mia smiled lightly.

“Do you have any color ideas?” Kris asked.

“I think green—like the forest, I’m going to miss seeing this every morning.”

“That would be pretty,” Kris agreed. “It’s beautiful here. Your mom had amazing taste.”

“Thanks. She built this place for me. She wanted us to have a family home—like one of those generational things, some place that would always be ours.” Mia looked around the room.

“Really? I didn’t know that.” Kris followed Mia’s eyes around the room, seeing it through the eyes of a daughter who lost her mother much too soon.

“Yeah. This was her dream.” Mia ran her hand over the smooth wood table. Like everything else in the house, her mother had decided on this. It would all be hard to leave behind.

“Well, it was a beautiful dream,” Kris agreed.

“Thanks Kris, for talking to me. I’m really sorry about last night.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just sorry this is so hard on you. I promise I’ll try to remember that.” Kris patted her hand soft.

“I think I’m going to go down to the beach, would you like to come with me?” Mia asked, scooting her chair away from the table.

“I’m going to hang around here for a while. I wanted to square up some things with your dad. Maybe later?” Kris stood up too, leaving towards the master bedroom.

“Sure, see you.”

“Be careful!” Kris called after her.

Hollywood Beach always reminded Mia of Jenna. As she walked across the small dash of beach with its lazy, lapping waves and black sand, she remembered their family trip to the wild coast, so different than this beach, but she still felt a nostalgic pull. She remembered her mom, on her knees in the rocks with the wind turning the tip of her nose red, telling her about the ocean float that she had found bumped up against the bleached driftwood trees washed ashore, and how that had been one of her happiest days.

Mia wondered what her life would have been like if Jenna had lived. Would she be dying to escape this little pass through town rather than fighting to stay? Would she be like her friends, at constant odds with their own mothers over everything from eye shadow to boys and curfew?

She wanted to remember what Jenna smelt like, and maybe that was what drew her to beach. In her memories, Jenna always smelt of salt and brine and fresh air. All she had of her mother was this—her house, her room, her things. She’d been too young to remember details, times and place, and once all of this was gone, would her few memories of Jenna slip away too? If she couldn’t touch them anymore, would they fail to remain real? She couldn’t be sure, but the thought terrified her.

“Mia?” Gabe’s voice shook her from her thoughts. His heavy steps rang like castanets knocking the rocks on the beach together.

“Dad?” Mia started towards him.

“Kris told me you came here. I wanted to talk to you.” Gabe motioned for Mia to sit on the damp log nooked into a small inlet.

“I’m sorry about last night, I was out of line.” Mia wrapped her thin spring scarf tighter around her neck.

“I know. Me too. I hate that it got to that place, that’s not what I wanted.” Gabe sighed, resting his elbows on his knees, looking out across the bay. “You know, your mom loved this place. It’s what sold her on Port Angeles.”

“Really?” Mia followed his gaze out over the bay.

“Yeah. We drove all over this state looking for the right place to raise a family. This spot fit. She used to say you’d have the best of all worlds here ... the city, the coast, the rain forest ... she said it was the perfect place for a child to grow up, and she was right.” Gabe was far away then, seventeen years in the past, in a place where his wife was still alive and their whole lives stretched out before them.

“I didn’t know that,” Mia murmured softly.

“Kris had an idea. And I think it could work, but you’d have to agree,” Gabe began. “This house was for you ...well, for us ... but mostly, it was for you. Your mom paid for this house when she started making money from her books—so really, that money, is yours, because of your trust.”

Mia wasn’t really following, but nodded willing him to continue.

“I can save this house for you. We can take care of it as needed, come up on the weekends or once a month or whatever, like a vacation property. It won’t be yours until you finish college and if you still want it then, you can have it—or you can sell it and take the money, but the choice will be there no matter what you decide.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. This house is free and clear now. It costs money to run and maintain, of course, but ... this house was built to be a family home, and Kris was right, it should be a family house. But for right now, kiddo, we need to move on.” Gabe nodded into the light breeze. “I don’t know if I did right by you Mia, keeping you here all these years, flying to Seattle every morning and back every night, depending so much on Ginny ... part of me wonders if, maybe, I don’t know—if I shouldn’t have—done things differently.”

“Dad ...” Mia cut herself off and let the words linger.

“I don’t want this to be hard on you, hon. I want you to be happy and it kills me to know that you’re not.”

“I’m okay Dad, really and I promise I’ll keep trying.” Mia scooted over and looped her arm through her dad’s, resting her head on his shoulder. “There are just a lot of changes ... but you deserve to be happy, and I understand that.”

Gabe and Mia sat like that, until the sun fell out of the sky and the darkness swallowed them.

Kris was fixing a light dinner of Greek salad and crusty bread, working her way around the kitchen when Gabe and Mia walked through the front door.

“Hi guys, dinner’s almost ready.” She placed the large bowl down on the table. “Did you two have a nice afternoon?”

“Yeah, we talked about the house.” Gabe smiled, walking over to the sink to wash up.

“Kris, thanks.” Mia ambled over to Kris and wrapped her arms around her.

“Oh.” She laughed lightly in surprise before winding her arms around Mia. “You’re very, very welcome.”

Mia finished building the last box left unassembled, neatly filling it with her fall and winter clothes. Her room looked almost the same: the book shelves were still adorned with all of her knickknacks, the old desk cluttered with stationery, pencils, paper clips and her old computer. Her dresser was still in the same nook, only emptied of all her clothes.

“Keep everything you’ll need for the weekends here, it’ll make it easier for us to come and go,” Kris called from down the hall, where she was dutifully packing Gabe’s work clothes, sorting them from his casual stuff that she would later supplement in the city.

Mia tucked her glass float safely between two sweaters, figuring a bit of home in her new room would be nice.

“The movers will be here around ten in the morning tomorrow, so make sure you’re totally packed!” Kris hollered again.

“I’m almost done,” Mia answered and snapped a roll of tape against the top of the box, smoothing it closed, then sliding it across the floor to where all the others sat.

Mia found Ginny lounging in the family room.

“Hey Ginny, what’s up?”

“Just relaxing, sugar.”

Ginny wasn’t joining Mia in her life in Seattle, and in many ways that was harder than leaving the house. But Mia knew the truth. Ginny was older now, slowing down. Ginny had started a second life when she was hired on by the Chamberlands to care for Mia while her mother went to treatment. At that time, she was already a sixty-year-old widow. She had already raised her children and sent them off into the world, and somehow got snagged into raising another child. Now, she was seventy six. Her hair was a puff of grey, her skin slack with webs of wrinkles. She was still strong and smart and no nonsense, but she wasn’t moving to Seattle. Her life was here.

Mia had cried hard when Ginny told her that. Begged and pleaded and promised she’d be good, easy to look after. But Ginny had just hugged her tight and tried to explain.

“So are ya’ all packed up and ready to go?” Ginny patted the cushion beside her for Mia to join her.

“Pretty much.” Mia collapsed down beside her.

“Good. Are you gettin’ excited?” Ginny had tried to convince Mia that the big city would woo her and win her over, with its eclectic shopping, delicious restaurants and boundless energy, but Mia wasn’t sold.

“Eh.” Mia shrugged, laying her head back.

“This is gonna be a good move for you, change of scenery.”

“I love you Ginny, and I’m going to miss you a lot.”

“I love you too, honey. And I’m going to miss you a lot.” Ginny patted Mia’s knee.

“I just feel like everything has changed so much. And it’s not that I’m not happy ... I’m trying ... ” Mia trailed off.

“Change is part of life, hon. So since you can’t have it any other way, try to be happy about it, look at things from the positive side, find the good—cause there’s lots a good about this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for starters, you’re gettin’ yourself a wonderful stepmom. Kris is a nice lady, and I can tell, she cares about you a great deal. You’re gonna be livin’ in Seattle, and you’re gonna get to do big city things—like museums and take in all kinds of culture. You’re not sellin’ this house, and when you come back on weekends, I’ll be beatin’ down this door to spend time with you.” Ginny made a short list.

“I just ... don’t ... want to leave you,” Mia admitted, and she dabbed at her eyes with the cuff of her sweatshirt. The thought of saying goodbye to Ginny crushed her.

“Do you know something I don’t? ’Cause from the way I see it, you’re not leaving me, I’m a phone call away and I’ll be seeing you every weekend or so. Besides, in another year you’d be goin’ off to college anyway, and I’d be staying here in Port Angeles anyway—you wouldn’t want me where you’re going then.” She laughed loudly at the last part.

“I know ... it’s just ... hard.”

“Life is sometimes hard, but you don’t give yourself permission to wallow in it. That isn’t how I raised you to be, that’s not what I taught you to do. You have been a daughter to me, in many, many ways—and I will always count you among my kids. And you moving? Hurts like hell for me, too. But that’s how this goes, this whole childrearing thing. You give em’ roots and then you give em’ wings.”

Mia wandered over to the windows and thought about Ginny had said. This home, it was her roots. Stable, healthy, nourished and loved. She didn’t need to stay here to keep that with her. But her wings, she wanted to try them now.