The Moon and More (37 page)

If the light outside the realty office hadn’t turned red, I was sure I would have driven right past and on, over the bridge, maybe even farther. But when it slipped to yellow, I eased on the brakes, wiping at my eyes. I’d only sat there a second when I looked over to the parking lot and saw my mother.

She was standing on the front porch of the office, scanning the approaching traffic. Clearly, Margo had called her. I waited; one beat, then another. Finally, she spotted my car. When our eyes met, she bit her lip, then came down the steps into the lot, crossing her arms over her chest. The light changed, and I put on my blinker and turned in, now sobbing. I’d disappointed her too that day, and an awful lot lately. But still, when I got out of the car, she was waiting for me.

IT WASN’T A cocktail maker. It was a monstrosity.

“You know,” my mom said, from the open conference room door, “you don’t have to do this today.”

“It’s been on the requested-items list for over a week now,” I pointed out, climbing up on a chair with the box cutter and looking for a good angle to start in on the carton.

“Requested by the
owner,
not the tenant. They don’t even know it’s coming.”

I looked at her. “Wouldn’t
you
want this, if you knew it was available?”

She studied the picture on the front again, the sight of which, when UPS had dropped it off moments earlier, had left us all speechless. We’d seen it all. But never something like the Slusher Pro.

It was, at its basic core, a margarita machine. But this was like saying Mount Everest was a steep hill. It was
huge
, with one megablender, which, according to the box, held up to four gallons of mix, liquor, and ice. That alone was impressive. But it also had
five
different receptacles on its movable base so you could always have a fresh batch with the push of a button. No more constantly rinsing out the blender and refilling the
alcohol to keep your guests adequately inebriated. Do it once, and the Slusher Pro did the rest.

“I still think,” my mother said now, as I wrestled the box open, “that we need to have some kind of waiver involved with this. No good can come of that much tequila consumption.”

“I don’t know. Last time I saw Ivy, she sounded like she might need it.”

It seemed both appropriate and ironic that it was the owners of Sand Dollars who had bought this mega-appliance, which had been on back order so long that both they and we had forgotten all about it. Once we looked at the paperwork, however, I remembered there being specific owner notes about leaving the space above the bar area open for “cocktail accessories.” Which I’d assumed meant maybe a nice rack holding shakers and strainers. Silly me.

“Nobody needs this.” She picked up a pack of shrink-wrapped papers. “Is this the manual? Good Lord, it’s thicker than the one for the copy machine.”

“You’re not helping,” I told her, freeing the huge engine-like base. “Can you make some room on the table there?’

She did, pushing aside the leftover biscuits and drinks from Roy’s, which, as I expected, had been there when we came inside an hour earlier. Sausage had again been all I could smell as she’d led me to a chair, and made me sit, then fetching one of Benji’s supercold Cokes and a box of tissues. I worked my way through both as I told her what had happened with my father, getting a headache from either a brain freeze or the copious amount of tears. Either way, by the time I finally stopped talking, I was a sniffling, caffeinated mess.

“That’s it,” she’d said, when I was done, reaching for her phone. “I’m calling him right now.”

“
Don’t
,” I said. “This isn’t your problem.”

“How can you even
say
that?” She leaned forward, so we were knee to knee, her hands covering mine. “The one thing I’ve always prided myself on is that I always did my best to keep him from hurting you. And it keeps happening anyway.”

“I’m a big girl,” I told her. “I need to deal with him like one. Which means not having my mom fight my battles for me.”

She’d done enough of that to last us both our lifetimes. And in truth, what she’d said in our fight earlier was still resonating with me, even if she’d forgotten. Eighteen years earlier, she’d given up her future for mine. That she’d ever think for a moment this might have been a mistake was enough to make me want to spend every day of it proving otherwise.

“He shouldn’t be battling you, period,” she said, clearly not convinced. “I can’t
believe
he still acts like such a spoiled brat. I swear, it’s like he never grew up at all.”

“I’m okay, Mom,” I told her.

“This is you okay?” she said, nodding at the pile of crumpled tissues on the table beside me.

“Yeah,” I said. “It is.”

I knew it sounded weird. But beneath the tears and the sobs, there’d been this sense of relief, a feeling that something long nagging at me was finally closed and finished. For months now I’d carried around all this hurt and confusion, not letting myself truly feel it. But in that drive from North Reddemane, I finally got it. We wouldn’t have some big bonding moment, a sudden shift where he became everything I
needed him to be. He wasn’t a problem for me to fix, either. Instead, he was a truth to accept, just like the fact that he’d always be on that line of my family tree. There was a peace in that, just as there was in knowing that whether he became anything else would, in the end, be up to only me.

Now, as I pulled out the rest of the pieces of the
Slusher Pro, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I pulled it out to find a message from Theo.

Phase one of Best Future Job Ever begins: now. Going to talk to Clyde.

Clearly, I was not the only one in a life-changing mode. I texted him back, wishing him luck, then climbed down from the chair. “Theo,” I explained to my mom.

“Right,” she said.

We were both quiet a minute as, channeling my dad—known at our house as the Great Assembler—I spread out all the parts neatly before opening the manual. Finally I said, “He’s a really nice guy, you know.”

“I’m sure he is,” she replied. “But I still don’t want you at the campground.”

“How am I supposed to see him?”

“There’s the entire rest of town,” she said drily. “I’m sure you’ll figure out something.”

“So we can hang out in my room, then? I promise to lock the door.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Not funny.”

Still I laughed, and then she was leaving, sighing loudly as she went. I took a trip to the storeroom, where I dug around for the screwdrivers I needed, then got to work. Despite the Slusher Pro’s size and paperwork—half of which turned out to be drink recipes—it went quickly, and within about forty minutes it was done. Which brought me to my next problem.

“Oh, right,” my mom said, after I called her back. “Moving it. Wait, will it fit through the door?”

“Don’t even joke about that,” I said. Of course I hadn’t considered this. “It has to. My point is, I’m not going to be able to get it to Sand Dollars by myself.”

“I’d help, but I have a ten o’clock,” she said. She scanned the office through the conference room windows. “What about Rebecca?”

I gave her a doubtful look. “Have you ever seen her lift anything? Look at her biceps. They’re spindly.”

“True.” She sighed. “Well, just leave it for now, I guess, and we’ll—”

Just then, though, the cavalry arrived. Or, Morris and Benji did. Margo, who was also not known for her upper-body strength, was right behind them.

“Wow!” Benji said, as soon as he spotted the Slusher. “Is that a smoothie maker?”

“Sort of,” I said.

“The Slusher Pro,” Morris observed admiringly. “Cool.”

“You know the Slusher Pro?”

“They have one at Tallyho,” he told me. I just looked at him. “What? I’ve been picking up some shifts there.”

“You have?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said. “I do work, you know?”

“That does not sound like the Morris I know,” I said, studying his face. “Who have you been talking to?”

“Nobody,” he said.

I just looked at him.

“I bumped into Clyde at the Gas/Gro last night,” he said with a shrug. “He said he had some odd jobs that needed doing. I figure between that, Tallyho, and Ivy, I’ll be finally making some bank. Maybe enough for a trip to Savannah this fall.”

“Savannah?” I raised my eyebrows. “So you’re
not
doing that thing we talked about at my house the other day?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I just figured I’d try getting off the couch first, and go from there.”

I smiled. “You keep surprising me.”

“Yeah, well.” Morris was not one for mushy moments, especially in public or daylight. “Anyway, I’m headed over to the Washroom right now.”

“Wow,” I said, trying not to sound as shocked as I felt. “That’s great. Although it leaves me out of luck. I was hoping you’d have time to help me take this to Ivy’s.”

“I can help!” Benji said, jumping up and down. “Can I help?”

“Absolutely,” I told him. “But I think we
might
need more muscle than just us.”

“Oh, right.” He glanced at Rebecca, who looked back at us, surely wondering why we all kept looking at her, and her spindly arms, so disdainfully. “Hey, I know! We can ask Luke.”

“Luke?” I said.

“Yeah. I just saw him outside. Hold on!”

And then, before I could stop him, he was running out the door, letting it slam behind him. A beat later, it opened again, revealing an attractive, dark-haired woman in black pants,
a flowing shirt, and strappy sandals. When she saw me, she broke into a wide smile.

“Emaline! Hello!” As she came closer, I realized it was my stepmother. “Joel said you might be here. I’m so happy to see you!”

Over her shoulder I saw my mom trying to place her face. “Leah,” I said, loud enough so she’d hear. “I didn’t even know you were coming.”

“No? Well, I suppose it was a bit last minute.” She stepped back, holding me at arm’s length. “Oh, you just look so grown up! I can’t believe you’re going to college in a few weeks. Are you excited? Nervous?’

“A bit of both, actually.”

“I’m sure.” As she squeezed my hands, still smiling warmly, I was reminded of how much I’d actually liked her, the few times we’d crossed paths. “But you’ll do great. We’re so proud of you.”

Considering the events the morning, this was a bit hard to believe. Still, I appreciated her saying it. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Oh! That reminds me. Before I forget …” She reached into her bag, digging around for a minute before finally pulling out a blue envelope. She held it to her chest, glancing at the door for a minute before saying, “First off, I have to say I know this is horrifically late. It’s
so
embarrassing. But as I’m sure you’ve heard, we’ve been, um, dealing with a lot since the spring. And for what it’s worth, I
have
had it since June. I never quite got it in the mail.”

She held out the envelope, and I took it, aware of the fact that both my mom and sister were now watching from their
respective offices. I wanted to just thank her and open it later, in private, but she was looking at me so expectantly I knew she was waiting for the big reveal. I slid my finger under the flap and eased out a card.

ON YOUR GRADUATION
, it said on the front, in raised, flowing script. Inside were a few equally overworded lines about “moving into the future with the greatest of hopes and dreams ahead,” beneath which was a big
Congratulations! Love, Dad, Leah, and Benji.
A check, folded, was taped to the inside.

“You didn’t have to do this,” I said, suddenly embarrassed.

“Of course we did! It’s a milestone.” She pointed a finger at me. “Just promise me you’ll spend it on something fun, okay? It doesn’t have to be for books or school stuff. Unless, you know, you want it to be.”

“Thank you,” I said.

She smiled, nodding, and I was finally able to put the card in my pocket, just as Benji returned, this time with Luke in tow. Despite everything, I still got that same little jump in my gut at the sight of him. Like over all those years he’d worn a groove in my heart so deep it would always be there.

“Here he is!” Benji called out. “He was just about to leave but I stopped him.”

“Too bad for you,” I said to Luke.

“Hey, I was told margaritas were involved,” he replied. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

“It’s nine in the morning,” I pointed out.

“Do you want my help or not?”

Leah reached out to Benji, pulling him into her hip. “What
do you say, bud? Ready to go get some breakfast?”

“But I’m helping Emaline and Luke,” he protested.

“Oh, it’s okay,” I told him. “Breakfast sounds much better than dealing with this.”

“But it’s my job,” Benji said, turning to me. “Right?”

Leah raised her eyebrows.

“He’s been doing some stuff around here for me,” I explained. “He’s been a big help.”

“I came up with a new drink and packet system,” Benji chimed in. “I froze the waters!”

“That’s great, honey,” she said, glancing at me. “But I’m sure Emaline will understand if you want the day off to show me around Colby.”

“Oh, sure,” I said quickly. “Go have fun. Trust me, the work will still be here.”

Benji did not look convinced or enthusiastic. But as his mom slid her arm over his shoulder, he allowed himself to be turned towards the door. Leah called out to Margo, “Did I sign everything you needed back at the house? Or is there more?”

“Nothing right now,” my sister replied. “We’ll get the rest of it when we meet this afternoon. In the meantime, I’ll work on finding you all a place for the next few nights.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful, thank you so much.”

“My pleasure,” Margo told her, and then they were leaving, Benji dragging his feet slightly as he went.

Once the door shut behind them, I asked Margo, “Did
you
know she was coming?”

“I knew it was planned for some point. But it was a
surprise to see her today. It’s good for getting the paperwork going though, so I’m glad.” She lowered her voice. “Hey. Are you okay? That thing with your father seemed sort of intense earlier, back at the house.”