Читать книгу This Heart of Mine - Brenda Novak - Страница 11

3

The noise of the dogs brought her mother to the door. Because of Lizzie’s tremendous weight, she moved slowly and ponderously, so Kyle was gone by then. Phoenix was glad of that. But it was never easy to contend with her mother.

“What the hell’s going on out here?” Lizzie shouted, her words and tone containing the caustic edge she was so famous for.

Phoenix pocketed the slip with Kyle Houseman’s number, removed the sandal on the foot that hurt the most and limped close enough that she wouldn’t have to shout. She’d promised herself before she left prison that she’d be unfailingly kind to her mother. As ornery as Lizzie could be, she hated herself more than anyone else did. After what Phoenix had been through, she had greater empathy and understood that Lizzie sounded worse than she actually was. It was smarter not to react to all the cussing and yelling and the harsh things her mother said to drive people away.

Fortunately, the dogs stopped barking and settled down, so it became possible to speak in a normal voice. “Everything’s okay, Mom. Don’t worry,” she said, but a few calm words would never reassure Lizzie. She took nothing on faith and was always ready to fight, even if she was only shadowboxing some imaginary enemy.

A scowl creased what Phoenix could see of her face through the narrow opening. “Thought I heard a car.”

“You did.” Phoenix picked up her sandal. “My feet were hurting, so I caught a ride home.”

Now that she was no longer in danger of revealing herself to anyone else, Lizzie opened the door wider. “From who?”

“Just some guy who passed me.” Phoenix shrugged. Her mother didn’t need to hear the details. She wasn’t even sure what to make of Kyle, whether or not she could trust his kindness. She had few friends in this town and that probably wouldn’t change.

“You hitchhiked?”

“More or less.”

Her mother tsked. “You better watch out. Folks around here hate you, and you have no idea how they might decide to show it,” she said. Then she shut the door.

Phoenix stared at it, wondering why her mother had to be so difficult. Before she left this morning, Phoenix had told Lizzie she’d be having breakfast with Jacob. Why couldn’t she have shown a little interest in that momentous occasion?

She could have at least asked how it went...

Except that Lizzie thought reaching out to Jacob, holding on to any shred of hope that he might accept her, was a waste of time. She insisted that Riley would never allow either one of them to play a significant role in Jacob’s life and Phoenix was a fool for trying to prove she cared.

Maybe it was true.

With a shake of her head, she started back to her own trailer, which wasn’t easy with one bare foot. She had to thread her way through the refuse that had been dumped in the yard since before she was born. That meant circumventing old tires, two broken-down vehicles from when her mother did drive, a decrepit, hand-powered lawn mower, a washing machine. But it wasn’t the big stuff that worried her now that Kyle wasn’t there to see it. She was afraid she’d step on a nail or a piece of broken glass.

If she hadn’t been looking so carefully, she might’ve missed the banged-up bike peeking out from under an old mattress. Once she’d pulled it out, she saw that it had two flat tires and the frame was rusty, but...maybe she could fix it. Then she wouldn’t have to walk every time she needed to go to town.

Pushing the bike, she reached the trailer and leaned it up against the side. This was a project she’d have to tackle later.

She was just climbing the three steps to her door when her mother screeched her name.

From her new vantage point, Phoenix couldn’t see Lizzie’s steps—or Lizzie, either—but it wasn’t difficult to tell she was standing where she’d been before. She rarely came all the way outside.

“Yes?” she called back.

“My toilet’s plugged up!”

Phoenix allowed herself a grimace but was careful to keep the impatience out of her voice. “Did you try to plunge it?”

“You know I can’t bend over like that!”

So who’d played the role of plumber before Phoenix got home? The guy who’d delivered the groceries? Or did Lizzie call—and somehow pay—for a professional? Maybe she got a cut rate, like at the vet’s...

Phoenix didn’t bother asking. She went back and unclogged the toilet. Then she washed the blood off her feet and found some Band-Aids to protect her blisters.

“I’m hungry,” her mother announced as soon as she was done, so she warmed up some soup, hoping her mother would eat a healthy meal instead of the cheap pizza, soda, chips, cookies and candy she normally consumed. Only when Phoenix had finished cleaning out a small section of her mother’s kitchen—the one part not buried beneath all the things her mother hoarded—did she feel free to return to her own place, and by then it was after two in the afternoon.

The day was getting away from her, and she still had several bracelet orders to fill. She also planned to make some progress on the overhaul of her trailer. She’d been living out of the kitchen, bathroom and one bedroom—all she’d managed to put right so far. That alone was a major improvement over what she’d known in prison, but she was determined to turn her humble abode into a home she could be proud of, for its cleanliness if nothing else. People in Whiskey Creek might not believe that she was innocent of Lori Mansfield’s murder, but at least she’d show them she wasn’t willing to live in filth, like her mother.

She’d eventually have to clean the yard, too, if Lizzie would let her. It hadn’t been easy to talk her mother into allowing her to move the junk from the trailer into an old shed. Lizzie was terrified some of it would be thrown away, since the shed was full, too. And that was exactly what Phoenix had done. There wasn’t room for all the newspapers, plastic bags, paper sacks, balls of aluminum foil, empty soda bottles and other garbage her mother had collected. So when Lizzie wasn’t looking, Phoenix had made piles behind her trailer. Then she’d gone out early yesterday morning, on trash day, and dumped everything in the county’s container.

Phoenix was still frightened her mother would find out. Lizzie couldn’t bear to part with a single scrap of anything for fear she’d need it later. But she wasn’t as mobile as she used to be. Phoenix hoped that would save her from discovery. She had enough battles to fight at the moment. She didn’t need a big argument with her mother.

Once Phoenix removed her brown linen shorts and crisp blue cotton blouse—more damp than crisp after her walk home—she pulled on a T-shirt and a pair of old jeans she’d cut into shorts and belted because they were too big for her. The clothes had belonged to one of her brothers. She wasn’t sure which. She hadn’t seen Kip or Cary since she was ten. They’d both left town as soon as they could and never looked back. Kip hadn’t even been eighteen.

Phoenix had thought they might return one day, for her sake, and maybe they would have, if she hadn’t gone to prison. Her mother had spoken to them during her trial and asked them to send money for her defense. They’d helped a little, but it hadn’t been nearly enough to do any good, and they’d only written her a couple of times since. She guessed they considered her a lost cause, like their mother.

Finally beginning to relax after her anxious morning, she started the bracelets that had to be shipped on Monday. She planned to paint afterward. Although the gallon she’d discovered in the old shed at the back of the property wouldn’t go very far, there were another couple of gallons out there, and she found rehabbing the trailer to be a soothing exercise. She loved seeing the place transformed, figured she might as well do what she could with the paint while her mother had her favorite shows to entertain her and was less likely to need anything.

But she couldn’t work as fast as usual. She was too absorbed in thinking about her son, kept stopping to look at the picture of him with braces. She was just planning how she’d decorate his room, which was something she enjoyed imagining, when she put her head down on her wobbly excuse for a desk. She was only going to rest for a few minutes...

* * *

“What do you mean you gave Phoenix a ride?” Although Jacob had helped Riley do the prep work for the shower they were putting in the Victorian that was their current project, Riley had dropped him off at the high school so he could do some weight training with the rest of the baseball team. He’d purposely waited until he was alone to follow up on the text he’d received from Kyle at noon.

“She was walking along the side of the road when I was heading out to see Callie, who has some interesting news to share, by the way.”

Riley opened his mouth to ask for more information about Phoenix but was distracted by the mention of Callie.

“What kind of news?”

“I want to tell you, but...on second thought, I’d better wait and let her.”

“Is something wrong? She’s okay, isn’t she? I mean...nothing’s wrong with the transplant?”

Due to nonalcoholic fatty liver disease, their good friend had a liver transplant a couple of years ago, just before she married her husband, Levi. She seemed to be doing well since, but she had to take immunosuppressant drugs every day, and they had some unfavorable side effects. Riley had always been a little uneasy about her, terrified that there might be a problem with her new liver. If the transplant hadn’t become available when it did, they would’ve lost her.

“She’s fine. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

So what, then? Riley reflected on what they’d been talking about yesterday, when the entire group met at Black Gold Coffee, like they did every Friday. “She’s been planning to expand her photography studio. Is that what’s going on? Did she find the right location? Are you looking over the lease for her?”

“No. I’m sorry I brought it up. I spoke without thinking, because it’s been on my mind so much. But it’s her news. I should let her share it.”

“Why would she tell you and not me?” Riley asked. “If the space she’s considering needs improvements, she’d come to me.”

“You’ll understand later,” Kyle replied with a laugh.

That laugh reassured him. Kyle wouldn’t be jovial if Callie’s life was on the line again. “As long as her new liver is functioning properly...”

“It is. I swear.”

Riley took a deep breath. “Then back to Phoenix. She was probably walking home from Just Like Mom’s, where we had breakfast this morning. I told her it was too far in those sandals.”

“By the time I saw her, she’d gotten about halfway and had such bad blisters she could hardly walk.”

The mental picture made Riley wince, since he could’ve spared her that. “Did she recognize you?”

“Immediately. That’s what made it so difficult to get her into the truck.”

“Why? You don’t have any history with her.”

“But you do, and I’m part of your circle.”

Riley had gone from being the object of her desire to being anathema to her. At breakfast, she was careful not to show her dislike, but she’d barely looked at him. “How’d you convince her?”

“I wouldn’t take no for an answer. I couldn’t bear to let her continue walking on those bloody feet.”

Riley supposed he should’ve insisted on giving her a ride. She wasn’t his responsibility, and yet she sort of was. “Did she tell you we met up this morning?”

“No. She didn’t say much of anything.”

Then what was the purpose of this call? “That’s all you wanted to tell me? That you gave her a ride?”

Kyle cleared his throat. “Actually, no. I wanted to see if you’d mind if...”

“What?”

“If I bought her a few things.”

Riley pulled to the side of the road and sat there with his engine idling. He had his Bluetooth on, so he could legally talk while he was behind the wheel but at the moment, he couldn’t concentrate on anything besides the conversation. “What are you talking about? What kind of things?”

“A few necessities. Nothing big.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I feel sorry for her, okay? She has nothing. I don’t know how long it’s been since you were out at Lizzie’s place, but...it doesn’t look good. When she gets rid of something, she just throws it in the yard. With that kind of start, it won’t be easy for Phoenix to rebuild her life. She couldn’t have saved much in prison, not with the money she kept sending you.”

Riley shook his head in disbelief. “Since when did you develop such compassion for my ex-girlfriend?”

“Since I saw her hobbling down the road, and she was hesitant to accept even the slightest kindness for fear...I don’t know, for fear it would turn out to be another kick in the teeth. She reminds me of an abused animal, the way she tries to avoid people or skirt around them.”

“You learned all this from one encounter.”

“Even after she got in, she hugged the door. She looked like she’d jump out if I so much as raised my hand to scratch my head. She’s got a difficult road ahead of her, especially here in Whiskey Creek. But she’s facing down her detractors for the sake of her son. That takes guts, man. I can’t help admiring it.”

Riley felt the same grudging admiration, but he hated to acknowledge it. Hated to acknowledge that he’d probably go anywhere but Whiskey Creek if he were in her shoes. Not many people could withstand so much negative sentiment, and that wasn’t her only challenge. “Her mother lives here, too,” he pointed out, as if Lizzie gave her a second compelling reason to return.

“If anything, that impresses me more. It’s damn noble of her to come back to that kind of situation.”

Noble wasn’t a word he’d ever heard in conjunction with Phoenix. “You’re serious.”

“I don’t want to debate whether or not she’s really a murderer, Riley. As far as I’m concerned, that’s in the past. Who can say what was going through her mind when she did whatever she did? I only know that according to the judicial system, she’s paid her debt to society. Maybe the Mansfields aren’t satisfied, but seventeen years is a long time and I, for one, am ready to let her move on.”

Riley rubbed a hand over his face. If what she’d said in court—and reiterated this morning—about her friend yanking on the steering wheel was true, she wasn’t even responsible for what had happened. But he didn’t see anything to be gained by dredging that up. The truth was, Kyle’s offer to help her bothered him for other reasons, none of which he wanted to examine too closely. “What are you thinking of buying her?”

“New shoes, for starters. Since she doesn’t have a car, she’s going to be on her feet, walking a lot. And some clothes. Just a few things. I’ll spend three, four hundred dollars, tops.”

Riley winced again, this time at the memory of her buying his breakfast this morning, remembered how carefully she’d laid out the bills. “She won’t take charity, particularly from me or one of my friends.”

“I don’t plan to give her a choice.”

A line of other cars flowed past. “How are you going to avoid that?”

“I’ll buy the stuff and leave it on her doorstep anonymously—if I can get to her doorstep without being bitten by Lizzie’s dogs.”

“How do you know her size?”

“I was hoping you’d have that information.”

“No. I haven’t got a clue.” He suddenly remembered a lazy afternoon when they were hanging out together, and he was teasing her about how small her feet were. She’d told him she wore a six. That jumped into his mind, but he didn’t retract his initial answer. Kyle was going to need more than her shoe size.

“Then I’ll guess, pay cash and include the receipt so she can return or exchange the stuff.”

Riley pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve put some thought into this.”

“It’s been all I can think about since I dropped her off.”

“Fine, if that’s what you’d like to do,” he said. “I’m not sure why you’re even telling me about it.”

“You’re not?”

“It’s not as if she’s my enemy!”

“Really? Because I distinctly remember you not wanting her to come back. You spent years dreading the day.”

Riley couldn’t keep from feeling defensive. “I have a lot on the line,” he said.

“I understand. I’m not faulting you. I just felt I should let you know, because making things easier for her might also encourage her to stay when you’d rather she left.”

He had a feeling she’d stay regardless. She was so stubborn. “I don’t care if you help her.”

“Good. Thanks. And if it’s any reassurance, she told me she’s not out to cause you any trouble.”

“She volunteered that?”

“Pretty much.”

“Why?”

“My guess? To make it clear that she’s on her best behavior. That she wouldn’t ask you for anything, wouldn’t expect anything—even a ride from a friend of yours. She just wants everyone to leave her alone. And she wants to get to know Jacob, of course.”

Riley thought about how quiet his son had been all day. “I think he wants to get to know her, too.”

“Are you comfortable with that?”

He leaned his head back on the seat. “He’s sixteen. I don’t feel it’s my choice anymore.”

“Then we’d better hope her intentions are as good as she claims.”

No kidding. “I guess we’ll see, huh? I’ll talk to you later.”

“Riley?”

He hesitated before hanging up. “What?”

“She’s a lot prettier these days.”

A flash of anger shot through him, and he sat up straight. “That had better not be why you’re helping her!”

“Calm down. It’s not,” he said. “I just wondered if you’d noticed.”

“I’ve noticed,” he responded, and hit the end button.

* * *

“What about this?”

Riley grimaced at the blue dress Kyle had pulled off the rack. He was beginning to wonder what had possessed him to call his friend back and offer to go shopping with him. Just because Kyle had decided to play Santa in the middle of spring didn’t mean Riley had to get in on the act. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” he grumbled.

“I do,” Kyle said. “Phoenix is your son’s mother. So there’s that. And you feel bad about letting her buy you breakfast this morning, knowing she’s got to be living on pennies.”

“No, it’s your fault,” he said. “You dragged me into this.”

“Dragged you? You’re the one who suggested we stop at the grocery store on the way over here and get some canned goods. Thanks to you, we spent nearly fifty bucks on soup and chili and crackers and shit, and walked out of there with almost two boxfuls.”

The memory of Phoenix sitting at Just Like Mom’s in probably the only nice outfit she owned, counting out the money to cover his breakfast, made him squirm. But this wasn’t just about that. Spending a couple hundred bucks to help her get a start was the least he could do, especially if she was innocent. “Food makes sense. She probably needs that most of all.”

The sales assistant approached, a woman by the name of Kirsten, according to her badge.

“Clothes make sense, too,” Kyle said. “So...should we buy it?” He shook the dress to bring Riley’s attention back to it.

“That’s part of our new spring line,” Kirsten volunteered. “The cap sleeves are darling. So is the print. And with the way cotton breathes, it’s perfect for the warmer months. Any woman would love it.”

Riley figured she’d know better than they would. The girl he’d dated years ago would never wear something so feminine. But Phoenix was a woman now, and judging by what she’d had on at the restaurant this morning, her tastes had matured.

Even if it wasn’t the perfect choice, he doubted she’d be too critical. No one could ever accuse her of being spoiled. “I guess it’s fine.” They’d already been shopping for two hours and had agonized over their other purchases just as much. Now the mall was about to close, and they still had a ninety-minute drive home. He was anxious to be done.

With a sigh of relief, Kyle turned to the sales associate. “We’ll take it.”

She was heading to the register when Riley stopped her. “Wait! I don’t think that one will fit.” They hadn’t even looked at the tag.

“What size do you need?” she asked.

“A small one,” he replied.

“That doesn’t tell me a lot.” She chuckled. “How small?”

“We bought something in a size three at the last place,” Kyle told her.

Her heels clicked on the floor as she approached the rack where Kyle had found the dress. “I’m afraid this brand only comes in even numbers—zero, two, four. And I doubt we have a zero. We don’t get many of those. Is there someone you could call or text to ask?”

Kyle took out his phone. “Maybe one of our female friends has seen Phoenix since she’s been home,” he said, but Riley stopped him before he could dial.

“I doubt they have. And it doesn’t matter, anyway, because no one’s supposed to know about this, remember?”

“We can trust Callie, Eve or Cheyenne!” Kyle said.

“The fact that I’m pitching in on this is just between you and me,” Riley insisted.

Kyle scowled. “If it’s not going to get back to Phoenix, what does it matter?”

After everything he’d said through the years, it would seem like too much of a contradiction. And he didn’t want to deal with the questions his buying clothes for her would raise, or what the rest of the gang might surmise from his answers. “We agreed.”

Kyle shoved his phone back in his pocket. “So...what do we do? Make another guess?”

“That’s what we’ve done so far, isn’t it? You said yourself she can always return or exchange.” At least he’d known her shoe size...

“If she can walk all the way to Sacramento,” he muttered. “I wasn’t really thinking of the logistics when I said that.”

“With any luck, all the stuff will fit or she’ll figure out how to get back here and return the things that don’t.” Riley picked up the bags he’d put on the floor. “We’re just dropping this shit on her doorstep and leaving it at that.”

Kirsten obviously didn’t overhear a conversation like this every day. “Who’s the lucky recipient?” she asked, her gaze darting between them.

“An old acquaintance.” Riley had no intention of explaining more than that, even though he could tell she was curious.

“Maybe someone could give her a ride if it doesn’t fit,” she said, as if she’d easily solved that problem.

Riley ignored the comment. She couldn’t know that after spending nearly seventeen years in prison Phoenix had far fewer resources and friends than most people. “We’ll take a two or a four. Your choice.”

“My choice?” she said in surprise.

“If it helps, she’s small, maybe a hundred pounds, but she’s not flat or anything,” Kyle told her. “She’s got a really nice, um, figure.”

“I see.” As Kirsten turned to sort through the rest of the dresses, Riley shot Kyle a dirty look.

“What?” Kyle murmured.

“She’s got a really nice figure?”

He spread out his hands. “It’s the truth!”

“A hundred pounds isn’t much,” Kirsten mused, concentrating hard enough that she seemed oblivious to what they were saying behind her. “I haven’t weighed that since I was twelve. So...I’m thinking a two.”

“That’ll work,” Kyle said, but he would’ve responded the same way no matter what she recommended. They had no idea what they were doing.

“Here we go.” A pleasant smile curved her lips. “Will there be anything else?”

“We’d like one more outfit,” Riley said.

“For the same woman?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She draped the dress over her arm. “Something similar to this or...?”

“Maybe some shorts?”

“Got it.”

When she set off to fulfill Riley’s request, Kyle lowered his voice. “What about underwear?”

“What about it?”

“Don’t you think we should get her some?”

“Hell, no!” He wasn’t about to look at lingerie with Phoenix in mind.

At his unequivocal response, Kyle frowned. “Look, I’m not an only child, like you. I have a sister, so maybe I’m more comfortable with this. But a woman’s got to have underwear. And we passed a Victoria’s Secret store. I say we stop there on our way out, grab a handful of panties and a bra and be done with it.”

Riley stretched his neck. To continue to refuse would only make him seem immature. Kyle was just being practical. But Riley had slept with Phoenix. Of course he’d conjure up images and memories best forgotten. He’d been with only one other girl before her, an older girl who’d approached him at a party with one thing in mind. It had been more of an initiation than anything. But as much as he didn’t want to acknowledge it, even to himself, what he’d experienced with Phoenix had been different—all about mutual discovery and young love. She didn’t realize it, but their breakup had been almost as hard on him. He’d trusted his parents to know what was best for him, and yet he’d never felt sure they were right. “No one had better find out about this.”

Kyle slapped him on the back. “They won’t.”

“Including her.”

“It’s a doorbell ditch. She’ll never catch us.”

“We’re not ringing the damn bell. She can find whatever we leave in the morning. It’s not like it’s going to rain.”

The saleswoman was on her way back, arms full. “Do you like any of these?”

Kyle sifted through the various styles of shorts and shirts she’d collected. “I bet the cutoffs would look nice.”

The saleswoman seemed pleased with his choice. “Would you like to purchase them, too? Maybe with this purple shirt?”

He scratched his head. “I’m not sure about the shirt. I’m not big on purple.”

As they walked over to see about getting the shirt in a different color, Riley wandered through the rest of the store. They’d already bought Phoenix an expensive pair of running shoes, some flip-flops, a pair of “skinny” jeans and a white, lacy tank top. As far as he was concerned, except for underwear, they were finished. But when he turned around to go over to the register, he caught sight of an aquamarine top that looked as if it would match those stormy eyes of hers.

“You coming?” Kyle called.

Riley almost walked off without it. They had enough. But at the last second, he changed his mind and went back.

“Do you want that instead of the pink one we just got?” Kyle asked when he saw what Riley was carrying.

“No, we’ll get this one, too,” he replied. “I’m sure she could use an extra top.”

“You’re spending a lot of money,” his friend complained.

“What are you talking about?” He took out his wallet. “I’m paying half, so you’re still in it for less than you planned.”

“That’s all well and good. But I don’t want you to blame me later for what this cost you, just because it was my idea. You’re the one who’s running up the bill. You insisted on getting the more expensive tennis shoes.” He checked the tag on the shirt. “And this is sixty dollars!”

They could swing sixty bucks for someone who’d never had much of anything. He’d used the same rationale when considering the running shoes. Although he was probably a fool for getting involved in this—it made Phoenix sympathetic to him when he was hoping to keep her at a distance—he was starting to get excited now that they were finished with all the style and size choices. He kept imagining the relief these things would bring her, and that made him feel good despite the ambiguity of the past—or perhaps because of it. “It’ll only be thirty dollars since we’re splitting it,” he said, and watched the salesgirl ring it up.