Читать книгу Blossom Street - Debbie Macomber - Страница 64

ELISE BEAUMONT

Elise discovered that she was looking forward to starting the sock class. Without letting her daughter know, she’d purchased yarn to knit David, her son-in-law, the first pair. It was a small way of showing her appreciation for his kindness in allowing Elise to live with them during this legal mess. According to a recent update from the attorney, there hadn’t been much progress yet; patience was advised. She still felt mortified that, after all her careful planning, she’d ended up living with her daughter and son-in-law, no matter how temporary that arrangement was.

The afternoon before the Tuesday class, Elise sat on the patio reading, an activity that never failed to satisfy her. Her love of books went back to when she was a child. She was an early reader, and could remember sitting in her crib with a book in her hands, utterly content. That love of books had served her well through the years.

Today she was rereading Jane Austen’s Emma, something she did every decade or so. There were books like that, the true classics she returned to time and time again. Austen, the Brontës, Flaubert and her favorite, George Eliot. These writers described women’s lives and emotions in ways that still resonated a century or more later. She’d just reached the scene where Mr. Knightley chastises Emma when Aurora opened the sliding glass door and stepped onto the patio to join her. “Can we talk for a few minutes, Mom?” she asked tentatively. Aurora sat on the chair next to the chaise longue where Elise reclined with her legs stretched out. Her daughter held a tall glass of tea, ice cubes clinking. She was obviously nervous.

“Of course.” Elise carefully inserted her bookmark and closed Emma. Judging by the way Aurora leaned forward, this was important.

“I want to talk about Daddy,” her daughter informed her, diving headfirst into the most unpleasant of subjects.

Elise was always cautious about anything to do with her ex-husband. Maverick was a slick and dangerous man, personable to the degree that it was difficult to refuse him whatever he might want. “I suppose that would be all right.” Her daughter knew the basic story of how Elise had met Maverick, fallen stupidly in love and married him. The marriage hadn’t lasted eighteen months, two years on paper.

Oh, how that man could talk. Elise swore he could charm a rattlesnake. From the time she was a teenager, she’d known she wasn’t a particularly attractive woman. Maverick had adamantly claimed otherwise, and being young and naive, Elise had delighted in those compliments, swallowing them whole. She’d believed him because she so badly wanted to be as lovely as he said she was. When she was with Maverick she felt beautiful, but it didn’t take her long to realize she was living a fool’s dream.

“What about your father?” Elise asked, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

“You loved him once, right?”

That was a tricky question and difficult to answer. Maverick had come into her life when she’d been at a vulnerable age, when hormones had overruled common sense. At the time, she’d believed she was in love but later acknowledged that it had been lust they’d shared and not love. Love lasts. What they shared didn’t. Yet, all these years after the divorce, she still dreamed of him, yearned for him and wished with everything she held dear that their marriage had turned out differently. The relationship might have worked if Elise could have found a way to accept the man he was.

Unfortunately she hadn’t and it was too late for them. Over the years he’d flitted about the country and, in her view, wasted his life. In some respects she had, too, Elise recognized sadly.

“Mom, you did love him, didn’t you?” Aurora repeated anxiously.

“Yes, I did.” So much that even now it frightened her to admit it.

Her daughter relaxed visibly. “We keep in touch, you know.”

Elise was aware of that. Maverick lived among the dregs of society, as she liked to put it, making his living from card-playing and God knew what else. But apparently he was successful—enough to support Aurora all her life and through college.

Besides his regular payments and then tuition, he’d always sent extra for their daughter’s birthday and at Christmas. The first seventeen years following their divorce, he wrote Aurora once a month but they were never long letters. Mostly he sent postcards to let her know where he was and if he was winning. Winning had always been important to Maverick. In fact, it was everything to him. He lived in search of the elusive jackpot that would set him up for life. To the best of Elise’s knowledge, he’d never found it.

“If you want to keep in touch with your father, that has nothing to do with me,” she primly informed her daughter. Elise had read those postcards, too, and wished she hadn’t—because she was afraid it meant she still cared, still hungered for what was destined never to be.

“Dad and I talk every now and then.”

Elise knew that too. When Aurora was a child, she’d been so excited whenever her daddy called. As an adult, she reacted the same way. Aurora hadn’t been disillusioned by her father yet, and Elise hated the thought that eventually her daughter would face the same disappointment she had. Maverick didn’t intend to hurt those he loved. He was simply careless with the feelings of others; the people he claimed to love never came first with him. He just couldn’t be trusted. If he said he’d be home by nine, he meant he’d be home at nine unless there was a card game going. His moods were dictated by whether he won or lost. If he won, he was elated and jubilant, swinging Elise in his arms and planning celebration dinners. If he lost, he suffered fits of anger and despair.

“He’s coming, Mom,” Aurora announced. She looked directly into Elise’s eyes.

“Coming,” Elise repeated as a numbing sensation spread through her. “To Seattle?”

Aurora nodded.

“Is there some big poker tournament taking place here?” Not that she was likely to know about it.

“He’s coming to see me,” Aurora added with more than a hint of defiance.

“How … fatherly,” Elise murmured sarcastically. “Once every five or ten years he—”

“Mom!”

“Sorry.” Elise clamped her mouth shut before she could say something she’d regret.

“This is what I never understood about you and Dad.” Her daughter seemed to be struggling to hold on to her composure. “You make me feel like I’m being disloyal to you because I choose not to ignore my father.”

“I do that?” This was a painful revelation, and Elise swallowed hard. All she’d wanted was to protect Aurora from certain disillusionment.

Aurora nodded and the tears that brightened her eyes were testament to the truth of her words.

“I’m so sorry. I never realized … I—I did that.” The guilt was nearly overwhelming.

“But you do. Never once in all the years I was growing up did I hear my father say a negative thing about you. Not once, Mom, and yet I can’t remember you ever saying a kind word about him.”

“That is not true.” Elise had tried hard to hide her feelings toward Maverick from their daughter. Surely she’d succeeded—hadn’t she? Gazing into her daughter’s pain-filled eyes, Elise realized that she hadn’t.

Aurora’s shoulders rose in a deep sigh. “Please, Mom, I don’t want to argue about this.”

“I don’t, either.” Racked with self-recrimination, Elise patted her daughter’s knee. “Your father is … your father. I wish I’d given you a better one, but that’s my mistake, not yours.”

“See what I mean?” Aurora cried. “You don’t have anything good to say about him.”

“I was the one married to him, remember? I loved Maverick but we weren’t meant to be together.”

“I know he failed you. He admits it.”

“He failed you too.”

“In some ways, yes, he did,” Aurora agreed, “but in other ways he was a wonderful father.”

Elise understood that Aurora had to believe this. Maverick was the only father she had, and his behavior, his long absences, were all she knew. If she’d ever wondered why he traveled as much as he did, she’d never asked her mother.

“So,” Elise said. The numbness had started to leave her. “Your father is visiting Seattle.”

“Yes, he is.” Aurora seemed to be waiting for more of a response.

“I don’t have a single qualm about you seeing your father,” Elise assured her. “He hasn’t even met his grandsons.”

“He’s looking forward to that.”

Again Aurora stared at Elise as if expecting something more.

“I don’t have to see him,” Elise said. Any encounter with him would be impossible. If Aurora wanted permission to visit with her father, then that was fine with Elise. But when it happened, Elise didn’t plan to be anywhere in the vicinity. “Have him over for dinner or whatever. I’ll conveniently be out for the evening or however long you need.”

Maverick would thank her. Elise was fairly sure he wasn’t any more interested in seeing her than she was in seeing him. They hadn’t spoken in years. There’d been no reason for them to have contact, which was the way Elise preferred it.

“You won’t be able to avoid seeing Dad,” her daughter said, her eyes fluttering in every direction.

“What you do mean?” Elise demanded as a sinking feeling settled over her.

“Dad will be staying here.”

“At the house?” Elise was aghast. This couldn’t be true, but she knew from the undeniable confirmation in Aurora’s face that it was. The numbness was back in full force, and spreading down to her legs. “Does he know I’m living with you?”

Her daughter answered with a nod. “I told him, but he still wants to come.”

“For … how long?”

Aurora hesitated. “Two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” Elise exploded. The book fell onto the patio floor as she sat upright. “That’s out of the question! You can’t possibly believe the two of us can remain in the same house—together—for that length of time.” She blamed Maverick for this. He’d manipulated their daughter into agreeing to it, no doubt because he was down on his luck and penniless. Elise wanted to weep. “I’ll find someplace else for a while,” she murmured, thinking out loud. Really, that would be her preference, but all her things were in storage and God only knew where she could move for that short a period.

“Mom, calm down.” Then, in a softer voice, she added, “Please. There’s no need to overreact.”

Sliding her legs over the edge of the chaise, Elise felt like burying her face in her hands, an urge she resisted. This was going to be a disaster, but her daughter didn’t seem to recognize that.

“Dad’s never asked anything of me before,” Aurora said. “I couldn’t refuse him.”

“He tried the pity approach?”

“No,” she snapped and seemed offended that Elise would suggest it. “He didn’t. Dad has always been generous and wonderful to David, me and the boys.”

“The man isn’t to be trusted.”

“That’s only the way you view him, but to me, he’s my father.”

Elise felt guilty all over again. She was determined not to say another negative word about her ex-husband. “Okay, so he’s going to visit for a couple of weeks.”

Aurora nodded.

“And you’re sure he knows I’m living with you?”

“Yes.” From the tone of her daughter’s voice, Elise suspected this was a complication Maverick hadn’t expected. Well, whatever he was after, whatever he wanted, he’d have to get it past Elise—and she, thankfully, was wise to him. She wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Where will he sleep?” The three-bedroom house was adequate in size but there wasn’t a guest room. Elise had taken the third bedroom and arranged it into a tiny studio-like apartment. She had a microwave, her own bathroom, a television area complete with rocking chair, and her single bed. That was all she needed. She had privacy, a small refuge from the world, and could retreat to her room in order to give her daughter and family their own space.

“I’m putting Dad in with the boys.”

That was a wise decision. Her grandsons, while an absolute delight, could be little hellions. Maverick was unaccustomed to being around children. Elise suspected he wouldn’t last long sleeping in the same room as Luke and John.

“This isn’t the easiest situation,” Aurora continued.

Elise rolled her eyes toward the sky. “That’s putting it mildly.” Then she instantly felt another wave of guilt.

“I need you to work with me, Mom, not against me.”

“I would never do anything to hurt you,” Elise told her daughter, hiding her distress that Aurora would even imply such a thing.

“But you want to hurt Dad.”

“That’s not true,” Elise denied hotly. “I don’t have any feelings toward your father one way or the other.” That was a lie and her face flushed with color as she said it.

“Mo—ther,” her daughter cried, challenge in each over-enunciated syllable. “You have so many unresolved issues with Dad, it would take days to list them all.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Her daughter knew her well, but at this moment what mattered was maintaining a pretense of complete indifference. Somehow she’d survive these two weeks.

Aurora sampled her iced tea for the first time, her knuckles white around the glass. “I don’t want to get into that with you, especially now. I need your word that you won’t say or do anything, and I mean anything, to upset Dad.”

“I would never—”

“It’s crucial to keep the peace. I don’t want to subject the boys to your anger toward Dad.”

Elise was upset that her daughter could believe she’d be the one to cause problems. “You have my word I will do whatever I can to make your father’s stay as pleasant as possible.” If that meant hiding in her room for the next two weeks, then so be it.

“Don’t promise this lightly, Mom. It’s the most important request I’ve ever made of you.”

Elise wondered again whether she should move out and save them all this grief. Sadly, she had nowhere else to go. She was stuck in the same house with the man she’d both loved and hated for the last thirty-seven years.