Читать книгу The Good Mother - Shelley Galloway - Страница 8

The baby doll had been found. Dinner had been consumed, the golf game between August and Mike confirmed, and after promises to get together soon, the Meyer family had taken off.

After a bout of too-tired tears, Evie had gotten the girls bathed, unpacked and asleep. She then padded into her own room, decorated in soft blues and grays, as soothing as a hot bubble bath in the middle of January. Her mother had placed a vanilla candle on the whitewashed dresser, and stuck six spunky daisies in a tall, thin glass.

The tiny bedroom felt cozy and comfortable and more like home than her bedroom suite in her old house in Grapevine.

Undoubtedly, her parents were upstairs, probably waiting for her to reappear so they could have a nice chat, but honestly, Evie wasn’t up for it. The silence was too sweet, the crisp cotton sheets too beckoning.

She sank on the lace coverlet with a sigh and finally relaxed. She’d done it. She’d made it to Florida, and she’d made it through a first conversation with August, which had been an odd mix of tenderness and crazy swirling emotions.

Yawning, Evie stretched back against the padded headboard.

Seeing August had been something of a shock to her system. She’d firmly put him in the back of her mind, in the shadows of her past. She’d had no desire to think about what could have been. No reason to remember what almost was.

Being in the same room with him had opened a million senses, and made everything in her body feel electrified. His touch had made her warm. His caring looks made her pulse race erratically. During that whole conversation with him, Evie’d noticed her brain fogging up, encouraging her to reveal things about her marriage to John that she never shared with anyone…and making that little voice in her heart wonder if maybe she wasn’t as shut down and worn-out as she’d previously thought.

Evie curled onto her side, hugging the down pillow August had placed on her bed, and tried not to feel so much.

“Evie, you okay?” After a brief knock, her mom popped her head in. “Dad and I were wondering if you were going to come back up and visit a while.”

Hastily, Evie released the pillow and sat up. “Sorry. I think the trip has caught up with me. I think I’m going to go to sleep.”

“Oh. Well, all right.” Her mom pattered on in, ignoring the subtle hint and invading her space, just like she always had. “I’m sure you remember where everything is. There’s more blankets in the hall closet. More pillows, too.”

Evie patted the one from home. The one with the pretty yellow case August had placed neatly in the center of the bed. “I’ll be fine. I think that second beer I had with August was a mistake.”

“Probably not the talk, though. You two looked like you were picking up where you left off.”

“I don’t know about that.” But it had been nice to visit with him. Nicer than she would have ever imagined. And because she felt ridiculous even thinking his touching her pillow was worth a second thought, Evie kept her voice level. “He’s a good guy.”

Jan sat down next to Evie, a puff of White Linen perfume floating around her, mixing with the sheets…making everything smell comfortable and familiar. “That August, he’s so considerate.”

He’d been more than that. He’d listened to her and made her feel more relaxed than she had in an entire year. “He was really helpful, unpacking the van and all.”

Jan picked up a pillow that had fallen on the floor and neatly set it against the headboard. “You two sure looked like you were having quite a conversation.”

“Just catching up.”

Her mom nodded. “You’ve got years of that to do. Maybe you should spend some time together.”

The words were spoken casually. So casually that Evie knew that her mother was up to no good. Drawing from past experience, Evie nipped her matchmaking in the bud. “I’m not here for another summer romance, Mom. I’m here to see you and Dad and have fun with the girls.”

“I know, but if something came along, that might be nice, don’t you think?”

No, she did not. Evie couldn’t even imagine having time or energy for a relationship. As it was now, she was lucky if she remembered to eat. “I’m really tired.”

For a split second, her mom scanned her face. Emotion filled her gaze, so strong it brought back memories of major events in their lives…Evie’s graduation, Jenna’s birth. Evie’s announcement that she and John had separated. With a sigh, Jan stood up. “All righty. See you in the morning. Good night, Evelyn.”

Evelyn said, “’Night, Mom.”

Alone again, Evie opened her suitcase, pulled out two cosmetic bags and got ready for bed. She had just crawled under the thick down comforter when she realized she’d forgotten to call John to let him know that they got there safe and sound.

Quickly, she dialed his number on her cell phone, and got his voice mail, as expected. “It’s me. We got to Florida, no problem. The girls say ‘Hey.’ Jenna’s already drawn you two pictures. I’ll pop them in the mail soon.” Then, remembering how much John hated the fancy dinners he always had to attend on his business trips, she added, “I hope you remembered to pack some peanut butter. ’Bye.”

With that, she turned off the light and pulled the sheets up to her chin. As she closed her eyes, so many thoughts filled her mind. Her past, her present.

The lack of dreams about a future, except for the ones that focused solely on the girls.

And, strangely, her mother’s sunny optimism for romance.

“MOMMA, GRANDMA SAYS I gotta eat egg sandwiches,” Jenna announced from the foot of Evie’s bed the next morning. “I hate eggs.”

Evie opened one eye to see just how upset her daughter was. A pouty lip meant not too much. Blotchy cheeks meant a real crisis was at hand and tears were on the way.

Jenna was holding Neena for dear life and balancing a tilting egg-sandwich-laden plate in the other. As Evie expected, Jenna’s cheeks were red enough to make another woman think she needed sunscreen. Uh-oh.

“Oh, Jen.” Evie rolled over and held out her arms. “Put the plate down and come give me a hug.”

Jenna put down the plate and scooted forward, pink puppy dog pajamas riding up her calves as she slipped under the covers.

Evie cuddled her close, loving the coconut shampoo scent in her daughter’s hair and the faint fragrance of hot chocolate surrounding her. When Jenna visibly relaxed, Evie said, “Now, what’s going on?”

Big gray eyes, full of worry and belligerence, stared back at her. “Grandma doesn’t want me just eating Cheerios. She said I get eggs.”

“And you said—”

“I don’t like eggs. I hate eggs! But she didn’t listen.” Jenna shifted to glare at the egg sandwich on the floor. “That’s when she handed me that.”

Evie sat up, eyeing the plate. Ugh. She’d always hated eggs, too. “And that’s when you decided to get some help.”

“Yep. I won’t eat it, Momma. I won’t.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Really?”

“Really. I know you don’t like eggs. I don’t like them, either. Cheerios are fine. What’s Missy doing?”

“Playing with Grandpa, but he says he can’t stay much longer cause he’s gonna go play golf.”

“Boy, I better get up.” Glancing at the clock, Evie did a double take. Nine! When was the last time she’d slept so late?

Jenna pulled back the covers and hopped out, Evie following more slowly. “I hope Grandma made coffee,” she muttered under her breath.

“I hope Grandma made me cereal,” Jenna said with the exact same intonation as she led the way upstairs.

Evie threw on a robe, picked up the offending plate and followed. Sure enough, her mother was at the stove, making still more egg sandwiches. “Hey, Mom.”

“Jenna shouldn’t have woken you up.” Looking around, Jan said, “Where’s your plate, young lady?”

Jenna scooted onto the chair. “Momma said I can have Cheerios.”

Jan put her spatula down and pivoted to the kitchen table. “Jenna, you watch your mouth. Evie, tell her—”

“Mom, Jenna won’t eat eggs. I thought you knew that.”

“But—”

“She won’t. Ever. Let her have some cereal and a banana. It’s good for her.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll eat something, soon,” Evie said, getting a mug and pouring a generous amount of coffee and cream into it.

With a flick of her wrist, Evie watched her mother turn off the burner and pull out a giant box of Cheerios. “Feed your daughter,” she said, thrusting the box at her with a sharp look. “Then feed yourself something. Anything.”

“Oh, Jan. Leave Evie and Jenna alone,” her dad said as he rose from the couch. “Nothing wrong with Cheerios.”

“Morning, Daddy.”

“Morning, sunshine,” Mike said, propping Missy on his hip and taking a seat across from Jenna. “How’d you sleep?”

Evie leaned close and kissed Missy on the forehead. “Great.”

A knock sounded at the door, then it opened slowly, revealing August in a faded blue golf shirt, khaki shorts and a worn leather belt. “Hello?”

Mike smiled brightly. “Hey, August, come on in. Want something to eat?”

August eyed the kitchen counter. “Got any egg sandwiches?”

Mike winked at Evie. “You bet. Jan, can you make August some breakfast?”

As they all expected, Jan bustled back in and hurried to get August a plate. Mike laughed.

Finally, August turned to her. “How are you this morning, Evie?”

She’d just rolled out of bed. She’d barely had a cup of coffee. Her daughter was pouty and her mother was ticked at her. “I’m…good. You?”

“Me?” August looked her over, for some reason making her feel pretty and attractive instead of in need of a hot shower…and well, a makeover. A slow smile lit his eyes. “I’m perfect,” he drawled.

For a split second, Evie felt perfect, too.