A Mother's Homecoming (16 page)

The thought stopped her, and she quit in the middle of a Rolling Stones song. Someone else. How much of her was the same Pamela Jo Wilson who'd grown up in this house, hating her mother and loving guitar, and how much was simply Pam—a slightly older, slightly wiser, more tired, more realistic, much more centered person?

Recalling her wild weekend with Nick, spent mostly on his living room floor and tangled in his bed, she grinned.
Maybe not so old or tired.

She settled into Clapton's “Wonderful Tonight,” which had been the theme for her and Nick's senior prom and kept right on playing for hours, taking only the occasional break, until her voice started to go and she'd developed blisters. When she accidentally sliced one of those blisters open, she put the guitar aside, blinking in surprise. It was morning?

Hazy sunlight was starting to filter through the windows. The rain had stopped, and the night was over.

F
OR TWO AFTERNOONS
in a row, Pam and Faith worked on basic chords. The second afternoon, Faith asked if she could sing one of her original compositions, but she lost her nerve at the last minute.

“Don't worry about it,” Pam said. “Maybe next time. Tell you what, I have to go hammer some decorative molding back into place. You want to practice by yourself for a little while?”

“That would be great.” Faith looked a bit relieved to have time alone to go over what she'd learned. It was difficult to improve when you didn't have your own guitar to practice on; Pam wondered if Nick would be able to hold out until Christmas.

Faith had thought the building-up-calluses part
sounded gross, but other than that, she seemed like a natural.

On Sunday, Pam and Faith decided to forego music lessons in favor of dress shopping. Pam had hoped to get a head start on it the day before—with the big dance coming the following Saturday, they were cutting it close—but the salon had been packed from open to closing. Dawn hadn't been kidding about all the alumni in town getting ready for various events this week. Nick, as a former Mimosa High football star, was planning to take Faith to the big game Friday night and they'd asked Pam to join them.

While Pam drove her daughter to the closest mall, about twenty minutes out of town, Faith implored her to talk to Nick.

“He's making me nuts kidding around about signing up to chaperone the dance,” Faith said. “At least I hope he's kidding. That's the problem. He might be serious! You have to do something. Keep him busy that night.”

“Excuse me?”

“Take him bowling, see a movie. Whatever people your age do,” Faith said.

“People
my
age?” Pam pulled a face. “Word of advice, kid. If you're trying to get a woman to do you a favor, don't make her feel like she's older than dirt.”

“Oh, I didn't mean that. You guys are both way younger than most of my friends' parents. I just meant, Dad's never really dated very much, so I'm not sure what exactly he'd do on one.”

If Nick hadn't dated, it had to have been his choice. He was a gorgeous, successful guy with broad shoulders to lean on and a wicked sense of humor. Or had his dating been curtailed because of Faith? Maybe he'd
worried how she would handle the idea or he'd simply been too busy as a single parent. Or were women resistant to the idea of being with a man who came with a ready-made family?

Pam felt herself getting indignant on his behalf. Any woman would be lucky to have Nick and Faith! They … She stopped, wincing at the irony and trying not to lose her breath at the realization of all she'd sacrificed. Today was her first mother-daughter outing with Faith. If Pam hadn't run twelve years ago, she would have driven her to school and dentist appointments and maybe music lessons. It was a sure bet that, hearing her daughter's voice, she would have encouraged her to develop that talent.

The thought gave her pause … because she actually believed it. She'd left because she hadn't loved her own child, but whatever the past had held, Pam knew she could love her now. It was far easier to imagine herself cheering her daughter on than it was to picture herself belittling her or lashing out at her.

“How old were you when I was born?” Faith asked suddenly.

“Uh … How about we listen to some music?” Pam didn't know how to handle the topic of her and Nick's romantic history. On the one hand, she was tempted to use her teen pregnancy as a teachable moment, demonstrating why the only real way to be careful was to wait. Then again, she didn't want to make it sound like anyone regretted Faith's existence.

“All right.” Faith shot her a knowing look, but turned on the radio. Before long, they were singing together, naturally harmonizing. Pam actually stopped at one point, just to enjoy the way her daughter was belting out the lyrics.

She's better than I was.
Unpolished, sure, but gifted. But Faith hadn't let that single gift define her. She was a well-rounded girl with varied interests and countless possibilities for the future. Again, Pam thought to herself what a good job Nick had done as a parent. Of course, he'd told her how much Leigh and his mother had helped over the years.
Crap. Next time I see Gwendolyn, I'm going to have to be nice to her.

At the first store, Pam steered Faith away from a rack of dresses that, while technically the right size, were completely inappropriate for her age. “Not those.”

Faith laughed. “I know. Dad's head would explode. Morgan has this insanely convoluted plan for how to get the dress she really wants to wear—which her Mom won't let her—into her locker at school so that she can slip away from the gymnasium during the dance and change. Tasha and I keep telling her it won't work. The side hallways are locked during special events so no one can sneak off and get in trouble.”

Pam paused, wondering how much she could safely interfere without alienating Faith. “You and Morgan are pretty good friends?”

Faith nodded promptly. “She was the first person who was nice to me when Dad and I moved here. And she totally knows what it's like to deal with divorce, not that my problems were as bad as hers. I was never that close to Jenna. Plus, even during the divorce, Jenna and Dad didn't scream at each other. You should hear Morgan's parents.”

Pam winced, feeling unwanted sympathy for the Bad Seed. “My mom screamed all the time when I was a kid. That can be rough.”

“Who was your best friend?” Faith wanted to know. “Ms. Lewin?”

Much as Pam liked Dawn, then and now, Pam had never wanted to burden her with the realities of life at the Wilson house. Dawn had spent the night only once, and had watched with wide-eyed shock as Mae staggered drunkenly down the hallway with the cordless phone, arguing loudly with some guy she'd been seeing.

“Actually,” Pam said, “I'd have to say your dad was my best friend. He's a great guy. Do me a favor? Listen to him. Sometimes it will seem like more fun, or at least cooler, to do what Morgan or someone else tells you to do. But if your father tells you it's a bad idea or your heart tells you it's a bad idea, walk away. Especially if alcohol is involved.”

Faith regarded her seriously. “Is that why you used to drink too much, because some friends talked you into it?”

“I drank for a lot of reasons, none of them good. You're genetically predisposed, so you may need to be even more careful than your friends. And one or two really hateful jerks might even tease you, but that's preferable to stumbling and breaking your arm. Or wrapping your car around a tree. Got it?”

Faith nodded. “Got it.”

“All right, enough with the after school special. Let's find you a killer dress.”

M
IMOSA WAS ABUZZ
with special events related to the homecoming. As far as Pam could tell, the week was crazy busy for everyone. Business at the salon never let up. Faith didn't have time to practice guitar chords because she was studying for the school year's first round of major exams. Nick's construction crews doubled productivity now that they were working in humane
temperatures. And Julia took two private orders for jewelry. One was for Faith, who had insisted on paying for a great necklace to go with her dress for the dance. The other order was a bit more substantial—a woman getting ready to take a cruise with her five sisters had commissioned a set of jewelry for each sister, all of similar design but with slightly different colors and stones.

For the first half of the week, Pam enjoyed the whirl of people and activity, but by Friday, she was frazzled. She was in the salon's laundry room, adding detergent to a load and counting the hours until the end of her shift, when Beth called her to the front.

“Pam, you've got a delivery from a florist up here.”

Had Nick sent her flowers again? She wracked her mind, trying to figure out what the occasion was. It was possible he just wanted to say thanks for her help with Faith's dress, but they'd brought that home days ago. He'd fussed over his daughter, who looked too much like “an elegant young woman—can't you go in pigtails and overalls instead?” But it was easy to tell he approved of their choice.

Curious, Pam quickly set the dials on the washer and headed to the front desk. Once she saw the long box, she started laughing and couldn't stop. “Seriously?” she asked no one in particular. “He sent me a homecoming mum?”

It was tradition at the high school for guys to get their girlfriends one of these huge adornments. At the top, a fluffy white mum was centered in ribbons of blue and gold, the high school's colors. From there, long blue and gold ribbons trailed nearly to the floor, many with letters or decals on them. The sparkling foil letters on
one of her ribbons spelled out Mimosa High; another read NS and PJW. Among the ribbons were chains of gold plastic microphones and guitars, as well as gold football helmets. It was incredibly gaudy.

Dawn stopped short when she saw it, wrinkling her nose uncertainly. “That is
something,
isn't it? I can't tell if he's crazy about you or trying to punish you.”

Pam grinned at the eyesore. “What does it say about me that I kind of love it?”

“That you two are made for each other.”

“Y
OU ACTUALLY WORE IT
.” Nick stood at the front gate of the football stadium, grinning as she approached. Pam had ridden over with Dawn, but Nick had promised to get her home afterward. They would probably take Faith for a milk shake after the game.

“Of course I wore it! I'm just sorry I didn't have time to make a blue-and-gold arm garter for you.” She'd entertained the idea for a few minutes even as she'd known she didn't have the time, materials or energy.

Frankly, she wasn't sure she had the energy for tonight. Part of her had wanted to simply curl up under a comforter and go to bed early. It wasn't just the hectic week, it was a groundless melancholy that had been growing all evening.

As she walked toward Nick, she had to kick ribbons free as they tried to tangle around her legs. “Fair warning—this thing trips me, I sue.”

He laughed. “I believe you. I know how much you want to buy a dishwasher for that house.”

“Not to mention roof repairs and a ton of stuff for the backyard.”

On her skills and budget, though, she'd come about as far as she could. While she knew that roof repairs
would come up during a property inspection, she thought it would be more a point of negotiation for closing costs, not enough to scare away prospective buyers. It wasn't a half-bad little house. The foundation was solid and the potential was there.

It was time to put it on the market.

“Faith's already inside,” Nick said. “She and this Bryce kid are sitting a couple of rows in front of us. Enough room that we won't be eavesdropping on their conversation, but we should be able to see if he tries anything funny. Oh, and I hope you don't mind, but …”

“Yes?”

“We're sitting with Leigh and A.J.”

At the mention of his sister, she sighed. “Joy. No, that's fine, I can get along with anybody for one night.” Especially when she was too drained to be feisty. “I don't suppose she brought more cookies with her?”

“Sorry, no. If you're hungry, we can hit the concessions stand.”

“I was kidding about the cookies, but a soft drink sounds pretty good.” Maybe the caffeine would give her the jolt she needed to get pumped up for the game.

It seemed like the entire county had turned out for the football game, and she held Nick's hand to keep from losing him in the crowd. At one point, a man jostled into her with significant forward momentum. The force of impact separated her from Nick. She staggered slightly but didn't fall. Meanwhile, rather than stop in the middle of pedestrian traffic, Nick let himself get swept into the crowd. She saw him stop at the side of the walkway a few yards ahead, waiting for her.

“Sorry,” the man said. He had a little girl on his
shoulders and was walking with a woman who had an even younger toddler at her hip.

“I'm all right.” Pam did a double take, recognizing him as Jake Stein from AA. She smiled, but he wasn't really focused on her. His eyes look glazed. “Jake, are you okay?”

He didn't bother answering. His only response was a puff of air blown through his lips, a not-quite raspberry that made it clear he was annoyed by her question.

“I'm sorry, you are …?” The woman next to him, who must have been Mrs. Stein, darted her gaze from Pam to Jake. “Honey, do you know this woman?”

He gave a shrug that bounced the little girl on his shoulders and made her giggle. “It's M'mosa. Everyone knows everyone. C'mon, let's get the girls to the bleachers. She's heavy.”

Pam stood to the side of the narrow walkway as the family passed. Was it her imagination, or was Jake's gait unsteady? It was possibly the result of walking with a fifty-pound child on his shoulders, for all she knew. But her misgivings were strong enough that instead of turning toward Nick and getting those soft drinks, she stood planted where she was, unable to take her eyes away from the Stein family. When she'd been a kid, she'd developed a sense of impending doom that always started with the pit of her stomach.