Baggage Check (28 page)

“Next time you guys come over for dinner, he'll be around in case Bonnie needs someone to cuddle with. Or the new baby.”

“You've never had us over for dinner,” Marci said gently. She was definitely showing now, Rebecca noticed. And she looked tired.

“Let's add that to the list of things that need to change when I get home. And that's enough work for today.”

“When are you coming home?” Suzanne asked.

“Soon, I think,” Rebecca said.

They made their way out, turning off lights as they went, and discussing the limited dinner options for the evening. Jake led the way, and he was the first to the front door.

“Bec,” he called, as Rebecca located the house key on the kitchen counter. “There's a car pulling into the driveway.”

He came,
Rebecca thought.
He's finally over being mad. He'll make some terrible joke. We'll all go out to dinner and he'll get to know my friends, and …

What? What are you hoping for?
She found that she did not know the answer but her smile widened as she moved past Suzanne and Marci toward the door. But it was not Alex Chen getting out of the car in the driveway. It was her dad.

Richard Williamson shook Jake's hand and nodded a greeting to the women, while Sonia tittered and fussed over introducing herself to everyone as “Richard's friend.” Rebecca could not help but think of her conversation with Alex on this subject and tried not to smile. She noticed that Sonia was keeping her eyes carefully away from the house, as though it were haunted.
She may not be wrong,
Rebecca thought darkly.

“Hey,” she said to her dad. “We were just leaving for the night.”

“I thought that might be the case.” He slung an arm around Rebecca's shoulders. “Rockstar mentioned y'all were here, and we came by to see if we could have you all over to dinner to celebrate.”

“And,” Sonia added, “we hoped maybe y'all would spend the night with us, too. I know it must be crowded with all four of you wedged into Richard's little old place.”

The four of them answered simultaneously. Rebecca said, “Oh, Sonia, thanks anyway,” shaking her head, while the other three said various forms of “yes, please,” “thank you,” and maybe even “Oh, thank God.”

Rebecca looked at her friends, who all looked carefully away, and realized she couldn't refuse them a little comfort their last night here. Since she'd been sleeping on the floor for two nights herself, she had to admit that even one of Sonia's guest bedrooms sounded like an improvement. “Thanks, Sonia, that's really generous.”

When she turned to see how her dad felt about the sleepover, Rebecca saw that he had gone into the house. “Why don't we wait out here?” Sonia said. “Rebecca and her dad might need a moment.”

She stayed a few steps behind him as he went through the house, examining little cracks in the walls and the condition of the windowsills as though he were considering the house for purchase. Rebecca realized he and her mom must have done this together, nearly thirty years ago, when she and Cory were still little and they were moving up from the even tinier house she'd been born in. She knew they had put every penny they had into the down payment on this place back then, and that her dad had taken pride in maintaining it for years. Rebecca felt her anger dissipating as she realized why it was so hard for him to be here anymore.

Richard looked in the office that had once been her bedroom, and the master that had once been his. “Wow,” he said. “You got a lot more done than I thought you would.”

“Thanks,” Rebecca said. She noticed that he hesitated for a moment in Cory's doorway, and wished she had remembered to close the door. Then he went in.

“The high school might want these uniforms,” he said to her. “They asked for them years ago but your mother wouldn't part with them. They'd probably take a couple of the trophies from his senior year, too. The others, just leave on the floor here. I'll take them to Sonia's.”

“To Sonia's? You're officially moving in?”

He sighed. “I figure it's time. She's already putting up with me most of the time anyway. I'm going to retire in January, and Sonia wants to travel more. Be easier to have one less house to worry about.”

“That makes sense,” Rebecca said uncertainly.

“It never ends like you think it will,” he said. He sat down hard on Cory's bed and Rebecca saw a little puff of dust rise in the late-afternoon light from the window behind him. “You make all these plans, you know? And God laughs. When I was your age … no, younger, even. We had plans, your mom and I.”

“I know, Daddy.”

“When you take out a thirty-year mortgage, the end of it seems so far away, and all you can picture is how happy you'll be. You imagine the promotions at work that will make the payments easier to bear, and you think of watching your children grow.”

“You don't have to explain—”

“You don't think about burying a child. You don't think about letting go of the house with eight months left on the mortgage. You don't think that the woman you love with all your heart will become a stranger, and that you'll be too weak and selfish to help your baby girl take care of things.…”

“Daddy. You're not weak.”

He smiled at her. “You going to see your mom tomorrow?”

“After everyone leaves, yeah.”

“I'm filling in for Route 3 tomorrow, so I'll be done early. Want some company?”

“Sure, Dad.”

 

31

When her friends left for Atlanta the next morning, Rebecca was genuinely sorry to see them go. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt comfortable with her place in their little circle.

They had sneaked out of Sonia's house early, not long after they heard Richard's car leave the driveway, stopped off for a quick breakfast at Waffle House, and returned in Suzanne's car to Richard's little bungalow. Rebecca's own car was there, and Jake's truck as well. He transferred his wife and her bags to the truck while Suzanne complained in advance about being lonely on the drive home.

“Don't you have your husband's CDs in the car?” Jake asked. “Can't you listen to those?”

Suzanne was already tearful, which was uncharacteristic, especially when sober. Jake's teasing seemed to make this worse, and she gave Rebecca more hugs in a half hour than she had in the past year. “Don't tell me you're pregnant, too,” Rebecca said. “Based on the pictures you sent, I don't know if you have much room to grow in that wedding dress.”

“No,” Suzanne said. “Maybe in a year or so, after I figure out what it's going to be like having Dylan back on tour. Then we'll see.”

Marci hugged Rebecca so tightly that she could feel the hard little lump of her pregnant belly pressing against her. The sensation was strange, but Rebecca did not pull back from it. Her relationship with Marci had improved exponentially over the last few weeks, and she didn't want to risk putting a damper on it.

“You'll call us as soon as you're back?” Jake said. “Or if you need my help again?”

“Yes,” she said, accepting his side-arm hug. “But I think I'll be okay. Dad said he would help me finish things up. And I'll be home soon.”

She stood in the driveway and waved as they pulled out, noting with amusement that Suzanne already had her hands-free headset on and was talking animatedly to someone before she even got out of the driveway. Rebecca smiled and went back inside, feeling full and hollow at the same time.

She called Valerie on impulse, and was surprised that she answered the phone almost immediately. “Hey, girl.”

“Hi, Val, I was just going to leave a message. I figured you'd be working today.”

“Nope, I'm stuck in Toronto,” she said. “Stomach bug.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.”

“Me, too. If I'm going to have to call out sick, I'd rather be at home in my own bed instead of some hotel room. Did you know room service charged me fifteen dollars for some ginger ale and stale crackers? Like it's not bad enough I've got it coming out both ends, I have to lose it from my pocketbook, too.”

“That's terrible,” Rebecca said. “I wish I could help.”

“Eh, that's all right. It's good to talk to you. How are things in East Bumble?”

“Getting better, I think. I was thinking about coming home soon.”

“That's great, hon.”

Valerie was beginning to sound distracted and Rebecca worried she might be feeling ill again. “Well, I'll let you rest,” she said.

“You were just calling to say hi?”

“Yeah. Well, I wanted to ask you about something, but it can wait until you're feeling better.”

“I'd argue with you, but I feel the demons moving around again, so I'd better hang up.”

*   *   *

Her father came around one thirty. Rebecca found it funny that he knocked on the door of his own house when he arrived. “I like what you've done with the place,” he said. Of course she hadn't done anything, but she accepted his attempt at humor with a smile anyway.

“I guess you'll be letting this place go soon, too,” she said. “When is your lease up?”

He laughed. “I haven't had a formal lease in a couple of years,” he said. “I guess technically it's month to month, but the lady who owns it is real nice, so I'll give her a few weeks' notice at least.”

Richard held the car door for her, just like Alex always did, and they drove in silence to Mountainside. The nurse on duty was a quiet redhead Rebecca had seen once or twice, and she gave them a tight smile as she led them to the art studio, where Lorena was sitting in the corner by the window, holding a paintbrush. Rebecca went to her first, while Richard hovered in the doorway.

Her mother did not seem to hear her approach. She was staring out the window at the valley below, or maybe somewhere else beyond sight.

“Hey, Mama,” Rebecca said gently, not wanting to startle her.

“Becky,” Lorena said softly. “Rebecca. I'm glad you're here.”

“You are?”

“Yes. Isn't the landscape here beautiful? I've lived here more than half my life, but I feel like I'm seeing it for the first time.”

“I know what you mean,” Rebecca said.

Lorena looked up at her, and then focused her attention over Rebecca's right shoulder.

“Richard?”

For a moment, Rebecca thought her mother had become confused again; then she heard her father's voice behind her. “Hi, Lorie.”

Lorena's bottom lip trembled almost imperceptibly, and Rebecca saw her grip tighten on the paintbrush. “Richard. You came to see me.”

“Yes, honey. I did. Let's go sit outside. It's a nice day.” He held out his arm to her, and Lorena took it gingerly. Rebecca had a sudden memory of a Christmas morning long ago, when she was eleven or twelve years old. Her father had bought her mother a new food processor as a surprise, something she had wanted for years. He made her close her eyes and led her into the kitchen so he could see the surprise on her face.

As they passed her on their way to the double doors going out to the patio, Richard said, “Rebecca, honey, go get us some coffee, would you?”
In other words, get lost
.

Rebecca went to the coffee area and took the time to brew a fresh pot. While she waited for it, she refilled the sugar and sweetener packets and the cup full of stirrers, and then wiped down the counter with a paper towel she wet in the ladies' room.
I really do need to get back to work,
she thought.

Even with all her stalling, by the time she reached the patio with three coffees in hand, she still could not bring herself to interrupt. She stopped at the door and watched her parents, the first time she had seen them together in years. They sat in metal patio chairs facing one another, hands clasped tightly together. Her father was leaning down with his forehead pressed against hers, talking softly. She could see tears on her mother's cheeks, but could not make out what was being said.

As she watched, Richard put his hand beneath Lorena's chin and lifted her face to his. He kissed her gently on the lips, and then leaned closer and whispered in her ear.

Watching this tenderness between them, a hope welled in Rebecca's chest. She knew it was a child's hope, but she allowed it to fill her nonetheless.
Maybe, maybe
 … How could two people who shared such intimacy ever really part? How could her father give up this kind of love for a silly little thing like Sonia? As if proving her point, he sank slowly to his knees in front of his wife, and Rebecca saw the flash of a sheepish grin before he placed his head on her lap. Lorena held his head in her hands, comforting him.

After a few moments, Rebecca could not stand there with the hot coffee any longer, so she went out the open door and walked softly toward her parents. “Hey, guys,” she said awkwardly.

Richard stood and walked to the edge of the patio, away from Rebecca, and leaned on the railing to look over the countryside. She knew he did not want her to see the emotion on his face, so she turned to her mother. “Sit down, baby,” Lorena said, patting the chair next to her. It was the most motherly she had sounded in years. “Your dad and I talked. I've … we've decided that I am going to live with Aunt Jo and Uncle Larry in Mobile. They have an apartment over their garage. It's real nice. And your father and I are getting a divorce.”

 

32

Over the next few weeks, Lorena's recovery seemed to gain traction. Rebecca visited her daily and was able to observe the change herself, as well as hear about it from the Mountainside staff. It was as though Richard's visit had sped her return to reality—too late to save her marriage, but perhaps not too late for whatever else might come. She no longer had periods of total disconnect from reality, and each day she seemed stronger and happier. She, Rebecca, and Richard had all been in touch with Lorena's sister Jo, who had cleaned out the small apartment over her garage in Mobile and was readying it for her sister's arrival. One of the therapists at Mountainside connected Lorena with an art therapist in Mobile, and she had already registered for a painting class that started in October.