Like Dandelion Dust (8 page)

Suddenly she could almost see their lives laid out before her. Their son would come home, and whatever loss he felt, she and Rip would make up for it. He would be happy and well-cared-for, playing ball with his daddy on spring days and fishing all summer long. With Rip back to work at the movie theater or the local garage, they might move into a bigger house, in a nicer neighborhood. Their son would have other siblings one day, and the Porter family would live happily ever after.

She searched Rip’s eyes. “I’ll help you.” The first bit of a smile lifted her lips. She handed him the file. “You need to read this.”

He took it, his movements slower, gentler than before. After he looked at the cover he lowered himself the rest of the way to the floor and sat beside her. “The adoption file.”

“Yes. And, Rip . . .” She drew a slow breath, “I think I have a story that’ll work.”

With that they set their plans in motion. Now it was only a matter of carrying them out and waiting for the day Wendy never thought she’d see.

The day her son would come home to stay.

Chapter Six

B
y the time Molly picked Joey up at Cricket Preschool that Wednesday, she’d finished half her to-do list: an early workout with Jack in the weight room upstairs, an hour of unofficial secretarial duties—typing a letter and organizing his files on the Birmingham Remming account, the one that always drove him crazy. He had a secretary at the office, but Jack was ambitious. With his pace, he needed extra help, and she was happy to give it. Besides the work for Jack, she had her monthly phone meeting with their property manager to make sure all was well with their rental houses.

She still needed groceries and a phone call with Beth. Just to clear the air after their barbecue. The few times they’d talked since the weekend, Beth had seemed short, the way she always acted when her feelings were hurt.

Molly lined up with the other mothers outside Room 4, Mrs. Erickson’s room. When Joey spotted her, his face came alive. He held up a small white teddy bear. “I won, Mommy. I did my best and I won!”

“Thatta boy!” She stooped down and held out her hands the way she always did when she picked him up from school.

He was only fifteen feet away, but he ran with all his might and jumped into her arms. He was getting bigger, and the lift up was harder all the time. But she was still able to swing him up into her arms. He wrapped his little legs around her waist, and they touched foreheads.

“Eskimo noses first, okay?” He hid his stuffed bear behind his back and waited for her response.

“Eskimo noses it is!” She brushed the tip of her nose against his.

“Butterfly kisses, too.” He brushed his eyelashes against hers.

“Butterfly kisses.” Her heart melted. She loved everything about being Joey’s mother. “Okay.” She drew back and grinned at him. “How’d you win the bear?”

“I knew my ABCs.” He pulled out the stuffed toy and held it inches from her face. “He’s the bestest bear ever, Mommy. Softy and furry and growly on the inside.” Joey’s brow lowered and he tried to make himself look mean. “I named him Mr. Growls. ’Cause bears aren’t really that friendly with little boys and girls. That’s what teacher said.” He cocked his head. “But he’ll get along with Mr. Monkey, right? ’Cause Mr. Monkey is my bestest animal friend.”

“Right. They’ll be pals, I’m sure.” She hid her laugh and eased him back to the ground beside her. They walked outside and stopped on the sidewalk. “Okay, let’s see this softy, furry, growly bear.” She held out her hand.

Joey giggled and plopped the bear into her fingers. “See? Isn’t he perfect?”

“Oh, my.” Molly studied the toy, turning him sideways and upside down. She jumped back and held him out to Joey again. “He is growly. He scares me.”

“Mommy!” He drew out her name the way he did when he thought she was being silly. Again Joey laughed, and the sound bathed the cloudy morning in warmth and sunshine. She took hold of his hand and they crossed the parking lot toward their SUV. “I have a surprise!” She looked down at him, at his bouncy way of tagging along beside her. She could feel her eyes dancing.

“What?” He stopped and faced her. He had Mr. Growls by the ear as he did a few jumps.

“Costco!” She raised her fists in the air as if this were the best possible surprise a mother could give her son.

He lowered his chin and gave her a pointed look that was all Jack’s. “Ah, Mommy. You still have errands, you mean? I want to play give-and-go today. Me and you and Gus.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah.” She clicked the locks open on the door and helped him into the back. He hopped up into his booster seat, and she buckled him in. “We’ll play when we get home, okay, buddy?”

“Okay.” He wasn’t disappointed. His eyes shone with the same sweetness they’d had when he walked through the classroom door a few moments earlier.

“One more thing . . .” She kissed his cheek. “Don’t forget about the samples.”

A smile brought his dimples to life again. “Oh, yeah. They have the bestest samples, Mommy. Remember?”

“I know.” She closed the door and climbed into the front seat. “That’s why I saved that errand ’til you were with me.”

“Okay.” In the rear-view mirror she could see him studying Mr. Growls again. He scrunched up his face as mean as he could and growled at the bear. The scowl faded when he saw her eyes in the mirror. “I love samples.”

Costco took longer than she wanted. Joey sampled enough teriyaki chicken and buttered bread to make up for lunch, so they decided to pass on the sandwiches. When they got home, Joey helped her carry in the groceries, managing the super-sized paper towels on one trip and the giant package of paper plates on another.

“That’s almost bigger than you, buddy.” Molly was trailing him. She wasn’t sure he could see over the top of the package. “Want some help?”

“Nope.” He heaved the plates a little higher, stumbled, and caught his balance. “Daddy says real men help out.”

She sucked her cheeks so she wouldn’t laugh out loud. He wasn’t
trying
to be cute, after all. When she had her composure, she steadied the box in her own arms and leaned over him to open the garage door. “Well, no question about it. You’re a real man, Joey. Definitely.”

He puffed his chest out and carried the plates the rest of the way to the kitchen without any further stumbling. When the groceries were put away, they went out to the basketball hoop in the driveway. The clouds had parted and the afternoon promised to be nothing but blue skies and warmth.

“I love give-and-go, Mommy.” Joey put one foot forward.

She bent over and tied his shoelaces. “I love it, too.”

Give-and-go was something Joey had picked up watching basketball with Jack. During warm-ups, a player would pass the ball to a teammate at the free throw line. That player would then pop the ball right back to the first player as he cut to the basket, just in time for him to make an easy layup.

Molly finished tying his shoes and took up her position. She still needed to call Beth, though something about the pending conversation made her feel unsettled. She held out her hands. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Joey dribbled the ball—a miniature replica of the kind used in the NBA—and pretended to pass it to a couple of invisible teammates. Then he did a sharp bounce pass to her and took off toward the basket.

In a single motion, she caught the ball and passed it back to him nice and easy. Jack had lowered the hoop so it was only nine feet high. Joey stopped as he reached it, and with impressive form, he sent the ball up and into the net. He pumped his fists into the air. “Yes! LeBron James scores again!”

“LeBron James?” Molly brushed a piece of hair back from her forehead. “I thought you were Shaq.”

He shook his head. “Shaq’s old, Mommy. Daddy says I shoot like LeBron James. He’s the most amazing player ever. Maybe more amazing than Michael Jordan!”

“Oh . . . I see.” She held out her hands. “Okay, LeBron. I’m ready for the next pass.”

His giggles filled the air and soothed her soul. They played for an hour before Joey started yawning. At four years old he still took a nap. He made a few more shots, and they went inside. She read him
Yertle the Turtle
, his favorite Dr. Seuss book. Then she bent down and kissed the tip of his nose. “Have a nice nap.”

The navy curtains were drawn, the baseballs and basketballs and footballs that decorated his wallpaper, cool and shadowy. She gave him Mr. Monkey, the well-loved stuffed animal he’d had since his first birthday, and then Mr. Growls. Joey tucked them in next to him. He looked at her longer than usual, straight to her heart. “Know what, Mommy?”

“What?” She studied him, her precious son.

“You’re pretty.” He grinned, his loose tooth hanging a little more crookedly.

Molly felt her heart light up. “Well, thank you, kind sir.”

“Know what else?”

She smiled. These were the fractions of minutes—before he fell asleep—when he said the things that mattered most. When all talk of growly bears and basketball players faded and the deeper places in his soul came to life. She messed her fingers through his hair and smiled. “What?”

“You’re my best friend.” He thought for a second. “You and Daddy, o’ course.”

“Thanks, buddy.” She felt a tug on her heart, the one that reminded her that he was her everything. “How come?”

He put his hand over hers and smiled. “’Cause you play with me. And that’s what best friends do.”

“Well.” Molly kissed him on the cheek this time. “I guess that makes you my best friend, too.” She tickled his stuffed bear. “And that leaves Mr. Growls with Mr. Monkey.”

Joey laughed. “That’s okay. Bears like monkeys.”

She stood and waved good-bye. “See you in an hour.”

He yawned and nodded. “’Kay, Mommy. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

It was two-thirty when she walked down the hall and into the family room. Beth would be home, making sure Jonah was down for a nap. The older kids wouldn’t be back from school yet. No time like now for a phone call. Molly clicked a button on the keypad at the corner of the room. The Steve Wingfield Band came to life, filling their home with the melodious background sounds of “I’ll Be Seeing You.” She smiled. Nothing like big-band slow songs.

She reached for the phone, but her eye caught something on the bottom shelf of the bookcase. It was an old photo album, the one Beth had made for her as a high school graduation present. She’d pulled it out the other day so she could take it to the barbecue at Beth’s house, but she must’ve gotten distracted and forgotten it.

“Photographs and Memories,” the cover read. Molly picked it up and took a seat on the sofa next to the phone. She picked up the receiver and dialed Beth’s number. A busy signal sounded in her ear. Beth didn’t believe in call-waiting. She said every caller deserved her full attention. Molly put the phone on the base again and turned back to the photo album.

She opened the cover. How long had it been since she’d taken a walk through their high school days? Beth had made the album for her. Beth, who was always doing thoughtful things, always so proud to be her little sister. On the inside cover she’d written something in neat, perfect handwriting. It was faded some, but she could still make it out.
Molly . . . I can’t believe you’re graduating. What will I do next year without you? I made you this album so you won’t ever forget the fun we’ve had these last three years. I love you so much. Beth.

They grew up in Orlando, Molly and Beth, the two of them one year apart in school. They ran in different circles—Beth in the social crowd, Molly with the dancers and theater types. But they found common ground on the cheer squad. The first picture was of the two of them the year Beth entered West Ridge High. They had their arms around each other’s necks, silly grins plastered on their faces.

What the photo didn’t show was the reason they were hugging.

Molly squinted at the photo and the years fell away. The picture was taken after homecoming game that fall, hours after one of her worst moments in high school. It was halftime, and the squad had shared a cheer with the opposing team. They were heading back to their locker room to freshen up when all ten of the West Ridge High cheerleaders stopped in their tracks.

There was Molly’s boyfriend of the past year, Connor Aiken, star wide receiver, fully making out with one of the seniors from the dance team. The two were so lost in the moment, neither of them looked up or even noticed the cheerleaders passing by. All of the girls knew Connor belonged to Molly. They whispered and stared and cast pitiful looks in her direction.

Right away Beth was at her side, looping her arm through Molly’s. “The guy’s a jerk. I knew he was a jerk.”

When they had rounded the corner, Molly couldn’t take the humiliation another minute. She was stunned, unable to speak or cry or scream. She dropped her pom-poms and ran around another corner to the bike racks outside the athletic building, the darkest place she could find.

Molly looked at herself, the way she’d been back then. Even now she remembered the pain of that moment. She had loved Connor—at least she thought she did. She figured she’d stay there in the dark, crying her eyes out until the game was over. But she was alone in the darkness for only half a minute.

By the time the tears hit, Beth was by her side. “Molly . . . Oh, Molly, I’m so sorry.” She put her arms around Molly’s neck. “But he
is
a jerk. I always thought so.”

Molly sniffed and peered at her in the darkness. “You did?”

“Yes.” She made a sound that showed her level of disgust. Then she gave Molly a list of Connor’s shortcomings. Ten minutes later she was still talking.

Tenderly, Molly put her hand over Beth’s mouth. “Okay, little sister.” She released a long sigh. “I’m going to be all right—is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m saying you’re the best girl in all the world, Molly.” She pointed an angry finger toward the place where they’d witnessed the kissing scene. “You deserve better than that. And right now I think your life’s just about to get very exciting.” Beth handed Molly her pom-poms. “Come on. Hold your head high. We have a game to finish.”