The Friends We Keep (Mischief Bay) (9 page)

“All right,” she said.

The girls flung themselves at her. Andrew leaned in and kissed her.

“Was that so hard?” he asked. “Go have fun. We’ll be home around eight. I promise the girls will be tired and ready for their bath.”

She nodded and watched them leave. She knew she’d been outplayed. Worse, she’d been weak. What she didn’t understand was why it always seemed to come down to surrender or being the bad guy. When was there any middle ground?

* * *

Saturday morning Hayley woke before the alarm. She hadn’t been sleeping well, which wasn’t a surprise. Every second of every day she felt the weight of sadness and loss pressing down on her. She tried to forget, tried to tell herself that Dr. Pearce was wrong, but she couldn’t escape the cold reality of the words.

Another specialist wouldn’t matter. Not here anyway. Unless there was a miracle, she wasn’t going to be able to carry a baby to term. And she was terrified she wasn’t going to find her miracle.

Which left only Switzerland, she thought, as she stepped out of the shower. As she reached for her towel, she was careful to hang on to the counter with her other hand. She got dizzy so easily. It was the blood loss from her last miscarriage. And the one before. The toll the drugs had taken on her system.

She dried off and dressed, careful not to look at herself in the mirror. She knew what she would see. Too many bones sticking out. Unnaturally pale flesh. Shadows under her eyes. A few weeks ago a lady had stopped her at the grocery store. The older woman had squeezed her hand and said she would say a prayer for her recovery. It took her a minute to realize the other woman thought she had cancer.

Nothing that drastic, she thought as she left the bathroom and walked to the kitchen and started the coffeemaker. Except for her body’s stubborn refusal to carry a fetus to term and her stubborn refusal to accept that, she was golden. Cancer would have been a whole lot easier.

While the coffee brewed, she put the blender on the counter and began her morning ritual. Rich coconut milk went in first, followed by a double dose of high-grade protein powder. She added flaxseeds, avocado, blueberries and a few other powders designed to help her body heal, then flipped the switch and waited while the concoction melded into something not the least bit like food.

She glanced at her phone and saw she had a text from Gabby. The other woman was checking in to say hi. Hayley answered her, then put her phone back on the counter.

Rob walked into the kitchen.

“Morning,” he said as he walked to the coffeemaker. “You sleep okay?”

“Uh-huh. You?”

“Like a log.” He poured himself a mug, then took a sip. “You’re going in to work today?”

“Just for a few hours. I’m not staying for any sessions.”

She had a second job helping her sister with Supper’s in the Bag. She went in early and did all the chopping and arranging. Mostly she was paid in dinners, but that was okay. It meant money they didn’t have to spend on groceries. For the past four years, every dollar not necessary for survival had gone into their baby fund. Defying God was neither cheap nor easy.

“You okay?” Rob asked.

She wanted to scream at him. To cry out that no, she wasn’t okay. She was destroyed. She’d trusted Dr. Pearce, had expected her to help. Now the doctor had betrayed her, as had her body. She was alone, desperate, scared. There was only one hope left and it was thousands of miles, not to mention a continent, away.

But she didn’t say any of that. Because she knew that a happy marriage was good for a baby’s well-being. She and Rob had to stay strong. Had to be a family unit.

“I’m all right. It’s hard.”

“I know, babe.” Rob crossed to her and drew her against him.

He was warm and solid, she thought, leaning in to the embrace. Most days she was neither. She seemed to live a half life, waiting for what was really important. Waiting to have her baby.

He’d always supported her, she reminded herself. Even when he hadn’t understood, he’d been there. He hadn’t judged. He’d gotten a second job to help pay for the treatments, he’d gotten her ice chips when the hormone shots had made her so sick she couldn’t eat or drink for days, he’d cleaned up gushes of blood from her miscarriages.

The fact that he didn’t
want
a biological child the way she did wasn’t his fault. He didn’t get it. No matter how many times she tried to explain, he couldn’t possibly know that adoptive parents simply didn’t love their adopted children the same. But she knew. She knew what it was like to be the other. The one who didn’t fit in, physically or emotionally. She knew what it was like to be the decision that was later regretted.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “For all of it. Do you want to talk to someone?”

“Like a psychologist?”

“Uh-huh.”

She looked up at him. Was he insane? That was expensive. Even with their insurance, there would be co-pays. “I’m fine.”

“I worry about you.”

“Don’t. Physically, I feel great. Stronger every day.”

She waited for him to call her on her lies, but he didn’t. Instead he reached for his coffee again.

“I’m telling Russ I’m quitting.”

She poured her protein drink into the tall glass she used. It gave her something to do so she didn’t turn on him and scream.

“Okay,” she said slowly, when what she really meant was
How could you
?

“I’d like us to spend some time together, Hayley. I never see you. We’re both working so much.”

The translation was, they didn’t need the extra money anymore. If there weren’t fertility drugs and IVF and every other thing they’d tried, then they were fine, financially. Not rich, but comfortable. They could get by with them each working just one job.

She thought about the clinic information she’d hidden at the back of the closet. About how she checked flights to Switzerland nearly every day, hoping for a seat sale. That she’d already found a hotel where they were going to stay while she was at the clinic. It was close and cheap—both good because while Rob would only be there for a few days, she would have to stay at least two months.

“I’m working on a car with Russ now,” he continued. “When it’s done, I’m quitting.”

She wanted to tell him he couldn’t, but didn’t. When she had their Switzerland trip arranged, he would understand that he couldn’t give up the extra income. He would support her. But for now, all she said was, “Whatever you think is best.”

“I wish I could believe you mean that.”

She sipped her drink, then looked at him. “You can.”

“I’m not convinced.” He leaned against the counter. “Can we at least talk about adoption?”

“No.”

“A child—”

“I want a baby. Our baby.”

“Hayley, honey, your parents loved you. I saw them with you and they adored you. The problem wasn’t them, it was Morgan.”

“You don’t know what it was like, Rob. We’ve been over this and over this. My parents were great people. They couldn’t help loving their biological daughter more than their adopted one. I get that. I accept it, but I can’t forget it. I want a baby of my own. A baby that is truly us. Only us. Then everything will be fine.”

His expression turned pained. “Hayley,” he began.

“I know. You want me to accept it’s never going to happen.” She glanced at the clock. “I have to go. I’ll see you later.”

He didn’t try to stop her from leaving the room. Fifteen minutes later, she was driving to her sister’s business. Rob’s claims about her sister and her parents weren’t new. Sometimes, she could almost believe him. The problem was, her parents weren’t around to ask anymore. They’d been killed in a car accident nearly five years ago.

All she could go on now was how it had felt growing up—when everything was about Morgan and she was always thought of second. There were a thousand examples—like when she’d won the essay contest for the entire fourth grade. While her parents had said they were proud of her, the celebration dinner had consisted of Morgan’s favorite foods, not hers. Or if they were each given a doll and Morgan broke or damaged hers, Morgan was then given Hayley’s. Because Hayley would understand.

Sometimes she had but sometimes she’d held back tears until she could be alone and cry. Because it had never been fair.

She arrived at Supper’s in the Bag a little before eight. The first customers today were scheduled at ten. Most of the food was delivered relatively prepped. It was amazing what a food-based business could buy these days. Her job was to get everything ready. Put out the day’s menus and the instruction sheets. Chop up the fresh produce that was more delicate, like the tomatoes. Distribute the ingredients to each station and have it all done in two hours.

She unlocked the front door, then locked it behind her. After flipping on lights, she put on an apron and studied the menus for the day.

By nine-thirty, she had six of the eight stations set up. Everything was diced and in place. She heard keys unlocking the door and knew that Morgan had arrived.

“Oh my God, you simply won’t believe it,” Morgan said by way of greeting. “I swear, that husband of mine is a complete idiot. He knows I work every Saturday morning and week after week, he claims he forgets he’s responsible for the kids until I can get home. I just want him put to sleep.”

Hayley kept working. She checked the spice bottles she’d brought out of the industrial-sized pantry. The company bought in bulk, then she poured smaller amounts into restaurant-sized bottles for each station. The same with olive oil, soy sauce and other pantry staples.

“Did Brent think you’d use Cecelia to sit for them?” Hayley asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t stay to listen. I just left. How’s it going?”

“Good.”

Morgan walked over to the unfinished station. “You’re going to get to this, right?”

“I am.”

Because Morgan didn’t believe in doing work herself.

When their parents died, she’d used her half of their small inheritance to buy the franchise. She’d said she wanted something of her own. But when it came to running the business, she hadn’t wanted to do anything with it. She’d hired a manager, but that had been a disaster. The company had lost money steadily until Brent had gone through the books and figured out the woman was stealing from them. He’d told Morgan to either run it herself or sell it. Morgan still complained about that ultimatum.

“The kids are making me crazy, too,” Morgan continued, snatching up a cherry tomato and biting into it. “Amy has reached the whiny stage. Everything is about her. It’s exhausting.”

Hayley and Morgan couldn’t be more physically different. While Hayley was small-boned, blonde and of average height, Morgan was tall, curvy and dark-haired. She had a vibrancy about her. When she walked into a room, she commanded attention. Usually it was just to complain, but still. People knew she was there.

Hayley was eleven months older. All through school, she’d heard the same thing. “Hayley was such a smart girl. So quiet. I had no idea Morgan would be so different.” That was usually followed by a knowing chuckle. Sure, Morgan didn’t get the grades, but she was a pistol. Stubborn, difficult, yet compelling. Morgan had a way of getting everything she wanted. It was a lesson Hayley wished she’d also learned—maybe then she would have a couple of kids of her own. As it was, she had a failing reproductive system and a niece and two nephews.

“Sometimes I wish they’d all just go away,” Morgan admitted. “And leave me in peace.”

“You don’t mean that,” Hayley said, as she put out the spices for the chicken cacciatore station. “You love your family.”

“I do, it’s just something... I don’t know. I guess we all want what we don’t have.” She walked toward the office. “I need to do some paperwork before the idiots arrive. You’ll have the stations set up?”

“I will.”

“Good. It’s nice to know there’s someone I can depend on.”

Chapter Eight

The giggling from upstairs was loud. Amazing, considering there were several layers of wood, drywall and even full rooms between them, Gabby thought. But here she was, in the kitchen, still able to hear the teenagers giggling.

She and her siblings were close enough in age that her mother had had as many as three teenagers at a time in the house. How had she stood it?

“Mom, you’re even more amazing than I’d realized,” she said, as she pulled the cookie sheet out of the oven.

The twins were watching a movie in the family room. Both girls had played hard at camp that morning and were exhausted. A happy state of affairs, Gabby thought. Jasmine and Boomer were both enjoying the Disney retrospective going on, as well. Makayla was up in her room with a couple of girlfriends. Gabby was caught up with laundry, she’d gone for a walk that morning and had yet to eat a cookie. All in all, it had been a spectacular day.

Now she put two peanut butter cookies onto a plate and took it in to the twins.

The girls thanked her, as did Boomer. He thumped his tail enthusiastically.

“Please don’t give him too much,” she told the girls.

She filled another plate and headed up the stairs. As a rule, teenage hunger seemed to grow in direct proportion to the fun they were having. Based on what she’d been hearing, Makayla and her friends had to be starving.

But as she approached the closed door, she realized there wasn’t any sound at all. It was as if everyone had left. But wouldn’t she have heard them go? They usually called out that they were leaving, plus just a few minutes ago, she’d heard the laughing.

“You girls must be starving,” she said as she opened the door.

Only there weren’t the three girls she’d let into the house two hours ago. There was only Makayla and Boyd. Sitting on her bed. Kissing.

They immediately jumped apart. Boyd stood and took several steps back. Makayla rose and got between Gabby and the boy.

“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you knock?”

This wasn’t happening, Gabby told herself. It couldn’t be.

“When did you get here?” she asked Boyd, trying to appear calm. “I didn’t see you come in.”

Nor had she heard the other girls leave, she thought again. Had they snuck him in and then disappeared?

“What’s going on?” she demanded.

“Nothing.” Makayla’s voice was defiant. She glared at Gabby. “This is my room.”

“Yeah, I know that. And you know the rules. No boys in your room. Boyd, you need to go home now.”

He nodded and walked past Makayla without saying anything.

“You ruin everything,” Makayla yelled at her.
“Everything.”

“Then my day is complete. No boys in your room. Are we clear?”

Makayla nodded sullenly.

Gabby thought about adding she would be talking to Andrew later, but wasn’t sure that was much of a threat. Still, she had to say something.

“No friends over for the rest of the week.”

Makayla rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll just go there.”

To which Gabby couldn’t say anything because she wasn’t allowed to ground Makayla on her own. Andrew had made that very clear. Because Makayla was
his
daughter, not theirs. Not that she was allowed to say that, either. Talk about a one-way road to disaster.

So no grounding, but she could withhold cookies, she told herself. A small, petty act, but it was all she had. She carried the plate back out and headed down the stairs.

A boy in her room. That was bad. Makayla was a beautiful fifteen-year-old girl. Maybe hormones weren’t ruling life yet, but they were making a run at it.

Once back in her kitchen, she told herself she was overreacting. That everything was fine. The trick was making herself believe it.

* * *

“Are you sure?” Andrew asked a few hours later, when Gabby told him what she’d seen. “They couldn’t have been kissing. Boyd isn’t that kind of guy.”

“I know what I saw. He’s sixteen and they’re all that kind. Don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, but that was different. Boyd’s kind of geeky.”

“I’m sure he has a working penis.”

They were in their bedroom. She’d waited until everyone had gone to bed to fill him in on what had happened.

“They were kissing, Andrew. This is serious. Not only did she break the rules, for which she should be punished, but we need to talk to her. Candace isn’t going to. Makayla has no idea what she’s getting into.”

Andrew finished brushing his teeth. He rinsed out his mouth, then straightened. “Gabby, you’re a doll to worry, but trust me. Nothing is going on. Kids these days don’t date. They travel in packs.”

“They still have sex.”

He shook his head. “I’ll talk to her.” She started to speak, but he held up his hand. “And I’ll make sure she’s punished for having a boy in her room. What seems fair? The weekend without her phone?”

Gabby nodded. “That seems okay.”

He moved toward her. “They’re just kids,” he said as he reached for her. “They have no idea what they’re doing. I, on the other hand, know exactly what you like.”

She leaned into him. Even as she kissed him back, a whiny little voice in her head said this was a bigger deal than he was acknowledging and while she was easy to distract, that didn’t mean the problem was going away.

* * *

The Pacific Ocean Park—otherwise known as the POP—had started life in Santa Monica. The pier, little shops and restaurants had eventually lost favor with residents and tourists. Years ago, the POP had been torn down and discarded. Several citizens in Mischief Bay had gotten together to pick up the pieces and move the whole thing a few miles south. Now it was a bustling tourist attraction and a place for locals to hang out. The very heart of the POP was a beautifully restored carousel.

Nicole stood with Gabby by the wooden horses, watching her son and Gabby’s girls go round and round.

“I think it’s a big deal,” Gabby said, her gaze on her daughters.

“Of course it is.” Nicole grimaced. “Back in high school I knew a girl who got pregnant in the tenth grade. In her senior picture, she was holding a toddler. Talk about a nightmare.”

“There’s a scary thought.” Gabby pressed her lips together. “I really don’t like this. The worry, the lack of control. Makayla needs more structure in her life. More rules. Andrew is still acting like he only has her on weekends, but that’s not the case. We’re full-time parents to her and we need to act like it. Plus, what about the twins? They look up to her and want to be just like her. I do not want them learning to get pregnant while they’re still in high school.”

Nicole heard the worry and frustration in her friend’s voice. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have to raise someone else’s kid, yet not be given any authority. Or very little. Talk about having to do it with both hands tied behind your back. Gabby was in an impossible situation.

“Can you talk to her?” she asked.

“Not really. Makayla and I aren’t enemies, but we’re not friends, either. She resents me. Or something. I honestly have no idea what she thinks of me. We rarely talk. I’ve tried, but she shuts me out.”

“You think it’s about her mom?”

“Maybe. If she likes me, she’s being disloyal. She’s good with the twins, which I appreciate. Maybe that’s enough.”

“Not if she’s having sex,” Nicole pointed out.

“Tell me about it.” Gabby shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s too depressing. But I appreciate you listening.”

“Think about going back to work instead,” Nicole said with a smile. “That will make you happy.”

“It does. To be back in the professional world. I can’t wait.” She looked at Nicole. “Was it hard for you to go back to work?”

“A little. Tyler was younger than the twins and in day care for part of the time. I didn’t like that. But it was still good to get out. Of course I had a job waiting for me, so I didn’t have to deal with the transition you’re having.”

Nicole had gone back to work because she and Eric had needed the money. Gabby was working because she wanted to. Nicole had no idea how much Andrew made in a year, but based on their nice cars and the big house, it was plenty.

She couldn’t begin to imagine what it would have been like to grow up with financial security. She’d been the only child of a single mom who’d wanted nothing more than for her to be famous. There had been dance lessons and voice lessons and auditions. Money had been tight and schooling had come second to her dancing and acting.

The irony of her current financial situation didn’t escape her.

“What?” Gabby asked. “You have the strangest expression.”

“I’m just thinking.”

The carousel stopped but all three kids stayed on. Gabby and Nicole had bought them each three rides and they would be lucky if they only wanted to stay on that long. Lately, every time they came to the POP, Tyler said he was getting too old to ride the horses, yet he continued to do it happily. Nicole knew the day would come when he would actually mean it. While it would be yet another sign he was growing up, she knew she would miss the little boy things they’d done together.

Things Eric missed every day.

She drew in a breath. “Eric bailed on Tyler again. I don’t think they’ve had a day together in six months. It makes me crazy.”

“I’m sorry. What does Tyler think?”

Nicole looked at her friend. “That’s the worst of it. I don’t think he cares anymore. Dad is just a concept, not a person. He doesn’t miss him because there’s nothing to miss. I keep thinking that Eric is going to wake up to the fact that he’s losing the one thing that can’t be recovered. Time. I worry that he genuinely doesn’t care. Then I wonder if it’s my fault.”

“How could it be your fault? Eric’s his father.”

“I know. It’s just that Tyler and I are so close and maybe Eric feels shut out.”

“No. Tyler is his son. He’s responsible for his own relationship with him.”

“I guess.” Nicole bit her lower lip. “Sometimes I worry that I feel guilty about the divorce.”

“Guilty in what way?”

“That I didn’t suffer enough. Eric left and that was bad, but financially things are better. I have the house and Tyler. Our lives are great.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“So many women have a hard time after a divorce.”

Gabby drew her brows together. “You think you should be in more emotional and financial pain and because you’re not, you’re a bad person?”

“Okay, when you put it like that, I sound like an idiot.”

“You kind of are,” Gabby said gently. “Nicole, divorce is hard, no matter what. You and Tyler have made a great adjustment. Be grateful, don’t beat yourself up. Not that you’ll listen. You do have an interesting set of rules about things. Remember buying your new car?”

Nicole winced. When her car had coughed its last breath, she’d been forced to buy a new one. She’d agonized for weeks, driving everyone crazy. It wasn’t that she didn’t have the money, it was that she felt she didn’t deserve a new car. Her friends had finally insisted on an intervention. Armed with statistics and safety reports, they narrowed her choices down to three, then Rob and Andrew had taken her car shopping.

“Okay, I might have some issues,” she admitted, then confessed, “Shannon says I’m stuck.”

“Shannon is right. You are. You aren’t pining for Eric, but you’re not moving forward, either.”

“She told you about Jairus?”

Gabby stared at her. “What about Jairus? OMG, something happened, didn’t it?”

“OMG?”

“I live with a fifteen-year-old and don’t change the subject. You said it was no big deal. You said he was surprisingly nice and good with the kids. There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Maybe. Yes. I don’t know.”

Gabby laughed. “You liked him. I can’t believe it. You who hate all things B the D liked the guy who created him.”

“I didn’t
like
him.”

“You’re acting like you’re sixteen and pretending not to notice the football quarterback standing right beside you. Tell me what happened. Everything. Start from the very beginning. You said hi and he said hi and...”

Nicole groaned. “He thought I was a hooker.”

“What?”

Nicole told her about the first meeting with Jairus and how he’d asked her out.

“One of the counselors told him where I worked and he showed up after the class you came to. Shannon was there. She went outside so we could talk, but she didn’t leave until he did.”

“That’s just like Shannon. So where does the stuck part come in?”

“He asked me out again and I said no. Shannon thinks I’m avoiding relationships.”

“She’s right. You’ve been separated for well over a year and divorced for months and months. Don’t you want to stick your toe in the water, so to speak? Don’t you miss having a man in your life? Not just for sex, although that can be great, but to have someone who cares about you. Someone who is more than a friend?”

Nicole laughed. “Why don’t you tell me what you really think?”

Gabby’s expression turned stricken. “Was that too much? Was I too blunt?”

“No. You were exactly right. I appreciate the honesty.” It stung a little, but she knew Gabby had her best interest at heart. Just as important, she was telling the truth. There were things Nicole
did
miss about being in a relationship, but whenever she thought about dating, she had a million reasons not to try.

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “I had no idea things were so bad with Eric. I mean I knew there were problems, but not that we were headed for a divorce. After he left, I had a lot of time to think about all the things I’d done wrong. I don’t want to mess up again.”

“So it’s better not to try?”

“It’s safer.”

“But the best things in life aren’t safe. What moves us, what we want the most, always means taking a risk. Isn’t that what makes things worthwhile?”

“You’re so logical.”

Gabby smiled. “I wish. What I do know is that you have to make decisions from a position of strength. And that means understanding your motives. If you’re not dating because you’re perfectly happy on your own and can’t see what value a man would bring to the mix, then great. But if you’re hiding, then you need think about that. You’re a positive person who takes charge. Hiding isn’t like you.”