Yesterday's Embers (10 page)

He took a step back. “I’m sorry you feel this way. We can talk about it later, if you like. The kids are waiting in the car….”

Did other people think he’d made a fool of himself at that dance? Certainly, if Mickey had been Kaye, there would have been nothing whatsoever to be ashamed of. But maybe others saw things differently. He gestured weakly toward the driveway, where the Suburban idled. “I need to get going.”

She turned her back on him. “Go, then. Just go.”

Doug wasn’t sure which was more difficult: resisting the urge to haul his daughter out to the car for a good talking-to or resisting the urge to hug Mickey.

M
ickey stared out the window, grasping for something to say. What had happened to the easy banter they’d found so quickly at the reception last night?

Sarah and Sadie chattered away in the backseat of the Suburban, but the silence from the middle seat was deafening. Kayeleigh and Landon got into a punching match shortly after they picked her up, and Doug threatened to make them stay in the car at McDonald’s. Apparently they’d chosen to avoid such a punishment by not speaking, although Mickey suspected it was more than that with Kayeleigh. The girl had avoided her eyes from the minute she’d climbed in the car. She’d gotten the same vibe in the car yesterday. But maybe she was being a typical surly twelve-year-old.

“It’s hotter than I thought today,”
Doug said. He reached for the dashboard controls. “You cool enough?”

“I’m fine, thanks.” She adjusted her seatbelt and crossed her legs.

“I hear this is a good movie. Reviewers are saying it’s even entertaining for parents—adults, I mean.” His Adam’s apple bounced, and he turned and glued his eyes on the highway.

“Yeah, I heard that, too.” She didn’t want to tell him she’d already seen the film with her brothers’ kids in Salina last weekend.

“Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.” She was starving. She’d been trying to drop the five pounds she’d gained over the Christmas holidays, but right now a cheese-burger sounded like just the ticket. If she really cared about making an impression—or losing those extra pounds—she’d opt for a salad.

In the McDonald’s parking lot, she helped Doug get the kids inside and settled at a table.

“Everybody want the usual? Mickey, how about you?”

“I’ll have…oh, make it a salad with Ranch dressing.” She’d make up for it with popcorn and Milk Duds at the movie. “And a Diet Coke, please.”

“You got it. Be right back.” He motioned for Landon. “Come and help me carry stuff, buddy.”

While they waited, the twins doled out the ketchup packets and straws and napkins Kayeleigh had collected from the counter.

“How’s school going, Kayeleigh?”

Not meeting Mickey’s eyes, she gave an abbreviated shrug of her slender shoulders. “Okay, I guess.”

“You sound like you’re ready for summer.”

Another shrug.

Mickey took the hint and quit trying to spark a conversation. Thankfully, Doug and Landon soon appeared with trays piled high. Mickey helped the twins with straws for their drinks.

Doug hadn’t finished the “amen” of his blessing when the first Coke spilled. It was Sadie’s, and she dissolved into tears.

Mickey jumped from her seat and started sopping up the icy mess with her napkin. “It’s okay, Sadie. Nothing to cry about. Come here. Did your shirt get wet?”

She quickly cleared off one of the trays and scooped the spill off the table. The mess was mostly cleaned up when she became aware of Doug watching her. At first she was worried that his expression was disapproval for her usurping his authority.

But his frown quickly turned into a grin. “Nicely done. Thanks.”

“Hey, this is what I do for a living.”

“Well, I didn’t invite you along to clean up our messes.”

She returned his smile. “It’s instinct. I can’t just turn it off when I walk out of the daycare, I guess.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “That’s fine by me. Swab away.”

She laughed, happy a spilled Coke had broken the ice.

But a few minutes later, when they were clearing off the table and getting ready to leave, she picked up a table tent advertising the movie they were planning to see. The illustration on the placard brought a scene from the movie to her memory—a scene of a family of mice losing their mother to a raging forest fire.

Only the week before, her four-year-old nephew had wept on Mickey’s shoulder in the theater. She’d been a little choked up herself. Glancing at the colorful illustration again, she realized why. The scene had made her think of Kaye and Rachel—of how the DeVore kids had lost their mother.

Why hadn’t she thought of this when Doug invited her? This was not a good movie for these kids right now. Or for Doug.

The kids climbed into the Suburban, chattering with excitement over the upcoming movie. Mickey scrambled to think how she could arrange a detour. Doug began to steer the Suburban across town to the mall where the theater was.

Halfway there, she reached to touch his arm.

He looked her way, a question in his eyes.

“Doug, I-I think we need to…change our plans.”

“Our plans? About the movie?”

She nodded, sure her sheepish grin would give her away.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I sort of saw it last week and…well, it hit me at lunch that it might not be the best choice.” She tried to get the point across with her eyes, aware that Kayeleigh and Landon were all ears behind them.

“You’ve seen the movie already?”

She nodded.

“So you’d…rather not see it again?”

“Oh, it’s not that.” Did he think she was that selfish? “I don’t think it would be a very good movie for…for your kids. There’s a—situation with…” She took a deep breath and started again. “You remember Bambi?”

“Bambi’s mother died,” Sarah piped up from the back of the vehicle. “It was sad.”

Doug looked at her. “Oh…”

She nodded.

He shook his head. “I don’t think
I
want to go there. Never mind the kids.”

“What if we went bowling?”

“Bowling?”

“Sure,” she said, suddenly enthused about the idea. She’d bowled on a league team until a couple of years ago. “Do you ever bowl? Starlite Lanes is right behind the theater.”

He shook his head. “Not in a long time.”

Landon leaned as close to the front seat as his seatbelt would allow. “I went one time. For Eric Feldon’s birthday party. It was cool. Let’s go, Dad.”

Doug craned his neck to check the rearview mirror attached to the windshield. “Everybody okay with that? The bowling alley?”

Kayeleigh just shrugged, but the other kids cheered.

“Good call.” Doug held up his right palm for a high five.

Mickey obliged him, feeling oddly proud that she’d come up with what he thought was a good idea. It felt good to think maybe she’d had a little something to do with the gorgeous smile he was wearing right now.

D
oug watched the heavy marbled ball leave Landon’s hand and wobble down the alley. It landed with a thud on the veneered lane, then veered dangerously close to the gutter before curving back on track. In slow motion the ball struck the front bowling pin. One after another, like dominoes, the other pins fell.

“Strike!” Mickey yelled, jumping up and down. “You got a strike, Landon!” You would have thought it was her own throw that felled the pins.

She jumped up and motioned Sadie over. “Your turn, sweetie.”

She put her arms around Sadie, showing her how to hold the ball and walking her through the approach. When it was Doug’s turn again, he dumped his first ball in the gutter inches before it reached the pins and picked up only one pin on the next roll.

Mickey followed him with a strike.

She turned around with a triumphant cheer and swaggered back to her chair to exchange high fives with the kids. Well, with all the kids except Kayeleigh, who sat at the console with her arms crossed.

Doug rolled his eyes. “You didn’t tell me you were a professional bowler.”

She giggled. “And you didn’t tell me you’ve never bowled a game in your life.”

“I’m a little rusty, that’s all.” He made a show of rubbing his hands together. “Wait till I get warmed up a little.”

But by his next turn, he was beginning to think there was a factory defect in the wobbly ball he’d chosen. He inspected the ball, then put it back on the ball return. Rubbing his hands together, the fingers of his right hand met the smooth gold of his wedding band. Remembering Mickey’s pointed look at his left hand last night, he turned away and worked the ring off his finger. He tucked it safely into the pocket of his jeans—along with the twinge of guilt that niggled at him.

Landon threw a spare on his turn. Mickey gave Doug a sidewise grin and pointed to Landon’s score on the overhead. “You’re about to put your dad in last place, buddy. Your turn, Kayeleigh.”

Kayeleigh had been sullen all afternoon. She slouched off the bench and picked up the hot pink ball she’d claimed as hers. She picked off two pins on her second throw.

“Great job, Kayeleigh,” Mickey crowed.

Kayeleigh acted like she hadn’t heard and brushed by Mickey to sprawl on the bench.

Mickey seemed not to notice the slight but came over and sat down beside her, patting her knee. “You’re a natural, girl. Seriously, you’ve got great form.”

It startled him to realize that in some ways Mickey knew his kids better than he did. She somehow managed to offer each of the kids what they needed most, stroking Landon’s ego, cheering the twins on, and trying to coax Kayeleigh out of her funk.

But Kayeleigh shrugged out from under Mickey’s touch and bored a hole in the floor with her eyes.

Doug wasn’t sure which was more difficult: resisting the urge to haul his daughter out to the car for a good talking-to or resisting the urge to hug Mickey for the way she handled Kayeleigh.

He managed to resist both, and by the end of the day, Kayeleigh had lightened up a little and Mickey had made them all laugh. She’d helped him see that they were still a family, and for a few hours Doug had felt
a slender ray of hope. Maybe there would be patches of happiness in his life again someday.

They got back to Clayburn as the sun was setting. The twins were asleep against each other in the back when he pulled up in front of Mickey’s house. He put the Suburban in park. For some odd reason, he was reminded of his courting days with Kaye. Their first date was the summer after their sophomore year in high school. He had a brand-new unrestricted driver’s license and an attitude to go with it. Trying to look cool, he’d pulled in to the Thomases’ driveway and tooted the horn.

Kaye had come out with Harriet tagging close behind, hands on hips. She had informed him in no uncertain terms that there would be no more honking for her daughter. He would come to the door like a gentleman, or he would find some other girl to date. But as far as he was concerned, there
was
no other girl for him. From that day on he’d happily abided by Harriet’s rules, coming to the door for Kaye and walking her to the porch whenever he brought her home. Of course that was only so he could claim a quick kiss before Kaye’s dad came out to play chaperone.

Mickey put a hand on the door handle. “Thanks for the afternoon. It was fun.”

“It was. Thanks for going with us.”

She turned and waved to Landon and Kayeleigh. “Will I see you guys after school tomorrow?”

“Will we, Dad?” Landon asked.

“No, not tomorrow. You’ll go to Grandma’s after school. But probably Tuesday.”

“Tuesday, then,” Mickey said. “Thanks again, Doug.” She climbed out and shut the door behind her.

Doug caught Kayeleigh’s eye in the rearview mirror. “You guys wait here while I walk Miss Mickey to the door. I’ll be right back.”

He had to run to catch up to Mickey.

She jumped when he came up beside her. “Did I leave something in the car?”

“No. Just walking you to the door.”

“You don’t have to do that, Doug.”

“Yes, I do.” He opened his mouth to tell her about Harriet’s edict all those years ago, but thought better of it. That made him remember Harriet’s tirade this morning. Neither would he tell her about that. He wasn’t going to let anything ruin his last few minutes with Mickey. He followed her up the walk. “I may not be much of a bowler, but I am a gentleman.”

She laughed. “That you are.”

“Tell you what…” Thoughts of Harriet’s rumor mill made him hesitate. But no. It had been a wonderful, healing day for him and for the kids, and he wasn’t going to let a bunch of gossips dictate his life. Beaming at Mickey, he issued his challenge. “How about a rematch? Same time, same place, next Sunday?”

“Sunday? Um, I really—” She bit her bottom lip and blew out a breath.

For a minute Doug was afraid she was going to turn him down. But a second later her voice exuded confidence. “Sure, I’d love to. But don’t get your heart set on winning.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m going to practice all week, you know.”

“I don’t think a week is gonna cut it, buddy,” she teased. “I’m pretty good, in case you hadn’t noticed.” And with that she turned her key in the lock and disappeared into the house.

Doug smiled all the way back to the car.

That’s all we are…friends.
She had to keep reminding herself of that.

W
hat do you mean you can’t come? You got a hot date or something?”

Mickey plopped on the sofa in her living room and cradled the phone against one shoulder. “No, Rick, I don’t have a hot date.”

“Well then”—her brother huffed into the phone—“what could possibly be more important than a Valdez Sunday dinner?”

“I’m…going bowling.”

“Bowling? On Sunday? Since when do you bowl on Sunday? You join a league again or something?”

“No. Nothing like that.”

“Well, maybe I can get Angie to call everybody and try to move it to a week from Sunday.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“You’re not going to make a habit of this, I hope?”

“No. Just this once.”

He was silent on his end, waiting, she knew, for an explanation. Finally he said, “Don’t go all Mystery Woman on me here. What gives?”

“Nothing gives, Rick. I’m taking…some kids. From the daycare.” It wasn’t a lie exactly.

“On Sunday? You know, I haven’t seen you at mass forever.”

“I’ll be there next month. I promise. And for dinner, of course.” She’d had no idea her brother would give her the third degree like this. Their monthly family get-togethers were important to her. In fact, she’d almost told Doug no when he asked her to go bowling again. But something about his boyish eagerness hadn’t let her turn him down. She’d had a great time with him and his kids last Sunday, and she was eager for a rematch, in more ways than one.

“Well, okay.” The pout was evident in Rick’s voice. “We’ll miss you.”

“Yeah, right. You’ll just miss that apple pie I was going to bring.”

He laughed. “What? You mean you’re not dropping a pie off on your way to the lanes?”

“Ha! You wish. Tell Angie and the kids hi. How’s she feeling?”

“Fat.”

“Rick!”

“I didn’t say she
was
fat. You asked how she’s feeling. I’m just telling the truth. The doctor says the baby probably won’t come for another week or two.”

“Give her my love. Everybody else, too. And call me the minute you have baby news. I’ll miss you guys.”

She would miss them, too. Maybe she shouldn’t have made plans. Family was important. But she was looking forward to Sunday, too…maybe more than she cared to admit.

“Well, stop by after if you can,” Rick said.

She smiled at the sulkiness in his tone. For a minute she considered calling Doug and canceling. But the minute quickly passed.

“Don’t hold your breath,” she told her brother. “We probably won’t
be done till late. Talk to you later.” She hung up before he could grill her further.

D
oug’s Suburban pulled into Mickey’s drive Sunday afternoon at twelve thirty on the dot, and she ran out to meet him before he could get out of the car. He waved through the windshield and reached across the seat to open the passenger door for her.

He was a gentleman. She had to give him that. He’d stayed and talked to her twice at the daycare when he picked the kids up last week…stayed for half an hour while the kids hung out in the playroom. He was easy to talk to, and he seemed to think the same about her. She could almost see his heart healing as the days went by. And even though it was mostly his kids they talked about, it felt as if she’d made a new friend.

That’s all we are…friends
. She had to keep reminding herself of that.

She crawled into the Suburban and turned in her seat to greet the kids.

The truth was, she slipped too often into imagining what it would be like if she and Doug were dating for real. Of course, he couldn’t possibly see her that way, but she hoped for a day when he might.

Out of nowhere an image of Trevor Ashlock formed in her mind. And a cloud of doubt enveloped her. Was there something wrong with her that she was attracted to the widowers of Clayburn? There was some story or legend about that, wasn’t there? A black widow who latched on to men who’d lost their wives. She shuddered. Even she could see how creepy it sounded.

But she’d been young—barely twenty-five—and still licking her wounds over the breakup with Jon, when she developed a king-size crush on Trevor shortly after he lost his wife. He’d never reciprocated her feelings—probably never even known how she felt about him. It wasn’t
like she’d pursued him. And Trevor was married again now…happily. And with a baby due any day.

And this wasn’t some schoolgirl crush she had on Doug DeVore. She was wise enough to know that it was too soon for him to even consider another relationship. Besides, the feelings she had for Doug were more akin to compassion and sympathy than romantic love. She was merely imagining what the future
might
hold for them. Not like the unhealthy fantasizing she’d done over Trevor. And this friendship went two ways. After all, Doug was the one who’d invited her to go with him to Salina. Not the other way around.

Still, she couldn’t help trying to view Doug through her brothers’ eyes. Would they approve? Tony and Alex maybe. They didn’t dote on her quite as badly as her oldest big brother. Rick would be a tough sell. Especially if she missed any more family dinners because of Doug.

Harley bounced in her car seat.

“Miss Harley gets to come this time, huh?”

Doug shrugged. “Not by choice exactly. Harriet was busy this afternoon. I figured she’d do better at the bowling alley than a movie theater. We’ll see.”

“Oh, she’ll have a blast.” Mickey waved at the other kids, then settled in her seat and buckled her belt.

Landon leaned forward with a wide grin. “Dad says he’s gonna whoop you today. He got a new ball and everything.”

“Landon! Don’t give away my strategies, buddy.”

That only egged the boy on. “Yeah, he borrowed Uncle Brad’s lucky bowling ball and he’s been practicing in the upstairs hall.”

“Hey! Hey!” Doug looked sheepish and gave Landon the evil eye in the rearview mirror. “Come on. You’re killing me here, bud.”

Mickey bit her lip, holding back a smile. “Practicing, huh?”

“Yeah, he ’bout blew a hole in the sheetrock throwing gutter balls.” Landon was on a roll.

She couldn’t hold it in another minute. Her spirits fluttered and took
wing, and all doubts about missing a Valdez get-together went out the window. “Well, this ought to be good.”

W
hen they walked out of the bowling alley a few hours later, Doug’s hangdog face and slumped shoulders told the story. He managed to laugh at the sound thrashing she’d given him. “Okay, maybe you did beat me, but I came in a strong third.”

Mickey hitched Harley up on her hip and feigned a disapproving frown. “It’s pretty pathetic when you have to brag about scoring better than small children to feel good about yourself.”

That left him speechless for a minute. He reached to ruffle Landon’s hair. “You know, if my kids
really
loved me they would have seen to it that I at least came in second.”

“You only beat me by two points, Dad,” Kayeleigh reminded him.

Landon, who’d nabbed second place, ducked out from under Doug’s grasp and gloated. “Yeah, that lucky ball wasn’t so lucky, huh, Dad?”

“No, it wasn’t. And I’m going to have a word with that brother-in-law of mine. Lucky ball indeed,” he muttered under his breath.

Mickey laughed again, and Harley joined in as if the joke was on her. Mickey turned to make sure the twins were behind them. “Hurry up, you two.”

She looked over their heads and caught the reflection in the front window of the bowling alley. The sun’s angle turned the plate glass into a mirror, and the image reflected there made her catch her breath. They looked like a family. The family she’d always wanted. Doug had a kid under each arm, the twins were skipping hand-in-hand behind them, and she—she had a baby in her arms. They were all smiling, looking like they belonged together. It was like a murky video image of her dream come true.

“You okay?”

She looked up to see Doug watching her, waiting for the twins to catch up.

She shook off the fantasy. She had no business entertaining such thoughts.
We’re friends
, she reminded herself again. They’d gone bowling a couple of times. Big deal. She was thinking crazy thoughts.

“Mickey?”

“I’m fine.” Embarrassed, feeling like he’d read her mind, she turned away and made a show of hurrying the twins along.

The drive back to Clayburn was rowdy, but she was grateful for the kids’ noise that prevented her and Doug from having to talk.

When the Dairy Barn came into sight just inside Clayburn’s city limit, Doug gave in to the kids’ pleas for ice cream. “Is that okay with you?” A rhetorical question if ever there was one, since there was no way she was going to disappoint his kids now.

“Sure. We could even take it to my house if you want.” She looked up into the cloudless blue sky. “Take advantage of this gorgeous weather.” The sun was sinking fast, and the sixty-degree temperature would be history by the time they got to her house, but she could make a fire in the pit Rick and Tony had built for her last summer. She felt elated at the prospect of extending the evening.

“Sounds good to me.” Doug nodded. “We’ll get a half gallon to go.”

“Chocolate!” Landon shouted.

Kayeleigh punched his arm. “No way! You always get chocolate. Vanilla, Dad. He always gets to choose.”

“Cut it out, you two.”

Mickey raised her hand, playing referee. “How about we get a quart of each? My treat,” she added quickly.

“Ever the diplomat.” Doug held up a palm for a high five.

She slapped her hand against his, grinning.

Twenty minutes later she and Doug were huddled in Adirondack chairs by the fire, their ice cream dripping down the cones faster than
they could eat it. Out in the yard the kids played a game of tag in the waning spring sunlight.

“It was a fun day,” Mickey said, attempting to rein in her enthusiasm. In truth, it had been one of the happiest days of her life. But she could hardly tell Doug that.