Chapter 52
“Then hit them when they least expect it?”
“You got it.”
She smiled dreamily. “Very smart.”
“And of course I’ll mention that I have a brilliant woman in mind who is trying to disentangle herself from pesky prior commitments to help me in a temporary capacity…”
Candace closed her eyes while her smile died a thousand deaths. So easy. It would be so easy to say yes, go ahead. But she wasn’t sure. Truth be told, she was afraid. Afraid of how fast things were going. Afraid they didn't know each other well enough to be making such a huge step. Afraid because love that burned too brightly in the beginning mostly burned away too quickly.
“Why don’t you call your grandparents, Candace. Level with them. Tell them about me, tell them about the job, tell them about your concerns for them. See what they say.”
She gave the pillow a whack of frustration. “I know what they’ll say.
They’ll tell me to stay here even if they need me, even if my not coming would disappoint them terribly.”
“You might be…surprised.”
She shook her head. That wasn’t the way to go. If only there were someone else who could talk to them, someone they could be completely honest with. Like…Like… The doorbell rang. She kept her voice calm, wished Nolan luck with the interview, then got off the phone and glanced in the mirror, smoothed her hair, tucked in her shirt, then made a face and pulled it out again, re-messed her hair, went downstairs.
Like…her mother.
At the front door, even though the doorbell rang again, she hesitated.
Bless Michelle for warning her, but it might have been kinder to let Candace suffer through the shock than this agony of dread.
One…two…three. She reached for the doorknob at the same time she caught sight of the picture on the foyer wall. Her, Michelle, Andrew, Gran, Grandad…and Mom. Smiling. Embracing. Her family.
On that same beach, she now had pictures of Nolan and herself. If only all of them plus whatever disaster Michelle hooked up with could manage to live life peacefully and constructively close to each other. As a family.
She braced herself and opened the door to the mother she hadn’t seen in four years. Her first impression was that Mom looked the same. Older, but then so was Candace. Her second impression was, as Michelle had said, that her mother looked totally different. Older not only in years, but in peace and maturity, too. Tasteful makeup, and her hair was no longer a dragging mop, but cut short and attractively in a style that flattered her small features.
Her dress was green and pale yellow with small patches of light blue, and it suited her reddish-blond hair and greenish eyes. It suited her person, too— youthful without being ridiculously young, like the stomach-baring jeans she’d worn on the last trip when she was pushing fifty.
Michelle’s eyes, Michelle’s hair, Michelle’s mouth, Candace’s feminine body.
“Hi.”
“Sweetheart. Candace.” Her mother’s eyes filled with tears, but she obviously knew better than to offer a hug. “Michelle told you I was coming. Warned you, I suppose.”
“Yes.” She stood a second longer, then couldn’t stand being so rude and stepped back, gesturing her mother into the house.
Of course the first thing her mother noticed was the picture. She peered at it closely for a while—still too vain for glasses—and tapped on the frame. “Happy times.”
“Mmm.” She wasn’t going to commit one way or the other. That had been a happy time, yes, but mostly because there was so much empty-of-Mom time surrounding it.
“The house looks good. Clean. You must have done that.” She turned suddenly. Candace had forgotten the way she darted and swooped, like a hummingbird. Or a wasp. “Who’s in my old room?”
“Guest room still.”
“Ah, yeah. Okay.” She flew into the living room, stood in the center, seemingly lost in thought. Candace found herself wanting to know what kind of growing-up memories she was reliving, but didn’t want to ask. “I talked to Mom and Dad last night, Candace. We had a long talk. I told them I was coming home to Quinley for a while. They said you’re moving down there in a few days?”
“Yes.” Her voice came out husky and she had to clear her throat. “Yes, I am.”
“Michelle says you have a new boyfriend here, though. A serious one.”
“Yup.” She folded her arms across her chest as if daring her mother to bring up any obvious issues or questions. Candace had enough people to discuss her troubles with.
“Getting straight to the point.” She took a quick step toward Candace. “I know I wasn’t a good mother. But I’d like to make it up to you now.”
“Thanks, but…I don’t really need a mother anymore.”
“Everyone needs a mother.”
“I’m leaving in a few days.”
“Candace…” She reached out a hand, took a deep breath. “I’m starting over. I need your help, yours, Andrew's and Michelle’s. I need you not to judge me for who I was, but who I’m trying to become. Andrew says it's fine. Michelle said she’s trying to start over, too. She and I…I guess we’re similar. Some things you don’t want to pass along to your kids. I don’t worry about her, though. No matter what crap she piles all over herself, she’ll always find a way to crawl out. But you…”
“Me?” Mom wasn’t as worried about sister screwup as she was about her sensible, capable older daughter? It just figured.
“I left you in charge. I made you grow up way too soon. You deserve some childhood now, a time to indulge yourself. You don’t need to spend the rest of your youth taking care of your gran and grandad, Candace.”
“So everyone keeps saying.”
“Not because they don’t need you, though I don’t think they do quite yet.”
She pressed her lips together as if she were amused, but Candace wasn’t in the mood to ask what was so funny. “Then why?”
Tricia stood straight and tall with her arms at her sides, weight evenly distributed, and it occurred to Candace she’d always seen her mom leaning or curving or holding on to someone or something. She looked alone this way…but also stronger. “After I spend time here getting to know my daughters again, I am moving down to Rosehill. Because taking care of my parents is my job, and I think it’s about time I did my job. Your grandparents agree. Don’t you?”