Heartache Falls (2 page)

Mentally she reviewed the contents of her fridge and pantry. Yes, she could do a Hollandaise sauce. She had fresh spinach. If she did eggs Florentine, at least the boys would have one serving of a vegetable today. Fresh berries. She could make pigs in a blanket for Caitlin. They were her favorite.

As she approached her kitchen, the aroma drifting in the air gave her warning. Bacon? Someone was already
cooking? Her eyes rounded with surprise. What alternate reality was this?

Ali stepped into the kitchen and halted abruptly. The kitchen table was set with a “Bon Voyage” paper tablecloth. A SpongeBob SquarePants paper centerpiece adorned the center of the table. Paper plates proclaimed “Happy St. Patrick’s Day,” and helium-filled Mylar balloons that read “Over the Hill” had been tied to the back of each of the chairs.

Each of her three grown children turned to look at her, and Ali desperately wished she had a camera. Stephen, looking like a lawyer already with his neatly trimmed hair, freshly shaved face, and button-down shirt. Chase, the outdoorsman, with his three-day beard and longish hair drawn back and tied at the nape of his neck with a leather lace. And Caitlin, blond and beautiful and brimming with life, a typical college coed. Ten minutes ago these young adults had been grade-schoolers riding their bikes on the sidewalk. Where had the years gone?

Familiar impish grins spread across their faces, telling Ali that they were tickled pink that they’d surprised her.
Some things never change, thank goodness
. They’d recognized that this was an important family moment. Something she’d tried too hard to teach them had stuck. Happiness bloomed inside Ali like a springtime flower, and she didn’t try to keep the smile off her face as she said, “Caitlin, did your brothers actually cook for you to mark your special day?”

“Sort of,” Caitlin replied, glancing at the boys. “But not exactly.”

“We are cooking breakfast,” Stephen clarified as he
removed the last piece of bacon from the frying pan and placed it on a paper towel to drain. He was a younger version of Mac, with his father’s dark hair and brown eyes that now sparkled mischievously. “I know it’s shocking, and I’m glad we didn’t give you a heart attack. At your advanced age, I worried about that.”

“Just because you are in law school, young man, doesn’t mean I can’t still send you to your room,” Ali fired back. Her gaze fixed on the table, she asked, “Happy St. Patrick’s Day?”

“We shopped the bargain bin at the party store,” Chase explained. “G’morning, Mom.”

“Good morning, son.” She eyed the activity at the stovetop, counter, and kitchen table. Apparently the menu included bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, orange juice, Ali’s usual yogurt and fruit, and of course Chase’s favorite, Froot Loops. “So, who is going to clue me in? What does Cait mean when she says ‘sorta’?”

Chase opened his mouth, but Caitlin stopped him with an elbow to his side, then pushed the lever on the toaster and gave Stephen, their eldest, a look that said,
Go on
.

“We thought it was important to mark the occasion because today is a special day,” Stephen said as Mac joined the family in the kitchen. Mac placed his hand on Ali’s shoulder while their eldest continued, “The last of your chicks is officially flying from the nest today. It
is
a special day for Caitlin, and that’s why we bought her a princess crown to wear during breakfast. But it’s also a special day for you and Dad. We thought it was an appropriate time for the three
of us to tell you both how much we love you and how much appreciate all you’ve done for us.”

Oh
. Ali brought a hand to her chest.
Wow
.

Stephen nodded toward Chase, then cracked another egg into a bowl. Ali’s middle child flashed his father’s grin, then said, “I’ll keep my part short because I know you, Mom. You’ll start bawling, and we don’t want you dribbling snot into your yogurt.”

“Cha-a-ase!” Caitlin protested as the toast popped up.

“Well, it’s true.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to be gross about it. Are you ever gonna grow up?”

“Probably not.”

Probably not
, Ali silently agreed. Chase had been such a terror, such a daredevil, when he was little. Such a challenge to parent, yet so much fun.

“You are the greatest mom in the world, Mom,” he continued. “You’ve always been there for us, and we always knew we could count on you. I was always proud that you were my mother.”

Ali started blinking. She was moments away from bawling.
My kids know me so well
.

Chase made a sweeping gesture toward Caitlin. Ali’s daughter, now a young, idealistic woman, stepped forward. Lacing her fingers, she spoke with solemn sincerity. “You guys gave us a firm, stable foundation on which to build our hopes and dreams. That’s something few of my friends had. Actually, none of my friends had the great home and family life we have had. I know that makes me a stronger person, and it makes today easier for me.

“Today is my Independence Day, but it’s also your
Freedom Day. Especially for you, Mom.” Then, with a loving smile, sweet, tender-hearted Caitlin shot the arrow through the very center of Ali’s heart. “You’re not a stay-at-home mom anymore.”

Mac’s hand gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze while Ali stood there bleeding.

“So,” Caitlin continued, “the boys and I thought it’d be nice to mark this special day with a special thank-you—a family meal we prepared.”

“Besides,” Chase piped up, “we knew if we didn’t do something first, then you’d go all out and we’d be stuck washing Grandmother’s dishes.”

Ali couldn’t speak past the lump of emotion in her throat. Mac stepped forward and covered for her. “This is a real nice surprise. How long before it’s ready? I’m starved.”

Breakfast was delicious, boisterous, and fun. The kids teased one another as usual, and for just a little while Ali could pretend the old days were back. All too soon, however, breakfast was finished, the paper plates relegated to the trash, and the pots and pans washed and stored away. Mac glanced at the clock. “You girls had better hit the road. Kansas City is a long drive.”

“Don’t remind me,” Caitlin groaned. But excitement shone in her eyes as she hurried upstairs, saying, “I’ll be ready in five, Mom.”

A few minutes later, out beside the car, Mac studied the load and grimaced. “We should have shipped half of this stuff. If you have a flat tire …” He exhaled a heavy sigh and shook his head. Then he gave Ali a long look and said, “Last chance.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“I’ll worry about you being on the road for the next week.”

“I’ll worry that you’ll be eaten by a grizzly bear.”

Caitlin bounded out of the house carrying her purse and a tennis racket that she somehow found space for in the back of Mac’s SUV. She exchanged hugs and more good-natured teasing with her brothers, then her father took her hands. Mac’s voice was a little gruff as he spoke his traditional farewell: “Be careful, kitten. Wear sunscreen. Drink lots of water.”

“
Dad
-dy!”

Mac grinned, then pulled her into his embrace and hugged her hard. “Seriously, though, do be careful. Listen to your instincts. Go to class. Make smart decisions.”

“I will, Daddy.”

He kissed her forehead, then said, “I’m so proud of you, Caitlin. I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Daddy, and I’ll be home for Thanksgiving before you know it. Shoot, with the hours you’ve been working, you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“Finally, something good to come out of all of those hours.” He gave her one more kiss, one more hug, then opened the door for her. “Buckle your seat belt. If you’re driving, don’t talk on the cell phone, and especially don’t text.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes as she slid into her seat. “Good-bye, Daddy.”

“Bye, baby.” He shut the passenger door behind her, then walked around to the driver’s side, where
Ali was fitting the key into the ignition. “Alison, you drive carefully. Call me when you stop for the night.”

“I will.” Ali lifted her face for his quick kiss. “You guys be safe, too, and have a wonderful time. I hope you catch dozens of fish.”

She started the car, and she and her daughter drove off for their grand adventure.

As road trips went, it proved to be one of the most pleasurable Ali had ever experienced. She and Caitlin shared a similar traveling style. They agreed on what music and audiobooks to listen to. They both wanted to stop every two hours, and they liked driving late into the night and sleeping in the next morning—just the opposite of Mac’s preferences. What Ali enjoyed most were the hours on end spent in conversation with her only daughter. They talked about everything under the sun—family, friends, old memories, new dreams, wishes, and desires. Ali knew that she’d remember and treasure for the rest of her life this time spent with Caitlin.

Eventually the conversations ended. The trip ended. Four days after leaving Denver, in a slightly different version of the scene Caitlin had had with her father, Ali told her daughter good-bye in the parking lot outside her dorm. They hugged, they kissed, and they declared their love for each other, but Ali could tell her daughter was distracted. Her suitemates were waiting for her to go shopping for their coordinating bathroom accessories.

Ali made it three whole blocks before she burst into tears. She pulled into a convenience store parking lot and buried her face in her arms against the steering wheel. She cried long, hard tears, pouring out her
sadness and her grief, sobbing out her sadness and her sorrow.

Finally, when she’d drained her tears and used all the tissues in the box, she went into the store and used the facilities, then picked up a new box of tissues and a packaged brownie. For a long moment she eyed the selection of tall-boy beers. Sighing, she chose a Coke instead, paid for her selections, then resumed the long drive home.

An hour into her trip, she tried to call Mac, but of course his phone went to voice mail. Her men were out in the wilds of Alaska, where cell phone coverage wasn’t exactly grizzly-to-grizzly. She tried to call her father, but his phone, too, went to voice mail, and she recalled that he had a golf vacation this week. Charles Cavanaugh didn’t carry a cell phone in his golf bag.

She drove another fifty miles, then dialed one of her friends in Eternity Springs. She had a nice long conversation with Sage Anderson, recently engaged and planning a Christmas wedding. Afterward, Ali tried Mac again.

Silly of her, really. Mac wasn’t there. Mac was rarely there anymore.

“Don’t be snotty,” she scolded herself. Mac had an important job that kept him extremely busy. Hadn’t she known from the very first that this was what she could expect if she shared her life with Mackenzie S. Timberlake?

When she’d met Mac her freshman year at Notre Dame, he’d had a well-defined plan for his future. He’d not deviated from his plan in all the years since—well, except for the surprise they had named Stephen. Following his undergrad years, Mac had
gone to Stanford for law school, then on to private practice at her father’s law firm. While the family connection had landed him the job, he’d earned his partnership all on his own with hard work, a brilliant mind, and excellent instincts. He’d achieved his goal of a federal court judgeship three full years ahead of the timeline he’d outlined to her on their second date. A man didn’t accomplish so much at such a relatively young age without a full share and more of discipline.

Of course, she’d had a plan for her future, too, but the surprise currently attending law school had altered her plan permanently. She’d graduated from college with a degree in business she didn’t want, the dream of culinary school in mothballs because of the baby already on the way. While Mac built his résumé, she’d wiped snotty noses, organized PTA fund-raisers, and spent a good portion of her day in a minivan toting kids from one event to another.

She’d loved it. She might never have fulfilled her own workday dreams, but she’d settled comfortably into her role as a stay-at-home mom, and the entire Timberlake family had thrived.

And, eventually, outgrown her.

That’s okay
, she told herself. It wasn’t like she didn’t have a life of her own separate from the kids. She’d still keep busy. She had her volunteer work. Her classes at the gym. She thoroughly enjoyed her occasional trips up into the mountains to Eternity Springs. She’d find plenty to do to fill the hours now empty of baseball games or debate matches or dance recitals.

Maybe she’d leap headlong into the whole quilting thing. She could join a guild in Denver. Meet a whole new group of friends. Except Ali already had lots of
friends. She didn’t want more friends. She wanted her family.

She was a stay-at-home mom who’d completed her job. Lost her job. A thundercloud of self-pity built in her emotional sky, but she fled from it, tried to outrun it, by lecturing herself aloud. “You haven’t lost your family. They just don’t live with you anymore. In lots of ways, that’s a good thing.”

She’d no longer have sweaty gym socks stinking up the boys’ rooms or a clutter of makeup spread all across the upstairs bathroom vanity. Those were good things. She wouldn’t have to lie awake in bed worrying until her kids made it home by curfew—or not. Another good thing. And one of her friends had told her that the best thing about having an empty nest was that now she and her husband could have sex on the staircase if they wanted. Personally, Ali couldn’t imagine that being too comfortable, but hey, she was willing to try anything once.

“I’ll just put that on the calendar,” she decided, feeling marginally better.

So she’d finished the stay-at-home mom years of her life. Big deal. She hadn’t lost her family. She still had Mac. Maybe they could use this time to reinvigorate their relationship. Enjoy an empty-nest honeymoon of sorts. Spend time and energy on each other instead of the kids. Why, this could be the best time of her life. Of their lives.

Thank goodness she still had Mac.

    “The Desai case?” Mac repeated, one week after his return to work following his Alaskan vacation.
Desai was a high-profile case of attempted domestic terrorism. “I thought that went to Judge Harrison.”