The House on Sugar Plum Lane (14 page)

She studied the familiar handwriting as if she were some kind of forensic expert and it might somehow reveal any significant changes in the man's character, but she couldn't see any difference. Maybe it wasn't so bold, so brusque. But then again, maybe that was a result of the pen he'd used or the desktop at which he'd sat.

A part of her, the part that had been lied to and betrayed, didn't care if Ray ever got out of prison. There were nights when she'd wake up in the wee hours of the morning, having dreamed they were having an angry confrontation. In each one of them, she'd screamed and railed at him until he'd bent his head in remorse. She'd wanted to hurt him as badly as he'd hurt her and the kids.

Even in her sleep, she'd remembered the embarrassment he'd rained down on them, the articles splattered across the front page of the newspaper, the television journalists and cameramen who'd followed her out of the courtroom when she'd testified for the prosecution.

Sara might have been too young to recall any of it, but Danny hadn't been. He'd heard the whispers, the clicking tongues, felt the humiliation and shame.

Yet Maria's maternal side hoped that Ray had really made a big change, that he'd stopped being so self-centered.

Before their last separation, when he'd lived at home, he'd been a good father. But there was more to being a dad than taking the kids to the movies and buying them an occasional candy bar. A man needed to be a good role model, too, which was a level Ray might never be able to rise up to.

So how could she write a letter to the parole board for him, telling them that they should release him so he could be a part of his kids' lives?

Sometimes, when facing a difficult problem, she would go to Ellie and they'd talk about it over tea. Ellie had always known the right thing to say. And whenever they'd prayed together, Ellie's voice had resonated with peace and assurance.

But talking to Ellie wasn't going to help today.

She could go to Captain, though. He seemed to have a parental type of wisdom. So she took the letter out to the front porch, where both Captain and Ellie rested in the shade.

But Ellie's eyes held that all too familiar haze of a woman who wasn't interested in the world around her, and Captain was snoozing.

A noise sounded—metal upon metal—and she spotted Eddie, placing the lawn edger into the back of his pickup.

She couldn't talk to him, of course. Yet as their eyes met, as whatever drew her to him before pulled especially strong, she stepped off the porch and walked toward his truck. She'd mentioned Danny's father to him before. And he'd seemed to understand the effect a parent's incarceration had on a kid.

If the depths of her problems and situation frightened him off, then so be it. Better now than later.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” she asked.

“Not at all.” He glanced at the letter she held, clearly unsure of what she was getting at.

“I told you that my ex-husband is in prison.” When he nodded, she shared what Ray had written, what he'd asked of her.

“Maybe he's sincere about making a change. There's a lot of time for thinking and reflecting when a man is behind bars.”

“Yes, I'm sure you're right. And as far as the kids are concerned, I'd like to believe that he's a new man. But right before his arrest, he stopped by the house, bringing flowers for me and presents for the kids.

“He apologized wholeheartedly, making all kinds of promises. I believed him and let him move back in with us, thinking we would be able to make a new start. But when the police arrived, he asked me to lie and to provide a false alibi for him. I refused to do it, but you can see what kind of man he is.”

“And you think writing a letter on his behalf would be the wrong thing to do?”

“I've been used before, Eddie. And I can't help thinking that if he gets out early, he'll just go back to being a liar and a cheat.”

“Do you still love him?” Eddie's gaze peered deep into her soul, not just seeking the truth, but demanding it.

“No. I stopped loving him right after Sara was born, and even when I decided to reconcile the last time, it was only for the sake of the kids.”

He seemed to think on that for a moment. “So you wouldn't ever want to take him back?”

“Absolutely not.”

Their gazes remained locked, and she could sense herself falling head over heels…. No. Whatever she was feeling couldn't be love; she barely knew him.

“Are you seeing anyone else?” he asked.

Uh-oh. Where was he going with that? What was he really asking?

She ought to clarify things right now, let him know that she didn't plan to ever get involved with another man again. Yet it sounded so…cold. So angry and bitter. And while she might have been at that place once, she'd moved through it.

So she answered honestly. “No, I'm not.”

“This probably isn't the right time, but I was wondering if you'd go out to dinner with me some night.”

A sympathy date?

Or the real thing?

Her senses reeled, her head spun, and her heart melted to the point where she might have to start dog-paddling to stay afloat.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” she said, raking her fingers through her hair.

The intensity in his eyes wasn't letting up. “Why not?”

Because it was the smartest thing to say, the safest choice to make, but that wasn't an answer she could share.

“I really don't know,” she admitted. “I guess it's because I've resigned myself to never getting involved with another man again. I've been through too much to risk doing so again.”

Eddie lifted his hand and softly ran his knuckles along her cheek, sending her pulse ripping through her veins. “I'm sorry to hear that, Maria. You deserve a lot more than what you had with Ray.”

Did she?

With Eddie looking at her like that, she felt herself waffling, giving in. And it was too scary.

“I need to think about it,” she said.

“Take all the time you need.” His hand lowered, then dropped to his side.

She forced herself to break eye contact. Yet she still felt a connection to him and found it hard to turn away. To go back into the house where she belonged.

“I…uh…found someone to sit with Ellie and the younger kids on Saturday,” she added.

“Good.” A grin lit his face and sparked a gleam in his eyes. “I'll come by for you and Danny at nine-thirty so we can get to the ball fields before anyone else shows up. That'll give him and me a chance to warm up.”

By the way he was beaming and her heart was soaring, you'd think that she'd agreed to the date she'd been unable to commit to just moments ago.

“We'll be ready,” she said, knowing they'd be dressed appropriately and prepared to spend an hour or two at the park.

But she wasn't sure that she'd be ready in any other sense of the word.

As Barbara strode across the parking lot toward the entrance of Pacifica General Hospital, her heels crunched on the pavement grit.

Overhead, the sun shined bright and birds chattered in the treetops, suggesting that all was right in the world. She sure hoped so. After nearly two weeks of worry, she was ready for some peace of mind.

As she glanced toward the water fountain that gurgled near the entrance of the lobby, she spotted her daughter-in-law coming toward her.

Cynthia, a petite blonde in her mid-forties, waved as she approached.

If Barbara had been able to handpick a wife for her son, she would have chosen someone more vibrant, more stylish. In fact, nearly twenty years ago, when the two were dating and things appeared to be getting serious, Barbara had tried to talk Joey out of marrying the soft-spoken, unassuming young woman, thinking he could do better. But Joey had refused to listen and had gone on with the wedding.

Barbara had never expected the marriage to last, but she'd been wrong.

In the early days, she'd found several things to criticize about her daughter-in-law's habits: Cynthia's inability to keep a clean house and her refusal to hire someone to do it for her; a lack of style when it came to dressing or in decorating her home. But when Barbara had taken Joey aside to chat with him about her concerns, he'd said, “I won't allow you to talk about my wife like that, Mom.”

It had been the first time Barbara had realized that she'd dropped to a secondary position in her son's life, and she'd been taken aback. She'd also been hurt, but over the years, she'd come to respect Joey for his devotion and loyalty. And more than once she'd wondered if his father would have ever done the same for her.

She wasn't sure that he would have. In spite of her best efforts, the two of them had drifted apart over the years. In fact, they'd never had the closeness that Joey and Cynthia had, which Barbara had attributed to the fact they hadn't had children and were able to spend more time together than a lot of couples.

After greeting her daughter-in-law, Barbara asked, “Have you talked to Joey today?” She'd assumed so.

“Yes, I called him while he was eating breakfast. He's doing about the same. He's also getting tired of being here.”

“I can understand that.” Barbara would give anything to see Joey at home, even if he had to lie in a hospital bed in the guest room and continue to take it easy.

“He's always been so active, so healthy, that this is especially trying for him.”

“I'm sure it is,” Barbara said. “But it's not a walk in the park for the rest of us, either.”

“I know, but I think it's best if we don't complain. I don't want to make it any harder on him than I need to.”

“By the way,” Barbara said, “when they do finally let him out of here, I think the two of you should come and stay at our house. I'll hire round-the-clock nursing, if the doctor thinks it's needed.”

“I think he'd rather be at home. But we can talk about that later. It doesn't look as though they're going to let him out anytime soon.”

Barbara's heart sank. She'd been afraid of that. As long as she thought that the doctors would either discharge him or that they would schedule the surgery at any given moment, she stayed on top of the stress and worry. “So there haven't been any major changes?”

Cynthia slowly shook her head. “Not as of yesterday afternoon.”

The revolving doors spun open, and both women turned to see Pastor Craig walk out. When he recognized Cynthia, he strode right to her and gave her a hug. “How're you holding up?”

She smiled, clearly touched by the man's concern. “I'm hanging in there.”

Barbara wondered what it would be like to have someone in her corner, someone to wrap his arms around her and ask how she was doing through this trying time. Not that Joseph wasn't supportive, especially when it came to their son. It's just that he and Barbara didn't embrace all that much anymore. In fact, they rarely even touched, and she wasn't sure how or when that had all come about.

“I take it you've been inside to see Joe,” Cynthia said. “Or were you here to see someone else?”

“There are a couple of other parishioners here, and I saw them all. Joe was the last one I visited. His spirits are good, and he's waiting to hear the latest lab results.” Craig turned to Barbara and extended his hand. “Hello, Mrs. Davila.”

She greeted him and offered him a smile. “It's nice of you to stop by and see him regularly. I know he really appreciates it.”

“It's the least I can do. Joe's one of my favorite people.” He smiled warmly, then added, “I saw your husband earlier. He was on his way to a meeting and stopped in to bring Joe a book he'd been talking about.”

She returned his smile, surprised that Joseph had managed to slip away during the day for a visit to their son. He'd been incredibly busy with the campaign. At least, that's what he always told her.

The pastor turned to Cynthia. “Elise Rodgers gave birth last night. It's her fourth child and her first son.”

Barbara glanced at Cynthia, wondering if the news hurt. She and Joey had tried for years to have a child, but hadn't had any luck.

If Craig's announcement had struck a painful chord, Cynthia didn't let on. “The baby was early, wasn't it?”

“Three or four weeks, but everything seems to be okay. By the way, Chuck Masterson was also admitted yesterday.”

“Isn't he the nice man who's the janitor at church?”

Craig nodded. “That's him. You might want to keep him in your prayers. He's having some serious health issues.”

“I'll do that.”

In some ways, Cynthia reminded Barbara of her mother. They both had a lot of faith and were quick to pray for others.

Not that Barbara wasn't a believer. She was, but she didn't get carried away with it. She attended church, but usually only on the important days, like Easter and Christmas. It was better that way. No one expected her to serve on any committees, attend Bible studies, or join prayer groups.

To be honest, whenever she'd had anything serious to worry or stress about in the past, she'd asked her mom to pray for her.

Her mom had often suggested they pray together, but Barbara had declined to go that far. She just didn't feel all that close to God.

Once, her mother had implied that she was probably struggling with guilt, which had really set Barbara off. For some reason, as far as her mom had been concerned, all roads led back to that fateful decision to give up the baby.

But Barbara was okay with what she'd done. It had been her only option at the time.

“Maybe you ought to come clean,” her mother had once suggested, but that was the last thing in the world Barbara would do. Besides, she felt as though God knew what she'd done and why. And she figured He was okay with it.

So up until Joey's heart attack, Barbara had stopped asking her mom to pray about anything.

And afterward? When she'd really had need of her mother's prayers the most?

Her mom hadn't been coherent enough to even realize that Joey was ill.

 

Before leaving the townhome that morning, Amy had packed bread and lunch meat for sandwiches, as well as fruit and peanut butter cookies for dessert. So while the girls played a board game on the back porch, she fixed their lunch.

As she laid out the bread on a piece of paper towel she'd placed on the counter, she reached for the low-fat mayonnaise and paused. Callie's friend Rachel was lactose intolerant. Maybe Amy had better make sure Sara didn't have any food allergies or wasn't fussy about the things she ate. So she opened the door, where the girls had spread out their colorful game board.

Eddie was in the backyard, too, working in the rose garden, where the bushes no longer appeared to be wild and dry. Thanks to some regular watering and a bit of pruning, the leaves were brighter and a few buds had begun to open.

“Do you like turkey sandwiches?” Amy asked Sara.

The girl nodded, then reached for her purple playing piece and moved it three spaces.

Amy looked out into the rose garden and called to Eddie. “Would you like a turkey sandwich? I've got plenty.”

“Thanks, but I packed a lunch today.” He clipped one of the blooms, then started toward the porch. “But here, take this with you into the house.” He handed her a rosebud, a dark shade of lavender.

Amy carefully gripped the stem, lifted the blossom to her nose, and took a deep whiff. She imagined Ellie relishing the fragrance of another bloom from the same bush, only on a different day in time. In a way, she supposed it was a memory they both shared. “Thank you, Eddie. It's beautiful.”

“I thought so, too. You don't see many like this, and it smells good, too. The lady who used to live here must have really loved gardening. Do you have a vase you can put it in?”

“I'll find something.”

As Eddie started back to work, and Amy turned to go into the house, Callie pointed to the fence. “Mommy, look! A kitty.”

It was the white-and-calico cat Amy had seen yesterday.

“It's Patches,” Sara said.

Amy glanced at the corner of the porch, where she'd put out food yesterday. The bowl of Kitty Delight was empty and only the saucer of water remained.

“Patches used to be Ellie's cat,” Sara said, “but it ran away after Ellie moved into our house and stopped talking to people.”

Amy hadn't considered how Ellie's tragic transformation from nice neighbor to a woman who'd sunk deep within herself might have affected Maria's children. Or how they might be adapting to having both Ellie and Captain move in with them.

She suspected it had certainly changed the family dynamics.

From inside the house, she heard the doorbell. Thinking she'd better get it, she left the girls to play outside and hurried into the living room to answer.

When she swung open the door, Maria stood on the stoop. “How are the girls doing?”

“Great. I'm fixing their lunch now.”

“The associate minister came by to visit Ellie and Captain. And since Wally went down for an early nap, I thought I'd come over and check on Sara while Pastor Craig is holding down the fort.”

“Come on in.” Amy stepped aside so Maria could enter. “Would you like a sandwich?”

“No, thanks. I already ate.”

Amy led Maria past the stacks of boxes she'd begun to accumulate in the living room and took her into the kitchen. “Have a seat. It'll just take me a minute to get them settled.”

“Speaking of getting settled…” Maria pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “Yesterday, when I told Callie that it was going to be nice having her live next door, she said that she lives in Del Mar. That she's only staying here while her mother packs boxes.”

Amy's steps slowed, and she bit down on her bottom lip. She couldn't lie to Maria any longer. “If you give me a chance to feed the kids, I'll explain.”

“Sure. Do you want me to put on some water for tea?”

“That's probably a good idea.”

Five minutes later, the girls were taking a lunch break outside, and the mothers were sitting at Ellie's kitchen table.

Amy dropped the tea bag into her cup so it could steep in the hot water. “Callie and I aren't actually going to move into this house.”

Confusion splashed across Maria's face. “I don't understand. Barbara said that you signed a lease.”

“I did.” Amy placed her elbows on the table and circled the china cup with her hands, but she didn't pick it up, didn't take a drink. “My mother passed away six months ago from breast cancer.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” Compassion and uncertainty wrestled in Maria's expression.

“It was tough. She wasn't just my mom, she was my best friend.” Amy glanced at tea brewing in her cup. “My mother was adopted when she was a newborn. And before she died, she'd been determined to find her birth mother.” She looked at Maria, who didn't appear to be seeing any connection in her question and in Amy's explanation, but she continued to listen.

“I don't think a child could have had a better home than she did,” Amy added. “My grandparents adored her and provided her with everything a little girl could ever want. But for some reason, she was driven to meet her birth parents and find out why they'd given her up.

“When I got married and had Callie, she seemed to put off the search for a while. And quite frankly, I was glad. I adored my grandparents and couldn't imagine how they'd feel if and when my mom uncovered her roots. I thought it would probably break my grandmother's heart.”

“I can see where she might be hurt,” Maria said, taking a sip from her cup.

Amy finally removed the tea bag and added a dash of sugar. “When my mom was first diagnosed with breast cancer, her compulsion to find her biological family returned, stronger than ever, and she even hired a private investigator to help.”

“Did she find them?”

“No, I don't think so. I'm sure she would have said something to me if she had. The urge to find them was too strong.” Amy pulled the tea bag from her cup. “After she died, I decided to continue the search for her—as a tribute, as a parting gift, I guess.”

“Is
that
why you're here?” Maria asked.

Amy nodded. “While going through her belongings, I found a file with all of her notes regarding the adoption and what she'd uncovered so far. And the search led me here.”

“To Ellie?” Maria asked.

“To Barbara Rucker.”

Maria leaned back in her seat, taken aback by Amy's revelation. “Ellie has shared different things with me in the past, but she never mentioned Barbara giving up a baby. She must have gotten pregnant before she and Joseph married.”

“There are a lot of questions and no one to really answer them for me. But when I found this house and saw that it was for sale or lease, I rented it furnished. And I offered to pack up Ellie's personal effects for the family. I'm not sure what you think about that, but it seemed the best way for me to learn about the family without encroaching on their privacy, especially with Mr. Davila being ill. Introducing myself to Barbara now might be unsettling, and I don't want to cause her any unnecessary stress.”