The "What If" Guy (7 page)

I was forced to live in the same town as Henry, and it seemed he’d only seen me at my worst. If I had a good hair day, he was nowhere to be found. When I’d finally pulled out my look-at-my-ass jeans and worn them to work, he hadn’t shown up for any prescription ointments. And, most recently, Henry had jogged past our house as I’d half-walked, half-carried my dad inside after he’d spent the afternoon at Smartie’s, supposedly watching football.

“Come on,” Elliott griped from the doorway. I put on my coat and pulled on a bright yellow beret. “Holly’s kids are waiting in the front yard, and I think Thomas just peed on the bushes.”

“I’m coming.”

I looked at my son, dressed in his wizard costume, and my heart clenched. His lips pulled tight like a wire across his face, and his brow seemed perpetually furrowed these days. When I’d told him that I couldn’t afford a new ski coat for him to wear to school—his navy pea coat had earned some snickers—he accused me of trying to ruin his life. I wanted so badly to make Elliott happy. If I thought that juggling knives would help, I would stock up on bandages and get to it. My throat tightened as I followed him to the door. He was disheartened and disappointed, his faith in me wavering. I’d brought him to this place where none of the other boys liked him, and in his mind, I was letting him flounder.

We left for trick-or-treating, and Elliott eyeballed my hat. “Do you have to wear that?”

“I thought you liked this hat.”

“I liked it in Seattle. But I don’t like it here.”

“What’s the difference?”

“It’s not a very Fairfield hat.” He stomped down the stairs to join Tabitha, who waited on the sidewalk wearing her Dorothy from
The Wizard of Oz
costume, smiling at him. Holly and I suspected a budding romance between them, but every time I mentioned it to El, he groaned and walked away without a word.

“Why does my hat even matter?” I called after him, shutting the door behind me.

Holly walked up and put her arm around my shoulders. “Don’t be too offended. Tabitha informed me that I’m not allowed to walk with her tonight.”

I adjusted my hat. “I wore it at home all the time.”

“Home?”

“I guess I need to think of Fairfield as home again.” I sighed.

“Auto!” Holly’s husband, Cody, joined us. He hugged me while his wife smiled. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks. You’re looking good,” I said. “Fourteen years hasn’t changed you at all.”

He raised his Mariner’s cap, revealing a receding hairline. “I’ve changed some.”

I shook my head. “You two still look like teenagers. And siblings. Freaks. The both of you.”

Cody looked as good as he had in high school—the same blond hair that made Holly and him look more like brother and sister than spouses, the same baseball cap, and the same hoodie sweatshirt pulled over a random T-shirt. He’d gotten a little thicker than he’d once been—hadn’t we all?—yet he wore the same bright smile. He took Holly’s hand, and the two shared a quick squeeze. My heart clenched.

We walked down the sidewalk, following the kids.

“In the city,” I said, “we usually went to Halloween parties. I forgot how cold it is to walk around, trick-or-treating. It would help if people weren’t staring at me.” I cast a frustrated glance at a neighbor who watched me with pointed interest.

“It’s not as bad here as you think. People in town are really glad to have you back. But Doris says that you seem pretty stressed all the time.” Holly nudged me playfully.

“I am. I still don’t know what’s going on with my dad. He’s acting so
old.
He itches all the time and sometimes scratches himself raw. He hardly eats a thing, and when he does, he winds up in the bathroom all night. Elliott is freaked out by how much he shakes, too. I really need to find out what’s wrong with him, but his doctors won’t tell me anything. Neither will my dad.”

Holly’s eyes grew sad. “He’s been hitting the bottle heavy for the past decade. Those first couple of years after you left were rough for him. He lost his license for a while and had to walk everywhere. My mom and dad found him asleep in their front yard one night.”

I cringed at the thought of my father passed out among Mrs. Momsen’s yard gnomes. “Oh, lord, how embarrassing.”

“Ah, we got used to it.” Cody smiled patiently. “We all took turns taking care of Billy. The women kept him fed until he learned how to make a couple things for himself. And Smartie Guire drove him around until he got his license back.”

That familiar guilt gripped my gut again. “I hate to admit it, but when I left, I was sick of taking care of my dad. I didn’t stop to think that he’d become the whole town’s problem.” I waved to a neighbor as she dropped some candy into Elliott’s bag. “Add a broken heart and an unplanned pregnancy, and I just couldn’t come back, not even to check on him. I’d talked so big at school, bragging that I was never coming back here, that I’d become a famous painter, that I’d be the biggest name to ever come out of Fairfield. I wish I could take it all back.”

Cody and Holly exchanged a knowing glance. By the time I’d left town after graduation, my attitude had gotten embarrassingly disrespectful. Hindsight was a real bitch, just like I had been.

Cody snickered and straightened Trevor’s hat. “I remember that. You actually told the ladies in the school office not to hang your picture on the wall with the other graduates because you were going to be bigger than all of us.”

Covering my face, I moaned. “I was such a brat.”

“It’s okay. They put your picture up, anyway.”

“They did? Argh, my senior picture was a real winner.”

“At least you didn’t have yours taken with your boyfriend. Talk about overkill.” Holly raised an eyebrow at Cody.

“I know, right? It’s like screaming, ’Hello. I’m taken.’” I laughed.

“I thought we looked good.” Cody frowned, his blond eyebrows pinched together.

Holly shook her head. “It could have been worse. Kyle Norten had his taken with his trombone.”

“That’s like screaming, ’I’ll never get laid.’” I dug in my pocket for another piece of candy.

The three of us giggled like kids as we crossed the street with the children.

“Mommy?” Tanner called.

“Yes dear?” Holly sang in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“What does
get laid
mean?”

I snorted.

“Nothing honey, go back to your trick-or-treating.” Holly shook with laughter and pointed at herself. “Mother of the year, right here.”

“You’re a great mom,” I said. “Five kids, and one on the way. You run a household and a preschool, care for your kids, and help with the farm. You’re supermom.”

“Whatever,” she chided. “You’re a college-educated single mom, an artist, and a pharmacy clerk. You’re
the supermom.”

I hung my head. “I never got my degree. I worked in a gallery. But as a manager, not an artist.”

“You never finished your degree?” Cody asked in disbelief.

I wrapped my arms around myself. “No. I never went back. When Elliott was old enough to start kindergarten, I enrolled him in a private school that focused primarily on the arts. I put in extra hours to send him there, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t have a career painting, but I worked in a gallery and Elliott was happy.”

“Hmm…” Holly murmured. Cody pecked her on the cheek then chased after Thomas, who was about to urinate in another flower garden.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you try to reconnect with Henry?”

“He had a bright future ahead. He was going to be a college-level art history teacher. He didn’t need a single mom stumbling back into his life. Elliott wasn’t his child, and I’d broken both
of our hearts. I had no right to try to burrow back into his life after what I’d done.” My words weighed heavy with regret.

She gave me a sideways glance. “But you never stopped loving him?”

“No.”

I tried to push thoughts of Henry to the far corners of my mind. Thinking about him made me melancholy. I pulled my coat tighter and plastered on a false smile. “It doesn’t matter anymore. He hates me—that much is clear. He’s probably off on a date right now.”

“Or he’s pining for the beautiful redhead he dated years ago.”

“Yeah, right,” I scoffed. “The redhead who got knocked up by a different guy.”

We walked along, the kids running to each door, begging for candy.

“How’s Elliott doing?” Holly asked. “Tabitha said he was almost in tears on the bus the other day.”

I sucked in a deep breath. “He’s miserable. His grades are nothing like they were in Seattle, and his attitude is becoming unbearable.”

“His grades are suffering? Have you met with his teachers?”

“It’s becoming clear that I need to.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you avoiding it?”

“Because—”

Holly laughed. “Because you’re afraid of running into Henry.”

“Mommy.” Trevor came running toward us. “They gave out the big kind of candy bars here.”

“Fabulous.” Holly held her hand out. “Hand it over.”

Trevor paled and hid his Hershey bar behind his back.

“Run, Trevor. Your mama’s eating for two.” I covered my mouth to hide my giggles.

When her son sprinted in the opposite direction, Holly frowned. “Damn. I really wanted that candy bar.”

I reached into my coat pocket, pulled out a snack-sized bar, and handed it to her. “Here. Feed that baby.”

She tore it open. “Let’s get back to this Henry subject.”

“Let’s not.” I caught Elliott’s eye as he stood on a neighbor’s porch. I smiled, hoping he was happy tonight.

We approached the center of town, where a hot chocolate and caramel apple booth had been set up for the trick-or-treaters. Almost everyone in town walked around wearing coats and costumes. Little kids squealed with delight, running down the hill toward the crowd. Parents followed in groups of two or three, chatting happily.

“They do such a good job every year on the Halloween celebration.” Holly adjusted the baby in the pack on her back, who was sleeping through his first trick-or-treating outing, then pointed at Tanner, who’d tripped on the curb. Cody trotted off to help him up.

We’d almost reached the center of town. Lit jack-o-lanterns lined the sidewalk and Smartie had put out a boom box that played
Monster Mash
on a continual loop. A few adults danced with their kids, while others clapped to the rhythm of the music. It was cheesy to the tenth degree—and absolutely charming.

Elliott stormed up the sidewalk toward us, his wizard robes flapping behind him.

“I want to go home,” he said in a hushed voice.

“What? Why?” I looked around, confused.

“I’m just done,” he muttered, not looking me in the eye.

I glared down the street. “Are those bullies here?”

Let me at the little bastards
.

“No, it’s not that,” Tabitha said, her Dorothy wig crooked on her head. “It’s Billy Cole.”

Behind me, Elliott groaned. “Can we just go home?”

I clutched his arm. “Why? Did you see Grandpa?”

“He’s over there,” Tabitha said, pointing. “By the haystacks.”

My eyes followed her line of sight several yards.

Oh, no
.

My father stood on a hay bale, yelling obscenities out of synch with
Monster Mash
. He held a half-empty beer bottle and a lit cigarette, which came increasingly closer to the stacked bales behind him every time he flailed his arms. My eyes traveled downward, and my stomach sank to my shoes. On the front of his worn old jeans was a wet spot where he’d urinated on himself.

I glanced at Elliott, who had tears brimming in his eyes, then scanned the crowd who gathered around the spectacle. A few people tried to coax my father down, but most simply covered their children’s ears and watched him in disapproval. Some kids about Elliott’s age pointed and snickered.

My cheeks scalded. My fight-or-flight instinct kicked into high gear. If my dad had been in good health, I would have grabbed my son and hit the road for Seattle. But I couldn’t even afford the gas to get there. I had no choice but to stay here and deal with my dad.

Without hesitation, Holly said, “I’ll find Cody.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’ll take care of it.” I knew how to deal with my father and didn’t need Cody’s help. Heaven knew how many holidays my dad had ruined for me while I was growing up. This was nothing new.

I looked at El and tried to smile, despite our humiliation. “Alright, kiddo. I’m gonna take Grandpa home. Once he’s settled in bed, I’ll walk back down and join you for a caramel apple, okay?”

He looked doubtful. “I dunno, Mom”

I touched his chin. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see. Stay with Holly—or Tabitha.”

“Whatever.”

I was really starting to hate the word “whatever.”

I pushed through the crowd, ignoring the stares and whispers.

“Dad?”

My father let loose a string of expletives so offensive that Smartie, who’d been trying to talk him down, flinched.

“Hey, Auto,” Smartie said. “Didn’t mean to over-serve him. I thought he was walkin’ home to go to bed.”

“It’s okay,” I replied. “Dad?”

My father turned around, nearly toppling over, and stared at me as if I were a total stranger, infringing on his sermon on the mount. “Get the hell outta here,” he yelled, waving his cigarette close to my face. “Go take your ssstupid kid trick-or-treatin’, and leave me the hell alone.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself. Would you please get down and let me take you home?”

My dad tipped his head back and burst into maniacal laughter, but stopped when he stumbled backwards. “The lady wantsta take me home, folks.”

My stomach chilled and hardened like a stone. This whole scene reminded me of many Halloweens I’d experienced as a kid. I caught him by his bony arm, but he jerked away with all of the roughness he could muster.

“Getoffme,” he slurred. “I’ll be home later.”

“No. You’re going home now. It’s time to sleep this off.” I glanced over my shoulder at Cody, who wrestled with one of his sons, unaware of the commotion. My father spewed another chorus of curse words. I ignored the heat that crawled up from the collar of my coat.