Things Good Girls Don't Do (26 page)

“And your sash.” Becca handed her the pink, light-up sash that read
BACHELORETTE
across the front.

Katie looked down at herself. “Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

“Nope! Oh, we need our sashes too!” Becca and Steph pulled out two
BRIDESMAID
sashes, and Becca pursed her lips seductively. “What do you think?”

Katie laughed. “I think you are both nuttier than a fruitcake.”

“And now, let’s get this party started!” Steph yelled, throwing her bag on the backseat and starting up the car. “Wait until Jared gets a load of what I bought. He’s going to be one happy man.”

Katie clutched her pink bag to her chest, wondering why she’d bothered buying a sexy purple nightie when there wasn’t anyone around to enjoy it.

Stop thinking about him. You are out and you are going to have fun. Forget about Chase!

T
HE GIRLS HAD
been right. Within minutes of entering the club, a group of guys had started buying their drinks. The guys were all huge, a couple nearly six and a half feet tall, and Katie asked the shortest of the bunch, Dave, “Did you all join a club for tall guys or something?”

The guy laughed. “In a way. We play football for the Boise Grizzlies.” Katie didn’t follow professional football, but it sure explained the mammoth sized muscles on some of the guys.

“So what’s your fiancé like?” he asked.

Her fiancé? Oh right, the veil. “He’s about six foot two, with brown hair and gray eyes. He owns a tattoo parlor and writes comic books for a living.”

“He’s got to be a good guy to get his hands on a girl like you. He’s lucky,” Dave said.

Katie grabbed another shot off the table.
I wish someone had remembered to tell him that.

Steph threw her arm around her shoulders. “Having a good time?”

Katie made sure Dave had walked far enough away before she said, “Yeah, but I’m getting kind of tired.”

Steph pulled out her phone. “It’s only 11:13. Are you sure you want to go?”

Katie nodded, and Steph gave her a big hug. Another pair of arms went around her, and she turned her head to meet Becca’s smile.

“Hey! Group hug!” a deep voice said, and tree-trunk arms wrapped around the three of them, lifting them off the ground.

The girls laughed, and when the big guy put them down, Steph, Becca, and Katie thanked the group for letting them hang out.

Dave said, “Tell that fiancé of yours he better be good to you!”

Katie felt a lump form in her throat and thanked him. As they left the club, Becca asked, “So are you glad you came out? Did it take your mind off stuff?”

“Yeah,” she said. “It was fun.”

For a little while.

C
HASE SAT AT
his mother’s side, watching the pale, thin body that used to be so full of life wince with every breath. She had railed at Buzz for calling him, yelled at him for coming, but when the results had come back that he wasn’t a match for a transplant, she had cried. The doctor had warned them it was unlikely that another donor would come through in time, and Chase had wanted to smash his fist through something.

His mother was dying and he had almost missed saying good-bye.

Buzz had gone to get them coffee, and he watched his mother’s light blue eyes open, bleary and pain-filled. “Chase?”

He reached out to grasp her hands. “Yeah, I’m here.”

She sounded raspy as she said, “I am so sorry, baby. I couldn’t ask you to come. Not after I failed you so badly.”

He had heard her apologize several times, usually when her painkillers kicked in. “It’s okay; you did your best.”

She shook her head. “He left because of me.”

He’d heard this too, several times over the last week, and said, “Mom, it’s okay.”

“It was just once. I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t.”

They’d had seven days to hash out the past, and Chase really didn’t know if he was better off knowing or not. His mother had confessed that she had cheated on his dad and when she wound up pregnant, she didn’t think it was possible that he belonged to the other man. It had been a one-night stand, after they’d had a fight, and when she found out, she had tried to forget about it, pretend it never happened. So she had kept her secret, even as Chase has gotten older and his blue eyes had turned gray, not blue or brown like one of his parents. His father had asked her where those dark gray eyes came from, and she had said her mother, knowing full well it was a lie. Only one person she knew had eyes like that and she didn’t even know his last name. For five years they lived happily as a family, but the doubt had finally been too much for his father and he’d asked for a paternity test. When the results had come back, confirming his worst fear, that Chase wasn’t his, he had confronted Chase’s mother. She’d confessed to her transgression, but despite her heartfelt pleas for forgiveness, his father had left, and never come back.

When he’d been five, Chase was in an accident with his dad, and they had both been taken to the hospital, where his mother had met them. His father, as a way to put his mind at ease, asked the doctor for a paternity test and the doctor had told him solemnly, that based on Chase’s, his mothers and fathers blood types, there was no way he was his son. The child he had raised, built Lego cities with and kicked a soccer ball around with, wasn’t even his.

His father had confronted Chase’s mother that night and she’d confessed to her transgression. Despite her heartfelt pleas, his father had left, and never come back.

His mother had been overcome with guilt and grief. She hadn’t felt like she deserved Chase’s love, and his presence reminded her of her mistakes. So she had shut him out and tried to make things right in her own screwed-up way, looking for a man who would love Chase like a father, even if he wasn’t his.

But she had even failed at that. She had been so self-absorbed, she couldn’t tell him she was sick, couldn’t bear to ask him for anything.

It had taken him a day to absorb what she’d told him, and another for him to come to a decision. He’d already forgiven her. It was his father’s choice to walk out on them. It was a reflection of him, not her. And as to her distancing herself from him, he had forgiven her a long time ago.

But she was so doped up on painkillers she kept saying the same things to him. The same apology over and over, and the pain and anguish she felt hurt him more than the rest of it.

“Shhh. Stop. I forgive you, Mom. Just stop.” She started crying brokenly, and he held her hand tighter. “It wasn’t Dad’s leaving that hurt. It was that I thought you stopped loving me.”

She shook her head and squeezed his hand. “You are the best thing I have ever done. I never stopped loving you.”

Chase brought her hand up, kissed it, and held it against his face. He closed his eyes. His mother’s voice, broken and strained with pain, started singing, “‘You are my sunshine, my only sunshine . . .’”

In a hospital room, filled with the late afternoon light and the sound of his dying mother’s voice, Chase wept for the first time in sixteen years.

Chapter Fifteen

T
HE SERVICE WAS
held two days later, with just a few of his mother’s friends, Buzz, and Chase attending. She had bought a plot for herself and Buzz, which he was a little surprised by, since she had always struggled with money. They buried her in the lush green grass with two white roses lying on top of her coffin.

He really didn’t want to go to the funeral reception, but Buzz insisted. As he sat among a small crowd of people in their later years, he heard stories about his mother. Stories of humor and antics. Stories about how stubborn she was, or that she was the best friend in the world.

And then a short, stooped lady with blue-gray hair sat next to him, a sad smile on her wrinkled face. “Do you remember me?”

He didn’t, not really, and said so. She just smiled a little wider and said, “I’m Mrs. Dowry. I lived next to you for years and would watch you after school while your mother was working.”

He remembered her then, an older woman who always smelled like fresh-baked cookies and cinnamon. “Yeah, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Dowry, how are you?”

Patting his arm, she said, “Oh, I’m okay. Moved to Phoenix to live with my daughter twenty years ago to help her with her babies, and now I’m the one who needs help getting around since I had my hip replaced. These old bones just don’t move like they used to.”

“I’m so sorry, can I get you something?”

She shook her head and handed him an envelope from her purse. “This is for you, but I figure she probably told you everything already?”

“About my dad?” She nodded. “Yes, she told me.”

“Hmph. Always told her she had more looks than brains, the way she behaved, but the girl had her demons. One thing I never doubted, though, was how much she loved you,” Mrs. Dowry said.

His laugh was tinged with bitterness. “Yeah, well, I wish I could say that, but I had my doubts.”

Smiling sadly, she said, “I know you did. I could see it and it broke my heart, but you gotta know she wasn’t being cruel, just dumber than a box of bricks. But she took care of you, got you into that art class, paid for—”

He broke in. “No, my sixth-grade teacher pulled strings to get me into art.”

She shook her head. “No, baby, your teacher called your mother to tell her that she should get you into private lessons because the seventh-grade art teacher had said no. Your mama went down to that school with your sketchbook, and she battled it out with him until he agreed to let you in.”

Chase was speechless. “I didn’t think she knew I could draw.”

“’Course she did,” she said with a snort. “She used to brag about you. Used to tell everyone down at the diner how great you were. Even framed and hung your first signed comic up on the wall.”

“And her boss let her?”

Mrs. Dowry’s mouth dropped open. “Boy, don’t you know anything? Your mama bought that diner nine years ago. Buzz and she own it. They fixed it up and redid the whole look. She really didn’t tell you?”

He shook his head. He remembered his mother borrowing money from him years ago, but she had said it was for her car. She’d paid it back fairly quick, and he hadn’t questioned it. “I never knew.”

She reached out and patted his hand. “You should go have a look-see. I have a feeling you’re gonna be really surprised.”

T
HE NEXT DAY,
Chase took a drive out of town to check out his mother’s diner. He pulled up to the little yellow building and the huge neon sign above and couldn’t take his eyes off it.

Sunshine’s Diner.

He got out and walked inside, staring at the cream walls. There was a wall with rainbow letters that read
COLORING CONTEST,
and below that clusters of crayon-colored suns and rainbows hung cheerily. On the rest of the walls, framed pictures and artwork hung perfectly. There was the framed copy of
Destructo Boy
, with his bold signature across the bottom. There were several more framed pictures of him at Comic Con, and a cheesy one of him holding up
Destructo Boy
with a crazy grin on his face, showcasing his greatest achievement. He moved down the wall and found one of his mother and him on his graduation day, smiling for the camera like they were happy and close. Like they knew each other.

But he had no idea who this woman was. His mother had ignored him, barely cared for him. The woman who had owned this diner had taken pride in her son.

Next to the graduation picture was one of Buzz and her on their wedding day, looking happy and in love in front of a little chapel. His mom had definitely been lucky when she’d found Buzz. He was a good man.

And the last picture on the wall was one of his mom and him when he was a kid, coloring with crayons at the kitchen table. His hair was lighter, in a bowl cut, and he was missing his front teeth. His mother knelt next to him in a waitress uniform, her brown hair poufy, but her eyes were on him and her face was soft, her smile warm.

It was the same look he’d seen on Katie’s face when she looked at him.

“Can I get you something . . . hey, you’re Lorie’s boy.” Chase turned to the round waitress with too much makeup and a happy smile. “Well, don’t that beat all. Oh—” she lost her smile —“I was so sorry about your mama. She was a real good woman and a great boss. Buzz wanted to close down for the funeral, but we all said, ‘Now, Lorie would come back to haunt us if we didn’t stay open to customers.’ So we drew straws to see about who would go and stay.”

Chase was stunned by all of it. He reached out to the woman and gave her a hug. “Thank you.”

She patted his back and offered, “Let me make you a Sunshine breakfast omelet, and afterward you can try a slice of your mama’s blackberry cobbler.”

He sat at the counter. Under the glass top, his mother had scattered pictures he’d sketched as a kid. Dragons, suns, and even pictures of people they knew lay beneath the protective glass. He ran his hand over the counter lovingly and said, “I’d like that.”

K
ATIE WAS WASHING
Kirsten Winter’s hair when she heard Chase’s name.

“I am all for him leaving town. The man is a lowlife, getting into fights and then hurting poor Katie, although I am glad to see her back to normal. I was worried about her for a while there.”

Mrs. Andrews and her friend were sitting in Holly and the other stylist, Danielle’s chairs, just talking to each other like the women around them didn’t exist. Like Katie wasn’t a few feet away, listening to every word.

Mrs. Andrews had come by a few days earlier to apologize for the things she had said, but Katie had taken it with a grain of salt. Most of the women who had started boycotting K.C.’s had only held out a few days before they were rescheduling, and Katie, being the bigger person, had magnanimously made them appointments . . . for a week or so out. By the time they dragged themselves in, their hair was looking a little raggedy. Mrs. Andrews had probably just come back because she wanted the senior discount. Or was it because Chase was gone and she thought Katie was going back to being meek and mild?

Not a chance, of course, but she’d figure that out if she kept pushing her.