Chapter Seventeen
Carl was already sleeping when Lynne let them back into the house. Her mother’s face was drawn and pale. Her eyes searched Lucy’s face, but neither of them had much to say. In the end, Lucy gave her mom a quick hug and went back upstairs. She could hear the low murmur of Richard’s voice and then the door shut.
Silence descended over the house and Lucy let out a huge breath. It was still early in Seattle and she desperately needed to talk to Mads.
Lucy woke the next morning feeling wrung out, but resolved. Mads had wanted to hop on the next flight when she heard the story. Lucy knew the feeling. Her head and her emotions were in a dangerous place. She had barely managed to stop Mads from flying to the rescue, but they had agreed on one thing. It was time to do what she had come here to do and get out. She would focus on her list of amends and get it done. She couldn’t even think about her mother or Carl. It was too big for her right now. The possibility of failure jeered at her.
She found Lynne, as per usual, in the kitchen. It was past Carl’s breakfast time, so Lynne was eating her own meal and making one of her neat lists of things to do for the day.
Lucy was almost dizzy with the relief of not having to deal with her father right now.
“Good morning.” Lynne looked up when Lucy entered.
“Lu Lu?” Lynne’s voice wobbled. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Mom.” Lucy managed a fairly convincing smile.
Lynne looked partially relieved, but worry lurked in her faded eyes. “Your father is not himself.” Her mother frowned and picked at the edge of her list with her fingernail. “He would never hurt you if he was. You know that don’t you, Lu Lu?”
“Sure, Mom.” Lucy eased onto one of the stools in front of the counter. Her shoulder was stiff from where she had grabbed the staircase and her knee felt bruised and sore this morning. “But he is getting worse.”
“Only since you came,” Lynne said. She must have realized what she was saying, because her eyes grew huge. “Not that I am saying any of this is your fault.” Lynne leapt to her feet and started pulling things out of the refrigerator. “I know he’s been difficult, but I have never seen him do anything like he did last night.”
Eggs, milk, and cheese hit the counter. Lynne whirled and clattered through her pot collection beneath the counter. “I spoke to Richard and he says he can give your father something that will help him not to get so angry.” Lynne cracked eggs into the pan. “He said that things will be fine if Carl takes his medication.”
“Richard said that?” Lucy wished her mother would stop scraping the metal fork against the bottom of the pan. It was making her teeth ache.
“Not exactly,” Lynne murmured quickly. “But I am sure it will.” The fork kept scraping against the pan as Lynne’s voice grew higher. “And if you were to try to stay away from him, everything will be fine again.”
Lucy opened her mouth to argue.
Lynne grated cheese into the eggs, her hands moving so fast they were almost a blur.
Lucy studied her mother’s face. It was set and determined. “You know there are alternatives?” she said instead.
“I can’t talk about those now.” Lynne’s lips quivered and she pressed them together in a white line. “I don’t even want to think about those.”
“Then what am I doing here, Mom?” Lucy stared at her mother helplessly.
“You’re here for a visit,” Lynne stated with flat determination. “And when you go home, Carl will settle down and we will go back to how we were before.”
“But, Mom,” Lucy said, struggling to find the right words, “you were not happy about things before. You called me and told me that Dad was sick. That’s why I came here.”
“Is it?” Lynne’s eyes were sharp and keen as she looked at Lucy.
“Why else?” Lucy blinked at her mother, absolutely floored.
“Because that is not what people are saying.” Lynne turned away and grabbed a plate from the cupboard.
Lucy could guess what people were saying.
Lynne scraped the contents of the pan onto the plate. She put it in front of Lucy with a fork.
Lucy stared at the eggs, her stomach rebelled, and she took the fork from her mother and laid it beside the plate. “What are they saying?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Lynne put the kettle on. “You know, Lucy”—Lynne didn’t turn around—“when you go back to Seattle, your father and I will still live in this community.”
“Yes, I know.” Lucy started to get a glimmer of where this was going. The smell of the eggs turned her stomach and Lucy pushed the plate away.
“And I know that a whole lot of gossip would upset your father more. He is so very fragile right now.” Lynne made a face and poured water over a tea bag. “I want you to keep that in mind.”
Carl’s grip on her arm had been anything but fragile. Her mother was blithely ignoring the possibility that it could be her next time Carl went over the edge. Okay, she got that her reaction had been extreme and had very little to do with Carl, but Lynne was floating in a cloud of denial right now.
Lynne had moved on to something else and that was what she was gnawing at this morning. There were times, and this was one of them, when Lucy fervently wished they could dispense with the bloody rituals of preparation and Lynne could get to what was on her mind. But that was not her mother’s way and Lucy sat patiently through the preparation of tea. She accepted her mug with thanks and waited.
“I am not saying I believe what people are saying,” Lynne assured her, but she was frowning down at the counter. “But I do think that Richard is awfully protective of you. And the way you ran over there last night will give people lots of fodder for gossip.”
“So, they’re talking about me and Richard?” Lucy felt the old, familiar surge of rebellion.
“What did you expect?” Lynne blinked at her. “You come back, after all this time. Richard and Ashley are separated. People are bound to put two and two together.”
“Mom,” Lucy said, hauling back on the desire to swear at the lot of them, “you know they are reaching the wrong conclusion, right?”
“Of course I do.” Lynne waved her hand through the air, but she sounded a little too fervent.
Doubt gnawed at the edges of Lucy’s mind. It had not occurred to her that her mother might think she was back for the same reasons as Ashley and, apparently, most of Willow Park thought she was back.
“Richard happened to be running past last night.” She didn’t want to explain herself. She wanted to hotly declare her innocence and then rush out and do something to really make them talk. “We needed help and he gave it to us.”
“I know that,” Lynne hastened to assure her, but Lucy was far from convinced. “I am telling you what people are saying and that you should be careful.”
“Okay.” Lucy watched as Lynne started cleaning the pan. Last night and Carl were already swept under the rug, as far as Lynne was concerned. Anger darkened the edges of Lucy’s vision as she stared at the congealing plate of eggs. She wanted to hurl it across the kitchen and storm out. The stool scraped loudly against the floor as she stood. “I think I’ll take a walk.”
“But, Lucy?” Lynne protested from behind her. “You haven’t eaten a thing.”
“I’m not hungry.” Lucy shoved her arms into the sleeves of her coat and hunted for her boots. She had never wanted to yell at her mother more.
“Are you getting sick?”
Lucy yanked open the door. Cold air took some of the burn out of her cheeks. She closed it behind her.