“You knew that was going to happen. Mom knew you were going to talk trash about Frankie and you knew she was going to yell at you. It’s over with. Now go unpack your car and move into your old room.”
“You live forty-five minutes away,” Laura complained. “Why the hell am I moving in with her? Ever since Dad died, we haven’t gotten along.”
“No. Ever since Frankie, you haven’t gotten along,” her sister clarified.
“Yeah, funny how that happened at exactly the same time!”
“We had six months with her. You two were as close as ever, if you recall. Frankie is gone now. Maybe it’s time you grew up and gave her a second chance.”
“Grow up? Says the woman who still sleeps in Mickey Mouse pajamas.”
Carla laughed. “How do you even know that?”
Laura sighed. “You’re probably right. I’ll give it one month.”
“And then what? We can’t afford to have someone check in on her daily. She can’t manage on her own. Since the accident—”
“Which he caused,” she interjected.
“Frankie did everything. He cooked, he did laundry, he cleaned the house. He even—”
“Look, I didn’t come here to be a damn maid.”
“Laura…we talked about this. You’re leaving an apartment you could no longer afford. This is a win for you. Mom pays the bills, Mom pays for groceries…you cook and do her laundry.”
“Just because I’ve hit a rough spot doesn’t mean I need to mooch off Mom. This is a temporary arrangement. As soon as I get another book deal, I’m out of here.”
“Of course.”
“You said that too quickly,” she accused.
“I did not. This will give you more time to write.”
Laura wrinkled up her nose. “More time? How do you figure? I’ll be cooking—which I hate—and cleaning and doing the freakin’ laundry!”
“Well…you’re in a mood.”
“That’s because I’m stuck here against my will!”
“Can I help it if I have a family to take care of? A husband? Twins? A job?”
“You’re patronizing me!”
Carla laughed. “Okay, yeah. I guess I am. But you’re overreacting. You just need to give it a chance. It will do you good—both of you—to spend time together.”
“I hate you.”
“Now I know you don’t mean that. You have a good week, a good weekend. I’ll see you next Thursday. I’ll bring pizza or something.”
“I still hate you.”
“I love you, sis.”
“Love you too,” she murmured as she tossed her phone onto the passenger’s seat. She leaned back, staring at the house. She could do this. Carla was right. She and her mother used to be close. She and her mother used to talk. In fact, in those six months after her father had died, they’d talked almost daily.
Then Frankie came into the picture. She honestly didn’t know if she hated him because he was an obnoxious jerk or if she hated him because he was living in her dad’s house, sleeping in her dad’s bed.
“Or both.”
Well, she couldn’t hide in her car forever. She got out, then grabbed a couple of clothes bags. She hadn’t been here in seven years. Who knew what her old bedroom looked like? Frankie probably turned it into a game room or something.
But no. Her old room looked the same. Same bedspread, that’s for sure. That would be the first thing to go. She tossed her bags on the bed, covering some of the hideous roses. She went back out into the hallway and peeked into her sister’s old room. It, too, looked the same. The bathroom between the two rooms was different, though. New tile. New fixtures. She stood in the hallway and surveyed the upstairs. Yes, this might just work. She’d have the second floor to herself. Her parents’ bedroom—now her mother’s—had always been downstairs. Now that her mother could no longer manage the stairs, she’d at least have some privacy up here. Perhaps she could turn her sister’s room into her writing room.
She went back into her own room, pulling open drawers. Everything was completely empty, including the closet. That seemed odd to her. Surely she hadn’t taken everything when she’d left. She pushed apart the drapes that covered the large back window, hoping to get a view of the woods she’d loved as a kid. She frowned. The once familiar view of trees—woods—was gone. A house was there instead. A huge house. A house with a pool, which she could just see a corner of. A tall privacy fence separated her mother’s property from next door. When had that gone up? She’d been so dreading her move here, she hadn’t even noticed it earlier.
But who the hell had bought the woods? Who would tear down those beautiful trees and put in a house and pool?
She hurried back down the stairs, finding her mother in the kitchen, attempting to reach the microwave. A frozen Weight Watchers dinner was on the counter.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?”
“Mom…I’m supposed to cook, remember?”
“Yes, well, Frankie’s been gone six days. How do you think I’ve managed thus far?”
She took the dinner and tossed it back into the freezer but not before she spotted the six or eight additional dinners that were in there.
“You’ve been shopping?”
“I haven’t left the house. Carla got those for me.”
Laura put her hands on her hips. “I know you can get around with the walker, Mom. Why the chair? Or is it just for my benefit?”
“I don’t know what you mean. The walker is difficult. Slow.”
“At least you’re on your feet.” She bent down to eye level. “The doctor said the more you walk, the stronger you’ll become.”
“How would you know what the doctor said?”
“I did come to the hospital,” she reminded her.
Her mother waved her hand in the air. “That was three years ago. That doctor didn’t know what he was talking about. Why, if not for Frankie, I’d practically be an invalid.”
Laura bit her tongue. If not for Frankie, she wouldn’t be in the damn wheelchair to begin with. What was it? He blacked out? Or he swerved to miss a dog? She’d heard both stories. Somehow, she suspected neither was true. Regardless, he’d smashed the car into a tree. He walked away from the crash with nothing more than a few bruises. Her mother? Broken back. Broken pelvis. Broken legs. Broken body.
But…she wasn’t going to go there. Not now. So she took a step away and held up her hands.
“Truce, please. Let me get a few things in from the car, then I’ll see about dinner. Do you have anything here other than these frozen things?”
“There’s a chest freezer out in the garage. I don’t know what’s all in there. Frankie did the cooking. And the shopping.”
And the laundry and the cleaning, Laura added silently. Maybe she’d been too hard on old Frankie. He lived with her mother. He did everything around the house. The man was apparently a saint. Except he wasn’t.
“Oh, who bought the lot next door?”
“Some woman from Dallas. Not friendly in the least. Frankie tried to make friends. Several times he went over there while they were building. She would hardly give him the time of day, he said. Next thing we knew, that huge fence was put up.”
Again, she bit her tongue. Frankie was always rough around the edges. Obnoxious. One of those guys who had been there, done that—only much better. Loud. Laughed at his own stupid jokes. A jerk. Yeah, she’d have probably put up a fence too.
“So how long has she been there?”
“Sometime in December. I remember she had a Christmas party. That house was under construction for more than a year. Constant noise we had to deal with. But from what Frankie was able to get out of her, she won’t live there. A weekend place, she said.”
“I’m going to miss the woods.”
“Why?”
“Why? I used to play in them when I was a kid. I loved to walk there. Dad always said he was going to buy it.”
“Yes, well, your father was going to do a lot of things that he never got around to.”
Laura shook her head. “You’re still so bitter. He’s the one who died, not you.”
“And left me a widow.”
“I’m sure if he had the choice, he’d have rather lived.”
Her mother’s expression softened. “I’m…I’m not over it yet. I miss him every day.”
This time, Laura was unable to keep her thoughts to herself. “Yet a mere six months after he died, Frankie moved into your bedroom. And two months after that, you married the man!”
Her mother stared at her. “Six months is a long time to be alone. I had no one. All my friends had someone. I was always the odd man out. I stopped getting invited to places because…because it was couples and I was no longer a couple. I was lonely.”
There were tears in her mother’s eyes, and Laura cursed herself for being so blunt with her.
“We tried to be here for you, Mom.”
“I know, but it wasn’t the same as having a partner. Someone to do things with. Someone to talk to in the evenings. Someone to share meals with.”
“I’m sorry. I can see your point.” She held her hand up. “Truce, remember. Let me unpack.”