“Where’ve you been all day?” Papa demanded, yelling above the TV, which was loud enough to rattle the walls, when Jane walked through the door.
Jane gathered her patience. Usually, her grandfather was in bed by now. Their neighbor Herbert came over each weeknight when the store was open to take Otis out and to look in on Papa and make sure he hadn’t had any trouble heating up what she’d made him for dinner.
Tonight, she’d talked to Herbert just as she was closing the store, before she went back to the diner to help Talulah plan her pregnancy reveal, and he’d indicated Papa was set for the night. Why hadn’t her grandfather gone to bed?
Or maybe he had gone to bed and gotten up again. He was sitting in his recliner wearing nothing but his underwear, and what little remained of his hair was sticking up on both sides of his head like a devil’s horns.
“What do you mean?” she asked, keeping her voice calm and level as she dropped her keys on the small table in the entryway. “I was at the store.”
He turned off the TV—a blessed relief as far as Jane was concerned—and dropped the remote on the floor while trying to escape the grip of his recliner, which, like everything else, seemed to be getting harder for him. “What grocery store?” he asked skeptically.
“Vintage by Jane, Papa. It’s not a grocery store. It’s the store I own.”
His scraggly gray eyebrows slammed together as he came tottering toward her. “Since when do you own a goddamn store?”
Here he went with the language again... Jane could already tell this was going to be a rough night. They seemed to be having more of those lately. “Since I opened it more than ten years ago, remember?” she said gently. “You were the one who gave me the seed money.”
“No store is open this late,” he said.
“Some are, but you’re right—mine is not. I stopped by Talulah’s after closing. She’s going to have a baby. We were trying to figure out a clever way to tell her husband and decided on a bottle of wine with a label that reads, ‘I can’t drink this, but you can.’”
He stared at her blankly, giving her the impression she was talking about things that didn’t relate directly to his own life so he couldn’t quite absorb the information.
“Anyway, it’s going to be cute,” she added lamely, remembering all the other ideas they’d considered—scratch-off lottery cards that looked authentic but had “I’m pregnant” under the film, “Mom” and “Dad” T-shirts bearing “established” dates, a cake with an “I’m having a baby” plastic topper. Talulah had said she baked enough cakes and didn’t want to go with the last option. Because she was so busy, the wine seemed easiest and would be something he could either drink or keep as a memento. “Brant will be excited.”
Papa followed her into the kitchen, where she put the small take-home bag she’d brought from the diner in the fridge. “Talulah sent you a slice of her triple fudge cake. She knows how much you like it.”
“Who the fuck is Talulah?” he asked. “And Brant?”
When he said stuff like that, Jane could either laugh or cry. Tonight, she felt more like crying. “Talulah Elway, Papa. My best friend. She’s married to Brant. You know his parents.”
“Derrick and Jeanie?”
She looked up in surprise. “Yes! There you go.”
“I’d like to see them again,” he said. “It’s been ages.”
He used to buy fresh beef from the Elway Ranch once a year, and Nana would take the wrapped meat and stack it in the Deepfreeze. Jane remembered going out to the garage to get certain cuts for her when she was ready to defrost and cook them. But he’d never done anything socially with the Elways, at least not that Jane knew of. She was certain what he missed was his old self and the world he’d been familiar with. It made her heart ache to think of how lost and bewildered he had to feel most of the time, especially during moments like this. “It’s getting late,” she said. “Aren’t you tired?”
“Not too tired to eat cake.”
“Are you sure you should have so much sugar right before bed?”
“I’m not a child!” he snapped.
His occasional belligerence was the most difficult aspect of the dementia—worse than the unfiltered language. “I’m afraid you won’t sleep well if you do.”
“Then I’ll just sleep in.”
“So far, you haven’t been able to do that.” Even dementia hadn’t been able to overcome a lifelong habit of getting up early. He rose at four thirty, regardless of how much rest he’d had the night before. Usually, he went out to work in the yard or putter around in his workshop. Sometimes he sat at his desk in the house, where a stack of mail awaited his attention. He spent hours reading every solicitation he received—insisted she not throw any of his mail away, even the junk mail, until he’d seen it—and loved sending small amounts of money to various charities and political candidates. She guessed it made him feel as though he was getting something done, still working and making a difference in the world, which was important.
When he wasn’t reading mail, he was paying bills. It took him an inordinate amount of time to write out the checks. His hand shook terribly. But he wouldn’t allow her to set up automatic bill payment online. He used a myriad of sticky notes fastened to the metal filing cabinet beside the desk to remind him when he was supposed to pay the hazard insurance or property taxes on the house, life insurance or other obligations—or order new medication, including Ambien, since he was having more and more trouble sleeping. He couldn’t seem to get even a solid four hours anymore, which was why she’d been worried about feeding him Talulah’s chocolate cake right before bed.
“We need to make sure you get enough rest,” she added.
“Who gives a fuck about rest?” he said. “I’m going to die anyway—and with the mess I’m in, the sooner the better.”
Sometimes he made comments like that—comments that indicated he was more self-aware than she realized. “Don’t talk like that,” she murmured.
“I can take care of myself, you know,” he said. “You don’t have to be here.”
“I want to be here. I love you,” she said and that seemed to drain all the bluster out of him.
“You’re such a good girl.” He reached out to pat her shoulder with an oversize hand, scarred and calloused from thirty years of working for the federal government at the Bureau of Reclamation before he retired fifteen years ago, at sixty-five. “You’ve more than made up for all the heartache your father has caused—and I know your nana felt the same.”
Jane turned away so he wouldn’t see the tears gathering in her eyes. “You know what?” she said. “I think you’re right. What the hell—let’s eat the cake.”
“Have you heard?” Ranson asked, the door slamming behind him as he came into the house.
Kurt had his legs propped up on the coffee table while trying to find something on TV that might distract him so he wouldn’t call Jane. He wanted to see her. The weekend lay ahead, and they’d been spending more and more time together the past several months, so it seemed natural.
But after what she’d said at her store two days ago—that there was no one in Coyote Canyon she was interested in—he felt it was futile to continue to hope she might suddenly give him a chance. Apparently, she wasn’t as attracted to him as he was to her, which made it especially hard for him to decide what to do about the genetic contribution she wanted.
At first, he’d been excited to hear her talk about having his baby—that she’d be interested in that—and thought the issue might, with time, resolve itself naturally if they got together. That was why he’d been open to the discussion. He’d seen it as a potential lever he could pull to get closer to her—or make her see him through fresh eyes.
But now... Could he follow through with what he’d said and help her have a baby the way she wanted to?
He’d been wrestling with that question for the past two days. Would it bother him to know he had a child out in the world he had no relationship with?
He thought it might. What made it worse was that he couldn’t see how he and Jane could continue to be friends afterward. If they kept in contact, he’d be part of the child’s life, too, wouldn’t he? And that meant taking on way more responsibility than donating a vial of sperm, even though he wouldn’t truly be part of the family or have any say in how the child was raised.
“Heard what?” he asked his brother. Ranson was younger than he was by eighteen months, but none of them were kids anymore. Brant and Miles were in their thirties, and he and Ranson were right on the cusp. But only Brant was married. Kurt lived with Miles and Ranson in the ranch house where they’d been raised. Their parents had retired and moved to town several years ago, but their mother still came over once a week or every ten days to cook and clean. He knew it was probably more than she should be doing for them now that they were all adults, but she seemed to enjoy it. She wouldn’t stop, regardless, and he wasn’t sad about that. He loved her cooking.
“Brant and Talulah are having a baby,” Ranson announced.
Kurt sat up straight. “How do you know?”
“I just had dinner in town with my buddy Baker, and we stopped by the diner afterward for a piece of cake. Brant was there, and he and Talulah were laughing because he’d just opened a box and found a bottle of wine inside with a label that said, ‘I can’t drink this, but you can.’”
“He randomly opened a box?” Kurt said in confusion. “Or she gave it to him to open?”
“Neither. He thought it was a regular delivery. Supplies or something. She didn’t want him to see it—not yet—which was why she had it shipped to the store. She was going to hide it in the pantry until she was ready for the big reveal, but...”
No wonder Jane had been thinking about babies. Talulah was her best friend. They talked all the time. It was probably hard for her to be stuck taking care of her grandfather while everyone else seemed to be settling down and starting a family. She’d never said so, but he’d bet she was feeling left behind.
Kurt turned off the TV, which hadn’t been holding his interest anyway. “Brant’s wanted a baby ever since they got married.”
“And now he’s getting one,” Ranson said, “which means we’ll soon have a little niece or nephew running around.”
“Does she know what it is yet?”
“You mean whether it’s a boy or girl?” Ranson shook his head. “It’s way too soon for that. She said she’s only about six weeks along.”
“Interesting...” he said.
Ranson gave him a funny look. “Interesting? I tell you there’s going to be a baby born in the family for the first time in nearly thirty years, and that’s what you’ve got to say?”
He could see why Ranson might not find his response entirely appropriate. But he’d been thinking about how this revelation played into the situation with Jane. “I meant to say, ‘That’s cool.’ It’ll be fun to have a little one around.”
“Hell, yeah,” he said. “I can’t wait. I hope it’s a girl. We’ve got enough testosterone in this family already.”
Kurt checked his phone to see if he’d missed any texts, even though he knew he hadn’t—he’d been looking all night—as his brother walked into the kitchen. He heard the fridge open, the clink of one bottle against another and the pop of a cap. Then his brother sauntered back into the living room with a cold beer.
“What are you doing tonight?” Ranson asked.
Kurt had nothing planned. But it wasn’t helping his frame of mind to just sit around. He figured he might as well contact Jane and tell her how he was feeling. Although it wouldn’t be easy to disappoint her, he couldn’t give her what she wanted and then continue to hang out with her occasionally, or even just see her around town, with her belly getting bigger each month with his baby. It’d be too weird.
“I was thinking about going out for a drink,” he said. “Want to go with me?” Maybe Jane would walk down to Hank’s after she closed the store. She often met him there. Then, after they played some pool with his brother, he could sort of ease into the conversation they needed to have while he walked her to her car.
“Sure. Why not?” Ranson said.
Averil hoped she wouldn’t have to see Brant or Talulah tonight. Running into them wasn’t only awkward; it evoked so many difficult emotions—pain, disappointment, regret, envy, even embarrassment at how she’d behaved. She couldn’t seem to reach a place in her life where the past didn’t cut her, so she was nervous about going to Hank’s. It was the most popular bar in town; Brant’s brothers came here quite often. She didn’t need them to make her self-conscious and remind her that she was now an outsider with most of the people she’d once loved and admired. That was why, lately, when she wanted to go out, she went to the bar at the other end of Lincoln Street. Or she drove all the way to Bozeman. There, she didn’t run the risk of seeing anyone she’d grown up with.
Fortunately, on both Friday and Saturday nights, Talulah was at the dessert diner until ten, when she closed, or later if she had a lot of cleanup to do. Since it was only nine, there was nothing to worry about quite yet. If Talulah and Brant stopped by, it wouldn’t be for a while—unless Brant came in with one of his brothers.
“Band’s good tonight,” Jane commented, sitting across from her holding a Moscow mule by the handle.
Hank’s hosted a live band on weekends. It made the place so much livelier than the smaller club Averil had relegated herself to recently. That bar, called Alley Cats, appealed to an older crowd, so she missed hanging out with people her own age. But her life had changed a great deal since she’d blown up so many of her personal relationships. Most days, she felt like an ocean liner steaming across a vast sea with no other ship in sight. She’d been isolated by motherhood and divorce and losing the man she truly loved to her former best friend.
Her response to all that certainly hadn’t helped...
Occasionally, she considered moving away and starting over. She felt beleaguered. But where would she go? Her entire family lived here. And right now she needed them. Sometimes it felt like they were the only friends she had left.
“They are good,” she agreed. So far, the conversation had been stilted. She wasn’t sure why she’d asked Jane to come out for a drink. Jane had grown so close to Talulah that Averil couldn’t help assuming they’d both decided she wasn’t worthy of them—and, in a way, she didn’t blame them. She had been angry and jealous and resentful. She had said and done things she shouldn’t have. But they hadn’t lived her life, didn’t know how difficult the last ten years had been. She’d never dreamed she’d be divorced, with such limited resources, raising a child on her own because her ex was such a selfish, deadbeat dad.
She wouldn’t even have seen Jane tonight if she hadn’t gone to tour the apartment with LaVeryle just as Jane was closing the store. She’d come down the back stairway—the entrance to the apartment was off the alley, where there was also a back entrance to the store—so excited about the possibility of getting her own place that she’d wanted to head to Hank’s and celebrate, and she’d hoped if Jane went with her, it’d be like old times.
But too many things had changed. Jane’s loyalty was one of them. Averil could sense how firmly anchored Jane had become in her friendship with Talulah.
Even that didn’t seem fair. Talulah already had Brant. She didn’t need Jane. Not as much as Averil did.
Averil watched Jane check her phone, something she did often in case her grandfather tried to reach her. “Everything okay?” she asked.
“So far,” Jane replied, setting her cell back on the table. “He should be asleep by now, but the last time I thought he’d be in bed I found him sitting in his recliner in his underwear. So I texted our neighbor to see if he could check.”
“It’s so nice of you to take care of your grandfather. I’d like to think I’d do the same for mine, but the truth is...I’m not sure I could.”
“It’s not easy. Sometimes he acts like a total stranger—an angry stranger. But I don’t see how I can do anything different. Not right now.”
“I remember when he gave you the money so you could open the store...”
Jane smiled fondly. “That’s not all he’s done. He came to everything I did in school, remember? Every time the cheer squad performed for an assembly or a game, or I was nominated for Homecoming royalty, or...or I performed in a flipping spelling bee, he’d be there to support and encourage me. He’d help me with my math homework, since I hated math and Nana wasn’t any good at it. He bought me my first telescope and would spend hours with me outside at night, searching for various stars and teaching me about black holes and the formation of the universe. He paid my college tuition. He restored the Mustang I’m driving.” She threw up her hands. “The list goes on and on. He’s been so integral to my life—the one constant I could count on like the sun coming up each morning. I can’t turn my back on him. I won’t. My father gave me a peek at what my life would’ve been like without Papa.”
Averil cradled her blackberry margarita in her hands. She had a fairly large family and wasn’t likely to face the same challenge. She figured she could be grateful for that, at least. “I hate to sound callous, but...does he even know the difference?”
“Most of the time, yes. Even if it gets to the point where he doesn’t, at least I know I’m doing my best to take care of him. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I felt I was letting him down.” She took another sip of her drink. “But enough about me and my situation. What did you think of the apartment?”
“I love it.”
“Even though it’s small and you won’t have a yard? Where will Mitch play?”
“I’ll take him to the park. And he’ll be at my folks’ a lot. We just won’t be living with them anymore, you know?”
“Can you really afford the rent? You won’t enjoy the apartment if you’re scraping to get by each month.”
“I have to get out on my own again. Having some privacy and peace of mind, and finally feeling as though I’m building my life instead of barely hanging on will make any sacrifice worth it.”
“Then if it means that much, I’d do it, too, if I were you,” Jane said.
Because the apartment was too small for a family and wouldn’t work for an older couple, thanks to the stairs, it was probably the cheapest housing in town. But Averil wanted to feel welcome. When she’d first thought of living above Jane’s store, she’d hoped it would bring the two of them back together, to help her fix what’d gone wrong between them. Now, she wasn’t so sure anything could do that. “You won’t mind if I’m there?”
“Not at all,” Jane said, but she was treating Averil with such careful niceness. That wasn’t how things used to be between them. They’d always been perfectly comfortable and confident with each other.
It was hard not to blame Talulah for this, too. Talulah had become the bane of Averil’s existence.
Locking eyes with Jane, Averil lowered her voice. “I’ll behave,” she said. “If that’s what you’re worried about. I’m...I’m sorry for what I’ve done.”
Jane seemed startled, probably because Averil had never attempted to apologize before. She’d been too angry to put into words the remorse she felt more and more often these days.
“What’s in the past is in the past, Av,” she said. “Let’s just...move forward in a more positive direction.”
Averil nodded, hoping Jane was as sincere as she sounded. Now that she’d finally broached the subject, she might’ve said more. But the door opened, and she saw Kurt and Ranson stride in.
Of course she couldn’t come here even once without running into a reminder of Brant, she thought bitterly.
“What is it?” Jane asked, obviously reacting to the expression on Averil’s face. She twisted around to see for herself. “Kurt,” she said as if Ranson wasn’t even with him.
The Elway brothers noticed them almost immediately, and Kurt drew his brother to their booth. “Hey.”
Jane finished her drink almost in one gulp, as if she needed a little something to bolster her for the next several minutes. “Hi,” she said as she put down the mug.
Averil realized that although Brant’s brothers had to know all about what had transpired between her and Brant, they didn’t seem to care. Certainly, they never said anything to her about their brother. Maybe she was making a bigger deal out of it than she needed to.
Either way, she’d had enough to drink that she was beginning to feel less concerned about all the things she normally worried about.
“Mind if we join you?” Ranson asked.
“Of course not,” Averil said, actually pleased that he’d asked. She was tired of being a pariah. If she was going to move into the apartment above Jane’s store, she should also reconnect with the other single adults in town, stop avoiding so many of them. Coming back to Hank’s was part of that effort. If she let go of her own resentment and embarrassment, maybe others would forget how various situations had developed, and she could get a fresh start without having to leave town.
Kurt glanced at Jane as if he wanted her approval, too. “Maybe we should grab a drink first...”
“No, sit.” Jane slid over. “The waitress will be around in a minute.”
Averil slid over, too, and Kurt, who was closest to her side, sat next to her. “You two interested in playing some pool?” he asked.
“Sure, as soon as you get your drinks,” Averil replied.
Slouching comfortably in the booth, Ranson crossed his legs under the table. “Have you heard the good news?”
“Good news?” Averil echoed.
Jane didn’t seem to know what he was talking about, either. Averil could tell she was perplexed when she looked over at him.
“Talulah’s pregnant,” he announced. “She and Brant are going to have a baby.”
Averil’s good mood evaporated instantly. Brant and Talulah were starting a family?
She’d been secretly hoping they’d separate. Why did everything seem to work out so well for Talulah when she couldn’t catch a single break? Brant would’ve made such a great dad for Mitch.
And it wasn’t just Mitch who’d missed out. She still dreamed about him...
Jane shot her a worried glance before focusing on Ranson. “How do you know?”
Ranson seemed confused by the emphasis Jane had placed on “you.”
“I was at the diner tonight. Brant was so excited he was offering everyone who came in a free slice of cake. So...I don’t think it’s a secret anymore.”
“Oh.” Jane sagged in apparent relief. “She told me she wasn’t going to tell Brant until she visited a doctor and took a blood test. Sounds like she went ahead and told him early.”
“Not on purpose,” Ranson explained. “He opened a box that arrived at the diner—thought it was supplies—and found a bottle of wine with a label that read, ‘I can’t drink this, but you can.’” He grinned. “Clever, huh?”
Jane agreed. But Averil struggled to find the words. She felt as though he’d kicked her in the stomach. It wasn’t just the baby. It was that Jane already knew Talulah was pregnant and hadn’t said anything. Which indicated—pretty clearly—that Talulah meant more to her than she did.
First, Talulah had hurt her brother terribly—and didn’t become the sister-in-law Averil had expected. Then she’d returned to town and married the one man Averil had always admired. And after that, she’d stolen Jane.
Averil felt as though she’d lost so much, and all she’d been trying to do was protect what she had. “That’s...nice,” she managed to say, even though her mouth had gone so dry she could barely speak.
Lines creased Ranson’s forehead. He could tell something was wrong, but it was obvious he had no idea what. “She’s due in November,” he added as if that piece of information might smooth over whatever gaffe he’d made.
“I’m happy for her.” Averil knew she didn’t sound happy at all, but she couldn’t help it. She’d just been feeling better, just been starting to crawl out of the safe place inside her heart and mind where she’d withdrawn the past year.
“Averil...” Jane started to say.
But Averil had to get out of the bar before she broke down. She could already feel the sting of tears. Looking at her watch, she said, “Is it nearly nine thirty already? I’d better get going. It’s past Mitch’s bedtime, and my mom sometimes has trouble getting him to sleep.”
That was entirely untrue. Dinah was better at putting him to bed than she was, because Dinah was a better disciplinarian. That was another thing Averil was struggling with—the fact that she had to compete with her own mom when it came to taking care of her son and always seemed to fall short.
“You’re leaving?” Kurt said in surprise. “I thought...I thought we were going to play pool.”
“The three of you can play.” She slid from the booth as soon as he got out of her way. “Jane, I’ll...call you,” she said and threw twenty bucks on the table to cover her portion of the bill.