Chapter 3
Aneka
“What are you doingout there in the sticks?”
Naomi’s upturned nose and disgusted frown filled the screen on my tablet. I raised a brow of disapproval. She might be twenty, but she was still my daughter. I didn’t like her tone.
“I’m from these sticks. And you used to love coming to Bliss when you were little,” I reminded her.
In its heyday, Bliss was home to a bustling dairy farm and production facility, owned by the family who gave its name to the company, the town, and several local landmarks. Then, around the time I had the twins, the Bliss descendants sold the dairy to a national conglomerate that moved operations to Dallas. The new outfit kept some locally pastured cattle and converted the old milk house into a dairy store and ice cream parlor, more for nostalgic marketing than anything else. From what I’d heard, the old store almost closed.
Naomi wasn’t alone in thinking Bliss had nothing to offer. Over the past couple of decades, few young people wanted to live here—not even the Blisses. They divvied up the old farm and sold most of it.
Of course, things were turning around now, but before I could contemplate all that, my daughter grumbled at me from her well-styled apartment in D.C. where her brother had joined her for the summer.
“I loved Grandma and Grandpa’s house because they had presents and a big yard. My standards were low. You should take a trip somewhere. Go see your soror in London. Visit Aunt Tommy and Aunt Gwendolyn before they head to Portugal next month to scout vacation homes. Or you could go with them. Or...come to D.C. to see Jeremy and me and then go to Portugal.”
Thomasina, aka Tommy, was my mother’s sister, and Gwendolyn was her long-time partner whom my mother still referred to as “Aunt Tommy’s special friend.” Even Dad started referring to them as each other’s wives, once gay marriage was legal, despite their continued non-marriage. He liked things formally categorized. Aunt Tommy did not.
“Suddenly, I’m supposed to let the government define my relationship after decades of them telling me what I couldn’t do and be? No, thank you,” she said.
She was independent like that, but Aunt Gwendolyn was wearing her down with practical considerations like the house they co-owned and the specter of Mom being the one to make her medical decisions.
“Why do I feel like you’re trying to get me out of the country?” I asked Naomi.
“The news.” She sighed and shielded her eyes from the camera for a minute with her fingers. “All the stuff about Dad is buzzing here. It has to be worse in Houston. Lord only knows how they’re buzzing in Bliss. Everybody’s up in each other’s business there.”
I answered her with a short laugh, knowing she was right. “It’s my home. I have friends here. I’ve spent one night in the house, and I already have a clearer head.”
That was also right. The rhythm of the rain lulled me to sleep, and this morning, I walked into the fresh green yard with Mom’s day lilies blooming and felt renewed. I didn’t need to escape the continent. I needed to move forward. Once Elijah signed the papers, I could sell the Houston house and pick where I wanted to live.
I hadn’t told the kids, but I was leaning toward Bliss. Now was the perfect time to explore my options.
Naomi snapped to attention with a grimace. “But it’s so...small. There’s nothing to do. I can’t imagine living there.”
“There’s plenty to do for me. And you’re grown. You don’t have to live here.”
“But where am I going to come home to?” she asked, her voice growing childlike.
Even with how bossy and driven she was, my daughter fell back into kid mode sometimes. My chest tightened, softening my tone. I missed little girl Naomi.
“It’s a lot of change. I know. Having this place to come back to is wonderful, and you and Jeremy won’t have that same feeling. I’m sorry,” I said.
More than she’d ever know. But not enough to stay in the house Elijah and I shared. Emotionally or financially, that didn’t work. She and I both had to grow up and leave the nest.
My apology hung in the air, and Naomi bit her lip.
“You shouldn’t have to apologize.”
“But I am sorry. Things haven’t gone the way any of us expected, but we can seize the opportunity to start fresh. I’m excited. Plus, you’ll always have a home wherever I am. You know that, right?” The urgency in my voice made me feel even guiltier. She wasn’t responsible for making me feel better. Yet I wanted her to say it was okay. I may have failed at marriage, but I could still be her mother.
I snatched myself up mentally again. Your marriage wasn’t a failure because it ended.
“I know. And I like Bliss. In small doses. You can always get a condo or something in Houston. You know you’ll miss the shopping,” she charged with a soft laugh.
I snickered, knowing I wouldn’t. If I craved high-end shops, Dallas was close enough. “You just want a crash pad when you come home to party with your friends. Take those raggedy kids to your dad’s.”
Elijah was renting a house now, but he’d probably get something once we finalized the divorce.
My daughter rolled her eyes. “What else is going on? Crickets keeping you up at night?”
“Very funny. Your grandparents’ neighbor stopped by this morning with hot biscuits and fresh eggs from her backyard chickens and fresh peaches from her tree. Can’t get that in Houston,” I bragged. Idabelle Bennet’s biscuits alone were worth the trip.
“I’m pretty sure somewhere in Houston granola hipsters have backyard chickens and a peach stand at the farmer’s market,” Naomi snapped.
“Anyway, she caught me up on all the hot gossip,” I said, ignoring her snide remark but stopping before I launched into the tangled neighborhood grapevine.
I stuck to updates about my childhood friend, Natalie, and the health conditions of various stalwarts from the church. Many of them weren’t sure about the new preacher, even though he’d been there for over a year. The rest of Idabelle’s update centered on Caleb McKnight’s grand entry into Bliss society. The thought of talking about my old high school crush with Naomi made the back of my neck itch.
Caleb came back to town a year ago and brought a ton of investment with him. Downtown now housed remote working spaces, an artist’s collective, and galleries, instead of empty buildings. Creatives who found Austin too expensive lived in studio apartments overlooking Main Street. He brought even more new residents with him in the form of employees from the multibillion-dollar company he’d sold and where he still served as a board member. He got the local telecom company to expand high-speed internet services, which made Bliss even more attractive to newcomers.
The biggest news was that he’d bought the mansion on Bliss farm. His co-founders and friends built new houses on parcels nearly all the way around the lake.
That Caleb lived in the grand old house tickled Idabelle silly. “Can you imagine? I remember that nasty bigot Gerald Bliss from when I was little. He built the place. He’s surely rolling in his grave with a black man living there.”
She tittered with so much delight her mug shook in her smooth dark hands, almost spilling her coffee. I nodded along, remembering the boy I’d been obsessed with as a teen and a little surprised the Bliss kids would sell to Caleb. They used to look down their noses at him, and as much as people appreciated his sports heroics, they also whispered about his background. Living with his grandmother. Father in prison back in Illinois. Mother who knew where.
And he didn’t help with all the trouble he got into when he first moved here.
But that was the past. Caleb had made good.
Just like he promised.
My cheeks heated thinking back to our last night in Bliss after graduation. I took off the very next day to start a summer job in Austin and get a jump on my college experience. He left for Houston a few weeks later.
But that night, after years of smiling at him and trying to get his attention at school, I finally told him how I felt. Until recently, I would have said it was the most embarrassing moment of life. I threw myself at him on the pier behind the mansion, kissing him with all the fervor of an inexperienced girl who watched too many rom-coms.
At first, he stiff-armed me like one of the linebackers he ran over when the Bliss Bobcats won the 2A state championship.
“I can’t.”
“Don’t you like me?” My question sounded pathetic, even to my own ears.
“I like you more than anything in this world, but your daddy would kill me.”
“Daddy’s not here.”
I went for another kiss, and he kissed me back. Hard. Long. Then softer and softer until I couldn’t tell whether the moans mixing with the buzz of cicadas were mine or his.
It was the sweetest feeling on earth, that kiss.
But he broke it off and swore.
“He’s right. You deserve better than me. But one day, I’ll be a man who deserves you.”
I frowned at him. “Daddy’s hard on folks. For the record, you’re amazing right now. You’re funny and smart. I wouldn’t have gotten through calculus without your jokes or your tutoring.”
My head swam. I put my hand on Caleb’s chest like I could push the words into him. He was so warm, and his heart was pounding.
Then he smiled back. I remember because Caleb rarely smiled. It was like he steeled himself against joy, so the world never had the chance to disappoint him. Darkness sank all around us, but I remember how his full lips stretched wide into a broad, bright smile that could have lit up the sky.
“You’re sweet when you lie,” he said. “You did fine in calculus. Colton was the one who almost failed.”
“You still make me laugh,” I huffed and poked his stomach. He quivered and stepped back.
I stepped forward, hoping I could get him to kiss me again. He pushed me back with more force, caught me so I didn’t fall, then mumbled an apology and sprinted into the dark.
I didn’t see him again until our friend Ian’s wedding six years later. By then, I was married. He was in grad school.
But I never forgot that kiss. My skin still tingled at the thought of it. Damn, he’d smelled amazing. He’d been flipping burgers all day. The smell of barbecue smoke still reminded me of Caleb.
“Earth to Mom!”
I blinked. Naomi waved her hand, frowning.
“Are you sure you’re okay? We can come home instead of interning for the summer.”
I shook my head. “Absolutely not. Working at a firm is too important an opportunity if you two are thinking about law school. Don’t worry about me. How are you?”
“Fine,” she clipped.
“You said the news was getting bad.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m handling it. I’m not the first kid to have a dad in trouble or go to prison or whatever. In D.C., it practically makes me a celebrity.”
Her attempt at humor only worried me more.
“Your father’s not going to prison,” I insisted out of half reassurance and half hope.
“You don’t know that.”
“If anyone can handle himself, it’s your dad. I’m not worried about jail, and I don’t want you to worry either. We’ll straighten this out.”
Her frown came back with a vengeance. “You mean he will. This is his problem. His and Tyffani’s.” Naomi gagged the woman’s name and stuck out her tongue. “God, I hope he dumps her soon. I can’t do another video call with her pretending she can be you. I’m embarrassed for her.”
I knew nothing about my husband’s latest mistress. I still hadn’t met her, and from the few people I’d spoken with at the church, she hadn’t been around there much. Elijah had to maintain appearances. Having Tyffani playing first wife of the church during our divorce would only make things worse. Still, she moved in with him after our separation. Former friends saw them together around town.
I almost felt bad for her. Who knew what my can’t-be-my-ex-husband-soon-enough told her? Elijah was all about Elijah. If she was counting on him, she’d be disappointed. I might occasionally call her a whore in my head. Or laugh when my friend Natalie called her “the barnacle skank” for how she’d attached herself to my marriage.
But she was one of many—not that I told my kids that—and Elijah was the one who promised me fidelity before the God he claimed to love and worship and the family he preached was so sacred.
“Our marriage fell apart because of more than Tyffani or even the trouble at the church. It takes two to make a marriage and two to break one,” I said, mostly meaning it.
Raising my kids, working, and supporting Elijah kept me busy for over two decades. My armor of busy hid the cracks. The role of preacher’s wife never suited me. I wasn’t a soulful woman who wanted to lead the women’s groups and be an example. Every Bible verse and thunderous proclamation from the pulpit was another stitch tightening the straight jacket of propriety my parents strapped onto me before I could walk. Being a shining light was as exhausting as it was unfulfilling, but I never told him that. I pretended because I didn’t know what else I wanted to do and going along was easier than facing that fear.
But I had to face it now, and it wasn’t nearly as scary as I thought. What I might never tell my kids is that I wished I’d left Elijah long before Tyffani. Or Susan. Or that flat-assed babysitter we had when they were nine. Cammy?
Maybe I should tell them. I looked at my sparkling, sharp-tongued daughter with her round, expressive eyes fringed with thick, curled lashes like her father’s. I wanted her to be more honest with herself than I had been until now.
“He’s still your father, and he loves you.”
“And I love him,” she admitted in a choked voice, “but I don’t like him right now.”
Me neither.
But I wouldn’t say that out loud, so I asked about her internship and kept it moving, glad my feelings about her dad were getting less relevant by the day.