Chapter 23
Darbi and Jacqui didn’t want Mary to leave, but she insisted she needed to be alone. How would she ever live with herself knowing that, because of her jealousy of Liz and a prolonged bad mood with her husband, Kendra didn’t exist? As she sat at a red light in bumper-to-bumper traffic on Route 9 while making her way home, she wished she could drive right back into her old life. At the exit for Shoppers World, she banged a U-ey and headed west toward Hudson. Dean and Kendra wouldn’t be there, but she thought being near her old home would make her feel closer to them. Then maybe she could figure out a way to return to her old life as Kendra’s mom and Dean’s wife.
As she turned onto the street where she used to live, nostalgia overwhelmed her. Hot, gummy tears clouded her vision. How many times had she driven around that corner with Kendra, first in a car seat behind her, an infant sleeping or a toddler clutching Yogi, her stuffed bear, then as a school-age child or tween riding beside her in the passenger seat, fiddling with the stereo, and finally as a teenager and young adult behind the steering wheel, talking about her future.
Mary had read once that criminals often returned to the scene of the crime. She didn’t know why that popped into her head. She hadn’t committed a crime, after all. Though she imagined what she’d done was much worse.
The houses on the road looked exactly as she remembered. Split levels, colonials, and raised ranches. Finally, she saw her and Dean’s colonial. She stopped her car in the middle of the road, wanting to run inside, right back to her old life. She shifted the car into park and placed a hand on the driver’s side door handle. The house was the same brown it had been the day she and Dean had moved in. Poop brown, Dean had called it. They’d had it painted a beautiful blue gray within the first few weeks of living there, and oh how the neighbors had complimented her for that choice. The landscaping was as unappealing as the house color. Crabgrass and dandelions had replaced her lush green lawn. Weeds dominated the flower beds, and of course Kendra’s tree, the maple Dean had planted the day she was born, didn’t exist. Mary stared at the barren spot in the yard, devastated. Her chest tightened as she started a new round of ugly crying. She’d been holding out hope that somehow Kendra and Dean still lived there. Instead, she’d gotten a visible heartbreaking reminder that her daughter no longer existed.
A horn beeped. She looked in the rearview mirror. Jenni’s ex-husband, Scott, gestured from the driver’s seat of the car behind her. He was probably there to pick up his and Jenni’s son, Scotty. The passenger, a woman, grimaced as if embarrassed by his impatience. Mary was about to give them an apologetic wave when Scott beeped again. He motioned with his hand for her to move and then leaned on the horn. Mary inched forward, giving him enough room to turn into Jenni’s driveway. He glared as he passed her. Still the same old jerk he was in the last version of her life.
She idled in front of her old house, desperately needing to see Jenni. The two of them could sit at Jenni’s kitchen table like they had so many times, and Mary could confide in her old friend about the blasted Mulligan gene that had gotten her in this predicament. There was no one more understanding than Jenni. The right-front door of Scott’s car opened, and the passenger stepped out. Mary’s back tightened as the woman made her way down the driveway toward the spot where Mary was parked. Jenni? When the woman reached Mary’s car, she knocked on the passenger window. Mary scrambled to push the button to lower the glass. The back window on the driver’s side zipped down. She tried again. This time her window came down. On the third try, she got it right.
Jenni leaned into the car. At least Mary thought it was Jenni. This woman looked a decade older than Mary’s friend. Her hair was almost all gray. She had put on thirty pounds, and the lines around her eyes and mouth seemed an inch deep.
“Jenni?” Seeing her vibrant, funny friend so worn down caused fresh tears to well up in Mary’s eyes. She blinked them away.
Jenni tilted her head. “Do I know you?”
The question was like a slap to the face. Other than Dean, Jenni knew her better than anyone. The day Mary and Dean had moved in to their Hudson home, Jenni had knocked on their door to introduce herself. Mary had made a joke about needing a margarita to get through the unpacking. A half hour later, Jenni returned with a pitcher of margaritas, and Mary put her to work emptying the kitchen boxes. Ever since then, the two had supported each other through life’s ups and downs—the birth of their children, the death of their parents, and Jenni’s divorce. Even Jenni’s support wouldn’t be able to get her through this, though. She’d lost her entire life.
“I used to work at Holy Grounds,” Mary lied, referring to a coffee shop she and Jenni used to go to together all the time.
Jenni narrowed her eyes. “I don’t remember you.”
“House light with skim milk and two Sweet’n Lows.”
Jenni nodded. “Good memory.” Her hand rested on the frame of the window, giving Mary a clear view of her gold wedding band. Her heart sank. By having her wisdom teeth removed and turning twenty-four again, she’d ruined Jenni’s life too. Kendra, Liz, James, and now Jenni. Her selfish decision was claiming more casualties. The only person whose life seemed better without her was Dean’s. On the other hand, he’d lost out on his cherished daughter, so maybe she should count him as a victim too.
“Jenni,” Scott growled, staring at Mary’s car with his hands on his hips.
“You look upset,” Jenni said. “Do you need help?”
Mary needed to find a way to keep Jenni there. Sitting in front of her house talking to her old friend, even this sad, dejected version of Jenni, was the closest she would ever get to her old life again. “I’m thinking of moving here someday, so I’m checking out the area.”
Jenni scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. Her eyes roamed around Mary’s car as if she was looking for something suspicious. “Really?”
“Do you know anyone who’s thinking of selling?”
“Actually, the Millers are.” She pointed to Mary’s house. “They’re moving to Connecticut to be closer to their grandchildren.”
Grandchildren. The word triggered a fresh onslaught of emotion. Mary would never be a grandmother to Kendra’s kids, the ones with the posh British accents.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jenni stared at Mary with a compassionate look.
Mary was far from okay, but she nodded. She wanted to scream, It’s me. Mary Amato. Your best friend for the past two decades. She missed her old friend so much. Even though she was close enough to touch Jenni, she felt far away and lonely, and she would feel that way for the rest of her life.
Jenni backed out of the window, but Mary wasn’t ready for her to leave. “Do you like living here?”
Jenni leaned back in the car. “It’s a nice neighborhood.”
Mary looked over her shoulder at Scott, who was taking groceries out of the trunk. “And you’re happy?”
Jenni turned to see what Mary was looking at. “Am I happy?”
Somehow, having Mary as a friend had given Jenni the strength she’d needed to leave Scott. Without Mary, she’d stayed and seemed miserable. Mary couldn’t help but feel responsible. She hoped against hope that she was misreading the situation, that Jenni was the same happy-go-lucky woman she was in Mary’s real life, and today was just a bad day. The way Jenni stared at her now with her mouth twisted and eyes narrow told Mary she’d asked an inappropriate question. After all, Jenni didn’t know her from Adam in this alternate life. “I mean living here. Are you happy living in this town? The neighborhood?”
Jenni squinted. “Hudson’s going through a resurrection. It’s one of the most desired places to live in Massachusetts right now.”
Mary’s mouth tingled. Jenni wasn’t happy, and Mary was to blame. She’d left when she herself had been happy—or at the very least could have been. If she’d only told Dean about the things that had upset her, if she’d only understood the positive impact she’d had on other people’s lives, she would have seen that her life mattered, that she had contributed. Why was she so convinced that she’d done nothing with her life when she’d brought Kendra into the world and raised her to be a strong, kind adult?
“Jenni, what are you doing?” Scott yelled. “These groceries aren’t going to put themselves away.”
“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime,” Mary said.
Jenni hung her head, and Mary eyed her empty passenger seat. She wanted to tell her old friend to climb in so she could drive her far away from Scott. Pulling herself from the window again, Jenni took a deep breath and crossed the street with her neck bent down. Scott thrust grocery bags into her hands. “Who were you talking to for so long? I pay for all this food and help you shop for it, now you expect me to put it all away?”
Mary stepped on the gas. I’ve ruined everything for everyone, she thought, hating herself a little bit more. She’d had a husband who loved her, a kind, smart, healthy daughter, and friends who’d treated her like family. Why had she thought life owed her anything else?