Chapter 12
Diane finished the last bite of her Sunday afternoon dinner from the Myrtle, closed the takeout container, and picked up the one remaining cookie from the plate of a dozen Anna had left for her.
Despite being used to solo meals after the long hours Martin worked, it would have been nice to eat at the café instead of bringing her food home. It was sad to have only a book or TV show for companionship night after night. The best meals were social occasions shared with family or friends.
A solitary dinner at the Myrtle wouldn’t have offered much companionship, of course, but the chatter and laughter of other diners would have added a pleasant backdrop.
However . . . after the murmur that had run through the crowd when she’d auditioned for Oklahoma, the thought of subjecting herself to more scrutiny and speculation had dinged her appetite.
On the plus side, no one at the Coos Bay library had taken much notice of the new staff member. Martin might be a big fish in the small pond of Hope Harbor, but the sphere of interest in the Fisher family had a small radius.
She rose and wandered over to the window as she munched on her cookie.
Anna was on the patio, watering the pots that rimmed it. Nurturing the flowers, coaxing them to bloom.
Like friends did for each other—if you were fortunate enough to have any.
She didn’t, despite what Martin seemed to think.
Friend was far too generous a term for the women she’d met in the Coos Bay every-other-month book club she’d joined.
Acquaintance was more accurate. Friendship required trust and sharing, and given Martin’s obsession with image, he would have been furious if she’d vented to anyone about her issues at home.
Anna moved on to the birdfeeder and replenished it from a bag of seed. More evidence of her caring nature, and consistent with the scuttlebutt that the woman liked to take in strays—both human and nonhuman.
After brushing the crumbs off her fingers, Diane folded her arms.
Lucky for her, the woman’s annex had been available and Anna had been willing to take her in.
It wasn’t as if she’d had any family to turn to.
No siblings, and Mom and Dad were both gone.
Not that they would have been sympathetic to her plight, anyway.
Dad had been an overbearing world-class chauvinist, and Mom would have scolded her for complaining about a faithful husband who worked hard and gave her a comfortable life.
At least her charity work had kept her occupied over the years. Otherwise, she’d have gone stir—
Her cell began to ring, and she pulled it out of her pocket.
Lucas?
When had he last initiated a phone call with her?
Too long ago to remember.
Truth be told, she’d been lucky to get an occasional response to her texts once he went away to college—until this week, when he’d replied to both of her pings.
But a phone call was different.
Either they were forging new ground faster than she’d hoped for, or something was up.
She put the phone to her ear. “Hi, Lucas. This is a happy surprise.”
“Are you busy?”
“Never too busy to talk to you. How was your first week at the design studio?” She’d already texted that question, but maybe in a phone call she’d get more than a thumbs-up emoji.
“Good. The people are cool, and my boss said after I learn the ropes, he’s going to give me a couple of projects to work on. Those could be portfolio items.”
Diane’s lips curved up at his enthusiasm. Day and night from the cocky teen who’d vandalized and bullied and ended up with an underage DUI.
Thank heaven the chaplain in the juvenile detention center had helped him turn his life around after she and Martin failed at that task.
But that was in the past, and lamenting her mistakes wouldn’t fix them. All she could do was try harder to be the kind of mom he needed in the future.
She forced a bright note into her voice. “I’m glad it’s going well.”
“Me too. Listen . . . what’s up with Dad?”
Diane frowned. “What do you mean?”
“He called and texted today.”
O-kay. That was unexpected.
“What did he want?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t answer the call, and he didn’t leave a message. All he said in his text was, ‘Can we talk?’ Did you ask him to call me? Because he hasn’t tried to contact me in months.”
“No.”
“Have you been in touch with him since you left?”
A bird fluttered onto the feeder Anna had filled, as if it had been waiting and watching for her kind gesture. “I didn’t initiate anything, but he stopped by my place Friday night.”
“Did you talk to him?”
“He did most of the talking.”
Lucas snorted. “Surprise, surprise. What did he want?”
“He tried to convince me to come home.”
“Was he ticked off when you didn’t cave?”
“I don’t think he was happy, but he didn’t seem angry, either. And he promised to make some changes if I came back. One of those was reaching out to you. That may have prompted his call and text today.”
A few seconds ticked by.
“In other words, it was all part of his plan to get you back. It wasn’t about me.” Once again, there was a subtle hurt in his inflection that no one but a mother would detect.
Much as she’d like to assure him he was wrong, who knew what motivated Martin these days?
But her husband’s ego wasn’t the only one at stake in this situation, and she wasn’t going to put any more nicks in Lucas’s.
“Despite what you may think, your dad loves you. That’s why he took your side in the past even when you were wrong. Why he tried to compensate for all the hours he spent at the mill by buying you expensive presents.”
“I didn’t need stuff, Mom. I never did.” He blew out a breath. “You know all that stupid acting out I did in high school? I think maybe it was my way of trying to get him to notice me.”
Her son had grown up.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I agree. And it’s possible your dad realizes that too. Maybe if he had a second chance, he’d do things differently. That could be what he wants to talk to you about.”
“Right.” He didn’t attempt to hide his sarcasm. “He just wants you to think he’s trying to reconnect with me.”
“What if he really is?”
A beat ticked by, and when Lucas spoke again, there was a note of caution in his voice. “Why are you taking his side after all the stuff he’s done?”
Whoops.
Better dial it back before she lost any of the ground she’d gained with him.
“I’m not taking his side. I’m trying to keep an open mind. People who want to change can change. You did.”
“Being thrown into detention made me realize I didn’t want to wreck my whole life. Dad’s already successful, and he’s too set in his ways to change.” His tone brooked no room for argument.
“You may be right. But would it hurt to see what he has to say?”
“Why should I put myself back in the line of fire? He’s still mad I don’t want to work at the mill. Last time we talked, he was all over me about it.”
“He may have something else on his mind now.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know—and you won’t either, unless you call him.”
Silence.
She tried again. “If you don’t want to call, you could always text.”
“I’ll think about it. So you doing okay?”
The discussion about Martin was over. And trying to prolong it could undermine her attempt to initiate a new start with her son.
“Yes. Learning the ropes at the library and dipping my toes into social life in Hope Harbor. I always wanted to get more involved in the activities in town.” She’d save the show news for another day.
“Dad won’t be happy about that. He always acted like we were better than everyone else. You may have to convince people you’re not a snob.”
A very possible and intimidating prospect.
“I guess I’ll find out. Will you stay in touch, Lucas? Tell me what you decide to do about your dad?”
“Yeah. I’ll text you.”
“That’ll work. Take care of yourself.”
“You too. Bye, Mom.”
As he ended the call, Diane pocketed her phone, wandered back to the table, and cleared up the trash from her dinner.
Too bad it wasn’t as easy to sweep the past clean.
But she was making progress with Lucas, and whatever the motivation for Martin’s outreach to their son, perhaps it would lead to a positive result.
An outcome certainly worth praying for on this beautiful Sunday afternoon.
“I have meatloaf from the Myrtle!” Devyn called out the news as she entered the house.
When there was no response, her pulse picked up.
Had Lauren gone wandering again, despite her promise not to leave the house unaccompanied for the immediate future?
She continued to the kitchen, set the takeout containers on the counter, and tried to tamp down her worry.
Yesterday’s little foray to the wharf had knocked her sister flat for three hours after she returned. She’d barely made it to the bedroom before her eyelids slammed closed.
Confirmation that while walking was all fine and good, as Dr. Sherman and the physical therapist who came twice a week had said, going all the way to the wharf alone had been a bad decision.
Lauren hadn’t been in the mood to hear that when she’d arrived home, however. Nor had she wanted to listen to reason after she’d finally roused for dinner. If not for a threat to bring in extra help to keep an eye on her, it was doubtful she’d have agreed to stay put unless someone went with her.
So where was she now?
A quick pass through the house provided no clues, nor had Lauren left a note about going out, as she had yesterday.
Circuit completed, Devyn stopped in the middle of the living room, fists on hips.
Now what?
If her sister had ventured out again, it was doubtful she’d answer her phone.
A quick drive through town would—
Wait.
What was that noise?
Devyn cocked her ear.
The sound was impossible to identify, but it seemed to be coming from the basement.
She strode to the door in the hall that led downstairs. Pulled it open.
The noise was louder here, and definitely wafting up from the lower level.
It sounded like . . . a sewing machine?
“Lauren?”
The noise stopped.
“Yes. I’m down here.”