Chapter 7
FOX
“What’s this?” Ava says, getting in the truck and reaching down to pick something up at her feet.
I glance over. “It’s a flip phone.”
“Wow! Like from last century? Can I open it?”
“It’s not mine. It must have been Wren’s. Did you see her with a phone?”
“No, but it could’ve fallen when everything slid out of her bag. She must be wondering where it is. My mom freaks out every time she loses her phone.” She puts her fingers up in quotation marks when she says the word loses. “But it’s always under something—the paper she was reading or something.”
I laugh. “Be patient with her.”
“I’m trying.” She sighs dramatically eyeing me while I drive.
“You’re staring for some reason. I got something on my face besides strikingly good looks?”
“I was just wondering. How come you and my mom don’t date?”
“We’re friends.”
“Friends with benefits?”
I glance over at her, and she’s biting her thumbnail to a nub. “Do you know what that means?”
“No. Just heard it. What does it mean?”
“That’s a mom thing to explain.”
She’s quiet for a while, propping her feet up on the dashboard. She finally says, “So you’re just friends?”
“Yeah.”
“I guess that’s good. Mom needs friends. She’s sad.”
I frown at the road, surprised.
“Not all the time. Just when she thinks I’m not looking. Or when a couple comes in and they’re holding hands or whatever.”
“It can be hard being an adult and wanting love that hasn’t reached you yet.”
“I’m glad I’m not an adult.”
“Yep. Live it up.”
My cell rings.
“You can get that if you want to,” she says.
I glance down at it. “I’m going to have to use the speaker. Sorry. It might be a little rough.” I tap the screen. “Hi, Mom.”
“Johnathon, I put the trash out this morning, and it’s still sitting there. I’m going to call and fire that garbage service and try another one.”
“Tomorrow’s trash day.”
“I know when trash day is, and it’s…” She’s quiet and Ava looks over at me and mouths, “Tomorrow.”
“Isn’t Carmel there right now, spending time with you?” I ask.
“That woman drives me crazy, moving my stuff around, asking me if I went to the toilet as if that’s any of her business. And I swear she sneaks into the house when I’m sleeping and scares the snot out of me. I’m going to get the locks changed.”
“Mom, Carmel comes to help you.”
“She’s a hindrance, not a help.”
“Just keep your trash out. Don’t lug it back in. They’ll pick it up tomorrow morning.”
“Too many wild animals will get into it. They’ll make a mess, and it’ll just encourage them to come back for more.”
“I’m coming into town right now. I just passed Greene’s.”
“Did you already tuck the cows in?”
“Yep. Gave them each a kiss.”
“You go back and give them another from me,” she says.
Ava giggles, and I say, “How about instead of kissing cows I come over and take care of your trash for you? I’ll stop by and bring you some pie from The Cracked Egg.”
“What kind of pie?”
“Peach, of course. Your favorite.”
“I’ll make you a peach pie.”
“You can make one next time. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
She attempts to hang up but presses a number key a bunch of times.
“Mom.”
“Oh. Did you call me back, John?”
“Yes. I just wanted to say that I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I hang up and pull into the spot beside Seventh Heaven.
Ava jumps out then sticks her head back in. “I forgot to tell you. Lacy said I can board a horse there. Do you think Mom will let me?”
“I don’t know, but how about the three of us sit down and talk about it?”
She grins and closes the door with a thud.
The Cracked Egg is surprisingly busy. I buy a cherry pie, since Tamara is out of peach.
Ned and Rena walk in, just as I’m walking out with my two pies and a grin on my face, because I’m thinking about visiting Wren again.
“Come and sit with us,” Rena says.
“You can share those pies with us,” Ned teases.
“I’m on my way to see Mom.”
“Tell her we said hi.” Rena studies my face. “What else can we do to help you and your mom?”
“I’m not sure,” I tell her. “Honestly, it feels like I’m just figuring things out as I go.”
Rena nods. “You got her finances in order?”
“We did that before she moved. Fortunately. I didn’t realize how quickly…” I look down at my boots.
Ned reaches around and gives me a firm squeeze. “We’ll help you with anything, son. You have to tell us when you’re struggling.”
“How’s Carmel and Angelita doing?” Rena asks.
“They’re wonderful. They’re patient with Mom, and she gets along with them, for the most part. Unless she’s sundowning, like today.” I hold up the bag of pies. “I’m hoping this’ll help a little.”
“We’ll let you go, son,” Ned says.
Rena gives me a big hug, and I walk back to my pickup with my pies. Lately, it’s hard to know what to expect when I visit Mom. Sometimes she’s clear and sharp as a tack. But more often now, she’s lethargic and confused or anxious and pacing. Or even angry and combative with her caregivers.
“Hi, Mom,” I call out, letting myself in.
“Back here!” Carmel yells.
I follow the sound of Carmel’s voice as she chats with Mom.
Mom’s sitting on her bed, glaring at Carmel. “You’ll have to pry my clothes off my dead body if you want me to take a shower. It’s too cold in there.”
“Let me turn the space heater in the bathroom on, Mom,” I tell her, smiling sympathetically at Carmel.
“Where have you been?” Mom frowns at me. “I’ve been waiting all day for you.” She turns to Carmel. “I told you Robert’s taking me to dinner.”
“Mom, it’s me. John. I brought you some pie.”
Mom looks away. “I know it’s you, John.”
I reach out a hand for her to take, and after a pause, she takes it and smiles. “Come on. Let’s go have some pie. And by the time we have a piece, the bathroom will be warm.”
“Thank you,” she says stiffly. “This woman wants to freeze me out all the time, and I’m sick of it.”
The two of us eat a slice of pie while Carmel putters around tidying and preparing for Mom’s shower. When we’re done, I help Mom wash our dishes—a task she still loves to do, even if she struggles with exactly how to make it happen.
“Mom, I want to stay longer, but I have to get back before the road’s flood.”
“You’re going already? You haven’t visited for months. The military keeps you too busy.”
I give her a hug without correcting her. “I’m on leave. I’ll be back tomorrow. Save some of that pie for me.” Mom moves closer to me, shooting a glance at Carmel, who’s standing nearby, ready to take over. “That woman might have eaten it by then. She eats all my food.”
I kiss Mom on the head. “I’ll bring another pie, then.”
Carmel follows me to the door. “She’s sundowning hard this evening. I’m glad you came to visit. We needed a diversion.”
“Make sure you take some pie home with you. You’re a gem, Carmel.”
“I know it, Mr. Fox.” She smiles. “Be careful out there. Sounds like it’s a bad one.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
A storm chases behind me from the pizzeria, where I pick up a pizza, all the way to Ned’s. I’m kicking myself because I didn’t ask Ned what cottage Wren’s in, and he’s not answering his cell. Hopefully he’s back by the time I drive past his house, and I can run in and ask.
I keep thinking about Wren, and not just because looking at her does all kinds of things to my body that I haven’t felt in years.
I opened her flip phone. Yeah, I looked.
Maybe it was none of my business. No contacts, no saved recent phone calls.
No texts. It’s like she just got the phone and hasn’t ever used it.
And the bruises on her face. Could Ava be right?
Emma and Danni are in Ned’s kitchen, sitting at the table with their laptops open. Presh, Emma’s dog, is lying on the floor. She wags her tail desultorily when I walk in.
“What kind of welcome is that?” I ask her, bending down to rub at her soft ears.
“She’s got storm anxiety,” Emma offers. “I didn’t even know that was a thing.”
“Poor girl. This is not a good place to have storm anxiety.”
“You’re telling me.” Emma snorts.
I snatch some hard candy from Ned’s candy bowl, slip the wrapper off one, and pop it in my mouth.
“You just stopping in to steal some of GrandNed’s candy?” Danni asks, hopping up and pouring me a mug of coffee. “Or did you want to take a seat and help us?”
“Wren forgot her phone in my truck. I was going to give it back to her. What cottage is she in?”
Danni studies me. “Wren was in your pickup?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Her bike tire split, nosy. I happened to be going past, and I gave her a ride.”
Danni and Emma exchange a look.
“What’s that look about?”
“What look?” Emma says, her eyes wide.
“Right. The secret art of feminine communication.” I down the coffee then set the mug in the sink. “That’ll keep me going another fifteen minutes until I get home, enjoy my pizza in front of the TV, and try to ride out this storm. So, what are you two doing here?”
“Geneva just left,” Danni says. “She redid the website with Tank’s help and Emma and my suggestions. We were just talking about it.” She spins her laptop around and shows me the Heaven website. “I love it. She’s a genius, and I hope she never graduates and never leaves us.”
“You could lock her in her cottage,” I say.
Danni winces. “Sorry. I know that was a joke, but it hits a little too close to home.” She flips her laptop back around and types on her computer before turning it so I can see it again. “Have you ever seen this sign?”
I squint at the picture. “Is that the turnoff to Heaven?”
She nods, expanding the photo on the screen and tapping on the screen. “This right here is that huge magnolia tree. This photograph must have been taken fifty years ago. You think you and Bear could make another sign like this?”
I pull my cell out and snap a photo. “You want it to be exactly like this?”
“Same wording. Turn here for Heaven. Taller and bigger, though. Since the tree’s grown exponentially. We don’t want the sign to be dwarfed by the tree. What do you think?”
“You got a timeline? Because something tells me we’re going to be doing storm cleanup for the next week, but you’re going to want this yesterday.”
“Whenever you guys can get to it. I promise I won’t nag.”
“How’s Tank?” I ask Emma.