Chapter 8
She’d put off calling Lucas as long as she could—and difficult conversations didn’t get easier by kicking them down the road.
Diane sat at the café table in the kitchenette of the annex at Anna Williams’s house, eyeing the plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies she’d found waiting for her yesterday.
After her tense parting from Martin, the welcome gesture had been more appreciated than Anna could ever know—though she had yet to loosen the plastic wrap and sample one.
Maybe after this call, she would.
Taking an unsteady breath, she pulled up Lucas’s number on her cell and placed the call.
Three rings in, she sighed.
He wasn’t going to answer.
Not surprising, since he often let her calls roll, though on occasion he picked up.
Too bad today hadn’t been one of those times.
She’d have to go with Plan B—text him and ask him to call her. Email would be a last resort. What she had to say wasn’t—
“Hi, Mom. What’s up?”
Her heart tripped at his cool greeting.
“Mom?”
“Yes. Sorry.” Her words came out choppy. “I’m here.”
“You okay?” There was a thread of caution in his question.
“Yes.” She stood. Swallowed. Began to pace. “I, uh, have some news.”
“Okay.” His tone was wary.
There was no easy way to lead up to what she had to say, nor predict what Lucas’s reaction would be in light of his estrangement from Martin and mere tolerance of her.
It was possible he wouldn’t even care about the split.
But whatever his reaction, he deserved to know what had led her to take this step.
She paused beside the window. Looked past the table and two chairs on Anna’s patio, toward the well-kept yard beyond. Fisted her free hand. “I’m not living with your father anymore. I left yesterday.”
Silence.
She waited him out.
A full ten seconds ticked by as he digested her bombshell. “Are you guys getting divorced?”
“That’s not on the table yet. Right now, we’re just separated.”
“Man. Did he go ballistic?”
“No, but he wasn’t happy.”
“I bet. You always fall in line with Dad. Even when he’s wrong.”
Her stomach clenched.
Lucas was right—and he’d paid a price for her acquiescence.
If she’d been more assertive while he was in high school, maybe he wouldn’t have ended up in trouble with the law or lost a year of his life in a juvenile detention facility.
Maybe Martin would have seen the light and been the father Lucas needed.
Maybe Lucas wouldn’t be far away at a college in Texas, waiting tables to pay his bills as he forged his own path.
So many lost opportunities.
Her vision fogged.
Neither she nor Martin had been good role models for their son.
But lamenting the past was fruitless. All she could do was try to make a new start.
“I won’t deny that, Lucas.” She swiped a finger under her lashes. “Your father is a forceful personality, and I caved. I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger. But I will be in the future.”
“Why did you suddenly decide to leave?”
“It wasn’t sudden. I’ve been thinking about it for a couple of years. It’s a big step, though, and it took me a while to work up the courage to take it.”
“Where did you go?”
“I’m staying at Anna Williams’s annex in town.”
A beat ticked by. “Isn’t that the place with, like, one room?”
She scanned the queen-sized bed peeking out from behind a folding screen, the couch and upholstered chair grouped in the sitting area, the small but fully equipped kitchenette and tiny bathroom. “Yes, but it has everything I need.”
“Does Dad know you’re staying there?”
“Yes.”
“I bet he’s worried about what the people in town will say.”
Her son knew his father well.
“He’ll get over it.”
“So what are you going to do now?”
“I got a job at the library in Coos Bay. My first day is tomorrow.”
“For real?”
“Yes.”
“That’s kind of cool.” Was there a hint of admiration—and approval—in his inflection?
“I wish I had time to come down and see you for a few days first, though.”
“My summer internship with the graphic design firm starts tomorrow anyway.”
“I know. And I’m proud of you for getting that.” Even if Martin had dissed it after she’d shared the news with him.
Giving her yet another incentive to leave.
Who cared if Lucas didn’t want to work at the mill? Very few family businesses lasted beyond a handful of generations. As far as she was concerned, Martin could sell out tomorrow to one of the companies that had approached him with an offer. The business had become far too dominant in his life.
“I’m sure Dad wasn’t.” Beneath his attempt to sound nonchalant, a glimmer of hurt echoed.
Perhaps one only a mother could detect.
Diane’s throat pinched.
Despite Lucas’s facade of indifference about his father, it was clear that deep down he still cared what Martin thought of him. Still yearned for his approval.
“He and I didn’t discuss it very much.”
“You don’t have to cover for him, Mom. I know he’s mad. But I don’t have any interest in joining the company, and I don’t want to spend my life in a lumber mill.”
“He may eventually realize that everyone has to find their own path.”
“Right.” Based on his tone, he deemed that outcome about as probable as a week without fog in Hope Harbor.
She couldn’t disagree with his conclusion.
“I know you’ll be busy this summer, but I’d love to hear from you. A text every few days would be great.”
“I guess I can do that. Let me know if Dad strong-arms you into going back.”
“He won’t.”
“Uh-huh.”
Translation? He wasn’t convinced she’d stick it out, especially if Martin started pressuring her to return.
But he was wrong.
There wasn’t much she was certain about in terms of her future, but on that point she was confident.
And as they said their goodbyes, she pressed her lips together and straightened her shoulders.
She may not have exhibited any backbone in her marriage for more than a decade, but she did have one. In her high school and college days, she hadn’t been afraid to stand up for what she believed in. To make waves, if necessary, to achieve her goals.
Somehow that grit and fortitude had deserted her after Martin began spending more hours at the mill and exhibiting less patience at home. It had been simpler to back off and let him run the show.
And both she and Lucas had paid the price for her unwillingness to take a stand.
But in spite of their son’s skepticism, there was a chance Martin would have a change of heart. That her leaving would prod him to rethink his behavior and priorities.
A long shot, yes, yet not out of the realm of possibility. Miracles did happen on occasion.
She wandered over to the table, worked the plastic wrap covering the plate free, and pulled out a cookie. Bit in.
And as the crumbly goodness dissolved on her tongue, leaving a sweet taste in its wake, she made a resolution.
While Lucas clearly harbored doubts about her commitment to stick with the program, she wasn’t backing down. From now on, she was taking charge of her life.
Hopefully, the new path she was following would circle back to Martin—but she was staying the course, wherever it might lead.
Lauren wasn’t in her hospital room.
After knocking on the bathroom door with no response, Devyn retraced her steps to the hall.
“Are you looking for your sister?”
At the question, Devyn pivoted toward the aide who’d come up behind her. “Yes.”
“I saw her walking toward the lounge about ten minutes ago.” The woman motioned toward the end of the hall.
“Thanks. I’ll check there.”
Devyn continued down the corridor, slowing as she approached the doorway to the room where her sister sat alone by a window, her gaze fixed on the blue sky, a walker beside her.
A walker?
That was new . . . and it didn’t bode well.
During the countless circuits of this floor the two of them had made together with the encouragement of the staff, Lauren had been doing fine without any medical equipment to stabilize her.
What had changed?
Prepping for possible bad news, she called up a smile and entered. “Good morning. Although we’re on the cusp of afternoon.”
Lauren shifted around in her chair, but her lips remained flat. “Did you go to church?”
“Yes.” She crossed the room and took an adjacent seat.
“Reverend Baker sends his best wishes. Mr. Howard does too. I stopped in at the hardware store yesterday, and he asked me to tell you he was thinking about you. He also sent these.” She retrieved the hard candies from her purse and passed them to Lauren.
The strain in her sister’s features eased a hair. “I used to go there with Dad. Those were happy days.” A sheen appeared in her eyes, and she sniffed. “Nothing stays the same, does it?”
A rhetorical question that didn’t require an answer.
Nevertheless, Devyn responded. “No. Life has a way of throwing curves and disrupting plans.”
“Not for you.”
“I’ve had a few unexpected challenges.” She tapped the walker and changed the subject. “What’s with this?”
Lauren made a face. “The aide was too busy to walk with me, and she said if I wanted to go alone, I should use this.”
“Do you think you need it?”
Her sister shrugged. “I’m a little unsteady sometimes. And I get tired fast. I only made it this far before I had to sit and rest.” She huffed out her disgust.
“Dr. Sherman told us to expect that. She also said it wouldn’t be unusual to experience headaches or have difficulty concentrating. Remember?”
“No.”
“Also normal. Memory issues can persist too.”
“I hate how my brain feels fuzzy sometimes. And my coordination is off.”
“You were in a coma, Lauren. There are going to be residual effects. But Dr. Sherman says you’ve made excellent progress, and all your symptoms should dissipate with time.”
“How much time?”
“I don’t know, but considering where you are today versus a week ago, I have to believe you’ll be feeling more normal soon.”
“I hope so. I have to go back to work.”
“The dental office said they’ll hold your place until you can return.”