Chapter 15
15
I WOKE WITH A CRINGE that had zero to do with how I felt physically. The ceiling fan in my bedroom hummed a rhythmic whirring, its gentle draft brushing my exposed skin. Taking in a measured breath, I assessed myself. Traitorous stomach? Tender. Muscles? Achy. Embarrassment level? Off the chart.
The alarm clock on my nightstand read 4:00 p.m . Hayley should be home, and Micah should have fled, never to return. I sighed, shifting beneath the soft covers. The covers Micah had laundered. I owed him. Big time. I doubted I’d find an appropriate greeting card expressing gratitude for all he’d done and apologizing for fleeing the room after he’d shared such a personal tragedy.
I disentombed from the cocoon of my bed, stretching my back as I stood, and stared at the closed bedroom door. Only Hayley and Precious should be on the other side. But just in case, I pulled a bra from my dresser and slipped it on. Especially since I’d discarded Hayley’s hoodie earlier in the bathroom.
Gently, I turned the knob, cracking the door open. The faint drone of the TV reached my ears, the end of the hallway the farthest I could see.
“She’s not going to ... I mean ... Should we take her to the hospital?” Hayley’s worried voice drifted from the main room.
My heart clenched.
“Nah,” Micah said.
My heart shifted from clenching to sputtering. He was still here.
“She’s much better today.” Micah again. “She only puked once.”
I winced. If only those Men in Black memory erasers really existed.
“I knew she’d catch my flu,” Hayley said. “She wouldn’t leave me alone the entire time I was sick.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a good mom.”
No. I screwed my eyes shut, pain striking the back of my throat . She had a good mom with Claire. I eased the door wider and instantly felt the conviction to stay where I was. Oh, Lord, not now. I ground my teeth, one foot in my bedroom, the other in the hall. If only I could see Hayley’s face. Was she upset by what Micah had said? It wasn’t the first time I’d been linked in a mom reference. People had made the assumption so many times over the years based on our hair color. We’d both stopped correcting people. Learned the hard way it was easier to let strangers assume instead of trying to explain. I hugged my arms to myself. But Micah knew better.
“You know, my mom died when I was fourteen,” Micah said.
“Oh. I’m sorry.” A sweet maturity coated Hayley’s tone. “How’d she die?”
“Cancer.”
“Cancer sucks.” And gone was the maturity.
Micah snorted. “Yes, it does.” A moment passed. “You were young when you lost your parents, right?”
My breath halted in my lungs. I’d never heard Hayley speak to anyone about her parents. I’d always been the one to intercept those questions. Protecting her. At least that’d been my intention. Especially since she’d never wanted to talk about them when I’d brought them up. And all the books and counselors had said not to push. Had they been wrong? Leaning forward, I strained to hear.
“I was two.”
“I’m sorry that happened.”
“I don’t remember them.” Hayley’s words were nearly a whisper.
God, please let me intervene. The clear sensation to stay put remained.
“All I remember is my aunt Kate. Taking me to the library, church, parades, Papa No?l bonfires, the zoo ... but not my parents.”
Tears blurred my vision. From the conversations we’d had over the years, I wasn’t surprised by her declaration. Even the child therapist I’d met with had expressed Hayley not remembering them as a high possibility due to her young age at the time of loss.
“That makes sense,” Micah said. “I don’t remember anything from that age.” All was quiet except for the crinkle of a bag. The distinctive sound of a new bag of chips being opened. Wait. Chips? “Want some?” Micah again.
More crinkling followed. My head tipped back, and I smothered a sigh. Hayley wouldn’t eat a thing come dinner.
“In those first years after my mom died,” Micah said, “I’d wonder what life would have been like if she were still around.”
“Yes!” Hayley bellowed, the relief in her voice clear. “I do that too every so often. It’s fast thoughts though. Like wondering how different my life would be.” Seconds passed. “It’s nice to talk to someone who gets it.”
“I bet your school has a counselor you could meet with.”
“I know,” she huffed. “And my aunt’s offered for me to see a therapist. Several times. I just don’t feel like I need to. I’m not depressed or anxious or anything like that.” A pause. “It’s just nice that you understand without being all weird and formal and doctor-y.”
My head bowed, tension releasing from my neck. Thank You, God. Thank you. Thank you. My relief quickly pricked with guilt. I couldn’t help but think of a young Micah. Had he had someone who got it to talk to after his mom’s death? She’d passed the summer before high school. Other than attending the funeral with Mawmaw and Claire, I hadn’t seen Micah until school had started. I’d looked for him every Sunday at church that summer, but he’d never shown. A dull thump emanated from my heart. Though we hadn’t been close friends, I should’ve reached out to him. Done something.
“I feel like I should get mad when friends complain about their parents, but I don’t,” Hayley said. “My aunt is great. I mean, other than taking forever to get a dog and not letting me ride the streetcar alone. But I think in the end, she’s probably a better parent than mine would have been.”
Goldilocks. My breathing once again seized at this just-right moment, lightheadedness striking me. I placed a hand on the wall for balance.
“Is that terrible to say?” Hayley asked.
“I don’t think so.”
Pressing my fingers to my forehead, I pulled in a slow and deep lungful of air, the sensation of a boulder lifting from my shoulders, from my heart. I had a feeling the Lord had known this conversation was as much for me as it was Hayley. Thank you. I needed to find a time to thank Micah too.
“She’s still not eating. Come on, Precious.” Hayley’s voice pitched to baby talk. “You need to eat.” The sound of the dog’s kibble rattling in its bowl followed. “Her food could be gross. Maybe I should give her a Dorito?”
No shot to the brim of my tongue.
“That might make her sick,” Micah said. “I had a puppy once who was stubborn to eat.”
“What’d you do?”
“I flicked his food across the floor to see if he’d chase and eat it. And he did.”
A beat passed.
“It worked!” Hayley exclaimed.
Drying my eyes with the hem of my shirt, I pulled myself together and entered the living area. Hayley and Micah sat on the kitchen floor several feet apart, Precious between them. Hayley gently tossed a piece of dry kibble. Precious chased and pounced on it. “It looks like y’all are playing Hungry Hungry Hippos.” Their heads turned in my direction.
Hayley’s face radiated pure joy. She threw another morsel of food, and Precious gobbled it up. “Mr. Micah’s a genius.”
I shifted my attention to Micah, ready for him to jump on that compliment with some witty retort. Or flash me a Did you hear that? smirk. Instead, a layer of uncertainty shadowed his face, and he wouldn’t meet my gaze. Was he regretting sharing about his infertility? While I’d been sick and sleeping all afternoon, had he been reminiscing his lost marriage? Was that why he hadn’t remarried since his divorce? Had all of his love interests bailed on him? Or perhaps his overlong staring at Precious’s food bowl was filled with thoughts about his mom’s death.
The man needed an easy exit plan. I grabbed another Gatorade from the fridge and settled on the sofa, pulling Mawmaw’s afghan over my bare legs. How did one tell someone in a subtle way they could leave? Reaching for the remaining saltines on the coffee table, I unwrapped them. If Micah saw I was better, and Hayley was more than capable of caring for Precious, he’d realize on his own he was free to escape this place and the two redheads who’d reopened his old wounds.
And maybe I’d pull out my laptop and start searching for that perfect greeting card for him. After I checked my email and ensured payroll had been processed correctly. And got a jump start on that SBA loan application for buying the Vieux Carré Café.
Why was Micah still here?
Granted, Hayley had cajoled him into staying for a lackluster dinner of canned chicken noodle soup. Mmm-mmm mediocre. Micah had added grilled cheese sandwiches, and after, insisted on cleaning the dishes. Hayley completed her homework at the dining room table, while I’d lain on the couch, praying what I’d eaten would stay down. I’d tried to watch TV, but it’d proven impossible. Especially with the sight of Micah in my kitchen, taking care of everything again. Even occasionally helping Hayley with a homework question. I’d basically been rendered useless, and it was ... nice. Really nice. Like when he’d taken charge at urgent care.
Gratitude had unfurled from within me, and a tension I hadn’t realized I’d been holding eased. As long as I could remember, I’d been the one taking care of someone else. Looking out for Claire when we’d still lived at home. Being there for Ryan. Caring for Mawmaw in her final years. Becoming Hayley’s guardian. Even my employees and their livelihoods rested on my shoulders too. It’d been luxurious, sitting there, my only job in the moment to eat saltines and hydrate.
But it was now eight o’clock. Hayley was in the shower getting ready for bed. She’d even told Micah good night. And yet he was still here. Playing with Precious on the area rug and watching TV . I finished another glass of water, setting it on the coffee table. Was there more to his infertility talk he’d wanted to share that my puking had interrupted? Was he lonely from Sydney dumping him and needed to be around others?
“You keep sighing.” Micah leaned back on his hands, stretching his legs out in front of him.
“Hmm?”
With a lot of effort, Precious climbed over one of his shins and then the other. He gently scratched behind one of her ears. “Have you had enough of me?”
“No.” Puppy poop. That came out way too fast.
The faintest of smiles tugged at his lips.
“I mean ... We’ve basically hijacked your life the past two days. And you’ve got work tomorrow. Hawaiian shirts to wear. Librarian things to accomplish. I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?” He moved to rise from the floor.
My heart sank a fraction.
Pushing to his feet, he palmed the back of his neck. “Before I go...” His gaze touched on me and slid to the television, then the front door.
Oh, how would he end that sentence? “Before I go ... I’d like to reenact carrying you up the stairs again. Especially since you’re in clean clothes and don ’t reek of vomit. Before I go ... you should know I’m still madly in love with Sydney Dupré and will be until the day I die.”
Precious gnawed his pinky toe. He flinched and squatted, rescuing his wee little piggie from her needle teeth. “Earlier, Hayley and I had a little talk.”
“I know. I heard y’all.”
His forehead wrinkled. “I wasn’t sure if I’d overstepped with anything.”
Huh . Was that why he’d seemed off before? “You didn’t overstep.” I fiddled with the blanket, poking my finger through one of the holes. “I’m actually grateful.”
Precious resumed her attack on him, gunning for his big toe. With a reprimand, he again lifted her, his sock snagging on one of her fangs. He gently untangled it. “Maybe you’ll stop doubting your parenting skills now.”
“Maybe.” A huge maybe. Even Julia still questioned her parenting, and her boys were in college. Remembering his conversation with Hayley, my pulse slowed to a dull beat. One thing that there were no maybes about was how badly I’d handled Micah’s mom’s death. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend when your mom died.”
“We were kids.” He straightened, cradling Precious with one arm. “And we weren’t that close.”
“I just...” I shook my head. “I should’ve reached out to you that summer. And then when we returned to school, I didn’t know what to say or do, afraid I’d make you feel worse, so I didn’t do anything. But I prayed for you and your sister and dad.”
“And those prayers were felt.”
“Did you have someone to talk to back then?”
He moved to the love seat, the cushions squishing beneath his weight. “My dad sent me and Renee to a few counseling sessions. But it was too fresh. I mostly sat silent through those meetings, numb.” He placed Precious on the floor and rested his elbows on his knees. “Looking back though, I can see some good that came from it. It set me on a path that summer.”
“How?”
His attention drifted to the coffee table, his gaze distancing a moment. “It was hard to be at home with so many memories of my mom there. I started spending more time at the library. It was free, air-conditioned, and within biking distance. I’d spend all day escaping into fictional worlds. I went so much I got to know the librarian and eventually opened up to her about my mom. I found it easier to talk to her than with a counselor, or to burden my dad or sister.”
I drew in a breath, fascination expanding through me. “It’s why you became a librarian.”
He gave a slow nod, leaning back into the sofa. “I want to be that person for others. Plus, I’ve always loved books, how they open the world to people.”
“Have you helped anyone like you were?”
“Not that I know of. But even if it’s just one, it’ll be worth it.” Precious pawed at his feet, and he bent forward, rubbing her head.
“Based on tonight, I think Hayley could be your one.”
He grew still, a small smile spreading across his handsome face. “Perhaps.” The dog rolled over, exposing her belly. The hussy. He gave one final rub and stood.
I eased up from the couch, my back muscles still on the achy side but thankfully my stomach holding strong, and followed him to the door.
He slipped on his tennis shoes and motioned to where he’d left the spare key on the kitchen counter. A hint of uncertainty darkened his eyes. “Earlier, you wanted to know what happened with my marriage. I was wondering if you’d go next. You know ... with Ryan.”
“Oh.” My mind blanked.
“I mean, not right now. But ... another time.”
I did not want thoughts of Ryan looming over me anymore than they already were with his reemergence. With his goal to crush Claire’s dream location. With his randomly popping up on me like a hormonal pimple. Plus, after the way Micah had reacted to seeing Ryan that day at the café, I could attain a little more insight into that dynamic.
I held up a staying hand and stepped into the hallway, toward Hayley’s closed bathroom door. The sound of running water and her favorite K-pop band emanated. She’d be in there until the last drop of hot water ran out and then move on to drying her hair. Reentering the main room, I motioned for Micah to follow me to the balcony, wanting to put as much distance between the oncoming conversation and Hayley as possible.
While I slipped on my slides, Micah hooked Precious to her leash. He followed me through the living room and out a pair of French doors to the balcony. The mild night air greeted us, along with the light of dusk painting the skies in golden and lavender hues.
Despite the soundproof windows and Hayley’s room on the other side of the house, I led us to the right, to the wrought-iron chairs placed outside the French doors to the guest bedroom. I lowered onto one of the seats, the weather-resistant cushion padding my caboose. After being cooped inside all day, the change of environment brought a lift to my spirits. There was nothing like the scene of the grand live oaks lining the road or the distant figure of an army-green streetcar making its way down the center of St. Charles Avenue.
An intermittent flow of traffic kept the street humming. And with another hour to go before closing, the café below us would still be humming as well. Micah took the other chair, releasing Precious to the planked floor. He flipped a switch on her retractable leash to prevent her from getting too close to the railing. The gaps between the iron posts were the perfect size for her to slip through. Something I’d have to keep in mind, and ensure Hayley understood too.
With another glance back toward the doors, I kept my voice low. “The short story is Ryan didn’t want to adopt Hayley, and there was no way I wasn’t.”
Creases marred his forehead, his gaze heavy and brimming with questions. “If you’re feeling up to it, I’d like the long version.”
A current of wind blew, and the outer branches of the oak trees stirred, as though they were trying to lean in and listen. But it was a tale they knew all too well. One they’d witnessed in those early years with the countless times I’d cried out here after getting Hayley to sleep. Cries full of mourning, exhaustion, fear, loneliness. I pulled in a deep breath of the mossy scent floating on the breeze, thankful to God for His devotion through it all and how I knew He’d carry me through recounting it in this moment.
“Ryan proposed shortly after my grandma’s death, when I was twenty-two. At the time it had felt like a lifeline. A fresh beginning after those years of caregiving.” My hands curled around my middle. “In retrospect, I could kick myself for not realizing his proposal came on the heels of the reading of Mawmaw’s will.” I peeked at Micah. “She left everything to me and Claire.”
His solemn gaze lingered on my face.
I broke the connection, returning my sights to the view before us while my thoughts flickered to the past. Ryan had tried influencing my and Claire’s plans with Mawmaw’s inheritance, but we’d quickly become set on the idea of opening the café. And once we’d opened the restaurant, he’d tried convincing us to open a second location right away that he’d run. But we’d stuck to our carefully made plan.
I swallowed, clearing my throat. “We’d been engaged for over six years when it all happened. I’d buried Claire and her husband, became an instant single parent to a toddler, and somehow kept the café running.” A junker car rumbled past, its music blaring from the open windows, the noise waning with distance. “With all of that happening, Ryan and our approaching wedding shifted to the back of my mind. Until the night we ended things. One month before the ceremony.”
Micah leaned forward, empathy softening his face. If anyone could relate to the loss of a loved one and the unraveling of a deep relationship, it was him.
“In that moment after Ryan left, I could only think of Claire and how relieved I was I wasn’t getting married.” I glanced at my hands, clenched in my lap, and at my bare ring finger, where an engagement ring had once sparkled. “She was supposed to be my matron of honor, and I couldn’t bear to have someone else stand in her place or for her spot next to me to be empty. It would have been excruciating to face that day without her.”
The bell on the café’s door jingled. A moment later, a couple came into view, making their way down the front path, past the open gate to the sidewalk. I blinked away the sting in my eyes and focused on pushing through this piece of my history.
“Ryan moved out of town and handled canceling all of the wedding plans.” I fingered the hem of my shorts. “A small blessing with all of that mess.” A big blessing had been coming to the realization that a huge motivator for him marrying me was my family’s money. But with it all sunk into the café, and then facing Hayley’s adoption, it still wasn’t enough for him. “So instead of wallowing over a broken engagement, I took all the parenting books I’d purchased and compiled a spreadsheet on the milestones of children at each age. Then I tackled researching immunizations and creating vitamin percentage charts.”
His lips curved into a slight smile. “That sounds very you.”
I shrugged. “Over the months and years, I’d checked those items off. Reassuring myself with every completed item, I could continue doing this.”
“And you have.”
Comfort spread through me at his words. In the past month, he’d encouraged me more than my parents had in the last decade. “Only by a miracle.”
“Did anyone try to challenge you on Hayley’s custody?”
I shook my head. “Claire’s will was airtight.” A valuable lesson we’d learned from Mawmaw and how Mama had contested her will. The sky darkened, the streetlights along the neutral ground flickering on.
Micah studied the leash in his grasp, switching it to his other hand. “It’s not my place to say this, but I’m glad you didn’t marry Ryan.”
“You’re not the only one.” I gave a rueful smile. “And I’m not surprised to hear you say that based on the stink eye you shot him last month.”
“Yeah, well...” He ran his hand over his jaw, the stubble bristling. “He was a jerk in high school.”
Ryan must’ve only been a jerk to Micah because as far as I’d known, he was well-liked by everyone. A june bug flew by, popping against the glass on the French doors and falling to the ground. Precious scampered past me to investigate the insect, the leash brushing my legs. “Care to elaborate?”
Micah’s gaze flitted from me to the dog. “He used to talk about you ... in the locker room.”
My jaw unhinged.
“The things y’all did.”
I held up a hand. “Yup. I got that.” Betrayal and embarrassment wound through me. Just when I thought there couldn’t be any other terrible consequences from that relationship. “What a jerk.” I echoed Micah’s previous remark. My pulse pounded, whooshing in my ears. If only I could figure out where he was staying. Or what vehicle he drove. Maybe I’d stuff a banana up his car’s tail pipe. Or break in and stash a few crawfish under his car seat. Though I hated to waste the little guys, especially with crawfish season being so short. But they’d be perfect. Their stench growing each day. Or maybe I’d capture Cést Fou and let him loose in Ryan’s automobile.
“I never understood why you were with him.”
I exhaled a sharp breath, rubbing the Crease. “We all make bad decisions, particularly when we’re young and think we know everything.” I switched to massaging my neck and concentrating on lowering my blood pressure. “In my defense, he wasn’t completely rotten to me back then. He did do some nice things.”
Both of Micah’s brows arched, his head tipping sideways.
“He was kind to my grandma and Claire.” At least, he had been up until Mawmaw’s health decline. “And every single Valentine’s Day he sent me an anonymous carnation through the high school fundraiser.”
Micah snorted. “Did he?”
“He said it was him.”
“I helped run that fundraiser each year. He never made a purchase.” Micah unwrapped Precious’s tangled leash line from around his leg. “But he did take undue credit for a lot of things back then, including one of my history reports that went missing from my backpack senior year.”
Hmm. Though he’d never stolen them from me, Ryan had used countless papers and projects I’d done, recycling my work from previous years. He’d reasoned me into believing it wasn’t a big deal. In college it was simple for him to do since we’d had different professors. And I’d willingly gone along, especially with feeling guilty about Mawmaw’s caregiving taking time away from him. And then there’d been the postcollege internship I’d wanted that he’d ended up with. He’d convinced me it wasn’t a good fit for me. The muscles at the base of my neck began tensing. Instead of a scarlet A , an immense G for gullible should’ve been sewn to my chest back then. At least I’d never let him get his hooks into the café.
“But, hey, people change, right? Maybe he’s turned a new leaf since then.”
I scoffed, thinking of the Ryan of today. Still not apologizing. Not bothering to ask about Hayley. Snooping around my restaurant. Wanting to destroy the Vieux Carré Café. I was certain his leaf had fossilized when he’d broken my heart.