Chapter Thirty-One #2
“Seriously? You started that after-school tutoring service when you found out there were a few kids in my class who were struggling to read. And you started that read-aloud-to-little-kids thing that you do. When Ned and I were in school, you organized . . . everything. Easter egg hunts and Christmas parties where all the kids brought presents to give to the local toy drive. You went to a bunch of businesses and got them to contribute to a scholarship for the Kelly kids when their parents were so badly injured in that car wreck. Mom, you are the queen of organizing. You look for work. I’ve never heard you question if something could be done. You just do it.”
“Except for taking over the camp,” Kit reminded her. “I’m still not sure how we’re going to pull this off.”
“A little skepticism is a good thing, Grampa used to say.”
Kit smiled and nodded. “It keeps you on your toes.” She repeated one of her father’s favorite sayings.
Abby fumbled in her purse for a moment. “And a bunch of guys offered to come help fix ’er up, see?
” She handed Kit a stack of business cards.
“Plumbers, carpenters, electricians. And somewhere I have the name of a guy who said he’d be our handyman and could check out the boats and stuff to make sure they’re in good shape. I did good, right?”
Kit sighed. Abby was so pleased with herself for having possibly solved some of their contractor needs.
Notwithstanding the number of trades who’d left their names and numbers on voicemails, Kit now had a growing list of people to check out should they be needed—and of course, sooner or later, they’d all be needed.
“Chief Hal is such a nice man. I still think he’s a little sweet on you, Mama.” Abby whispered as if he were in the next room and she was afraid of being overheard.
“I’m not divorced yet, Abby, and I think he might be a little young for me.”
“He doesn’t look younger. Oh, and I met your Mr. Banks today.” She giggled. “I mean, Banks. It’s so funny everyone knows him only by his last name. I was tempted to ask him if he had a first name, but I didn’t want to be rude.”
“Heaven forbid,” Kit murmured. “And it’s Jeremy. When did you meet him? Not at the bar, I hope.”
“No, no. I can’t even imagine him there, it’s so not his sort of place. I met him at Ruthie’s, when I was leaving. He was walking in when Elly and I were getting ready to leave after lunch. Mom, the lobster rolls were to die for.” She closed her eyes as if remembering them. “The best I ever ate.”
“Did you talk to him?”
“Did I talk to who?”
“Banks.”
“Well, of course. Elly introduced us but he said he’d have known me anywhere. Wasn’t that sweet? He said I had my grandma’s smile. And he’d know because he went to school with Nana. And he knew Maxine. Well, of course you know that since he’s the one who contacted you in the first place.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope. Oh, he did ask me if you’d decided to retain ownership of the camp and stay here in Tolerance. I said I was pretty sure you were and he said for you to call him.”
“I did call him. His daughter said he was out of the office visiting an elderly cousin.”
“He was out of the office. He was at Ruthie’s.”
“She said he was visiting an elderly cousin.”
“Banks has an elderly cousin? If he’s any more elderly than Banks, he must be ancient.” Abby stifled a yawn.
“Go to bed, Abby.” Kit stood up and stretched. She returned the book she’d started reading before she nodded off. “Benny’s in your bed, by the way.”
“Okay, thanks. See you in the morning.” Abby leaned over and kissed Kit on the cheek.
“Sweet dreams, Abs.” Kit put her arm around her daughter and held her there for a moment.
“Mom, even if I found out that Aunt Beth was my mom, you’d still be my mom. I’d always want you to be my mom, no matter what.”
“Thank you, Abby. I think.” Kit gave Abby a pat on the back, then released her.
While Abby headed for the stairwell, Kit checked to make sure the doors were all locked and turned off all the downstairs lights. Doing all the mom things to make sure her family was safe before she turned in.
As she climbed the steps, she mulled over Abby’s words: Even if I found out that Aunt Beth was my mom, you’d still be my mom.
Obviously Abby had been projecting herself into Kit’s situation, the which sister is my mother conversation she’d had with Beth. Nice to know that she’d still be her daughter’s number-one choice.
Kit lay awake thinking back on her conversation with Abby.
Funny, the things kids remembered from their childhoods and the things that made an impression on them.
And funny, too, how she’d forgotten so many of the things she used to do to fill the hours when the kids were in school.
No question, Kit had enjoyed having time to spend on those things that mattered to her.
That she’d been free to pursue the activities that gave her the most pleasure and hadn’t had to worry about contributing financially to their family was a direct result of all the hard work Russ had put into his education and his early jobs.
In high school he’d worked two jobs every summer, and in college, he’d worked three to pay his tuition and expenses.
He’d eaten his meals and lived at home and walked or rode his bike everywhere because he couldn’t afford a car.
Remembering all he’d gone through to get an education shamed her when she thought back to how she’d been so nonchalant about the monthlong trip to Europe her parents had paid for.
She stared up at the ceiling and tried to recall if she’d ever thanked him—really thanked him—for the life he’d permitted her to have.
The life he’d worked so hard to give her and their kids.
She should have been more mindful of the sacrifices he’d made, more aware of all he’d done so she could live in that lovely home and drive a new car every five years and have wonderful holidays for the kids, no worries about how much she spent on presents or sports camps for both kids, ballet as well for Abby, a private lacrosse coach for Ned.
She’d just accepted it, because she was raised to have all those things.
But Russ had not been, and it was to his credit that he never admonished her for how much she spent or the fact that she did have a degree in library science and should probably think about getting a paying job, which she did, once the kids were in middle school.
She had loved her time at home when the kids were little, and he’d never questioned that.
None of which excused his recent behavior, but still . . .
“Wherever you are, Russ, I hope you are having the time of your life.”