Faith (Rescue Me, A Contemporary Romance) (10 page)

Mac’s parents were long gone and he had no communication with his brothers and sisters. A choice his siblings had made when Mac had struck out for Boston on his own after high school, instead of staying to help with supporting the family farm in Ireland. They’d disowned him then and followed up on it too. They never contacted him again, and he had to hear about the death of his dear mom from a school friend that still lived in the village. It was a blessing he’d kept in contact with the man, because Faith didn’t think Mac would be able to handle the disappointment of reaching out to his mother and finding her in the cemetery.

Yes, family was the most important thing, Faith was realizing. Even if you wanted nothing to do with them.

She was getting closer to her own homecoming now, she realized, starting to recognize the buildings as they slid by outside the car windows.

There was the Piggly Wiggly
where she and Myra had done their shopping. Coming up was the Baptist church where Myra went faithfully every Sunday, and so had Faith when she’d lived with her mother. Faith wondered if she still went every week?

On the corner was the little market that she and her school friends had loitered in and around after school and on weekends. They had felt so grown up and sophisticated, spending time with each other at the store. She wondered about kids – teenagers especially – where did they get these ideas and feelings?

Whoops! Thinking about teenagers took her mind to Emily, and she wanted to stay far away from thoughts of that particular teenager.

Back to the tour. Think about the buildings and the friends Faith, she commanded herself sternly, this is a new start to a new life – the life that Mac had asked you to live on his deathbed – so do not disrespect his memory. You will live.

Coming up was her street. The street she’d lived on for her entire childhood and where her mother lived still – Farewell. The name had an irony to it she always thought. Farewell. Another word for goodbye, as well as a term for good luck. Good bye and good luck. Well, hello and welcome, she thought as she turned left down the familiar street.

And there it was in front of her, coming closer like something out of her dreams. The humble, grey home with its falsely cheery red door and manicured lawn. She’d always wondered about the door. It wasn’t like her mothers personality at all, but she could see that Myra loved the color for some reason. It made her wonder if there was more to her mother than met the eye.

Even after 20 years, she could see that the house had been maintained lovingly. The door was painted impeccably and the house didn’t look as weathered or dilapidated as Faith had always remembered it. In fact, it looked positively homey she thought with surprise.

Liam was sitting straight up and alert in his seat as they drove up the street he would now be calling home. He stared at every house and searched for signs of neighbor kids his age—and now he found himself also searching for signs of trouble or danger. He wondered if that was a good thing or if it was just another aspect of the accident that he would have to get used to over the years. Was this a new addition to his personality?

He could see that his mom was excited and frightened. It would be almost funny to see her acting like a scared teenager; funny that is if he wasn’t a scared teenager himself.

Would the other kids like him? Would they think he was the freaky new kid? Was there any chance people would know about his dad and want to ask him about the details? He didn’t think he’d be able to handle questions from strangers right off the bat. Alaska was a long way from Nashville – chances were pretty good that no one would know anything about it and he wanted to keep it that way as long as he could.

Grandma. Liam turned the word over in his mind. He had never really had a grandma. He’d always wanted one though, but judging from what his mom said and did when her mother’s name was mentioned, he didn’t think that Myra was going to be much of a ‘nana.’ Certainly not like the kindly older women he saw on TV or even at his friend’s houses.

He reached over and took his mom’s hand.

“Gonna be okay mom,” he told her with a little squeeze.

“Thanks.” She smiled at him gratefully and squeezed his hand back as they pulled up to the second to the last house on the corner.

Faith didn’t expect Myra to be waiting for them eagerly, but there she was as soon as the Element pulled into the driveway. Myra. Standing at the open door with an unexpected look on her face. Was that happiness?

“Hi mom,” Faith ventured a greeting as she got out of the car – a little stiffly after driving non-stop almost the whole day.

“Hi…umm…grandma?” Liam offered as he joined his mom on the driveway.

“Hello
!” Myra called from her post at the door.

To Faith’s untrained ear, she sounded a little stiff – like she had been practicing a friendly greeting in front of the mirror – but nonetheless she was grateful to hear it
anyway; grateful that Liam wouldn’t have to feel awkward or slighted by his maternal grandmother.

Not today anyway, she thought cynically.

“Need some help with your bags?” Myra asked as she started toward them.

“No thanks, we’re good,” Faith told her. Feeling awkward about this stiff and somewhat cold reunion between mother, daughter, and grandson. This sure wasn’t the scenario they made greeting cards out of.

“Oh, okay.” Myra replied. “This must be Liam. You’ve sure grown up since the last picture your mom sent me.”

Liam stood there, suddenly feeling strangely guilty about getting taller. He didn’t know what to say so he just grabbed some more things out of the trunk and looked questioningly at his mom.

“Let’s head inside, okay?” Faith said, both to herself and to Myra. God, would this ever get easier? How were they going to live together?

“Oh, yes, of course, absolutely!”

If she didn’t know better she would swear that Myra looked almost nervous but excited at the prospect of showing them where to put their stuff.

The house hadn’t changed much
in the 20 years that Faith had been gone. Although it couldn’t realistically be labeled cozy by any stretch of the imagination, it did have a certain comforting appeal. The couches were a soft blue and the afghans slung over them made Faith crave a chance to curl up in a corner of the couch with a glass of wine and just let her stress melt away for a brief moment. The floors were a worn pine, but covered with bright accent rugs that made you feel okay about walking on them with your bare feet.

A dozen or more pictures crowded the walls and Faith wondered where they’d all come from. Dropping her suitcase on the floor she walked over to the closest wall and leaned in closer to examine the framed photo. She saw Myra standing with a group of women all wearing choir robes. It looked like they were in a park on a bright, sunny day and everyone looked happy to be getting their photo taken at that moment.

“Where was this taken?” She asked her mom curiously.

“That was at the annual church picnic. You remember? We used to go every summer when you were growing up.”

Faith did remember. She had a very clear recollection of some mean girls telling her she was fat and ugly while the adults were busy eating potato salad and gossiping under the trees.

“Yeah, I didn’t like that picnic. Or that church,” she said as an afterthought.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that the Lord wasn’t too your liking,” Myra said stiffly, “But if you and the boy are going to be living under my roof, you will be attending church.”

Liam looked uncomfortable, but at least he was polite enough not to say
anything in response. Faith was grateful for his silence.

“Mac and I didn’t really raise Liam in the church mom,” Faith started to explain, trying to keep her voice respectable and even. “It’s his choice if he wants to attend, but we’re not going to go to church because you command it.”

“Mom!” Liam protested, his face reddening with shame. “It’s okay! I honestly don’t mind checking out the church if grandma wants us to. No big deal, okay. Can we just put our things away now?”

Faith and Myra stared at each other like two dogs who were straining to leap at each other.

Ten minutes, Faith thought, it had taken only ten minutes for her and Myra to be at each other’s throats. Must be some kind of record.

“Let me show you where your room is Liam,” Myra backed off first to show Liam where he would be staying.

As he threw his suitcase on the narrow bed, Liam surveyed his new digs.

Not bad, he thought. A little Southern gothic with the crucifix hanging on the wall and the white lace doilies on every available surface, but overall not too shabby. A far better alternative than living on the streets or in some cramped one-bedroom apartment with his mom stressed out trying to pay the bills.

He wasn’t stupid. He’d heard his mom complaining about the lack of money to their old friends and neighbors, Lisa and Bill, before they left Alaska. His dad hadn’t been too good with money, he figured. At least the old man was bad at something. Was that speaking ill of the dead Liam wondered? It’s just that he had been so loved, it was almost a relief to hear that he didn’t walk on water in every aspect of life.

He didn’t want his mom to mess this up for them. He wanted to get to know his grandma. She didn’t seem so bad. Maybe a little stiff around the edges, but there was something there he thought. She’d seemed pretty happy to see them, and he wanted to make her love him.

For so long it had felt that his mom was the only one really on his side. Sure, his dad had loved him, Liam knew that in his head, but in his heart – where it mattered – he’d never felt all that liked by his dad. He knew he didn’t understand why he preferred drama over football or the chess club over the basketball team. He needed a chance to get some more people on his team, and if Myra, his mom’s mom, was going to be that person, he had to give it a shot. Even if it meant going to church. It was worth it.

“This room is pretty great grandma,” he shouted down the hall. Maybe it was laying it on a little thick, but so what. He wasn’t taking any chances on alienating any other family members this time.

Myra and Faith sat at the kitchen table toying with their wineglasses. Neither one of them had said anything in over fifteen minutes, they just sat in silence and every once in awhile one of them took a small sip of their cabernet.

The grandfather clock bonged loudly in the living room behind them. Nine o’clock. Nine long bongs and then silence again. That clock had ticked off the minutes of Faith’s childhood, she remembered. When she’d moved out after graduation, she hadn’t even wanted to wear a watch – anything to avoid hearing the incessant ticking of a timepiece. She’d called it ‘Big Ben’ to Mac and he’d laughed at her phobia to clocks and teased her about it mercilessly. Yet, here she was, back with Big Ben and Mac was dead and buried. Big Ben will outlive us all, Faith thought mournfully and took a noisy sip of her wine.

“So what are your plans?” Myra asked carefully.

She was painfully aware that she and her daughter had a less than picture perfect relationship, and it was something she had been praying about for a long time. She had been wanting to change things, get to know her girl and her family again, when Faith had called her almost out of the blue asking her if she and Liam could move in with her.

It had been a tragedy what happened to Mac, there was no doubt about it, but every tragedy could have a silver lining. All things work together for good for those who believe in Christ’s love, Myra recited the verse to herself. This was a perfect example.

Of course, now that she had them in her house, she didn’t want to spook her daughter with a lot of questions or pressure. Even if it was innocent, Faith would consider it a sign of her mother’s indifference or worse, anger.

She hadn’t been a great mother to Faith. Myra was self-aware enough to admit the truth, but she wanted to change all that. She sincerely wanted to make amends and be a real mother and grandmother.

She’d been lonely all these years. Watching her friends visit with children and grandchildren, attend school recitals and ballgames, pass around photos of their families. Myra had been feeling jealous about all of it for a long time. She meant to keep her newly restored family close to her, but still, she was curious.

“I don’t know mother.”

Heavy emphasis on ‘mother.’ What was it about this woman that mad
e her revert to her teens, Myra wondered? Was it true of all mothers and daughters or just her and Myra?

“You’ll probably be looking for a job I’d imagine,” Myra pressed on.

“My husband was murdered. I miscarried our baby. I JUST drove from Alaska. Do you think you could cut me some slack?” Faith snapped back.

“Sorry Faith,” Myra backed off quickly. “I don’t want to pressure you. Take all the time you need honey.”

Honey? Faith wondered about that. Her mom wasn’t the sort to use an affectionate term like “honey.”

“Sorry I snapped at you.” Her mother wasn’t the only one who could pretend to be gracious. Faith was open to giving it a shot too.

“It’s okay.”