Soaring (15 page)

Chapter Six

Neither Replied

At three-thirty the Friday my children were to come back to me, I was ready.

Mickey’s words about how his ex-wife let their kids get away with anything because she was making up for her weaknesses had not been lost on me.

They’d had their first visit to settle in. Whether they did or didn’t, that was their choice (though, since they were hardly there, I knew they didn’t).

Now it was time to share that this was their home, I was their mother, we were a family and things were going to be a certain way.

So when I stood in the open front door watching the red Civic roll up, I was prepared to face my children and forge ahead with the healing.

The approach to the house went exactly the same way as the first one did. The kids grabbing their bags. Me greeting them. Pippa not looking at me. Auden barely paying me mind.

I let them in and closed the door behind us.

Although both of them stared with surprise into the very changed great room, they did this as they headed straight to their rooms.

I drew in courage on a deep breath and crossed my arms on the exhale.

“Hang on a second, kiddos,” I called.

They stopped and turned to me almost at the mouth to the hall.

I looked between them and laid it out as I’d practiced.

“Okay, just to say, if you have plans this evening with your friends, I don’t want to make you change those plans at the last minute. So I’ll allow you to go out if that’s what you intend to do.”

Auden’s lip curled. Olympia’s face grew hard and she looked to the floor.

“Tomorrow,” I forged on, “we’re having a family dinner. If you have plans through that, you need to change them. You may do what you wish during the day and after dinner, but we’re eating together. Now I’ll say that, but I’ll also say that eventually I’d like to meet your new friends, so I’d like you to think on having them around. And I’ll also say that I don’t get a lot of time with you. I miss you when you’re gone. I think about you all the time. So when I do have you, I’d like to
have
you. That means after this weekend, I’ll ask you to plan to be with me when you’re with me and not make arrangements to be out doing something else.”

That got me Pippa’s eyes, which were slits, and Auden glared at me.

“If it’s something special or something you don’t want to miss,” I said softy. “Obviously, I’ll want you to do it. But if it’s not, I want you to be with me.”

Pippa hitched a hip, threw out a foot slightly and crossed her arms on her chest, looking to the sectional.

Auden continued glaring at me.

“On Sunday,” I kept going, “I’m going to an estate auction.” I threw an arm out toward the living room. “As I texted you and now you can see, I sold most of our old stuff to raise money for the town’s junior boxing league. Fresh town for me, fresh start in a lot of ways, including, I hope, with you two.”

I paused, watching them closely, but neither of them gave me anything, though Pippa did aim her eyes to the sea.

So I had no choice but to keep at it.

“I’m going with a new friend of mine, Josie. She’s very sweet. I’d like you to meet her. I’ve never been to an auction but it might be fun. And there’s a lot to do to make this house a home and I’d be very,
very
happy if you’d participate in that with me.”

Neither of them said anything.

I drew in another breath and powered ahead.

“I’ve unpacked your rooms. I’ve also gone through your things. This weekend, I’d like you to go through the piles I’ve made of stuff you might no longer be able to use or want. If you can’t use it or don’t want it, it can be put to good use elsewhere. But if you want it, I want you to have it. So just sort that for me, putting away what you want to keep, putting what you don’t in one of the extra rooms, and I’ll deal with it for you. And Pippa,” I called. Her eyes came to me and I smiled at my baby girl. “I have a surprise for you in your room. I hope you like it.”

She said nothing.

I had nothing more to say.

My children and I stood, fifteen feet between us, thousands of miles separating us, and we did this silently.

Finally, Auden spoke, “Are you done?”

His words and tone cut deep and I felt the bleed.

“Yes,” I replied. “Except to say, I made cinnamon oatmeal cookies. They’re in the tin on the counter. You can help yourself.”

Auden ignored that, even though those were particular favorites of his, and instead told me, “We both got plans.”

I licked my lips and pressed them together as I nodded.

“So, if you’re done with this, can we do that?” he asked nastily.

“As I said, honey, you can. But I want you home for dinner tomorrow night,” I told him.

“Whatever,” he muttered, starting to turn, Pippa moving with him.

“Not whatever,” I called and did it firmly, getting their attention again. “I mean that, kids. I want you home tomorrow night for dinner.”

“We gotta, we’ll be here,” Auden snapped.

It wasn’t much, but I’d take it.

I looked to Pippa.

“Sweets?” I asked.

“Gotta do it, I’ll do it,” she mumbled.

That was the same, I’d still take it.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

Pippa looked to her brother and rolled her eyes.

Auden looked to his sister and shook his head.

They both then delayed no further and disappeared down the hall.

Not long after, they reappeared.

But only so they could leave.

* * * * *

The next night, I made dinner, one of their favorites, prime roast of beef with my fresh-made horseradish sauce, scalloped potatoes, haricots verts and homemade rolls. I topped all this with one of Olympia’s favorites, my decadently moist carrot cake with its thick cream cheese frosting.

I had plenty of time to do this considering both my children left very early for a teenage Saturday and didn’t reappear until they arrived, precisely timed, thus meticulously planned, so neither of them had to be with me alone, at six o’clock.

Since I hadn’t yet replaced the dining room table, we ate off my new dishes, sitting on the sectional.

Conversation was stilted, mostly muttered complaints that our dining room table was gone as was an end table so they had to lean to the floor to grab their drinks.

They still sat with me and I took that, telling myself it was progress, minor progress but at least it was something.

After, when I’d hoped they’d lounge on the sectional with me and watch a movie on our new, huge, expensive, all-the-bells-and-whistles TV, they in unison took their plates to the sink and began to head to their rooms.

“Kids,” I called, slowing their progress but not stopping it entirely. “I cooked,” I carried on. “I think it’s fair you clean.”

“We’ll do it later,” Auden replied before being swallowed by the darkness of the hall.

Pippa said nothing, just disappeared.

I fought the urge to refill my wineglass.

Instead, I got a book and didn’t read. I just sat on my sectional, the book held open in front of me, and waited for them to come out and again leave the house.

They didn’t.

This surprised me.

Surprised me and made me hope.

If they were going to stay, maybe I could convince them to do it with me while watching a movie. I’d take surly and I’d endure it, telling myself it wouldn’t be hard since I’d take it while all our attention was diverted with a movie.

In order to make this attempt, I put my book aside, climbed the stairs from the sunken living room and headed down the hall.

Their doors were open. Their lights were on.

And I wasn’t even at the door to Pippa’s room before I heard her talking.

At her tone, which was snide, I stopped and listened.

“…have to wear sunglasses, this comforter is
so
bright and
so
butt ugly. I cannot
imagine
why she dumped my other stuff and got me
this
. I
hate
it. She’s
so incredibly crazy
.”

My feet moving for me, taking me in the opposite direction to where I wanted to go, they positioned me in the frame of her door.

My beautiful little girl, growing into a big one, noticed the movement there, her head jerked my way, and her eyes,
my
eyes, came right to me.

They rounded in horror.

They melted in dismay.

Then they instantly hardened in ire.

“Listen much?” she snapped.

“Don’t forget the dishes, baby,” I whispered.

She glared.

I reached in, caught the handle, and closed the door.

My innards tattered and dripping, my feet moved me to my son’s room and he, too, was talking.

I didn’t bother to eavesdrop. I leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and watched him pace his room. His back and alternately side my way, he didn’t notice me.

“…
everything
, Dad, she sold
everything
. Our whole house, she sold
all of it
. Says she did it for
charity
. Totally crawling up the butts of
everybody in town
. Probably because she wants the town not to think she’s a complete whackjob. But she did it selling
our whole house
for some freaking
junior boxing league
. Like she gives a crap about junior boxing. She doesn’t give a crap about
anything
, and obviously not our
home
because she got rid of
everything
.”

He jumped when he caught my movement in his peripheral vision as I leaned forward and grabbed his door handle.

His eyes came to me, his face paled and went slack, and I held his gaze, mine watery, as I closed his door.

I went directly to my room and closed mine.

Then I went right to my fabulous daybed that sat on its thick pebbled rug by my gorgeous freestanding fireplace and I sat on it, back to the side, knees to my chest, arms around my calves, eyes across the room to the sun setting on the sea.

My children hated me.

They
hated
me.

It took everything I had, absolutely everything, but when I burst out crying, I did it silently.

* * * * *

The next morning, I woke up to dirty dishes.

I made coffee, cleaned them, poured a cup of java, then went back to my room, showered and got ready to face the day.

I came out and went down the opposite hall.

I knocked loudly on Pippa’s door, didn’t open it and called through it, “I need you up, Olympia. In the kitchen. I want a word. Now.”

I walked down and did the same with Auden.

I went to the kitchen, prepared a travel mug and waited.

Sleepy, in their pajamas, looking cute and young and beautiful, my children came out and positioned themselves cautiously opposite the bar to me.

Neither of them met my eyes.

In their words, “whatever.”

“As it’s doubtful you wish to go to the auction with Josie and me, and I need to leave imminently, I’ll be doing that. Since I won’t be home, and you’ve made it clear neither of you wish to be here, there’s no reason for you to remain here while I’m gone. You may go home to your dad’s.”

Both their eyes widened and Pippa looked to Auden but Auden turned his wary gaze to me.

“Before you go, I’d like you to tidy your rooms, make your beds and please go through those piles as I asked. If you don’t, I’ll assume you don’t want any of those things and I’ll donate them to charity.” I looked to my daughter. “And if you truly don’t like your new bedclothes, your old ones are in the first guest bedroom. Just grab them and put them in your room. I’ll switch them out and deal with the new.”

I drew in breath, went to the counter, shoved my phone in my purse and hooked it over my shoulder.

As I did this, neither of my kids said anything.

I moved beyond the counter and stopped, turning back to them.

“I made grave mistakes,” I whispered and watched both their bodies lock. “I know this. I’ve admitted it. I’ve come here not to continue to do that but to get my family back. You’re my children and I love you. I love you more than anything. I love you more than my own life. I failed you and I intend to rectify that. I understand your anger. I don’t blame you for having it. All I ask is that you give me a chance. One last chance to show you that I’m sorry, to give you back the mom you love. The mom you want to be a part of your life. Because there is nothing in mine I want more than having you in it.”

They said nothing.

I took that too with a nod and finished it.

“I love you, honeys. Have a good day, take the cookies with you and I’ll see you in a month.”

And with that, I left.

* * * * *

Although Josie kindly didn’t comment on the fact I arrived at the auction without my children, it was still awkward.

But it was not the worst part of my day.

That had already happened.

In a different frame of mind, I would have enjoyed the auction.

Regardless of the fact that I was barely capable of functioning, I still found and bought a fabulous set of furniture—including a high-button-backed, leather rolling chair and a baronial desk—that would be perfect for the back room.

Not only that, I found a whimsical bedroom set that I bought for the guest bedroom. I’d need mattresses, but I envisioned a fanciful, beachy room that would give any guests I might eventually have (though few and far between, the only prospect being my brother and his family, only three of the four of them I’d actually want in my home) a tranquil, but exceedingly pretty, place to call their home away from home.

I arrived back at Cliff Blue at just after three, a couple of hours before my kids were supposed to leave me.

I also arrived back at an empty house.

They’d left the cookies.

They hadn’t gone through their piles of stuff.

But Olympia had not put her old bed things back in her room.

I texted them both to make certain they were good with me donating their things and added on Pippa’s that she wanted to keep her new linens.