Summer Breeze (26 page)

To her surprise, Kim laughed. The giggle was natural for once, not the forced chuckle that she so often coughed out for her mother-in-law’s benefit. Miranda rarely spoke about Derek’s father, and neither did her son. It was refreshing to see the woman in such high spirits and eager to chat.

“You know how you marry people for the silliest reasons?” Miranda was saying as she opened a potato chip bag and poured the contents into a large bowl. “Oh, that Eric Finley was handsome! Curly hair, blue-gray eyes, and a wonderful physique. If I’d given it two thoughts, I would have realized that his tan and all those muscles came from trekking up and down mountains or wandering through deserts. But I thought he was gorgeous. So romantic! And a photographer, too!”

“He does sound handsome,” Kim said.

“To die for. In my fairy-tale vision, Eric and I were going to travel the world together, hitchhiking from one adventure to another. Then we got married, and I got pregnant—well, actually the other way around—and off he went without me. It turned out the magazines he freelanced for didn’t pay for wives and babies to tag along. Worse, he didn’t want company on his assignments, especially not a child. But he came from a wealthy family, and so we didn’t lack for money. A handsome, absentee husband; a darling little boy; and enough to live on comfortably forever.”

Kim had found spoons for the ice cream and was trying to figure out how to get the double cakes out the sliding glass door to the deck. But at the same time, she wanted to listen to Miranda. Instead of harping about Kim’s choice of curtains or hinting at her failures as a mother, the woman was actually conversing.

“Derek works long hours, but he’s never gone overnight,” Kim said as she arranged the birthday things on a tray. “Weren’t you lonely?”

“Of course I was. In those early days of marriage, it was always Eric and Derek. Derek and Eric. And then just Derek. And finally no one at all. But money can do a lot to make up for loneliness.” She shrugged. “Until I came down here, I thought that’s how my existence had to be. But look—it turned out all right in the end.”

“This is not the end,” Kim said. “You have so much life still ahead.”

Miranda paused for a moment. “Don’t start me thinking about that,” she said softly. “I’m focused on waiting until I can pass through this life into a new form of being.”

“You’re waiting to die?”

“To be reincarnated.” Miranda seemed to sag as she leaned against the kitchen counter. “And please don’t attack me the way that Hansen girl did at the TLC meeting the other day. If I were a Christian, all I’d have to look forward to is an eternity playing a harp and wearing a pair of angel wings. No thanks. I’ll hedge my bets and keep the doors open. If I’m right about reincarnation, there’s hope for a better future for me. Maybe I’ll be a … a cat!”

At that, she winked at Kim and began to laugh. Sweeping up the cartons of ice cream Kim had just opened, Miranda headed for the door. “Oh, wouldn’t I love to lie in the sun all day and bask away the hours! How lovely to be a cat!”

As Kim picked up the cake tray, she wondered how that existence would be so different from the one Miranda already enjoyed. Money. Leisure. Even a family to keep you busy—or ignore—at your whim.

But there was no time to work up any frustration toward Miranda, whose concept of heaven was so far off the biblical mark as to be laughable. Instead of resenting her mother-in-law, Kim would find compassion for her.

Despite her privileged life, Miranda obviously regretted some of her choices. She had been lonely and self-absorbed for many years. No wonder she was hard to live with. Without the Bible as a guide and the church to provide a support system in good times and bad, Miranda had learned to rely on herself and her own philosophies.

“Did I hear Miranda say something about a cat?” Esther Moore asked as she stepped into the kitchen. “I ought to warn you—your house is already very full, dear. Though Boofer is a joy, that dog takes up so much of our time. I hope you haven’t gone and gotten a pet for the twins’ birthday.”

Kim laughed. “No pets—but we do have Miranda, who’s hoping to be reincarnated as a cat.”

“A cat?” Esther picked up two bowls of chips. “Goodness, not me. I’m looking forward to heaven. In fact, I can hardly wait. I won’t have all these aches and pains, and I’ll be able to hold my sister’s hand and skip through the grass like we did when we were kids. Charlie says he’s planning to sing in the heavenly choir, but I have too many people I want to visit.”

At the thought of Charlie raising his voice in praise to the Lord and Esther chatting with friends and family, Kim smiled. She lifted her focus toward the sky as she stepped onto the deck with the cake. How comforting it was to know she didn’t need to fear being reincarnated as a cat or a bug or even another human.

When she set the cake down on the table, Kim’s eyes fell on her husband, who had just arrived. Still in uniform, Derek was speaking with his mother and obviously getting a tongue-lashing for showing up nearly an hour after the end of his shift. Kim sighed. Well, if Derek could put up with Miranda, why couldn’t she?

“I’m going home.”

The words were spoken so near Kim’s ear that she jumped in surprise. She looked around to find Cody Goss leaning over her shoulder as she straightened the candles on the two cakes.

“Eleven,” he said, reading the numerals. “Luke and Lydia are eleven years old, and that’s why you made them an
eleven
cake. I never had a birthday cake. I don’t know how old I am except more than twenty-one. Do you think my aunt will make me a
more than twenty-one
cake?”

“Maybe she will, Cody. Just ask her when you get there.”

“I’ve missed a lot of cakes. If today was my birthday, I would have chocolate cake cut into squares. These cakes will be easy to cut into squares.”

Kim straightened and gazed into the earnest blue eyes. “Cody, would you like to share these cakes with Luke and Lydia? They’re so used to sharing everything, I know they wouldn’t mind.”

“Does that mean I’m eleven too?”

“No … but it does mean you get to eat chocolate cake in squares.”

Cody’s lips parted over his white teeth as he smiled. “I like that. I hope my aunt is just like you.”

“No matter what she’s like, she’ll be so proud of you. I know that for certain. You’ve become such a smart, capable young man.”

“Excuse me there, Cody,” Derek said, tapping him on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in? I need to talk to Kim for a minute.”

“Okay,” Cody mumbled, his shoulders sagging. “But I was hoping we could cut those two cakes. I want to eat some, because they’re partly mine.”

“No, they’re not!” Miranda Finley sashayed up to the table bearing a third cake in her hands. “This is
your
cake, Cody! I ordered it especially for your going-away party. It’s an ice cream cake. I’ve had it hidden in Esther’s freezer for several days now. A secret surprise, just for you!”

She set the elaborately decorated round cake next to the fudge frosted cakes that Kim had proudly created for her twins. Miranda’s cake flaunted gleaming white icing in professional scallops and swirls, a road drawn in gray icing with a yellow stripe down the center, and a miniature toy bus traveling along it. Elaborately scripted letters read
Farewell, Cody!

The young man gaped at the cake for a moment; then he read the inscription out loud. “
Farewell, Cody!
That means me, because I’m Cody. This is my first birthday cake ever in my whole life.”

Miranda touched his arm. “Honey, it’s not a—”

“I wonder how old I am,” Cody continued. He studied the table for a moment. Then pointing to the three cakes, he said, “One-one-zero. I am 11 0 years old. Wow!”

As the crowd laughed, Charlie Moore slung his arm around Cody’s shoulders. “Come on, then, you old turkey buzzard. Step back and let the twins blow out their candles so we can dig in. That ice cream’s already melting, and I’m hungry.”

Kim’s heart welled with emotion as Derek lit the candles. Luke and Lydia grinned happily while everyone sang “Happy Birthday.” And then—with Cody joining in—they blew out the flames. Esther and Miranda moved in to cut cake and dip ice cream while Brenda Hansen poured glasses of punch.

“Kim?” Derek slipped a hand around his wife’s elbow. “Can we step over here to the side for just a minute? I need to talk to you.”

Concerned, she nodded and accompanied him to a bench at the far corner of the deck away from the hubbub of cake, candles, and gifts. “What’s wrong, Derek?” she asked. “Did something happen at work?”

“No, it’s not that.” He laced his fingers together and rested his elbows on his thighs, his focus on the deck between his boots. “Well … it’s about my mother.”

“You know she’s hoping to be reincarnated as a cat,” Kim teased.

Derek glanced up, and for a moment his sober expression softened. “With our luck, she’ll come back as a tiger—claws and all.” He shook his head. “Listen, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this, and Mom knows I’m putting it off. She asked me to talk to you today, before the party. I planned to come home right after work, but this morning, we finally got the facial reconstruction on our drowning victim. We’ve been printing flyers, talking to the media, and trying to get the word out so if anyone has seen her—”

“Derek,” Kim cut in, “I know your mother isn’t planning to go back to St. Louis when school starts. If that’s what you wanted to tell me, I already know. I heard what Lydia—”

“She wasn’t supposed to tell you,” he ground out. “That ornery kid.”

“It’s not Lydia’s fault. I was on my way out to the porch that evening when you were talking with her. I overheard you tell her about Miranda.”

“You knew? All this time?”

“Yes, and I’ve been pretty upset that you told our daughter before you told me. Why did you do that? Are you afraid to talk to me? Do you see me as a tiger too?”

He fell silent.

“I guess that answers my question,” she said, a mixture of hurt and frustration bubbling inside her. “No matter what you think about me, I deserved to hear the truth, Derek.”

“I’m telling you right now.”

“Here? In the middle of the twins’ birthday party?”

“I’ve kept it from you as long as I could, but it’s now or never. You know Mom is leaving for St. Louis tomorrow—taking Cody to the bus station. While she’s there, she plans to hire packers, rent a storage unit, and put her house on the market. She wants to stay here permanently.”

Despite her best intentions, Kim felt her anger flare. “
She
wants to stay? I thought it was your idea.”

“It is. Partly.” His head dropped lower. “There are things you don’t know, Kim. Things I should have told you a long time ago.”

“Derek, this is the twins’ birthday party! What’s wrong with you? You have no idea how to talk or listen or anything! How can you do this?”

She could see the muscle in his jaw flickering. “I’m sorry I’m not exactly like you, Kim. I don’t talk easily. I prefer to take care of today, handle situations as they arise. It’s one day at a time with me, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay. Not when it affects your family. You’d better start talking—and I mean
now
.”

“I’d rather wait until after the party.”

“Now,”
she repeated.

“All right,” he groused. “Here’s the deal. You know I love my mother, and I want to take care of her. But I never planned to have her live with us.
She
decided that, and I can’t say no.”

“Why not? Miranda has caused so much tension in the house. Of course she’s been helpful with the kids, but she’s also upset our whole family structure. It’s all I can do to keep my spirits up when she’s always on me about things. She’s given both of the kids a hard time with her crazy ideas, and she’s horribly permissive. She flaunts our rules—the computer, the bicycles, swimming, you name it. She criticizes almost everything about me—from my curtain fabric to the way I cook. Worst of all, she mocks our faith. You know how hard this summer has been for all of us, and I can’t believe you would let her have her way in this. Especially if it’s not what you really want.”

“I have to, Kim. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

“Why? You’re a grown man. You’re the strongest, bravest human being I’ve ever met. How can you let your mother walk all over you?”

“She’s not walking on me. She holds me by a leash.”

“What kind of a leash? What are you saying, Derek?”

“Money.” He spat out the word. “It’s all about money, okay?”

“What do you mean?”

He covered his eyes with a hand and rubbed his temples. “We should wait to talk about this.”

“Derek, please.”

He let out a hot breath. “Look, there’s a part of my life I never told you about. I didn’t want to believe it mattered. It happened in the past, and I decided I couldn’t let it affect us. Affect
you
.”

Kim’s heart sank. “Oh no,” she whispered. “What happened?”

“It started when I was in college. I racked up a fair amount of debt for tuition, housing, and all that. But there’s more. I used to … to gamble, okay? The riverboat casinos. You know they line the river in St. Louis, and I’d go there with friends—just for fun. Then I began going by myself. Every day. Every night.”

“Derek.” She wanted to reach out to him, but she couldn’t move.

“I don’t know how to explain this, but sitting at the poker table was the only place I felt comfortable. No one demanded anything of me there. I didn’t have to be the son of the late, great, world-renowned photographer, Eric Finley. I didn’t have to live up to my mother’s dreams and expectations for me. I knew I was destroying myself, but for some reason gambling gave me a feeling of security. False security. I figured if I won, I could have the good things in life without having to work for it or inherit it. The bottom line was that I didn’t want to grow up, and I thought I could escape responsibility—to the point that it became an obsession.”

“This is impossible,” Kim murmured.

“It’s not impossible. It’s true. I barely graduated from college. I spent money hand over fist—always sure I was going to strike it rich. The next big jackpot was just waiting for me. I told myself I had a safeguard. My father’s dough would bail me out, and it did. But it came with a price. I ended up owing my mother so much money I’ll never be able to pay it back. She holds my debt over my head because she believes that keeps me from relapsing. She’s wrong, but I can’t convince her of that. My senior year of college, I started going to Gamblers Anonymous. Went to meetings more often than you’ve ever been to church. You want to talk about a higher power? I’ve got one, and her name is Miranda Finley.”