Summer Breeze (31 page)

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Authors: Catherine Palmer

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Stung, Kim thought of all the meals she had cooked, all the laundry she had done, all the times she had purposely included Miranda in family activities—not only trying to make her feel welcome and comfortable but actually providing for the ungrateful woman’s basic needs. How dare Miranda say they treated her like a cockroach? That was ridiculous!

Fighting the urge to lash out or retreat into the air-conditioned house, Kim took another long drink of her cold lemonade.

“I see that you really believe we resent your presence in the house,” she said. “You must think that Derek’s decision to throw away your religious items is evidence of that.”

“It most certainly is!” Miranda barked. “My son is an intelligent man, and he knew very well how much those things meant to me. That altar was my place to meditate and reflect on my life. It was the only way I had found to reach out and touch my inner divinity.”

“Your soul?” Kim queried, hoping she had chosen the right word.

“Well, that shows just how much you understand! The soul is a Christian concept—something that lets you believe in an afterlife instead of reincarnation. The spirit of divinity, the essence of the Creator, a spark of holiness lies within every thing and every person in this world. My collection of crystals and my dream catcher were ways to receive and conserve that celestial energy. Now the box where I kept my most precious crystals is at the bottom of the lake. Buddha and my other images helped me to meditate on the things they stood for and the truths they taught. Now they’re in the lake too. You think it’s all about Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, but let me assure you that your narrow-mindedness keeps you from the self-actualization and self-completion available to you through other spiritual paths.”

Though Kim was trying her best to hear Miranda out, she couldn’t come anywhere near agreement. Countless arguments filtered through her mind. But Kim knew that if she was ever to gain her mother-in-law’s trust, she had to begin with a relationship of mutual respect. Shouting their opposing beliefs back and forth at each other would get them nowhere. So Kim swallowed hard and cast out her fishing line one more time.

“I can see how hurt you are,” she said as gently as she could. “Some of the things we’ve said have really wounded you. What Derek did the other night must have felt as though your own son had purposely injured you.”

To Kim’s surprise, she noticed that Miranda’s lower lip was trembling. It wasn’t much of a sign, but it showed that Kim’s words had found their mark. And maybe, just maybe, she was close to hooking and reeling in the object of this fishing expedition: her mother-in-law’s acceptance.

“Miranda, may I please tell you how sorry I am?” Kim murmured. “You came here at a time when Derek and I had run out of options, and you’ve done a great job with the twins. I apologize that you haven’t felt our appreciation.”

“No, I definitely have not.”

“And you’re right to be upset about what Derek did the other night. He shouldn’t have thrown away your possessions. If I can explain …” Kim paused and took a deep breath. “You see, just a few days ago, Derek finally told me about his problems from the past. I had no idea he belonged to Gamblers Anonymous or that he owed you such a large sum of money. We’ve been trying to work our way through that issue, and during an intense moment, he reacted strongly. I bear as much of the blame as he does, because I didn’t stop him. I should have. I wouldn’t want my Bible thrown into the lake, and I ought to have considered how you would feel. Please forgive me, Miranda. And the twins, too. We’ve been insensitive. I know Derek would say the same thing if he were here.”

When she had finished speaking, Kim leaned back in her chair and pressed the cool glass of lemonade to her cheeks and forehead. This had been an awful experience, she realized. She had hurt Miranda, and her words hadn’t helped the situation a bit. She ought to just go inside and start fixing dinner. Maybe something would eventually come of the effort she had made, but clearly her mother-in-law had lapsed into angry silence again.

As Kim prepared to stand, she glanced at Miranda. And that’s when she realized the trickle running down the woman’s bronze cheek wasn’t perspiration. It was a tear.

“I didn’t want to come, you know,” Miranda said in a quavering voice. “When Derek told me about Luke, I didn’t even consider doing anything about it. I felt sorry for him, of course, but he wasn’t my
real
grandson, and I didn’t believe that I had any responsibility toward him. But then I thought about it some more—about how deeply Luke’s diagnosis had distressed Derek and how hard my poor son was having to work to make ends meet and how you might have to quit your job to take care of Luke—which would put an even greater burden on Derek. So one day I called and offered to help. I expected to stay only a couple of weeks. At the most I would be here until school started. But then … then Luke and Lydia became … they somehow became important to me. I enjoyed shopping with Lydia. Since I’d never had a daughter, I didn’t know what to expect of her. But we’ve had so much fun together. And Luke, well, he’s such a sweet little guy. When he had that crisis on the Fourth of July …”

At this, Miranda stopped speaking and began to sob softly. Kim stared at the sleek, suntanned creature in her white bikini. For a moment, she simply couldn’t reconcile her image of Miranda—that vile, heathenish dragon worthy of nothing better than to be slain with the sword of truth—with this weeping, tenderhearted woman.

Before Kim could speak, Miranda held up a hand and continued. “I realized that I truly love those two children. I enjoy being a part of a family again too. It’s been so many years since Eric died. And since Derek left me. I sincerely believed I was helping my son’s family. I tried to offer ideas for improving things around the house and making life easier. I brought in bouquets of roses, because I know every home needs fresh flowers, and you certainly don’t have the time or the interest to decorate things properly. I tried to introduce new foods—like my spinach-Parmesan pizza and my seven-layer dip. I even thought of suggesting a different curtain fabric to bring harmony into the living area and make it more comforting for all of us. But everything I offered was rejected. Thrown back in my face, as though I’d done something terribly offensive.”

By now Miranda was blotting her cheeks with her beach towel. Kim sat stone still, appalled at how her own behavior had so deeply hurt her mother-in-law. All this time, she had been looking at her children, her marriage, and her life from her own perspective. She had resented Miranda’s presence and had made that obvious from the first day. Was that how a Christian was supposed to act? Would Jesus have done the same?

“You know, I gave up my friends,” Miranda was saying now, gulping out the words between sobs, “and the country club and all the high-end stores I loved and the good restaurants. … Well, I gave up everything. I even put my house on the market. And then I found out that no one cares at all about my sacrifices. It’s worse than that. … Not even my son … my beloved Derek … cares enough about me to respect my beliefs. I see now that I’ve lost everything, including my only child.”

“Oh, Miranda—” Kim began to speak, but an upturned hand silenced her again.

“You think I’m cruel to keep him in my debt. I can see the resentment in your eyes. But you weren’t there when he came home drunk and desperate and frightened for his life. You have no idea what I went through—trying to get him into treatment, pay off his creditors, keep him clean, get him through college. Do you know that your husband can’t ever invest in the stock market? He can’t buy commodities or options. He can never play the lottery. He shouldn’t even flip a coin! You think I’m exaggerating, but I went to Gam-Anon meetings. For years I thought I had to keep him locked up or he’d fall right back into it. Do you see that? Do you get it at all?”

“I’m trying,” Kim said. “But now?”

“Now I’m not sure. I’m just getting to know him all over again.”

“I can understand that.”

“I know how deeply I’m resented here,” Miranda said. “But I want you to realize that I’ve done my best to become a part of this community. I helped Cody find his aunt, and I joined the TLC in planning the Fourth of July barbecue, and I’ve even started a little business to sell Ashley Hanes’s beadwork. Luke helped me on the computer, and we made business cards and order forms. Lydia and I bought sample boxes for the beads. I’ve contacted my friends in St. Louis, and they’re buying necklaces left and right. But does anyone in this family really notice me or think I matter? No, it’s all been for nothing. No one cares about me. No one loves me or values me. You might as well just throw
me
into the lake.”

At the very image that Kim had repeatedly—and gleefully—envisioned, she felt her own tears well. She couldn’t deny that everything Miranda said or thought seemed to be about herself, but what woman hadn’t indulged in a pity party now and then?

Without hesitation, she slipped out of her chair, knelt on the deck, and slid her arms around Miranda’s shoulders. “No one wants you to be thrown into the lake,” she said, resting her cheek against her mother-in-law’s damp hair for a moment before drawing back.

“Despite what you think, Miranda, we do love you,” Kim insisted. “The twins adore you, and they’re excited that you want to stay permanently. Derek told me he feels so comfortable around you that he hardly even noticed when you moved in. I realize that you and I have had conflict, but I want to try to change that. I had a difficult childhood and a bad first marriage. It takes me a while to get relationships right, Miranda. But I love your son so much, and I love his mother, too. Can you ever find a way to accept me?”

Taking off her sunglasses, Miranda wiped at her eyes again and took the first sip from her lemonade. “Well,” she said, sniffling a little, “when you put it that way, I suppose I can try, too. After all, Derek isn’t about to part with you. He’s made that clear to me again and again. And I do love the twins. I suppose … yes, I suppose you and I should try to do better. For Derek’s sake. And the children’s.”

“Good,” Kim said, standing. “We’ll make this afternoon our new beginning. Now, if you want some more lemonade, just let me know. I’ll be in the kitchen fixing dinner.”

She started for the sliding glass door, but in its reflection, she saw her mother-in-law rise from the chair.

“Kim?” Miranda called. She crossed the deck, extended her arms, and drew Kim into a damp embrace. “I do accept you, dear. And I think we’re all going to be just fine.”

“She’s at it again,” Charlie observed. “Didn’t I tell you?”

Esther nodded. “You were right, sweetie. I never should have doubted you.”

Charlie and Esther were sitting on the front porch stringing beads onto clear monofilament. As it turned out, Ashley Hanes’s necklace business had taken off like a rocket out of Cape Canaveral, and the next thing Charlie knew, he had been commissioned as an official beader.

This was not his idea of a good time. For one thing, his eyes had trouble focusing on the tiny hole through each bead. For another, his slightly arthritic fingers didn’t particularly like working the line through that little bitty opening.

Oh, Charlie was plenty good with his hands—as long as the work involved running a circular saw, a router, a plane, or a drill. He could build just about anything he set his mind to, and the finely crafted shed out back of the house proved he not only knew his tools, but he was skilled at almost any kind of construction. This business of beading necklaces, though, felt too much like woman’s work.

On the other hand, creating jewelry for Ashley helped fill the daylight hours, and it afforded the opportunity to sit outside and view the comings and goings in the neighborhood. This afternoon, Boofer lay sprawled at Charlie’s feet while Esther sorted the beads into rows on the table at her husband’s side. To her dismay, Esther had discovered that beading was not her cup of tea. She couldn’t see through her trifocals well enough to thread the necklaces, and sometimes she got the colors mixed up. This meant that unless Charlie was paying close attention, he often had to start a project all over again.

“I wonder what she’s using these days,” Esther said. “Do you suppose she went out and bought some more?”

Sometimes they spoke this way, Charlie and Esther. It was a kind of code they had developed over the years. From his short, grunted comments, Esther knew right away that her husband had spotted Miranda Finley doing exercises on the deck. And from Esther’s mishmash of a question, Charlie knew his wife was asking about the tools of Miranda’s religious rituals—an altar and some rocks and statues.

“I guess she could have driven down to Springfield and bought another Buddha or two. You’ve gone over to orange, honeybunch, and we’re still working on red. The polka-dot ones.”

“Oh, for pete’s sake.” Esther picked up the orange beads and put them back into their compartment. “These necklaces are driving me batty. I wouldn’t have joined Miranda’s project, but I know it’s to help keep Ashley from having to take on a second job. I’m just wondering if she will ever have that baby she wants, poor thing. I keep studying her stomach, but there’s no sign of a pooch at all.”

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