The Things I Do For You (24 page)

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Authors: Mary Carter

BOOK: The Things I Do For You
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“Do you mind,” Bailey said, “not telling me how my own husband is feeling?”
“I asked them to be involved,” Brad said.
“That’s crazy,” Bailey said. “This should be private.”
“We’ve gone through something powerful—”
“I don’t want to hear it, okay? I already know how great the light is. In fact, I also know that you didn’t come back for me. That the only thing you were even remotely sorry about losing was your freaking shoes!”
“That’s a gross misrepresentation—”
“None of us cared about anything when we were in the presence of the light,” Vera said. “It’s very powerful.”
“Blah, blah, blah,” Bailey said. The more enlightened they proclaimed to be, the more juvenile Bailey felt.
“Wow,” Angel said. “I can see why he doesn’t want to have kids.” Bailey didn’t think. She heard Angel’s words and just reacted. She felt herself moving. She felt the object in her hand, heavy, cold, and smooth. She didn’t put a name to it, or to what she was doing. She heard her husband yell, but it didn’t faze her. She felt her arm pull back. She threw as hard as she could. Olivia’s urn soared across the room and smashed against the wall between the windows. Bailey braced herself for a storm of ash, a small cloud of dust, pieces of Olivia hovering above their heads before snowing to the ground and covering everything and everyone within reach. Instead, smashed shards of the urn and a deck of playing cards flew up in the air in a giant arc, like an invisible card shark playing a game of fifty-two-card pickup. When the cards finally fell to the ground, they seemed to cover every surface. The queen of hearts landed at Bailey’s feet. The queen’s eyes bored into hers with a vacant stare, much like the expression Olivia wore when she was alive. Goose bumps prickled up Bailey’s arms. Stunned, she looked to Brad for an explanation. He looked just as shocked as she did. It took Bailey a few seconds to remember why she threw the urn in the first place.
“Tell me,” Bailey said. “Tell me you did not tell this group that you don’t want to have kids.” Brad didn’t answer. He simply hung his head.
“Right now,” Kimmy said. “He doesn’t want to have kids right now.” Bailey looked at the cards scattered across the living room floor.
“Where’s Olivia?” Brad said.
“I don’t know,” Bailey said. “And I really don’t care.”
Chapter 23
PLEASE SIGN OUR GUEST BOOK!
I like to listen to the music box, but I can’t see it. My Scout leader says you shouldn’t play it all night long. I am missing a box of Thin Mints. Did you take it? You will pay for that.
 
 
Keeper’s Log
Brad
 
I don’t know how things have gone so wrong. Bailey is still here, at least physically. Mentally, she still hates me. I guess I don’t blame her. But I’m trying to do the right thing. I just don’t always know what that is. Maybe I shouldn’t have let Angel stay. Despite what Bailey thinks, it’s not because of me. She has a little crush on Jake. And she’s paying her way now, so how could I say no?
 
I don’t know where Olivia’s ashes are, and I have to be careful questioning Bailey about it. Do I think those playing cards magically appeared in the urn? No, of course not, I’m not that far gone. But maybe Olivia’s spirit influenced whoever did it. It was her way of telling us she’s found her own resting place. Okay, it sounds crazy. But no crazier than looking all over the place for her missing ashes. Every time I see a bit of dust on the furniture I think, Is that you, Aunt Liv?
 
On another note, I will never play Pictionary with Bailey again. She gets way too angry if I don’t understand her absurd pictures and she never gets mine, although she’s right, I don’t take it seriously.
 
Tree wasn’t a happy dog. And who could blame him? Daniel had abandoned him without a second thought. He likes it here, he told them as he departed. Even though she hadn’t exactly bonded with him, Bailey felt for the dog. It was traumatic being abandoned. Web, on the other hand, seemed to like having another animal around. Normally curled up in the Crow’s Nest, the cat had taken to following the dog at a safe distance. Bailey found it hilarious and thought about filming it for YouTube. Sadly, Tree had no interest in Web. Instead, he was taking his anger out on a specific patch of dirt by the patio, digging as if trying to create an escape tunnel of his own. On several occasions, Bailey had come into the kitchen to find garbage scattered about. At first she thought Vera was back, but she quickly spotted Tree’s paw prints in the ground coffee littering the floor. He had also taken to barking and whining whenever they left him outside alone. He was now sleeping at the foot of Brad and Bailey’s bed every night, snoring to high heaven.
Their first series of paying guests came with their share of baggage, and not just the Louis Vuitton kind. There were the newlyweds, who, in their eighties, kept joking they were really the “nearly deads” (oh, if only they knew Brad’s story!). They stayed in their room the entire weekend. If it weren’t for the bed creaking and the headboard continuously knocking against the wall, Bailey would have worried they had actually died up there. They insisted on breakfast in bed, and when Bailey took them their tray, she was horrified to see they were watching hardcore porn on their laptop.
Bailey was shaken, but soon comforted by Brad, who thought it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, and finally, in shared laughter, the patch of ice between them slowly began to thaw. Besides game night on the patio, when the Girl Scouts came for a stay, Bailey finally started movie night as well. The projector jumped in a few spots, but otherwise Bailey was sure the girls enjoyed watching
E.T.
and eating popcorn and Reese’s Pieces. She certainly did.
That is, until one of the girls accused Bailey of stealing several boxes of Thin Mints. As if she would do that! Oh, how they turned the place upside down. Bailey was convinced it had to be one of the other girls; after all, Angel didn’t eat, Jake was always outside, and the elderly couple never left the bedroom. That left her and Brad. Brad finally paid for the missing boxes of Thin Mints, something that absolutely infuriated Bailey. She didn’t mind donating to the troop, but she thought Brad’s action was an admission of guilt. Besides, if she were to steal cookies, she would have taken the Peanut Butter Patties.
And when the Girl Scouts complained of hearing scary creaking and moaning during the night, Bailey was forced to stick to her ghost stories. And yes, it might have caused at least one Girl Scout to start wetting the bed, but Bailey had no choice. The truth—that the moans and creaks were coming from horny senior citizens—could have scarred them for life. In the end, Bailey was just as happy to see the paying customers leave as she was the freeloaders.
For the most part she had avoided seeing Jake. He was still outside in the tent, paying a nominal fee of $25 a night. In the summer, it would be a nice little extra income having people pitch tents on their property. He kept to himself, although every day Bailey would catch glimpses of him. He usually ran along the river in the morning, came in for a shower, dressed, showed up for breakfast, then disappeared all afternoon. Sometimes he took the ferry into town, sometimes he disappeared into the woods. In the late afternoon he would usually float down the river in his kayak. She would often see him chatting with other boaters or sitting on the patio reading a book. It was a whole week before he approached her again. It was a Thursday and the Girl Scouts and elderly couple had just left. Bailey had already stripped the beds and washed the sheets.
It was a gorgeous summer day, perfect for hanging things out to dry. Bailey brought her large basket and clothespins, carefully lifting one corner out at a time. If the wet sheets hit the ground, it would be game over. This was a far cry from Manhattan, where she would drop off piles of clothes at a laundry service before work, then pick them up hot, fresh, and folded in the evening. But this was nice too, out in the fresh air, hanging sheets.
“Need a hand with that?” She knew it was Jake before she even turned around. She might go as far as to say she’d been expecting him.
“Sure,” she said. She handed him a corner and a clothespin. They worked in tandem, and the sheets were hung in no time. There was something so nice about seeing the sheets sway on the line, the smell of fresh detergent wafting through the air.
“Go for a walk?” Jake suggested.
“Why not,” Bailey said. “A short one.”
“Short it is,” Jake said. He picked the upriver direction, where as you walked along there were fewer and fewer people as opposed to downriver, where Captain Jack’s ferry could often be spotted moored on this side of the river. Jake walked at a bright clip, his strong calves and back muscles slightly flexing as he strolled.
“You remind me of Brad when he was younger,” Bailey blurted out. Jake stopped abruptly and Bailey ran into him. It was a chest-to-chest bump. Jake put his hand out to steady her, first on her waist, then resting for a few seconds on her hip.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” He was speaking in a low, quiet voice, almost a whisper.
“Youth is always a good thing,” Bailey said, pulling away. “But mostly I’m referring to your sense of adventure, tackling the world on your own.”
“I hope I won’t always be on my own.”
“I’m sure there are several girls waiting in the wings as we speak.” Bailey suspected it was one of the reasons Angel was hanging around. A small smile confirmed her suspicion. “Do you want to get married someday? Have kids?” How easy the question tripped off the tongue, as if the two breezily went hand in hand.
“Of course. I can’t wait to have kids.” His exuberance caused Bailey a sensation of physical pain. She smiled through it.
“You’d have to give up some of your freewheeling lifestyle,” Bailey teased.
“That’s exactly why I’m doing this now,” Jake said. “Traveling, living out of a tent. Getting it out of my system. I figure my twenties are for exploring. Thirty to thirty-five is for love. Thirty-five is when we start trying to have kids. Loads of them. Nothing less than a truckload.” When he grinned, a dimple popped up on the left side of his face, just like Brad. God, he was cute. “I figure if I get this out of my system now—no regrets—I’ll be able to concentrate on being the best husband and father I can be. I want exactly what you two have,” he added.
“Except with kids,” Bailey said. They were nearing the end of the gravel. From here out they would be walking on grassy banks. Bailey stopped to wipe a trail of sweat from the nape of her neck. In the distance a Coast Guard on patrol waved at them, and they waved back.
“You’d be a fantastic mother.” Jake sounded so earnest that Bailey had to laugh.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I still have temper tantrums.”
“You’re passionate. I like that about you.”
“Brad doesn’t want to have kids.” She didn’t know why she blurted it out. Normally, she used the “We’re waiting for the right time” line, or the “We’re saving up for it,” or “As soon as . . .” with anything plausible to fill in the blanks. But it felt good to tell the truth.
And the truth, the painful truth she hadn’t wanted to face, the one he’d confided to his NDE group, was that Brad Jordan simply didn’t want to have children. Ever.
“Not carry on your genes? It’s almost criminal.” Bailey laughed again. Jake held out his hand to help her up the embankment. She couldn’t help but feel a little thrill when their hands touched. “Although,” Jake said when they reached the top of the embankment and sank into the soft grass, “if it’s because he just wants you all to himself, I can totally see that too.”
Bailey laughed again, as if he were joking, and forged ahead. He was shamelessly flirting, but really, as long as she didn’t lead him on, what was the harm? Angel hung over Brad so much it was as if she’d mistaken him for a coatrack. Could there be some truth in what Jake said? Was Brad afraid to have kids because he didn’t think he’d be number one anymore? It was common for new mothers to dote so much on their children that they ignored their husband.
And if that was it, if that’s what he was afraid of, maybe all she had to do was find a way to assure Brad he would always be number one. Or at least on an even playing field with their kids. Wouldn’t they both want to make their children the number one priority? Not that they would give up on their romance. They could have date nights. Wasn’t that what mature adults did? She would have to find a way to work this into a conversation with Brad. After all, if they could juggle a bed-and-breakfast, surely they could find time for a child. What was one more mouth to feed as long as they were making breakfast anyway?
“Thank you,” Bailey said.
“For what?”
“You’ve given me a new perspective,” Bailey said. Jake raised his eyebrows. Bailey leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I have to turn back now,” she said.
“I’ll come with,” Jake said. “Although I was hoping to walk all day.”
“You need to find a girl your own age,” Bailey joked.
“Age is irrelevant,” Jake said. “Marriage, however, is a different story.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Are you happy?” There he was again, on about happiness. Ah, youth. Another nervous laugh escaped from her. How many did that make today? Was it some kind of female / hysteria / hormone thing? She was no better than a giggling schoolgirl. And she was fighting fantasies of Jake throwing her down on the soft grass, covering her body with his young, strong one, and taking her right there and then. Hello, Coast Guard! It’s high tide all right! Menopause. How many years did she have? Twelve? Fourteen? She wanted to be a mother by then. Why else put up with her period, month after month, year after year, since she was twelve years old? She would make a fantastic mother. And Brad, despite his fears, would make a fantastic father. He would not be abandoned by Bailey, not even after the birth of their child. She had been right about one thing. This all stemmed from his mother. And his father too, walking away from Brad before he was born. No wonder he was afraid to have kids. Now, why hadn’t the psychiatrist pointed this out? Bailey was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she barely noticed the silent walk back. Before she knew it, they were back where they began, with the sheets still swaying in the sun.
“I can’t thank you enough,” Bailey said. What happened next would have been slow motion if it were a movie. She started to walk away. He grabbed her wrist and swung her back. Like a perfectly practiced dance, they bumped into each other again, only this time in addition to their chests, their lips came together. And although she did nothing more than freeze in place, and Jake was the one who did the kissing, it still lasted seconds too long. Seconds that made all the difference between innocent peck and “something going on.”
Bailey pulled back as soon as her brain started functioning. “Jake,” she said. Jake grinned and held up his hands.
“No lecture necessary. It will never happen again. But I had to do it. Just once.” He winked at her and took off again, in the same direction from where they’d just returned. Bailey was shaking her head and gently touching her lips, and smiling to herself, when she felt someone staring at her. Startled, she looked up. There, in the lighthouse tower, hanging over the outside rail, focusing rays of jealousy just as strong as the beam from the light, was Angel. Angel had seen the kiss, and Bailey had been judged, juried, and sentenced.

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