Soaring (Magdalene #2)

Four Donovan brothers.

 

If they were half as magnificent as Mickey, it was good they didn’t live in Magdalene or the entirety of the female population would have problems, just like me.

 

“Your dad still work?” he asked and I felt my neck get tighter.

 

“Yes,” I told him. “He probably won’t retire until Auden comes of age and he can hand over the business direct to family.” This was true, and Dad had shared this with my son, but the idea of it terrified me. I obviously didn’t tell this to Mickey. Instead, I explained, “My brother took his own path, lives in Santa Barbara, he’s an attorney.”

 

His mouth got hard again but he still moved it.

 

“What’s your dad do?”

 

I didn’t want to answer.

 

In fact, I wasn’t really certain why he asked, he couldn’t care.

 

In fact, I was completely uncertain why he was still there when I couldn’t imagine that he wanted to be.

 

But he frequently laid it out for me and maybe this was his attempt at keeping things friendly. Know thy neighbor or something like that.

 

So even if I didn’t want to, I answered anyway.

 

“He’s CEO of Calway Petroleum, the family company.”

 

His eyes flared then shut down on his, “Jesus.”

 

This was not a surprising response. Unless, until recently, he’d lived his life on Mars, he’d know Calway Petroleum. There were Calway stations across America (and Canada, and the world).

 

There wasn’t one in Magdalene but only because I noted there were only two gas stations in the whole town.

 

But both neighboring towns had a Calway.

 

My great-grandfather was a Texan. My great-grandfather had a ranch and was already scary-wealthy when he struck oil. He, then my grandfather and then my father, brilliantly, fiendishly, callously and determinedly kept the business thriving even after my great-grandfather’s vast fields of proverbial gold dried up.

 

Now the company was deeply involved in offshore drilling.

 

My mother’s family was in shipping, like big-time, Onassis-style shipping.

 

I just hoped Mickey didn’t ask about her.

 

His eyes drifted beyond me to the wall of windows beyond which was a multi-million dollar view to the sea.

 

“Don’t gotta work,” he muttered.

 

I didn’t reply because I knew he knew precisely why I had that multi-million dollar view, could sell off all my stuff and replace it nearly immediately and had plenty of time to volunteer at a nursing home.

 

I also knew he thought this was no good.

 

He looked back to me and proved that by declaring abruptly, “I’ll pass on the cupcake, Amelia.”

 

“Okay, Mickey,” I said quietly.

 

“Thanks for the recipes,” he replied. “Ash’ll love ’em.”

 

I nodded.

 

He lifted a hand and dropped it. “You can get on with what you’re doin’. I’ll see myself out.”

 

I was sure he would.

 

“Okay,” I said. “Good to see you, though.”

 

“Yeah. You too,” he murmured distractedly while turning.

 

I watched him move through my house, going right to the door.

 

He gave me his eyes before he closed it behind him, saying, “Later, Amelia.”

 

“Later, Mickey,” I returned.

 

He nodded, shut my door and disappeared.

 

I closed my eyes.

 

My phone rang.

 

I opened my eyes, grabbed my phone and turned off the ringer.

 

Then, because I had no choice, or none that were healthy for me, I went back to my cupcakes.

 

*

 

I had no idea if Mickey got my email.

 

I just knew he didn’t reply as he said he would, sharing his number.

 

And I told myself that was okay with me.

 

But I lied.

 

 

 

 

 

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.