She had also learned that being born dirt poor didn’t mean you had to stay that way, and that it wasn’t a sin to use the face and figure God gave you to get ahead in life, as long as it was legal. Although those things were important, they weren’t the things that she wrote down in her Journal of Truths each day. The journal was meant to go to Owen one day, and she didn’t figure he needed to know about using his physical assets to get ahead. He wouldn’t need to. With his mama’s looks and his daddy’s brains, he would do just fine.
She shoved the last piece of luggage into the back of her Lincoln Navigator, breaking a long red nail in the process. After making sure her ten-year-old son wasn’t within hearing range, she let out an expletive while she examined the damage and tried not to cry. It wasn’t the biggest tragedy of the past year, just the latest in a long line.
When she’d been a flight attendant for Delta she’d taken such pride in her hands. She’d considered it a job requirement and had always received compliments. Robert had said it was the first thing he’d noticed about her. He’d been so handsome in his pilot’s uniform that she’d thrown his compliment back in his face, sure he told that to all the girls. He’d been genuinely hurt that she’d doubted his sincerity. They were married six months later in her hometown of Gulf Shores, Alabama, by a justice of the peace. Robert’s daughter from his first marriage hadn’t been there for the wedding, nor for any event in the intervening eleven years. Not even for his funeral.
Loralee studied the house they’d bought together, the driveway looking bare without Robert’s car or Owen’s bicycle and insect terrariums, the lawn naked without the family of cement bunnies she’d purchased at a garage sale because she’d known they’d be perfect in front of their house. She’d dressed them up for the various holidays until the homeowner association had made her stop.
The front door stood open, allowing the hot sun to spill into the empty entranceway, illuminating the bare rectangles on the stairwell where a happy family had once smiled at visitors.
“Owen? Come on. It’s time to go.” She’d always told Owen it was bad manners to yell, but she didn’t want to go back into the house. She’d already said good-bye and was afraid that if she had to go inside again, she might never be able to leave. With her high heels clicking on the pavement, she tapped her way up the walk and climbed the three steps to the front door but went no farther. “Owen? We really need to get going. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us, and you know I don’t like driving at night.”
The emptiness of the house echoed like a continuous sigh. But somewhere in the depths of the small house, Loralee thought she heard a sob. Dropping her pocketbook on the threshold, she ran as quickly as she could in heels up the stairs and into the only bedroom Owen had ever known.
He was kneeling inside his empty closet in front of the access panel to an attic crawl space. He held a LEGO airplane in his hands as carefully as he could while his shoulders shook with sobs. Without a word, Loralee knelt beside him on the carpet. Out of habit she took off his glasses and cleaned them on the edge of her skirt before settling them back on his face.
“Did you forget to pack something, sweetie?”
Owen nodded. “Daddy and me made this together. I put it back here so it wouldn’t get broken.”
“I remember. It’s a seven forty-seven, right?”
Owen rolled his eyes. “It’s an MD-eighty.”
Loralee smiled. “Glad you got your daddy’s brains.”
Owen didn’t look up. “What if it gets broken in the car? I might not know how to put it back together.”
“I bet the two of us could figure it out.”
Owen looked at her as if she’d just said she was only going to wear flats from now on.
“We could try,” she offered in her defense, although it was more of an attempt to make him stop missing his daddy so much.
“I don’t want to move to South Carolina.”
Loralee shifted from her knees so that she was sitting on the carpet, anticipating another long conversation. “We’ve already gone over this, sweetie. It’s time for you to meet your sister.”
He looked at her again as if she were speaking a foreign language, as if he knew how desperation could make a person do crazy things. Like driving to another state to meet a sister who never wanted to know you existed.
“Besides, it could be worse. We could be driving all the way up to Maine. Lucky for us Merritt has just moved to South Carolina and will probably be happy to know somebody in town. I’m sure she’ll be happy to have us there to help get her settled.” Loralee tried to make her smile appear natural, as if she actually believed everything she’d just said instead of worrying whether Merritt had even had a chance to move into her new house yet. Not that it mattered. Loralee and Owen were leaving that day no matter what. Loralee had simply run out of time.
“Does Merritt want to meet me?” His bright blue eyes stared at her from behind his thick glasses.
“Who wouldn’t want to meet you, Owen? You’re smart and funny and always have something interesting to say. She’ll love you the moment she sees you.”
“The kids in my class didn’t.”