A Mother's Homecoming

chapter Fourteen




“You know how last week I pointed out that you were singing all the time without even realizing it?” Dawn asked. “This morning you’ve been singing and dancing.”



“Well, why shouldn’t I be happy?” Pam asked, wiggling in a little side-to-side shake. “It’s a beautiful September day, the house renovations have far exceeded my expectations, I get to work with all of you wonderful women—you’re particularly lovely today, Nancy!”



The woman shot Pam an unamused look but refrained, probably due to their customers, from shooting the finger. Then Nancy’s scowl deepened. “Oh, spare me. Here comes lover boy.”



Dawn grinned, nudging Pam in the elbow with her ribs. “Guess you two can’t get enough of each other, huh?”



The ladies met Nick with innocent we-weren’t-all-just-talking-about-you smiles when he came through the door.



He walked up to the reception desk, where Pam was doing computer work, and Dawn flitted off to “see if that load of laundry is dry yet.”



“Welcome to C-3,” Pam chirped.



He grinned at her. “I’d like to make an appointment. Preferably with you, for lunch.”



She laughed. “Your daughter would have a fit if she knew you were here. Didn’t you give her some speech about not stalking me while I was at work?”



“Aren’t you familiar with the expression ‘Do as I say, not as I do’?”



“Is that the fancy version of ‘Because I said so’? Lunch sounds good in theory,” she said, glancing at the open spreadsheet on the computer screen, “but I don’t think today’s going to work. I’m right in the middle of something I need to finish. Besides, I leave today at two and wasn’t really planning on a lunch break. Aunt Julia has a project she needs my help on.”



Julia had been lamenting that while her jewelry-making had taken off better than expected, her clientele was mostly women of a certain age. She was trying to vary her style enough to attract a younger market.



“I sit in my vendor stall at community festivals and watch these teenagers run around,” she’d mused. “And it got me to thinking—some of them have a bigger budget for mad money than their mothers! Allowances, babysitting funds and no monthly bills.”



Pam had come up with a few ideas for a funkier “line” of jewelry, including earrings made from guitar picks.



Which reminded her. “Have you and Faith ever revisited the guitar discussion?” she asked Nick.



“A little,” he said. “If she’s serious about it, I may get her a guitar for Christmas. She wants to learn enough about sheet music that she can do notations for some of the songs she’s written.”



Pam took a deep breath. “Well, I’m not offering lessons—I’m too rusty for one thing, and it takes more than just talent to be able to teach someone else how to develop that talent. But how would you feel about letting me borrow Faith for a couple of afternoons? She’s in the right demographic to give Julia and me her opinion on jewelry designs. In return for her help, I’ll show her some basics on the guitar. The house is finally in good enough shape that she wouldn’t require a hard hat and an emergency contact card.”



“Sounds like a win-win for everyone,” he said. “I think she’d love that. In fact, maybe I’ll swing by the school and have lunch with her. As long as I don’t try to be funny in front of her friends, she seems to like seeing me periodically.”



“So you’ll talk to her about my idea?” Pam knew it would mean a lot to Julia to meet her great-niece, even if it were only under the guise of getting a twelve-year-old’s perspective.



“I’ll ask her, but I guarantee the answer is going to be an enthusiastic yes. The only real question is, how soon do you want to get started?”



EVEN FROM THE SIDEWALK out in front of the little house, Nick could hear the feminine laughter inside. Pam’s uninhibited laugh, Faith’s slightly higher giggle, making her sound like the adorable little girl she’d been not so long ago, and was that even a restrained chuckle from Julia? They sounded as if they were having so much fun that he almost hated to knock on the door.



As it turned out, he had to knock repeatedly before they finally heard him. Pam opened the door, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed with humor.



“Come on in.”



He would, but he was temporarily too dumbstruck to move. “You did all this?” he asked, staring past her.



She followed his gaze, taking in the finished living room walls, the gleaming new light fixture overhead and the recently hung shelf—on top of which sat a framed picture of Ed and Julia, a small flowering plant and a radio. “Not by myself. I told you, I’ve had help.”



She ticked off names on her fingers. “Uncle Ed stopped by whenever he could, sometimes bringing a guy or two from the warehouse. Aunt Julia showed up one day with two volunteers from her sewing circle. Beth and Dawn have both been out here to pitch in at various times, and some of the people at AA meetings who are newly sober and still restless have discovered that showing up here around ten o’clock at night gives them something constructive to do and keeps them out of bars.”



Nick frowned over the idea of her opening the door to people she didn’t know well after ten o’clock, but admitted, “The place has never looked better.”



“I’ll give you the complete tour when it’s done.” She ushered him inside.



“Hey, Dad.” Faith and Julia appeared at the edge of the living room. His daughter was smiling yet looked disappointed at the same time. “Do we have to leave already? Pam never even pulled out the guitar!”



“Sorry about that,” Pam said as she smoothed the girl’s hair. “Next time, I promise. You can come back tomorrow if it’s all right with your father. I guess we just got too caught up with everything else.”



“Evening, Julia.” Nick smiled at Pam’s aunt, glad that the two women had finally formed a strong family bond. Pam deserved to have that in her life. He never lost sight of the fact that he’d been blessed in that respect, even on days when his mother or sister exasperated the hell out of him.



Julia inclined her head. “Nick, always nice to see you. Thanks for letting us borrow your beautiful daughter for the afternoon. She’s been quite a help.”



Faith lifted her chin, adopting a self-important expression. “I’m in jewelry design now. Maybe someday I’ll have my own accessory line.”



He arched an eyebrow. “What happened to NASA?”



“Oh, Father.” She rolled her eyes. “I plan to do both. Duh.”



Pam tried to smother a laugh, and he glanced toward her, meeting her gaze, recognizing the same pride in her expression that welled within him. Our daughter, the jewelry-designing aeronautics engineer. He was the luckiest damn man alive.



Faith scooped up her backpack from where it sat on the floor next to the couch. “So I’ll see you both again tomorrow?”



“It will have to be later because I work until five tomorrow,” Pam said, “but it’s okay with me if it’s okay with your dad. You have to get your homework done first, though.”



“Deal!” She spun around, pinning Nick with wide, beseeching eyes. “It’s okay with you, right, Dad?”



“Sure. You guys seemed like you were having a good time.”



Faith’s eyes twinkled, a merry gold today. “Pam was telling us about this one time when you were fourteen and wanted to go to the mall and get your ear pierced because you thought it would make you cool, but Grandma Gwendolyn said absolutely not, and you asked Pam to try to pierce it for you.”



Nick groaned. “Pamela Jo! You’re supposed to tell her only the stories about how well I listened to my parents and how dedicated I was to my academic career.”



Pam grinned at him. “I see. I’ll try to come up with one of those stories for next time. But off the top of my head, I can’t seem to recall …”



“Come along, Faith,” he said with mock severity. “We have to be going now.”



His daughter whistled Beethoven all the way to the car, which made him think that Aunt Julia had been the one who got to pick the background music for their jewelry-making session.



“So, good afternoon?” Nick asked as they both got buckled.



“Stupendous day! You will not even believe what happened at school after you visited me, Daddy.” His daughter was positively vibrating with giddy excitement. “Right after you left!”



Nick had been relieved that she’d been pleased by his unannounced presence at lunch. He thought that even her world-weary friend Morgan had looked a bit wistful. Maybe Morgan wasn’t such a rotten kid; her family had been ripped apart by an ugly divorce, which probably amplified her attitude.



“What happened?” he asked dutifully.



“He asked me! Bryce actually asked me!”



“Should I know this Bryce?” Nick hoped he didn’t sound as panicked as he felt. Bryce who? Asked her what? I’ll kill him. Apparently all fathers possessed a dormant homicidal gene that didn’t make itself known until some boy asked their daughter for something. Please, God, let it have been to borrow her pencil.



“Bryce Watkins. I’ve liked him ever since he was my lab partner when we had to dissect earthworms.”



Ah, young love.



“And he asked me to the autumn social! He actually asked me.”



“That’s wonderful, honey. You seem pretty jazzed up about this.”



“Yeah, you have no idea how hard it was not to spill the beans this afternoon! I wanted to tell Pam,” she said. “But I wanted to tell you first.”



Nick’s throat tightened at the gesture. He knew it must have required monumental effort for a twelve-year-old girl not to share the news of a big crush asking her on a date. Date? The enormity of the event hit him. Her first date. He had a sharp pain in his abdomen that probably signaled an ulcer.



“I can’t wait to tell Pam,” Faith enthused. “You think she can help me pick out a dress? No offense, but I bet she’s better at it than you.”



“None taken. You can ask her about it when you see her tomorrow.”



Faith babbled happily for the rest of the ride home, and Nick did his best to follow her patter, but his mind was on autopilot. He found himself thinking about Pam. His daughter wasn’t the only one with a big crush.



Crush, hell. I’m in love with her.



He doubted now that he’d ever truly stopped loving her, not completely. He’d been very angry with her for a very long time, interspersed with periods where he’d managed to shove his feelings down and not think about her. It was like he’d had emotional frostbite. When it came to his romantic relationships, he’d had a certain unshakable numbness. Seeing her again had thawed him out in a way that wasn’t always pleasant. He’d had more temperamental outbursts in Pam’s first two weeks back in Mimosa than during his entire marriage to Jenna.



But there was no escaping the truth—he wanted the same thing now that he’d wanted at sixteen, to have a family and a forever with Pamela Jo Wilson. Was it his imagination, or did Faith want that, too? She could have suggested a shopping trip with her aunt Leigh or even Morgan and her mother, but she wanted to spend that with Pam instead.



Shockingly, he thought that Pam would actually agree to go dress shopping. She’d probably even be cheerful about the prospect, which made her a completely different woman than the one who’d backed away from him a month ago with panic-stricken eyes when he’d asked her to have a milk shake with her daughter. She’d changed during her time in Mimosa. As far as he could tell, all for the better.



The big question was, had she changed her mind about staying?



HER AUNT LEFT after dinner, and now Pam was all alone in the house again. Normally around this time, she would sit outside for a few minutes and listen to night fall around her. It had become something of a meditative ritual. However, rain had started sprinkling shortly after Nick and Faith left and it was now pouring.



Pam found herself drifting from one room to the next, compiling a mental checklist. The plumber was due on Friday; the fresh coat of paint on the bedroom walls looked great, but she had to hang all of the new trim around doors and floor; she’d received a call that her order of glass was in and would be delivered tomorrow—several window panes had to be replaced. Granted, the external landscaping was … well, nonexistent, and the hole in the kitchen where a dishwasher should be bothered her, but the house was becoming downright cozy. It had meant a lot to have Faith here today and feel proud of the work she’d done, not ashamed that this house was her past.



Recalling her promise to Faith, Pam dragged her feet to the closet where she’d stored the guitar case as soon as she’d taken up residence. Pam withdrew the case, which was heavier than she remembered, and carried it to the couch. Inside was the guitar that had represented so many of her dreams, almost none of which had materialized. At one time, she’d looked at this guitar and seen her entire future. Now it was the wood and string embodiment of a million mistakes.



Just looking at it made her thirsty.



It’s a guitar. No more, no less. She’d faced down an enraged mother on more than one occasion, often wondering if this would be the time Mae actually lost it enough to wallop her. She’d faced her own addiction and hadn’t let changing locations become an excuse for dropping the program. Surely she could face a single acoustic guitar.



Play it again, Pam.



Lips twitching in a sardonic smile, she strummed a couple of notes from “As Time Goes By,” but it wasn’t a song she knew well. The guitar deserved better. After a moment, she started “Amazing Grace,” stopped, then started again, singing along this time. She progressed to faster country songs and classic rock, attempting some Skynyrd and Boston numbers, frustrated at how much she got wrong. It felt like she was trying to play with someone else’s fingers.



The thought stopped her, and she quit in the middle of a Rolling Stones song. Someone else. How much of her was the same Pamela Jo Wilson who’d grown up in this house, hating her mother and loving guitar, and how much was simply Pam—a slightly older, slightly wiser, more tired, more realistic, much more centered person?



Recalling her wild weekend with Nick, spent mostly on his living room floor and tangled in his bed, she grinned. Maybe not so old or tired.



She settled into Clapton’s “Wonderful Tonight,” which had been the theme for her and Nick’s senior prom and kept right on playing for hours, taking only the occasional break, until her voice started to go and she’d developed blisters. When she accidentally sliced one of those blisters open, she put the guitar aside, blinking in surprise. It was morning?



Hazy sunlight was starting to filter through the windows. The rain had stopped, and the night was over.



FOR TWO AFTERNOONS in a row, Pam and Faith worked on basic chords. The second afternoon, Faith asked if she could sing one of her original compositions, but she lost her nerve at the last minute.



“Don’t worry about it,” Pam said. “Maybe next time. Tell you what, I have to go hammer some decorative molding back into place. You want to practice by yourself for a little while?”



“That would be great.” Faith looked a bit relieved to have time alone to go over what she’d learned. It was difficult to improve when you didn’t have your own guitar to practice on; Pam wondered if Nick would be able to hold out until Christmas.



Faith had thought the building-up-calluses part sounded gross, but other than that, she seemed like a natural.



On Sunday, Pam and Faith decided to forego music lessons in favor of dress shopping. Pam had hoped to get a head start on it the day before—with the big dance coming the following Saturday, they were cutting it close—but the salon had been packed from open to closing. Dawn hadn’t been kidding about all the alumni in town getting ready for various events this week. Nick, as a former Mimosa High football star, was planning to take Faith to the big game Friday night and they’d asked Pam to join them.



While Pam drove her daughter to the closest mall, about twenty minutes out of town, Faith implored her to talk to Nick.



“He’s making me nuts kidding around about signing up to chaperone the dance,” Faith said. “At least I hope he’s kidding. That’s the problem. He might be serious! You have to do something. Keep him busy that night.”



“Excuse me?”



“Take him bowling, see a movie. Whatever people your age do,” Faith said.



“People my age?” Pam pulled a face. “Word of advice, kid. If you’re trying to get a woman to do you a favor, don’t make her feel like she’s older than dirt.”



“Oh, I didn’t mean that. You guys are both way younger than most of my friends’ parents. I just meant, Dad’s never really dated very much, so I’m not sure what exactly he’d do on one.”



If Nick hadn’t dated, it had to have been his choice. He was a gorgeous, successful guy with broad shoulders to lean on and a wicked sense of humor. Or had his dating been curtailed because of Faith? Maybe he’d worried how she would handle the idea or he’d simply been too busy as a single parent. Or were women resistant to the idea of being with a man who came with a ready-made family?



Pam felt herself getting indignant on his behalf. Any woman would be lucky to have Nick and Faith! They … She stopped, wincing at the irony and trying not to lose her breath at the realization of all she’d sacrificed. Today was her first mother-daughter outing with Faith. If Pam hadn’t run twelve years ago, she would have driven her to school and dentist appointments and maybe music lessons. It was a sure bet that, hearing her daughter’s voice, she would have encouraged her to develop that talent.



The thought gave her pause … because she actually believed it. She’d left because she hadn’t loved her own child, but whatever the past had held, Pam knew she could love her now. It was far easier to imagine herself cheering her daughter on than it was to picture herself belittling her or lashing out at her.



“How old were you when I was born?” Faith asked suddenly.



“Uh … How about we listen to some music?” Pam didn’t know how to handle the topic of her and Nick’s romantic history. On the one hand, she was tempted to use her teen pregnancy as a teachable moment, demonstrating why the only real way to be careful was to wait. Then again, she didn’t want to make it sound like anyone regretted Faith’s existence.



“All right.” Faith shot her a knowing look, but turned on the radio. Before long, they were singing together, naturally harmonizing. Pam actually stopped at one point, just to enjoy the way her daughter was belting out the lyrics.



She’s better than I was. Unpolished, sure, but gifted. But Faith hadn’t let that single gift define her. She was a well-rounded girl with varied interests and countless possibilities for the future. Again, Pam thought to herself what a good job Nick had done as a parent. Of course, he’d told her how much Leigh and his mother had helped over the years. Crap. Next time I see Gwendolyn, I’m going to have to be nice to her.



At the first store, Pam steered Faith away from a rack of dresses that, while technically the right size, were completely inappropriate for her age. “Not those.”



Faith laughed. “I know. Dad’s head would explode. Morgan has this insanely convoluted plan for how to get the dress she really wants to wear—which her Mom won’t let her—into her locker at school so that she can slip away from the gymnasium during the dance and change. Tasha and I keep telling her it won’t work. The side hallways are locked during special events so no one can sneak off and get in trouble.”



Pam paused, wondering how much she could safely interfere without alienating Faith. “You and Morgan are pretty good friends?”



Faith nodded promptly. “She was the first person who was nice to me when Dad and I moved here. And she totally knows what it’s like to deal with divorce, not that my problems were as bad as hers. I was never that close to Jenna. Plus, even during the divorce, Jenna and Dad didn’t scream at each other. You should hear Morgan’s parents.”



Pam winced, feeling unwanted sympathy for the Bad Seed. “My mom screamed all the time when I was a kid. That can be rough.”



“Who was your best friend?” Faith wanted to know. “Ms. Lewin?”



Much as Pam liked Dawn, then and now, Pam had never wanted to burden her with the realities of life at the Wilson house. Dawn had spent the night only once, and had watched with wide-eyed shock as Mae staggered drunkenly down the hallway with the cordless phone, arguing loudly with some guy she’d been seeing.



“Actually,” Pam said, “I’d have to say your dad was my best friend. He’s a great guy. Do me a favor? Listen to him. Sometimes it will seem like more fun, or at least cooler, to do what Morgan or someone else tells you to do. But if your father tells you it’s a bad idea or your heart tells you it’s a bad idea, walk away. Especially if alcohol is involved.”



Faith regarded her seriously. “Is that why you used to drink too much, because some friends talked you into it?”



“I drank for a lot of reasons, none of them good. You’re genetically predisposed, so you may need to be even more careful than your friends. And one or two really hateful jerks might even tease you, but that’s preferable to stumbling and breaking your arm. Or wrapping your car around a tree. Got it?”



Faith nodded. “Got it.”



“All right, enough with the after school special. Let’s find you a killer dress.”



MIMOSA WAS ABUZZ with special events related to the homecoming. As far as Pam could tell, the week was crazy busy for everyone. Business at the salon never let up. Faith didn’t have time to practice guitar chords because she was studying for the school year’s first round of major exams. Nick’s construction crews doubled productivity now that they were working in humane temperatures. And Julia took two private orders for jewelry. One was for Faith, who had insisted on paying for a great necklace to go with her dress for the dance. The other order was a bit more substantial—a woman getting ready to take a cruise with her five sisters had commissioned a set of jewelry for each sister, all of similar design but with slightly different colors and stones.



For the first half of the week, Pam enjoyed the whirl of people and activity, but by Friday, she was frazzled. She was in the salon’s laundry room, adding detergent to a load and counting the hours until the end of her shift, when Beth called her to the front.



“Pam, you’ve got a delivery from a florist up here.”



Had Nick sent her flowers again? She wracked her mind, trying to figure out what the occasion was. It was possible he just wanted to say thanks for her help with Faith’s dress, but they’d brought that home days ago. He’d fussed over his daughter, who looked too much like “an elegant young woman—can’t you go in pigtails and overalls instead?” But it was easy to tell he approved of their choice.



Curious, Pam quickly set the dials on the washer and headed to the front desk. Once she saw the long box, she started laughing and couldn’t stop. “Seriously?” she asked no one in particular. “He sent me a homecoming mum?”



It was tradition at the high school for guys to get their girlfriends one of these huge adornments. At the top, a fluffy white mum was centered in ribbons of blue and gold, the high school’s colors. From there, long blue and gold ribbons trailed nearly to the floor, many with letters or decals on them. The sparkling foil letters on one of her ribbons spelled out Mimosa High; another read NS and PJW. Among the ribbons were chains of gold plastic microphones and guitars, as well as gold football helmets. It was incredibly gaudy.



Dawn stopped short when she saw it, wrinkling her nose uncertainly. “That is something, isn’t it? I can’t tell if he’s crazy about you or trying to punish you.”



Pam grinned at the eyesore. “What does it say about me that I kind of love it?”



“That you two are made for each other.”



“YOU ACTUALLY WORE IT.” Nick stood at the front gate of the football stadium, grinning as she approached. Pam had ridden over with Dawn, but Nick had promised to get her home afterward. They would probably take Faith for a milk shake after the game.



“Of course I wore it! I’m just sorry I didn’t have time to make a blue-and-gold arm garter for you.” She’d entertained the idea for a few minutes even as she’d known she didn’t have the time, materials or energy.



Frankly, she wasn’t sure she had the energy for tonight. Part of her had wanted to simply curl up under a comforter and go to bed early. It wasn’t just the hectic week, it was a groundless melancholy that had been growing all evening.



As she walked toward Nick, she had to kick ribbons free as they tried to tangle around her legs. “Fair warning—this thing trips me, I sue.”



He laughed. “I believe you. I know how much you want to buy a dishwasher for that house.”



“Not to mention roof repairs and a ton of stuff for the backyard.”



On her skills and budget, though, she’d come about as far as she could. While she knew that roof repairs would come up during a property inspection, she thought it would be more a point of negotiation for closing costs, not enough to scare away prospective buyers. It wasn’t a half-bad little house. The foundation was solid and the potential was there.



It was time to put it on the market.



“Faith’s already inside,” Nick said. “She and this Bryce kid are sitting a couple of rows in front of us. Enough room that we won’t be eavesdropping on their conversation, but we should be able to see if he tries anything funny. Oh, and I hope you don’t mind, but …”



“Yes?”



“We’re sitting with Leigh and A.J.”



At the mention of his sister, she sighed. “Joy. No, that’s fine, I can get along with anybody for one night.” Especially when she was too drained to be feisty. “I don’t suppose she brought more cookies with her?”



“Sorry, no. If you’re hungry, we can hit the concessions stand.”



“I was kidding about the cookies, but a soft drink sounds pretty good.” Maybe the caffeine would give her the jolt she needed to get pumped up for the game.



It seemed like the entire county had turned out for the football game, and she held Nick’s hand to keep from losing him in the crowd. At one point, a man jostled into her with significant forward momentum. The force of impact separated her from Nick. She staggered slightly but didn’t fall. Meanwhile, rather than stop in the middle of pedestrian traffic, Nick let himself get swept into the crowd. She saw him stop at the side of the walkway a few yards ahead, waiting for her.



“Sorry,” the man said. He had a little girl on his shoulders and was walking with a woman who had an even younger toddler at her hip.



“I’m all right.” Pam did a double take, recognizing him as Jake Stein from AA. She smiled, but he wasn’t really focused on her. His eyes look glazed. “Jake, are you okay?”



He didn’t bother answering. His only response was a puff of air blown through his lips, a not-quite raspberry that made it clear he was annoyed by her question.



“I’m sorry, you are …?” The woman next to him, who must have been Mrs. Stein, darted her gaze from Pam to Jake. “Honey, do you know this woman?”



He gave a shrug that bounced the little girl on his shoulders and made her giggle. “It’s M’mosa. Everyone knows everyone. C’mon, let’s get the girls to the bleachers. She’s heavy.”



Pam stood to the side of the narrow walkway as the family passed. Was it her imagination, or was Jake’s gait unsteady? It was possibly the result of walking with a fifty-pound child on his shoulders, for all she knew. But her misgivings were strong enough that instead of turning toward Nick and getting those soft drinks, she stood planted where she was, unable to take her eyes away from the Stein family. When she’d been a kid, she’d developed a sense of impending doom that always started with the pit of her stomach.



You have an overactive imagination, and you were already in an irrationally bleak mood. She was advising herself to shake it off and get her soda when the man staggered again in the crowd. Pam’s mind registered what was going to happen a split second before her eyes processed it.



Jake pitched forward with enough force that the little girl toppled from his shoulders and fell with a heartrending cry to the pavement below.