She reached down, nabbed her panties from the floor and he slid to the side as she lifted her legs then her hips as she yanked them on. The minute her legs settled back to the couch, he rolled his lower body over hers again and her eyes came to his face.
“He close to your folks?” Cal found himself asking and then watched as she burst out laughing. His question was so hilarious, she rolled into him, sliding her arms around him, holding on as her body shook with laughter at the same time she shoved her face in his chest.
“Vi,” he called.
She pulled her face away and tipped her head back.
“That was funny.”
“I could tell.”
She grinned at him. “The answer is no, Sam is not close to my parents. Neither of us are. Me because I got pregnant at seventeen and married the baby’s father after which they disowned me. I think it was less me getting pregnant and more me getting pregnant by Tim. Tim was not my mother’s idea of a perfect match. Tim’s Dad was a fireman, his Mom a nursing assistant. My Dad was an officer at a bank and my Mom was, and still is, a lady who lunched.”
This surprised him. There was nothing about her that hinted she came from money.
“Sam was a hellion,” she went on. “He started rebelling when he was about five and didn’t stop until a few years after he met Mel and she had enough time to calm him down. Still, my transgression was apparently worse than Sam’s gazillion fuck ups so, after I screwed up so royally according to Mom and she turned her back on me, she made it her mission to stay in Sam’s life. He puts up with it, mostly because he gets on with Dad. She does it, I reckon, because she’s not stupid and she knows when she’s slobbering in her jell-o she’ll need someone to come and visit her so she’ll have someone to bitch to.”
Cal looked down at her and found his mind moving to her at seventeen, pregnant and probably scared out of her fucking mind and her mother turning her back on her.
Then his mind moved to the woman lying on his couch who dressed like she dressed, worked like she worked, made a house like she did and created and raised two girls like hers, now carrying on alone. He couldn’t believe any mother wouldn’t be proud of all of that.
“Musta been hard, buddy,” he said softly and her head tilted to the side.
“What?”
“Makin’ a life at seventeen.”
She shook her head, her eyes drifted and her face grew soft when she said, “Tim’s folks weren’t like my folks.” She looked back at him and continued. “They loved him, they loved me, they thought we did the right thing, just too soon. They took me in when my parents kicked me out. We got married in their backyard, sweetest wedding you’ve ever seen.” Her voice got quiet when she said, “His Mom did that.” Her face was still soft with the memories as she went on. “We moved into their garage while Tim went to college. They’d done it up as a TV room and changed it to a bedroom so we could move in, helped me, helped Tim, took care of Kate, the whole shebang. A couple years later, they even built on a big addition at the back where they had their own bedroom, bathroom and living room and pretty much gave us the rest of the house. We didn’t move out until a couple of years after Keira was born. Tim had finished school, was in uniform and, by then, we had a down payment for a house. We moved in down the block from them. They were pretty much in our lives almost daily since I found out I was pregnant.”
Although Cal was relieved she hadn’t had it rough after her parents kicked her out, he didn’t want to talk about this, about her husband, about her life and memories that made her voice go quiet and her face get soft.
Even not wanting it, he still asked, “You still close to them?”
She swallowed and sadness swept the softness from her face. She looked like she looked when he first met her, a look he hadn’t seen in awhile, a look he didn’t like. She missed them being down the street but, mostly, she missed her old life.
“They call, the girls especially, a couple of times a week,” she answered. “I talked to them a lot when we first moved, but not so often now that I’m working full-time. So, no, we’re not close anymore. I’m not fired up to go to Chicago and they aren’t big on travelling so they’ve visited only twice.”
“Chicago’s only four hours away,” Cal pointed out.
“Chicago is where Daniel Hart lives.”
“I wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout you goin’ there, buddy.”