“Yeah, but you don’t want to hang around here.”
“I can help out.” She digs into her pocket for a rubber band and starts to tie her hair up in a ponytail. “Just tell me what to do.”
That’s a role reversal, if I’ve ever heard one. She was always the one who told me what to do. After suggesting that she help strip the wallpaper from the front room, I go back downstairs.
I step onto the porch and call Dean on my cell. He answers before the first ring ends, but to his credit he waits for me to bring up the subject of my mother.
“As soon as I’m done here, I’ll call around and find a place for her to stay,” I assure him.
His breath escapes on a sigh. “Okay. You call me if you need me, right?”
“Of course.” My stomach knots. “What time is the meeting?”
“Three.”
“Look, why don’t I come to the Firefly Cottage tonight?” I ask. “I know we have stuff to talk about, and I want to hear about the meeting. No one will bother us there.”
“What time?”
“Seven. But promise me you won’t get all blustery and caveman, okay? Just be cool.”
“As a cucumber, baby.”
Though he forces a light tone and I laugh, the tension between us doesn’t dissipate much. We discuss our plans for the day before I end the call, waving at Max Lyons who is crossing the street with a tray of takeout coffees.
“Trying to stay on your daughter’s good side, huh?” I ask, holding the door open for him.
“You got it. She’s like a piranha if you get on her bad side.” He puts the coffees on a table and looks around at the disarray of the place. “Good start.”
“The tearing down is always easier than the putting back together,” I remark.
He smiles. “But the putting back together is always worth it.”
We both glance up as Allie comes downstairs with her portfolio in hand, Crystal following.
“Liv, your mother was just telling me about her jewelry design,” Allie says, and her worried expression elicits a wave of apprehension in me.
“I offered to help with the murals,” Crystal explains. “Allie said you weren’t sure what to do with the borders, or along the tops of the walls.”
“Um, a few friends of mine are going to help too,” Allie says. “Don’t want there to be too many cooks or anything.”
While I’m grateful that Allie is trying to provide me with an excuse to reject Crystal’s offer, I give her a reassuring shake of my head. It’s not Allie’s job to play referee between me and my mother.
“That’s nice of you,” I tell Crystal. “We’d appreciate your help.”
Allie moves to pick up one of the coffees, shooting me an encouraging, it’ll be okay smile. She introduces her father to Crystal before heading back upstairs.
Max steps forward to shake Crystal’s hand, and I see him look at her with that purely male appreciation that she’s so accustomed to receiving. She’s beautiful with her long hair pulled back to reveal the elegant lines of her neck, wearing a soft, pastel pink T-shirt that stretches across her breasts and slender waist.
To my shock, my reaction is visceral, as my heart kicks into gear and my stomach tenses. That look, that blatant appreciation of her beauty, was always the beginning.
After that, the men would invite Crystal—and me, by extension—into their houses, trailers, apartments. I’d try to be invisible, try not to exist, try not to wonder how long we’d live with this man this time.
Inevitably Crystal would go into the man’s bedroom with him, and I was alone and anxious in another strange place, unable to avoid hearing the moans and grunting as I waited for my mother to come back out again because she was all I had.
I turn away, grabbing a cup of coffee. I take a quick swallow, hoping the heat will burn off the anxiety icing my whole body.
I hurry into the other room, where Brent and his friends are working. I get a wallpaper stripper and start tearing off long strips of paper. Kelsey comes in through the back door, her arms loaded with catalogs of kitchen supplies.
“Marianne asked me to drop these off,” she tells me. “And I took out a few ads for the head chef position, so you should expect applications soon.”
“Great, thanks.” I follow her to the front room, somehow calmer in her no-bullshit presence.
Crystal and Max are still talking, but they break apart when I step in to introduce Kelsey to my mother. Kelsey’s eyes narrow behind her glasses, but her voice is pleasant as she and Crystal exchange greetings.
A rush of affection for Kelsey fills me. Like Allie, she doesn’t know all the details of my relationship with Crystal or my childhood, but she knows it’s both painful and complicated. For her, that’s enough to be wary of my mother.