“But you’re not wearing any lipstick.”
“I’m wearing gloss. And I was working.”
“You should always have lipstick on beneath,” Tammy said. “Especially when you’re working. It gives you color and pizzazz.”
“Carla wasn’t wearing any,” Aubrey said, “and you didn’t bug her about it.”
“Yes, well, I’m a little afraid of Carla, to be honest.”
Aubrey laughed.
“Are you telling me she doesn’t scare you?” Tammy asked, smiling.
“She scares the crap out of me,” Aubrey admitted, and they both laughed. And then her mom went back to her favorite topic. “There’s really no reason to slack off on how you look, you know. Even if you’re working your tush off. How many times have I told you: If you look good, then life is good.”
Aubrey suppressed her sigh. “I look fine.”
Tammy looked pained at this. “You know how I feel about that word.”
Fine was reserved for bad hair days. “I’m not on a modeling job, Mom.”
“Well you should be,” Tammy said. “You’d make a fortune. Goodness, you were on such a roll with the beauty contests. You could’ve gone all the way, honey. You could have become a model.”
“I love what I’m doing now,” Aubrey said, shuddering at the memory of her modeling days.
“That’s wonderful,” Tammy told her. “But I’m just saying. You’re so pretty, baby. And your figure! You could have done catalogs. You could have been one of those angels for Victoria’s Secret.”
Aubrey laughed.
“I’m serious!”
Sad thing was, Tammy was serious. And she could have no idea, but Aubrey had given modeling a try. There’d been some lowbrow modeling, which had led to some lowerbrow modeling, which had led to some things that Aubrey tried very hard not to think about, though she had managed to pay for most of her college tuition that way. “Modeling isn’t for me,” she said firmly.
Tammy sighed. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
“I just want you to be taken care of,” Tammy said.
“I’m perfectly taken care of, Mom. By myself.”
Tammy smiled. “Oh, I know. You’re so strong, Aubrey. So independent. I know you’ve had to be. Sometimes I worry we did the wrong thing, your dad and I, splitting you two up like we did the furniture and silver.”
“You did what you had to,” Aubrey said.
“For me,” Tammy agreed. “I loved you both so much, but your father and I…we were on track to kill each other. I just figured the best thing was to split everything up, including you girls. And when it worked out so well, your sister with your daddy and you with me, it just got easy to not switch around so often.”
“Or at all,” Aubrey said mildly.
Tammy sighed. “Or at all.”
“Dad wasn’t much for following the rules.”
“Your daddy isn’t the only one at fault,” Tammy said softly. “I know it hurt you that he didn’t have much time for you, but he was so busy working at the hospital, and his work was so important. Your sister is so much better suited to that life. I always meant to get me another man so you’d have a father figure, but that never really worked out.”
“Mom, it’s fine. It’s all water under the bridge.”
“Well, now, that’s what I’ve always thought,” Tammy said. “You were so popular at school.”
More like notorious…
“You had boyfriends. And you dated in college. You always seemed to have a date.”
Aubrey loved her mom, she truly did, but Aubrey had gone to college in Seattle while working at various admin jobs. Not very far away in the scheme of things, but since Tammy rarely—if ever—left Lucky Harbor, Aubrey might as well have been on the moon. In all honesty, Tammy had no idea what Aubrey’s college life had been like.
“And then you got that fancy job at the town hall. I thought for sure you’d find yourself a fancy man to go with it and finally give me grandchildren.”
“Mom—”
“No, honey, let me finish. Every job you’ve ever had, you excelled at. Anything you’ve ever wanted, you got for yourself. You’re so capable. So strong. But you’re acting like…what do they say? An island.”
Every once in a while, a shockingly deep and wise kernel of wisdom came out of her mom’s mouth. “There’s nothing wrong with relying on myself,” she said in response. She couldn’t be disappointed in someone else that way. “I’m really okay, Mom. I promise.”
“Well, I have eyes in my head, don’t I? I can see that you’re good. But it’s okay to let someone in sometimes, you know. Being independent and strong and having to do everything yourself is one thing. But you shouldn’t have to be all on your own, always. You can let people in, let down your guard. Have more friends. Be less stressed…”
Aubrey smiled. “I’m not stressed. I love the store. And I’m not alone, either. I have you.”
“Aw, honey.” Tammy’s eyes went shiny, and she tilted her head back and blinked rapidly while waving a hand near her face. “Don’t you dare make me cry—I’m not wearing waterproof mascara today.”
Aubrey left her mom’s place feeling like a stuffed sausage—reminiscent of a time years ago when she’d felt that way every night. She took the long way back to the shop, by way of the bluffs—which actually wasn’t on her way home at all. It was at least ten miles out of her way.
The houses up here were expensive. Ritzy. Gorgeous.
Her dad lived at the end of a cul-de-sac in a huge, sprawling two-story house he’d had built to spec a few years ago, designed for his second wife.
Aubrey didn’t pull all the way down to the end of the street; she didn’t want to give herself away. Feeling like a ridiculous stalker, she eyed the lit-up house and felt her pulse kick. On the big front porch, with all the pretty hanging lights, sat a huge dollhouse. A big, perfect, gorgeous, fancy, clearly outrageously expensive dollhouse.
And it was forgotten on the porch, looking a little wet from the elements and dirty.
Her heart squeezed. Not hers, she told herself. Not anything like hers.
Hers had been much smaller, made of cheap plastic and cardboard. But she’d loved it. She’d loved it so much. Somehow it’d gotten lost in the divorce shuffle and subsequent move, and she’d mourned its loss more than the loss of her family’s togetherness. How silly was that?
But seeing this perfect dollhouse, neglected, unloved, brought it all back. That’s how she’d felt after the divorce, too. Neglected. Unloved.
Suddenly there was activity in the yard, which was lit by the house and porch lights, and she went still as stone, as though that would make her invisible.
But the three occupants on the frozen grass didn’t so much as turn her way or pay the slightest bit of attention to her.
It was her dad and Aubrey’s two half sisters, Brittney and Katrina, ages four and six. They were in matching dresses and wool coats. Her dad was in a suit and overcoat, looking neat and unruffled as ever, and they were all chasing around after a little puppy.
Aubrey felt sucker punched in the gut. She actually bent over with the pain, her hands on the steering wheel, her mouth open and gaping as though she were a hooked fish.