Before I Say Goodbye Page 4

  I grinned, unable to resist baiting her. “August is so hot in Utah.”

  “Oh, but the air conditioning makes it a little cold in here sometimes.”

  Not today. Today was stifling, and I was probably the only one the least bit comfortable. “I’ll try to find something warmer,” I said. “We’ve been living in California, you know. Mostly, I go around in my bikini top, it’s so sweltering.”

  Her eyes widened, and I had to look away not to laugh aloud. She was too easy a target.

  “Well, that won’t work for church,” she said quickly.

  “Oh, right. I think I remember you teaching something like that in Sunday School.” I hadn’t really, but a flash of memory came to me now, making me feel woozy. Or maybe that was the new medication my doctor had given me for the migraines. “Well, see you next week.”

  I made my way past the throng of sisters and down to the foyer where an angry-looking Kyle was waiting, her arms folded over her chest like a protection. For a moment she was me, as I cowed under my father’s biting words.

  “Hi, sweetie,” I said brightly. “How was it?”

  She leaned into me. “Horrible. The boys are all snobby and preppy. Everyone is so, so . . .” Apparently, she didn’t have enough words, or maybe she was trying not to swear.

  “What about Allia? She seemed nice enough.”

  “I guess. But I’m not really supposed to be in her class since I don’t turn fourteen until next year. I’m not ever going alone. Please tell me we don’t have to come back here.”

  Her voice was loud enough that people I didn’t recognize were paying attention to our conversation. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “I’m not coming back! And I’m not wearing this stupid skirt ever again.”

  There was nothing wrong with the skirt that I could see, though now that she mentioned it, some of the looks we were getting seemed to be directed at Kyle’s clothing. Maybe the teens here weren’t like I’d been. “We’ll get you another skirt.” I didn’t know where the money would come from until I got paid. I didn’t know how I’d even get Kyle anything new for school before it started this week. Maybe they had a secondhand store nearby. I wondered if I dared use the food money. I wasn’t often hungry these days anyway.

  “There you are.” Becca appeared behind me, moving with an ease I envied. “Dante has to stay after for a bit, but he’ll be home for dinner before he comes back for interviews.”

  “Interviews.” I wrinkled my nose. “Weird to think of Dante doing interviews.”

  She laughed. “That’s what he says. Come on, kids.”

  “Can James ride with us, Mom?” asked Becca’s little girl, whose name I couldn’t remember.

  “He’ll have to ask his mom.”

  “Please, Mom.” James smiled up at me, and I nodded even though I didn’t want to let him go. I didn’t want to share my boy with anyone. Except I knew I’d have to. That was the plan.

  “That’s fine. We’ll follow you in the truck.”

  Outside, Becca eyed my old blue Ford. “I didn’t realize you still had all your things loaded.”

  “We haven’t had time to unpack yet. There’s a rented trailer, too, that I unhooked, but I want to get things cleaned at the house first before I bring anything in.” I grinned. “I was thinking we’d spend tonight in our tree house.”

  “Yay!” James bounced up and down, and I felt the kind of happiness that came only from making him happy.

  “You have a tree house?” Lauren asked. “I have a slide and fort that my daddy built, but they’re not in a real tree. Mom, can I sleep in our fort? I bet the boys would sleep out with me.”

  “No.” Becca rolled her eyes. “Go to the van. Now.”

  “Aw, Mom.”

  I laughed. Funny how alike kids were.

  A brooding Kyle and I followed Becca’s van to Dante’s house, less than a block from the church. It wasn’t at all like a house I’d expect him to build—brown stucco, dark gutters and trim around the eaves, lighter trim around the window, exactly spaced trees, a manicured lawn—but then maybe my dreams of our future house had never matched his. I’d have wanted bright colors, numerous pine trees in the yard even if their needles killed the lawn, a pond with ducks and goldfish. Thick brush that could house birds and squirrels or feed deer. A place you could let down your hair and have parties your neighbors couldn’t see through the trees. I wouldn’t at all be comfortable in Dante and Becca’s house. My friends wouldn’t be comfortable here—if I had any friends left. Only the flower beds, spilling over with a riot of colors and blossoms, were my kind of landscaping. It reminded me of something breaking free.

  As I thought about it, I decided the impulsive boy who’d come to my window at night wouldn’t have been comfortable here, either, but this place radiated the man he’d become, the man he’d started to be from the day he’d made the choice that had me packing my bags to leave Utah. It wasn’t a bad house. In fact, it was welcoming, beautiful, organized. A place I wish I could be comfortable in. It might not be too late for my children to feel comfortable in a place like this.

  “Nice house,” Kyle said, her frown slipping for the first time since we left church.

  I shrugged. “Yeah, but they don’t have a tree house, and I bet you have to eat breakfast every morning. Pancakes, maybe.”

  She grimaced. “Or oatmeal. Then again, it could be bacon.”

  “Every morning? I don’t think so. They’d all be fat.”

  Kyle’s non-frown turned into a grin, and the next second we were laughing. Our glee didn’t last long, though, and Kyle’s sullen expression returned the minute she jumped down from the van. I made a silly face at her, but she didn’t respond.

  “Come on, come on, come on!” I heard Lauren shouting to James as we went into the garage where Becca had parked her van. “Come see my fort.”

  “Not until you change, Lauren Michelle Rushton.”

  “Mom!” Lauren whined, but she closed the garage door to the backyard and headed up a short flight of stairs into the house.

  I’d never have gotten away with that. My kids would have had me out to the fort so fast and involved in some game that I’d never remember about Sunday clothes. Who cared about clothes? All they did was cover you, right?

  The air-conditioned coolness in the house felt a little too cold against my bare arms. I wasn’t accustomed to air conditioning. The swamp cooler cost too much at our old apartment to use for very long. I didn’t know if my father had installed air conditioning in the old house, but even if he hadn’t, we’d probably have only one uncomfortable month before fall and cooler weather. I didn’t plan to be around here another summer.

  We passed through a mudroom and into a kitchen. “Make yourselves comfortable,” Becca said. “We do crock pot on Sundays, so all I have to make now is a salad. Allia!”

  “Right here, Mom.” The girl appeared from the hallway. “I know. I’ll help.”

  “Cory, set the table.”

  He groaned. “Where’s Travis? He’s supposed to help. I always have to do everything.”

  “Everything?” Becca laughed. “Oh, so it was you who put everything in the crock pot this morning—and who made the pancakes for breakfast.”

  I gave Kyle a smirk at the mention of pancakes, but she didn’t respond. I knew she felt out of her comfort zone, but she would have to get over it—sooner rather than later. The thought threatened to dump depression over me like a bucketful of mud, but I’d made my choices, too, and Kyle and James would have to live with those choices.

  “Anyway,” Becca continued, “Travis had to stay for a meeting with the priests, so”—her eyes fell on Kyle—“maybe Kyle will help you set the table. Kyle?”

  My daughter’s eyes widened slightly at the request, but her sullen expression eased. “Sure,
” she said, which is kid talk for “If I have to.”

  “The dishes are over here,” Cory said, smiling. His eyes were the brown color of Dante’s, but otherwise he didn’t look much like his father. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  The inside of Becca’s house was a lot like the outside. Not elaborate but well-kept with a touch of elegance. The stainless steel refrigerator was what I liked best, not for the smooth finish or because the freezer was on the bottom, but because of the numerous drawings, papers, and magnets. It reminded me of the overflowing, riotous flower beds.

  I smiled.

  “I know it’s a mess,” Becca said, seeing my gaze, “but with so many of us running here and there, I have a tendency to forget if it’s not on the fridge. And Lauren likes to draw pictures—a lot of pictures.”

  “I like it,” I said. “Is there anything I can help with?”

  “Oh, no. Allia and I’ll take care of the salad. That’s all we have left.”

  “Come outside with me, Mom.” James took my hand. I glanced at Becca, who tipped her head toward a sliding glass door that led to a wood patio outside the kitchen.

  Lauren blew past us, still in a dress, but one that looked more casual. A play dress, maybe. “I’ll show you.”

  We hurried after her. The heat felt oppressing after the coolness inside, but my arms were thankful for the change.

  “I’m so lucky you guys came,” Lauren said. “Mom never lets me come out here and play on Sunday. Only when my cousins come over, like when I got baptized. Race you!”

  “Just try to beat me!” I said, going into a sprint.

  Lauren laughed. “I’m going to win!”

  She didn’t because my legs were longer. Casting me a scowl, she climbed up a rope ladder into the little fort. James struggled up a short wall with handholds. I took the slide.

  “Hey, you’re not supposed to go up the slide,” Lauren said.

  “Is that what your mom says?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but I do it anyway. She doesn’t really care. Except if kids are trying to come down.”

  “Look at this slide, Mom!” James poked his head in a tunnel entrance. “Cool.” He dived in and disappeared. Lauren tumbled after him.

  I lay on the floor of the fort, my arms out. Maybe I could have been comfortable in a place like this after all. It was too late, of course. Too late for me—with Dante or without him. Too late for me with the children. But they wouldn’t make the same choices I had. I would see to that.

  I shut my eyes and floated, letting my brain drift. The children’s voices and giggles lulled me into a peaceful state where I didn’t have to worry about unpacking or working or anything else.

  “Your mom’s cool,” I heard Lauren say from a long distance away. “I wish my mom would sleep outside with me.”

  “Yeah, my mom’s the coolest.”

  I wasn’t. Cool moms always took care of their children and didn’t leave it to others. If I was really cool, James would be able to read. Somehow I would have been able to reach past his problems and help him.

  I give him what I can.

  Too bad that was so stinking little.

  I shut my eyes tighter, and a tear squeezed out. I let myself drift into the darkness until the children’s voices faded completely.

  “Rikki?”

  My eyes opened, and I rolled my head toward the sound of Dante’s voice. It wasn’t my Dante, though. It was an older man with Dante’s eyes. Becca’s Dante.

  Not the dream, then.

  I pushed myself to a seated position. “Oh, hi.”

  “Dinner’s ready. You okay?”

  “Sure.” I smiled to show I was. “Nothing like driving all night to make you sleepy. Must have dozed off.”

  Dante laughed. “Since when did you start sleeping outside?”

  “I never stopped. I always sleep wherever I want.”

  His face froze for a moment before relaxing. “I’d forgotten that.”

  Was he remembering the time I’d slept in the bushes outside his house? We’d made the small space up with blankets and a tarp so it wasn’t too cold there even for November. By the time the snow fell, my dad was calm enough for me to go home again.

  “Need help?” he asked, his voice gentle.

  “I’m okay.” No way I wanted him touching me. Not that I was still in love with him or anything—I was long past needing him that way. I just didn’t want him to sense the truth. Not yet. He’d know soon enough.

  “Well, everyone’s waiting. The kids were calling for you, but I guess you didn’t hear.”

  I gave a huge yawn and straightened my clothing before going down the slide, feeling only slightly dizzy. My skirt went up a bit, but Dante had predictably averted his eyes.

  Everyone was at the dining room table off the kitchen. The dark wood of the table matched the baseboards and the frames of the family portraits on the wall. I didn’t believe in pictures because the people they portrayed didn’t exist. They changed and moved on before the picture was even printed.

  My eyes went to Kyle so we could share a smirk, but she was gazing at Dante’s oldest son, her expression completely entranced. Uh-oh. I hadn’t counted on that. I didn’t blame her, though. Travis was Dante in miniature except for the eyes—handsome, teasing, and polite even to a thirteen-year-old obviously nursing a crush. Could he ever be interested in Kyle, given the worlds that separated them? Either way, her infatuation might mess up my plan.

  Back then Dante and I had come from the same world. Both of us had been poor, lost, alone, and without parental guidance except for the adults in the Church who had taken us in. We’d been stronger together; neither of us would have survived without the other. I wanted that stability for Kyle and James but not from Travis. He would never need her the way she would need someone.

  “Shall we pray?” Dante looked at Becca, who nodded.

  “It’s Travis’s turn.”

  The food was good, and Becca hadn’t stretched the truth when she’d said there’d be enough. She and her daughters ate little, and while Kyle, James, and Travis more than made up for their lack of interest, there was still plenty left over. I wasn’t hungry, but I forced down a few bites for politeness’ sake. I was grateful the children would be fed and I wouldn’t have to scrounge up anything more tonight.

  “So, you mentioned a job?” Dante said before drinking the last of his milk.

  I shrugged. “Nothing special. Data entry. It pays the bills.”

  A smile tugged at his lips. “I never figured you for data entry.” He turned to Becca. “This is the girl who hated computer class so badly she kept dreaming up ways to put a virus on the school’s computer. Unfortunately, all it ever got us was detention.”

  “Detention?” Allia’s eyes went wide. She was beautiful with that dark hair and Dante’s brown eyes.

  “My fault, not your father’s,” I said. “He was trying to protect me.” He’d always tried to protect me.

  “Wow, Dad. Detention.” Travis grabbed another roll.

  “Don’t get any bright ideas,” Becca warned.

  “I get detention all the time,” Kyle took her eyes off Travis long enough to say.

  I kicked her under the table. “Kyle.”

  “Well, I do. I’m not exactly ditching class all the time, either. Sometimes I’m taking care of James.”

  “I can take care of myself.” James let his fork clatter to the table. “I do it all the time.”

  Kyle rolled her eyes. “Sure you do. Anyway, school’s a waste of time.”

  Silence.

  Becca looked at Dante and he looked back at her before his gaze shifted to me. Right, I was the parent of this renegade child, the one who should correct her before she corrupted their perfect children.

  “Well, it i
s a waste sometimes,” I began.

  Travis barked a laugh. “You won’t be able to sell that in this house.” He stood, scooping up his dirty dishes and heading for the kitchen. “If I sluffed school, I’d be grounded for a week.”

  “A month,” Allia corrected.

  Nodding and grinning, Travis disappeared, and we heard the dishwasher opening and closing. Cory jumped up and followed his brother with his own dishes. I wondered how Becca got them to do that. Kyle and I had a tendency to use every dish in the house before we bought ourselves a couple of chocolate bars to help us tackle the mess.

  I could feel the weight of Dante and Becca’s stares. “I meant, well, like who cares where Benin is? Have you ever heard of that country before? I didn’t before I had to do a report on it, and knowing about it never once helped me get a job.” I didn’t think I was doing myself any favors, but I had to continue. “I don’t even remember where the, uh, country is, so it was a waste of time.”

  Kyle grinned at me, and I knew she’d noticed me swallow that cuss word. Probably Becca and Dante didn’t miss it, either.

  I needed another nap.

  Dante cleared his throat and looked at Becca again. She stopped chewing her lip and said, “Well, I guess there are some things that have questionable value in a classroom, but for the most part school prepares you for the future. Regardless of what you are learning, doing hard things trains you for real life.”

  “Exactly,” Dante said. “I learned more about finishing large projects when I did them than what the project was actually about. It’s what gets me through those big projects now.” He arose and leaned over to kiss Becca’s cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, honey. I don’t have many interviews.”

  “I’ll see you later then.” She handed him the suit jacket from the back of her chair.

  The affection between them was obvious, and the years of living together had made their movements complementary, from the way they handled their children to the way she passed him the jacket.

  If I’d stayed, would we be like that now? I didn’t think so. I’d never have been happy living in one place. I liked to move. I liked to get out and discover. Live. But there had always been something of permanence in Dante. He was who he always would have been—without the crazy girl leading him astray. At least that’s what I was depending on.