trip.” Arlene’s mouth thinned into a straight line. The momentary vulnerability Sarah had glimpsed in the older woman’s eyes disappeared.
Sarah hadn’t expected this to be easy. She liked Arlene. When things were good between her and Nate, she had felt they were on the road to becoming friends. But when they separated, Arlene had withdrawn her friendship. Sarah had hurt one of Arlene’s own. That betrayal would not be easily forgiven.
“Mommy!” She looked down to see her son tugging on the leg of her jeans. He was wearing his Spider-Man pajamas that she’d bought for him for his birthday. He was growing so fast they were already an inch too short in the sleeves. He rubbed his eyes and grinned up at her.
“Hi, baby.” She knelt down to give him a hug. If she didn’t make it through the surgery she would consider herself in heaven if she could take the memory of that smile with her into the hereafter.
Arlene’s little granddaughter quit jumping and stared at Matthew with her head tilted to one side. “Who are you?” she asked in a clear piping voice. “What are you doing in Unca’ Nate’s house?”
“Hush, Becca. Is this your son?” Arlene asked.
“Yes. This is Matthew. Matty, this is Mrs. Fowler. Nate’s mother.”
“My father said you had a child with you.” She smiled as she shifted her gaze to the little boy. “Hello, Matty. My name is Arlene.” Sarah relaxed. She should have known that Arlene wouldn’t let whatever animosity she might still feel toward her spill over onto an innocent child. “This is my granddaughter, Rebecca.”
“Hello.” Shyness overcame him. He hid his face against Sarah’s thigh.
Arlene’s charge had no such problem. “I’m Becca. Who are you?”
Sarah gave Matty a little nudge. One eye peeped out. “Matthew David Taylor. I’m three years old.” Matthew enunciated each word loudly and clearly.
“Me, too.” Becca dropped the Barbies she was carrying and held up three chubby fingers on each hand.
“She’s Tessa’s, isn’t she?” Sarah smiled down at the little girl. She would have liked a daughter someday, to dress in pink satin.
Arlene smiled, too. It was instantaneous and genuine, and reminded Sarah once more how fiercely devoted to her children Nate’s mother was.
“Yes. She’s expecting another at New Year’s. A boy.”
“I’m glad for her.”
“I want toast,” Matty announced.
“Yea, toast,” Becca chimed, as she bent over to retrieve her dollies.
“Becca, you had breakfast already. Twice. Once with your mom and once more with me and Grandpa Tom.” Arlene smoothed her hand indulgently over Becca’s fine, flyaway curls as she spoke.
“Still hungry,” Becca insisted.
“Why don’t you come in and wait for Nate,” Sarah offered, stepping back from the open door, then wished she hadn’t when she saw Arlene’s smile disappear. The words and gesture must have seemed too much like an invitation to a home that wasn’t her own. “I…I’m sure he’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“I’m here now,” Nate said coming up onto the deck that served as his front porch. It was roomy, stained silvery-gray to match the outside of the mobile home. The color scheme inside was predominately gray, too. Nate had painted all the paneling a creamy white above, and charcoal below. The carpet was the color of smoke, as was the overstuffed sofa and recliner that, along with a couple of lamps and tables and a big-screen TV, were the only furniture in the living room. The kitchen appliances were stainless steel, the countertops faux black granite. Even the built-in banquette, whose back contained open shelving that separated the living and kitchen areas, was upholstered in gray vinyl.
Those shelves were mostly empty, Sarah had noticed right away. There weren’t any knickknacks on the tables or pictures on the walls. Nate had never liked clutter, she remembered. She, on the other hand, loved light and color, and liked to cover every surface with all manner of odd or pretty things she picked up at flea markets and yard sales. They used to argue over her pack-rat tendencies, but like everything they had fallen out about, they’d always ended their disagreement by making up and making love. The strength and clarity of the memory caught her by surprise. She hadn’t thought about sex in months and months. Had figured she would never think about it again, but apparently she’d been wrong.
“Nate, what’s this all about?” Arlene’s voice demanded attention. “What’s she doing here? What’s going on?”
NATE SAW the stricken look on Sarah’s face and knew the reason for it. The old saw about little pitchers having big ears might be a cliché, but it was also right on the money. Matty and Becca were staring at the adults with intense interest.
“Hey, Becca Boo Jones. What are you doing here?”
She held out her arms, a naked Barbie in each hand. “Hi, Unca Nate.”
“Aren’t your dollies cold?” Nate knew the dolls had clothes. He’d spent a ridiculous amount of money outfitting one for Becca’s birthday last spring. He dropped stiffly to one knee wincing at the pain in his bad ankle. She gave him a big hug, poking him in the ribs with Barbie arms, squinching up her face with the effort.
“Whoa,” he said. “That’s a good one.”
“I want toast.” She loosened her grip a little. “So does that boy.” Her tone dripped with suspicion. She pointed a Barbie in Matty’s direction. “Why’s he here?”
“He and Sarah are staying with me for awhile. Sarah, would you make Becca and Matty some toast while I explain what’s happening to Mom?”
Sarah gave him a grateful look. “C’mon, Becca. Do you like jelly on your toast?”
“No,” Becca said firmly. “Cin’mon sweetie.”
“She means cinnamon sugar. There’s a shaker of the stuff in the first cupboard on the left. I keep it especially for this little monster.” Nate gave Becca a gentle little push. “Go on inside. You’re letting out all the warm air.”
Becca hesitated. “Where are you going, Grandma?” she asked.
“Just to the barn…to look at the motorcycle. We’ll be back before you’re done eating your toast.”
“Okay.” She stood nose to nose with Sarah’s son. “You want to play with me?”
Matty eyed the dolls with disapproval. “Not with dolls,” he said with disdain. “Where’s their clothes? It’s cold outside.”
“My dog ate them,” Becca said. “And then he throwed them up. My mom throwed up, too, when she had to clean up the mess. She’s going to have a baby. A boy. Right after Santa Claus comes. Right, Grandma?”
“New Year’s Day,” Arlene confirmed.
“That’s nice.” Sarah put her hand on Becca’s shoulder and urged her inside.
“I’d
