Beth agreed. “Past history is past history.”
Beth’s cleaning service came once a week for vacuuming, mopping, polishing—all the heavy work—but the daily bed making, bath cleaning and tidying up, Beth did, and today she found Kayla a real help. They finished in half the time and began to move Kayla’s and Adam’s things into the small downstairs bed-sitter.
Adam fell in love with the bed-sitter on sight, especially when she and Kayla opened the queen-size sofa bed to put on the sheets and blanket.
“Izziz our house now?” he asked, looking around the small room. There was the made-up sofa bed, a small chest of drawers, a pretty chair and the wide window seat that magically opened up to reveal the big empty space below the seat. He had already discovered the basin with running water behind the folding screen. He was standing in the center of the room, legs spread out, hands on hips, like a tiny lord of the manor. Beth had to admit he was kind of cute.
Kayla laughed at him. “This is our house for the time being. You know, I told you this morning that I had to go away for a while, but just a little while. Beth’s going to take care of you. Remember what I told you. Don’t play dumb now.”
Because suddenly the little lord of the manor was scowling fiercely.
“It’s just for a little while,” Kayla repeated placatingly. “I’ll be back. You know when I leave I always come back.”
Beth wondered how many times Kayla had left him “for a little while.” With whom had she left him? How well had he been cared for? It took an effort to remain silent. Kayla wouldn’t be gone for a little while. She’d be gone for three months in rehab. Three months would be forever to a small child. Well, somehow she would have to deal with it. Anything was possible…for Doug.
When they finished in the bed-sitter, Doug remembered the box of toys Beth kept for grandchildren’s visits. He brought it into the room. Adam was fascinated. Had he never had toys of his own? Beth wondered. Doug sat down on the floor to show him how to connect the bits of yellow plastic with which Ben, Jill’s little boy, built and dismantled wonderful structures when he was here.
They had almost finished in the bed-sitter when the doorbell chimed twice in quick succession. Eleven-thirty. That would be Jill, Beth thought. She always pushed the bell twice. Hard. Please, God, let this work out.
There was an interval of happy chaos as Beth and Doug introduced everyone. She watched carefully, hoping that Kayla would not be intimidated by her daughters. Jill, tall and beautiful, with her striking dark hair and eyes. And Kate, only five feet tall and to anyone but a mother probably rather plain, and very pregnant.
They came in carrying plastic and foil-wrapped containers, which Doug took charge of and carried to the kitchen for their lunch later.
“Everything in plastic goes in the fridge,” Kate called after him. “The big box has tomorrow’s muffins for the B and B folks.” Then they all settled in the large living room. Adam, suddenly surrounded by strangers, stayed close to Kayla’s legs, looking at everyone with a steady frown. A sudden thought popped into Beth’s mind. What had made this little boy suspicious of the whole world?
“I should have brought Meggie,” Jill said, smiling graciously at Kayla. “Then Adam would have someone to play with. She’s four. But I left her with my support group. We all help each other out with baby-sitting now and then. We’re all former career women who have put our work on hold until our kids are grown.”
Kayla looked at her blankly, and Doug intervened to explain that Jill had been a successful restaurant owner early in her marriage.
Beth mentally sighed. It wasn’t working. Lunch was going to be a disaster. Both her girls were trying too hard to be nice to Kayla, and Kayla was trying to respond, her little boy pressed against her legs looking like a small thunder-cloud. Neither Jill nor Kate could forget that Kayla hadn’t shown up for the wedding and—clearly—her arrival now had been a complete surprise to Doug. Kayla was tense and on guard, obviously feeling inferior to all these people and their successful lives, and resenting it deeply. I’d better talk to the girls about this, Beth thought. But what can I say to them? Each daughter, in her own way, was doing her best in an awkward situation.
What would Cyrus say? Suddenly she was thinking of her pastor. Dear God, help Cyrus get well soon. Cyrus had always been there for them, all of them. If only she could call Cyrus’s well-known number, knowing he would pick up the phone at the other end. Ah, Beth, how can I help you, my dear? Then she could pour out her worries to him, counting on his kindness, his loving knowledge of the predicaments human beings got themselves into, his willingness to advise, to guide, to help. By sheer willpower she shut out thoughts of Cyrus and made herself pay attention to the here and now.
They labored through lunch. She could sense Doug’s discomfort. Jill, whose talent for working with people of all sorts in her business, was still being too cordial. And Kate, who couldn’t hide her obvious growing irritation as Adam ate his own lunch in installments. He kept getting down, wandering away, then coming back to the table. Each time, Doug had to get up to lift him back onto the booster seat on his chair. Kate’s children were better rule-obeyers than Jill’s, or anyone else’s, for that matter, and she managed to do it in such a way that her children didn’t seem to resent the discipline.
Lunch ended on a rather contentious note. Doug had looked at his watch for perhaps the fifth time.
“We’ve got to cut out, love,” he said to Beth. “Kayla and I have an appointment. We’re going to have to leave the clearing up to you.”
“That’s all right,” Beth said quickly, trying not to sound relieved. “We’ll make out fine.” She stopped herself from asking about the appointment, but Kayla spoke out, more loudly than necessary. There was defiance in her tone.
“My dad and I have an appointment at a rehab clinic.” She turned to Jill and Kate, adding deliberately, “I have a drinking problem. I don’t know if Dad has mentioned it to you or not.” Then, as if this hadn’t been enough to startle both Jill and Kate, she added coldly, “I’m a drunk.”
“Oh, come now,” Beth said weakly, as she saw the stunned expressions on her daughters’ faces. Doug had never actually explained to them what Kayla’s problems were.
Jill, always the quickest in the Bennett family, tried to rescue the situation. “Good,” she said decisively. “If you think it’s become a problem, then treatment is probably your best course. Good for you.” She reached over and patted Kayla’s hand.
“It’s a preliminary interview,” Doug said uncomfortably. “We’ll be back later, but we need to make arrangements and so on.”
Kate had recovered her poise. “How long will it take, Kayla?” she asked politely.
“The brochure said three months,” Kayla answered, and then added with a hint of venom. “Beth’s going to take care of Adam while I’m gone.”
“We’d better get going,” Doug said hurriedly, getting up.
But as Adam realized that Kayla and Doug were leaving without him, he began to cry. He had to be pulled away from Kayla.
After they had gone and Adam had quieted down—Jill was very good with small children—Beth prepared herself to answer questions. They came immediately.
“Did she call? Write? Give you any notice at all? Did she just show up? What kind of person just
