going to turn out to be more like a joint interview than a real meal, or you could let me go back into the living room and tell my parents that your pager went off and you had to leave.”
He gave her a slow smile. “Do you always talk so quickly?”
“I do when I know my mother’s hot on my heels and about to reel you back in. So what’s it going to be? Door Number One or Door Number Two?”
He laughed. “Door Number Two.”
“Deal,” she said, and then just as quickly as she’d separated the good doctor from her mother’s plans, she saw him out. Mere moments later, the purr of an expensive sports car departing the area heralded Lisa’s return to the living room.
“Dr. Jeff got paged about a patient,” she said to her parents.
“Of course he did,” was her mother’s dry reply. “Now may we have dinner?”
“Absolutely. I’ve suddenly rediscovered my appetite.”
Her father’s poorly disguised chuckle didn’t sit well with Lisa’s mom.
“Don’t encourage her, Bob,” she said, giving her husband a light nudge before linking her arm through his.
“Then maybe you should stop ambushing the girl.”
Lisa followed her parents to the dining room and smiled at their loving banter. Forget the degrees and careers and contributions to the community. For all of her parents’ accomplishments, the one that awed her most was that they really, truly loved each other after all these years. If she could pull off that, and only that, she’d feel accomplished, indeed.
Except for the empty place setting in memory of Dr. Jeff, which her mother had declined to let Lisa remove from the table, and for Jamie continuing his safari in the conservatory, their meal followed the course of every other Wednesday. Mom tried to overfeed her, as though there were even a remote chance that while living in a bakery, Lisa couldn’t find enough to sustain herself. As usual, Dad talked River Bandits baseball. During the season, she and her dad took Jamie to see as many of the local minor league team’s games as they could. The park was a kid-friendly place, complete with a playground, and Lisa loved building these traditions with her son.
With the stuffed chicken breast and spinach salad consumed, Lisa stood to begin clearing the table, but her mother stopped her.
“Let’s sit and chat a little as long as Jamie is still having fun with Amber, shall we?”
“Okay.” Lisa sat and scrutinized her parents’ faces. Mom’s was pretty much neutral, but there was something off in her father’s expression. Her overstuffed stomach lurched a bit. “What’s going on? You’re not about to spring something else crazy on me, like a divorce or that I was adopted or something, are you?”
Her mother put one hand to her chest. “Heavens, no!”
Lisa relaxed. “Good. There are some things in life that I need to know won’t change.”
She watched as her mother gave her father a raised-brow prompt to speak. He didn’t appear all that willing.
“Lisa, your mother…well, your mother and I…we wish you’d consider moving back home. We’re not saying you should close the business, we just wish you’d give yourself some distance from it. Jamie loves this house, and it’s your home, too. You belong here.”
“And we could get someone to watch Jamie while you’re at work,” her mother added. “And of course we’d get him to Hillside for school.”
Lisa took a sip of her iced tea to cover her surprise at the course the conversation had taken. Not once, not even after James had died, had her parents suggested she move home. She wanted to ask why the big push now, when she really was back on her feet. But encouraging conversation would leave an opening for her mother, who was a lot more deft and subtle than tonight’s attempt at a date fix-up would indicate. If Lisa wasn’t careful, she might find herself back in her childhood room, still historically intact with its pink gingham canopy bed and My Little Pony dolls.
“Thanks, but it’s covered. Jamie has somebody to watch him, and Courtney does a wonderful job,” she said. “She also has a van and driver to get all the preschoolers where they need to be.”
“We know, but there’s so much we could be doing for you, and for Jamie,” her father said.
She knew that, but she didn’t want any more of their money. Hillside Academy’s tuition she had to swallow for Jamie’s sake. She knew what a benefit a fun and early start to education could be. But that was where she drew a big, fat line. She had paid back their start-up loan for Shortbread Cottage as soon as she’d been able to find other financing. Neither did she want them even unintentionally chipping away at her self-confidence. She was feeling strange enough these days as it was.
“I love you both so much and I know that you worry about me, but you don’t need to. Really. Jamie and I are fine at Shortbread Cottage. It’s our home and we love it.”
“But you’re all alone,” her mother said.
And she’d been achingly alone back when she’d been married, too, but the inner workings of her relationship with James weren’t something she chose to share with anyone. He was dead, and his memory deserved to be honored.
“I’m almost twenty-six, Mom, and totally okay with being alone, if you can call it that. To me, it feels like I never have a moment to myself. But my business is doing well, and Jamie is doing all the things he should at his age. You have to know that I’d come home if I felt that his interests were being endangered in any way, but they’re not.”
“Think about it, at least,” her father suggested.
“Okay,” she said, but was fairly sure that her parents knew she didn’t mean it. And with that, Lisa called an end to Inquisition Night. She wondered, though, if Kevin had been correct. Would she be able to stave off Guilt and Self-recrimination Thursday?
KEVIN, COURTNEY AND SCOTT sat at their usual table in the front window of East Davenport’s favorite gathering place, Malloy’s Pub. Conal Malloy, a man of many talents, drew the best pint of stout for miles, had a great ear for music and eye for darts, and was one of Kevin’s good friends, besides.
Many of Kevin’s best nights had been spent in this comfortable place, with its dark wood paneling, glowing old schoolhouse pendant lights, and the sense that one had been sent back in time once inside its door. Tonight wasn’t among them. Scott was in a wretched mood after a day of prodding the drywallers to finish up at the Clinton project. Courtney kept looking at her watch, and Kevin was bone tired, too.
He’d ended the day at the three small homes in slowly revitalizing Bucktown, just outside of Davenport’s downtown, that the family was rehabbing with the houses’ future owners as part of a community project. Working with amateurs was difficult. He needed to be everywhere at once, making sure that not only was the work being done right, but that everyone was safe.
Kevin looked out the window, thinking it was time to walk home and put this particular day behind him. Just then he saw a little forest-green sedan go by. There were plenty in the area just like it. He knew, though, that this one was Lisa’s. The sun had nearly set, but he could still see her features in the dim light. She looked as tired as he felt, and that was saying a lot. He picked up his pint and drained the last of it, then reached for his wallet.
“I need to get some sleep,” he said to his brother and sister while pulling out enough cash to more than cover their tab.
“Hang around and listen to the next set with me,” Courtney said to Scott when it looked as though he was planning to leave, too.
Scott pushed back his bentwood chair, anyway. “Nah, I really—”
“You really want to hear the music,” Courtney insisted, using the same emphasis that their mom did when she wished to make it clear that her suggestion