Judy admitted. She clenched and unclenched her fists, and her gaze grew distant. “Sometimes, when I wake up in the middle of the night, I wonder where Candy is or if I’ll ever see her again.” She paused. “I’m so sorry. About Steve. I—”
“In my heart, I know Steve is safe now and happy. He’s Home,” Barbara whispered. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you. Madge told me Candy is in a hospital somewhere in California, but her husband couldn’t tell you where or how soon she’ll be released.”
Judy took a deep breath. “She’s in rehab. She’s been in and out of rehab for years. I couldn’t tell you how many times. I’d lost count long before Frank died and she showed up for his viewing stoned and out of control. She left in the middle of the night and didn’t even bother showing up for the funeral. I haven’t heard a word from her since. She’s somewhere in California. I don’t know where. Her husband couldn’t or wouldn’t tell me. That’s my nightmare…not knowing…being half afraid I’ll never see her again and being half afraid she’ll show up on my doorstep, stoned or high, demanding to take Brian back into that life again. That’s another nightmare.”
She sighed. “It’s hard being a mother again, but I won’t ever let him go back with her unless I’m absolutely certain he’ll be safe.”
“I’m sorry. Truly sorry,” Barbara whispered. “Have you given any thought to hiring a detective to find her, just to make sure she’s all right?”
Judy picked up the bottle of hair dye and turned it round and round in her hand. “Detectives cost money—money better spent, if I had it, for Brian. As it is, putting him into day care for most of the summer used up whatever I had saved. It’s better now that school has started. I had to hire a sitter for Saturdays, even though it’s usually pretty slow and I lose money because the Saturday crowd has switched to the new salon that does both hair and nails. The after-school program is less expensive, but it’s still a strain on my budget. I’m not complaining, though. Brian is all I’ve got left of Candy. He’s my flesh and blood, and I’ll care for him and protect him any way I have to.”
Barbara clenched her own hands. “Sometimes my imagination runs wild, and I have these dreams about Steve’s ex-wife suddenly appearing and taking the children away, even though she hasn’t tried to contact them since she walked out on them three years ago. They’re all I have left of Steve. I don’t want to lose them, too.”
She swallowed hard, all too aware of the similar challenges she and Judy seemed to be facing. Barbara’s loss, with Steve’s death, might be very public, splashed in the newspapers for all to read about, while Judy’s was more private and perhaps more painful to bear because she was all alone in her grief and struggles. But they both shared the common bond of dealing with the loss of a child, one to death, the other to drugs; their fears about losing their grandchildren; and the ongoing problems of keeping them and adjusting to being mothers again instead of grandmothers. Alone, they struggled in their new roles. Perhaps together, as friends, they might share the struggle and find the path of rediscovered motherhood easier to travel.
Judy held up the bottle of hair dye and read the label. “Summer Sunrise. That’s your color, right?” she asked, changing the subject back to the task at hand.
Barbara nodded.
“Just checking. I’d rather find out now instead of later.”
“Good idea. Maybe while you’re coloring my hair, you could give me some idea of a new style that would be easier to manage?”
When Judy cocked a brow, Barbara smiled. “A little change might be good,” she murmured. “Maybe it’s time for some good change. For both of us.”
Judy cocked the other brow. “For both of us?”
Barbara smiled, but only time would tell if her hopes for a stronger friendship between them would be fulfilled.
Chapter Six
A week after her near-disastrous visit to Grandmother’s Kitchen, Judy was on her way to the Towers, and her life was back on schedule. Again. The trouble was that her schedule today seemed to get a little more unsettled and much more complicated with each passing hour.
First, she had overslept this morning, always a bad start to the day. Brian had been late to school by a whopping fifteen minutes, which meant he had to enter the first grade classroom with all of the children already working at their desks.
In between a rush of unscheduled appointments, she had left another message for Mrs. Worth, the school principal, the third in as many days, but the woman did not seem in any hurry to call her back. Judy had met with the school guidance counselor last week and had the first appointment for Brian with a private counselor set for five o’clock this afternoon. Apparently Judy’s efforts to report all she was doing to arrange for counseling for Brian ranked low on the principal’s list of priorities.
She arrived at the Towers just before one o’clock, right on time, and got buzzed into the office. She took one step inside, looked around at the lavish display of Mickey Mouse decorations that adorned the office: A clock, computer screensaver, coffee mug and even planters holding foliage worthy of blue ribbons at the annual Philadelphia Flower Show. Mickey was on everything!
She grinned. A touch of Disney was just what she needed today. “What a happy place! I always love coming here, Penny, especially after a rough day.”
The office manager for the past fourteen years, Penny looked up from her seat behind the shoulder-high counter and laughed. “It’s only one o’clock in the afternoon. The day is still young,” she cautioned. She got up, retrieved Judy’s canvas bag with the tools of her trade she kept stored in the office, and lifted the bag to the counter. She looked at Judy and frowned. “What? No baked goods from McAllister’s today? Or are you bringing them later?”
Judy rolled her eyes. “No. Unfortunately, that’s only one small part of my day so far. I had a rough morning. Mrs. Sweeney came in for her weekly touch-up, with three elderly cousins visiting from Florida. Then they all wanted a cut, wash and dry. They even brought their husbands along. Ann’s been sidelined with gout again for the past two days, so I had to handle Mrs. Sweeney and company, who proceeded to eat their way through almost the entire box of baked goods.”
“Ann’s laid up with gout? Again?”
“Again.”
“Poor Ann. I’ll try to give her a call later.”
Judy let out a deep breath. “I was afraid I’d be forced to cancel some of my appointments here today, but somehow I managed to finish Mrs. Sweeney and her cousins all up, scoot them all on their way and still get here on time. I shoved the last two doughnuts down for my lunch.”
“The residents on the second floor who were scheduled for the treats today will be disappointed, but they’ll survive,” Penny quipped. “I’ll put a note out in the Gossip Garden for you, but I won’t mention why they have to wait for another time. It’s safer that way.”
Judy chuckled. “Is there ever a topic safe from residents’ gossip in the social room?”
“Not really, but they’re pretty preoccupied, now that plans are in full swing for next month’s Book Fair. Closing down the avenue to promote reading is as worthy a venture as you can get. Authors appear with their books, crafters sell book-related specialties, schoolchildren perform in little plays and food vendors sell everything that tastes good. It’s a win-win for everyone, but you’d think the Commissioners had approved the entire event again this year just to inconvenience the seniors.”
“I suppose a lot of them aren’t able to read much anymore.”
Penny pointed to the small stack of newspapers at the far end of the counter. “There are fifty-seven apartments here. Every day we get fifty-seven newspapers delivered, courtesy of the Commissioners. See? There are only half a dozen left, which is about par. I won’t even venture a guess at how many dozens and dozens of tabloids and magazines come into the