Accidental Happiness (15 page)

12

Gina

T
he Mercury Marquis in the parking lot of the marina was unmistakable. I pulled in and parked beside the large sedan. Maxine Melrose. I was glad that Angel had stayed another night with Lane. The last thing that I wanted was to have to introduce Angel to Benjamin’s mother. I especially didn’t want to explain about the girl’s obvious injuries. If Maxine had heard about the accident, she would have called immediately. With any luck, the shooting hadn’t gone beyond the local news. The Columbia papers wouldn’t have picked up such a minor story.

As I got through the security gate, it occurred to me that, while Maxine had come looking for me, she’d likely found someone else entirely when she got to my boat. A surprise wake-up call for Reese, no doubt.

The marina Internet was down, so I’d gotten up early to turn in my article at the paper, then stopped by for groceries, or what passed for a full load of groceries in my doll-sized kitchen. I’d left Reese asleep in the quarter berth. She’d come in late. I’d been in my cabin, still working on the assignment, when I felt the familiar shift as she boarded the boat. By the time I opened my door to at least say hello, she had closed herself off in her room. Just as well. I didn’t want to risk the possibility of opening up a discussion with her—not when I had a deadline looming the next day.

Judging from her late slumber the morning before, I figured I’d wake her up when I got home. Looked like I figured wrong.

“I wonder what’s up with you, Maxine,” I mumbled as I shifted the groceries to my other arm. Regardless of the complications, the thought of seeing my mother-in-law lifted my mood. We’d taken to each other the first time we met, and she’d come to feel more like a mother to me than my biological version. Between her and Lane, I had an abundance of maternal care.

Maxine’s arrival didn’t surprise me. Following her weeklong stay after the funeral, she had taken to just showing up on occasion. Always unexpected. Always nearing a breakdown. I worried that she was like that constantly. Then told myself that perhaps when insanity began to set in, she jumped in her car and headed for the coast to find me. At least I hoped so. I’d certainly ended up on her doorstep before.

“Nothing good can come of this, Reese.” Maxine’s voice coming from the cabin of my boat sounded unyielding, as if rendered by a superior. It reminded me of my tone with Angel.

“Come on, Maxie,” Reese said, employing a nickname I’d never heard before. “You’ve got to admit there’s something real tidy about it. Two wives, one boat.”

At least there was nothing to suggest they’d come to blows.

I stood on the dock for a minute. Not so much to eavesdrop as to prepare myself for entering the fray.

“I have to say,” Maxine countered, “that the years have not improved you, Reese. You’re as childish as the day I last saw you.”

Benjamin had told me that the two of them never got along, even before Reese did her disappearing act.
Acts.
I corrected myself, adjusting for Reese’s recent revelations. I had figured as much when I first met Maxine. After fifteen minutes of conversation on my first visit to her house, she’d leaned back against her kitchen sink and smiled. “Thank God, you’re normal!” she said.

I felt like the
good child.
The one relied upon to make the family proud.

“If that’s a compliment,” I’d told her, “you’re going to have to take another shot at it.”

“Honey,” she countered, wiping down the counter as she spoke, “after that last one, normal is the highest praise I can offer. She was a flat-out nut.”

Maxine loved me from the very beginning. After Benjamin was gone, she almost loved me to death. During her stay at the house, the idea was that sharing our grief would lighten the load for both of us. We barely made it a week before we both agreed that distance had its merits.

“Just tell me why you called me and I’ll go back home,” Maxine said. “Gina’s a big girl and she can have any guests she pleases. Including you.”

Reese called her?
Why the hell would she do that?

“Hey, Maxine.” I tried to sound casual as I stepped onto the boat.

“Gina!” Maxine turned to me. “It’s wonderful to see your face, sweetheart.”

Reese rolled her eyes. Something was different about her, but my focus shifted quickly back to Maxine.

A good four inches shorter than I was, Maxine had to reach up like a child to give me a hug. She looked younger than the last time I’d seen her. Slimmer too. She’d maintained her original hair color of deep reddish brown, but the cut was shorter, more contemporary. Either she’d pulled her life back together or found a top-notch plastic surgeon. Either way, I was delighted to see her looking so much better.

“Do you want something to drink?” I asked. I’d had larger gatherings on my boat before, but the cabin suddenly seemed as crowded as it had ever been.

“No, thank you, sweetie,” she said, turning back to Reese. “I’d just like to find out what this one has to say, so I can go on back.”

I looked at Reese. She mouthed Angel’s name to me, tilted her head in the direction of Lane’s cottage.

“What’s wrong with you?” Maxine caught my awkward communication with Reese.

“Nothing,” I said. “I’m sorry I interrupted.”

“No interruption, sweetheart,” Maxine said. “You’ve liberated me. I have to head back.”

“Maxine. Wait.” Reese’s voice had lost its taunting quality. “I’ll be right back. Don’t leave.” Her sincere plea stopped Maxine’s progress toward the door.

Angel. She wanted to spring Angel on Maxine. I couldn’t imagine why. Maybe I’d misjudged Reese all around. Maybe she was out to get cash or simply throw the child in Maxine’s face. I wanted to intervene, to warn my mother-in-law. But I looked at Reese and, somehow, I couldn’t rely on those theories. There was something else, something she had in mind.

“Wait here just a minute,” Reese told us. She left the cabin, headed over toward Lane’s on the other side of the Ship’s Store.

Maxine shook her head. “That woman! What’s she doing here?”

“It’s a really long story,” I said.

The air felt lighter without the tension between the two women.

“You look wonderful,” I told her. She did. She looked . . . new.

“I’ve tried so hard,” she said. “This damn thing has almost killed me, but I’m determined to get through it intact. “How ’bout you, honey? I called to check on you a day or two ago, but I just got your voice mail.”

I felt bad that I hadn’t called her back.

“I’m fine,” I said. “It’s been a weird few days, but everything’s okay now.”

She didn’t ask me to explain. I guess she figured
weird
days were the norm when your husband’s ex-wife arrives for a visit.

“Gina?” she began, but didn’t go on.

“What?” I asked.

She looked sly, more like her old self than I’d seen in months, even before the accident.

“I’m seeing someone,” she said. “A CPA in town. His wife died two years ago and . . .” She stopped for a second as if she’d run out of words. “We just found each other, Gina. He’s a wonderful man.” She smiled, looked happy.

“That’s great, Maxine!” I reached over and gave her a hug.

Even Benjamin’s mother was doing better than I was. The rogue thought surfaced in the middle of my genuine pleasure for Maxine, and I was mad at myself for giving it clear passage in my brain. Something subliminal should squash anything that selfish. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder how everyone could deal with Benjamin’s death except me.

“I’m really glad,” I managed. And I was. She’d been through a lot in her life; at the very least she deserved to be loved.

She and Benjamin’s dad had divorced when Ben was fifteen. I’d seen Henry, his dad, a half-dozen times in our three years of marriage, the last time at the funeral. He came with his second wife, Alicia. Seeing the two of them together made the day even harder for Maxine. She’d dated off and on over the years, but never anything exciting. The spark I saw as we waited for Reese to come back brought out colors I’d never seen in her.

“He’s a rascal, Gina,” she told me. “But in a really good way. We have so much fun. We’ve been going out about a month.”

“A month? We’ve talked three or four times in the last few weeks.”

“I know,” she said. “But I didn’t want to say anything until . . . until I knew it was going to stick.”

“I’m happy for you, Maxine.”

She sat down, crossed her legs, and let out a long breath, and I settled down opposite her. I could see one corner of Lane’s house through the portside window. I wrestled with whether to warn her. To say something—anything.

“How are you holding up?” she asked. “You don’t look so good.”

“Stop with the compliments,” I said, smiling.

“You know what I mean. Is it just everything, or has
she
done something?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I was working on deadline late last night. I’m a little tired, that’s all.” I wanted to avoid thinking about Benjamin, all my confusion over Angel. I certainly didn’t want to let on about anything to Maxine.

“Well, that woman gets under my skin.” Maxine didn’t push with the questions.

“I know,” I said. “But try to go with it. Really try, Maxine. I’m telling you the honest truth. She’s not always as bad as you think. But it’s going to get worse here in a minute, and you’ve got to keep it together.”

“What’s going on?” she asked.

I didn’t have to answer. I felt the shift of weight as Reese and Angel stepped onto the boat. I heard the child’s shoes hit the deck with a heavy slap, winced as she jumped from the seat to the floor. In spite of the fact that I had no personal stake in any of it, I wanted it to go well. I felt nervous, surprised that I even cared.

Maxine sat up straight when she heard the steps on the boat, as if she needed to stay sharp, at the ready. When Reese stepped through the companionway, I sensed that her demeanor had changed. Even her face looked different.

Angel was obscured, followed in her mother’s wake; Reese’s hand stayed behind her back, holding the child’s good arm, offering a gentle pull.

“Come on, honey,” she said to Angel.

A panicky feeling rose in my chest and I changed seats, sat beside Maxine, though the gesture was instinctive and of little practical value. Angel wasn’t going to attack anybody. If anything, Reese had the most to lose. She was putting it all on the line, and for reasons that I couldn’t imagine.

“Maxine, this is Angelina,” Reese said. “Angel.”

Then, she was there. Angel stood at the bottom of the stairs inside the cabin. Her hair was combed, held back with a barrette, not something I’d seen in my few days with the little girl. Her face held a pink flush as if it had been wiped clean with a warm cloth. It smacked of Lane’s involvement, but taking a serious look at Reese, I had to wonder. For the first time since our unfortunate introduction, she wore conventional clothes, slim navy pants and a white blouse that I realized she’d rummaged from my limited closet. That’s what was different about her.

She could have been a senator’s wife, dressed for a luncheon. Part of me wanted to explain to Maxine how hard she was trying; the moment hung there forever before Maxine responded.

“Hello, Angel,” she said. “I’m Mrs. Melrose.” It was a cold, formal response, unlike the woman who had cried with me, even thrown things across a room, in the days that followed Benjamin’s funeral. Either she didn’t understand what the moment held, or she knew, and rejected it anyway. I couldn’t tell.

“What happened to her arm?” Maxine directed the question at Reese. A simple question, but the tone suggested that Angel was little more than a broken vase or, at best, an injured pet. I waited, prepared to explain why I had a gun and why the hell I’d fired it anywhere near a child.

“She had an accident.” Reese was retreating, offering no more than she was given. “But she’s going to be fine.”

Angel’s expression didn’t change. Unlike most kids, eager to pop in with their own inflated versions of any event, she accepted her mother’s answer. I got the feeling she’d learned early on to go with the flow of Reese’s narratives.

“That’s good,” Maxine said. She looked over at me. The flat line of her emotions centered in her eyes.

Reese kept a hand on Angel at all times, touching her hair, rubbing her back. A lost connection, it seemed, could lead Angel into harm’s way.

I wanted to shake Maxine, bring her fully awake. Even if she wanted to dismiss Reese, how could she act as if the girl was some object? Then again, I hadn’t exactly been kind to her over the last couple of days. I thought of Angel at the grave, crying over Ben, smiling at her unexpected success with the puzzle. Then I’d turned on her, gone stone cold. Lane was right; whatever mistakes the adults in her life made, the kid wasn’t to blame. It occurred to me that maybe that was why I’d gotten a pass when my sister died.
I
had been a kid, only a couple of years older than Angel. I wanted to comfort her, suddenly, but one look told me she’d put up her own protective barriers. She was used to it—taking the heat by association for Reese. The girl’s eyes stayed level on Maxine, refusing to look away.