Accidental Happiness (33 page)

“We’re not having salad,” I told her. “I’m not sure we’ll even need one fork with hamburgers. Where did you learn all that stuff?”

“Mom worked for a caterer doing parties sometimes in the mountains where we lived. I’d go along to help.”

I thought of Reese, struggling with her condition, trying to make enough money for the two of them. It couldn’t have been easy. Ever. The miracle is that she didn’t call on Ben to help out sooner. But then, she’d gotten money from time to time. He never kept it from me, but it was never up for discussion either. She hadn’t asked for formal alimony and he felt like he’d owed her something. Looking back, anything formal would have brought Angel to light, so it made sense she’d want it the way it was.

“What about drinks?” Angel asked with enough force to make me realize it wasn’t the first time she’d said it. She stood looking into the fridge. “Do you want beer, or that other bourbon stuff you drink?”

Even Angel had noticed my fondness for alcohol. It didn’t surprise me, but it didn’t make me feel good either. “I’ll just have Diet Coke,” I told her. “Or Sundrop if your mom has it.”

After everything was set, I turned on the news, settled down to wait on the burgers.

“Dinner!” Derek called out, coming in the front door. Georgie followed at his heels. He cradled a white paper bag that smelled of griddle grease.

“Did you go to that diner in town?”

“You bet,” he said. “I treat my girls right. Don’t I, Angie?”

Angel just stood in front of him, grinning. I’d never seen her look more like a kid. I could just see her with Ben. Entirely smitten. Completely endearing. No wonder he’d loved her. Besides, she was his for the taking. She’d claimed him long before, beginning with Reese’s stories, I was sure.

We portioned out the burgers and fries on place settings worthy of baked sole, and in the middle of feeling that so many things had gone right for a change, an unnamed wrong nagged at me.
Stop looking for something bad, Gina.
Pushing through grief to the other side was hard enough, but then feeling guilty for having done it was nothing short of perverse, as if being consumed with sadness equaled love. Losing someone conjured this particular Catch-22, but I wouldn’t buy into it. I couldn’t. Ben would want me happy, I told myself. Ben would want all of us happy.

“What are you doing here?” Reese came in the front door. From her tone, I gathered that finding Derek and me on her couch was not a happy surprise.

“Where’s Lane?” she asked before either of us could answer.

Strands of loose, curly hair had escaped her ponytail, stuck to the dampness of her face. Low-country nights in September turned the outdoors into one large steambath.

“She had to go back to the dentist,” I said. “Her crown came off.”

“The one she just had worked on?” Reese walked by us, digging around in her purse. I hadn’t expected a brass band greeting, but a small
Thanks for pitching in at the last minute
would have been nice.

“Yeah, that one. Listen, Angel’s asleep already. She was exhausted for some reason. I picked her up at school today, and she had a lot of homework for a second-grade kid.”

“They pile it on,” she said, going into the kitchen to splash water on her face. She had a slightly manic quality about her and I wondered if something had gone wrong at work. I exchanged a glance with Derek and he raised his eyebrows, shrugged his shoulders. At least I wasn’t crazy, imagining that something was really off with her.

“I met her teacher,” I said when she came back into the room. “Young, but really nice. Do you feel like some kind of giant standing next to her, or what?” I laughed. She didn’t. “I mean, I did. Just because she’s so little. But she seems great. I looked at Angel’s ‘me-apron’ stuff.”

Reese didn’t speak. She looked pale and her hands shook as she held a dish towel she’d used to dry them.

“Are you okay?” I asked. Derek had moved close to her, ready to catch her if she passed out, I imagined. She didn’t look well. “Reese?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “You both should go home now. I’m here.”

I’d seen her become chilly to me over the last week or so. But this was dry ice compared to her other behavior.

“Reese, I don’t know what’s bothering you, but . . .”

Derek stood, mute. He wanted to get the hell out of Dodge, but he didn’t want to leave me to deal with Reese by myself, I was sure.

“What is it that you want?” Reese said. It sounded resigned, as if the flood walls had crumbled and there was nothing to do but brace for the flood. “Lately you’ve been coming in here all cupcakes and cream. That, after you could barely look at me on the porch that day. You were spitting venom. What are you after? Do you want to play happy family in my house with my kid? Is that it?” She looked at Derek. Obviously, he was supposed to offer some insight into my extreme manipulation.

“Why don’t you take the truck home?” I said. “Take Georgie with you, if you don’t mind. I’ve got my car. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Gina, I can wait outside if you just want to—”

“Go on home,” I said again. “I’ll meet you there.”

He left, although I wasn’t positive he would actually drive away. I wasn’t so sure I wanted him to. I could see Reese working herself up to some kind of collapse. I didn’t know enough about MS to know how it affected moods, but I didn’t want to cause her to have an attack of some sort.

After he’d gone, I sat down on the couch. But I stayed taut, ready to respond if Reese gave any signal of breaking down.

“We only came . . . I came first, then Derek brought burgers. Lane called, and rather than bother you at work she figured she would get me to fill in. That’s it. End of agenda. Honest.”

She sat in the chair opposite me, looked to be coming down from her indignant rush of adrenaline.

“Let’s talk this out, Reese. Something’s been bothering you for a while now. What is it?”

“Just what I said,” she answered, her fingers pulling lightly at her skirt. “I don’t trust the change in you. You’re practically phobic of children and now you can’t get enough of Angel. You did everything but spit on me at Lane’s, blaming me for Ben’s lies. Now you’re what? My best friend? Forgive me if I’m not sold. You have to have an agenda. I just don’t know what it is.”

“Reese, listen.” I stopped. I’d hoped she would confide in me, but it had gone too far. And she was right. I had changed completely since I found out about her. It was time to talk. “I know, Reese. I know all about your . . . your condition, whatever you call it. I know you have MS.”

If she looked white before, she looked ashen after I said that. I had somehow imagined she’d be relieved to hear me say it. Instead, she looked distraught.

“I understood a lot more after I found out,” I tried to explain. “I understood why you needed to use my credit card. Why you needed to get help. I’d like to get you some help. It’s what Ben would have done if he—”

“How did you find out so soon?”

“I went to my doctor, asked him about your meds . . .”

“No. About the Visa.”

“I saw the receipts at Lane’s house. I found them.” I didn’t elaborate. I didn’t have to.

“You went through my stuff?” She sounded so righteous. How the hell could she get on any moral high horse about this one? “And then you waited this long to tell me? What, has this all been some kind of mind game to you?”

“Jesus Christ, Reese! You took my goddamn credit card. Ordered pills in
my name
! Don’t even try to defend that, and don’t try to make me sound like the guilty one here. That’s fucking illegal, in case you hadn’t noticed. I just said I want to get you help. Did you even hear me?”

“Get out,” she said. Her voice was calm. Too calm.

“Reese, sit down. I want to talk about—”

“Get the fuck out of this house.” Her voice went low and threatening. “You can have Maxine throw me out if you want to, but for tonight this is where I live and I want you to leave.”

I wasn’t making any progress with her. I wouldn’t, not as long as she stayed in such a mood. I’d have Lane feel out the situation, then try to talk with her again tomorrow. I went to the kitchen to get my pocketbook, find my shoes. As I headed back toward the front door, I saw a crack in Angel’s door, her small body just standing there, a visible sliver of pink pajamas.

“Reese.” I kept my voice low, went close to her so the child wouldn’t hear me. She kept a stonelike demeanor as I spoke. “Angel’s at her door. She’s awake. You’ll need to talk with—”

“I know what I need to do for my daughter,” she said, cutting me off.

I glanced back toward Angel, offered a little wave to let her know things were okay. Then I went out to my car, couldn’t wait to escape to the real world. My new real world. A place where Derek would be waiting when I got back.

35

Reese

“N
o, no, no, no . . .” Angel kept saying it over and over, the word becoming a mantra. “I like it best here. Better than anyplace. I like Miss Reilly and our house. Please, Mommy. I don’t want to go anywhere. No, no . . .”

Angel had on the pajamas Lane had bought for her in Charleston. She looked smaller, younger than when she wore Reese’s old T-shirts for sleeping.

“I know, baby.” Reese hugged the child, tried to get Angel calmed enough to listen. Finally the girl sat down beside her; spasmlike hiccups punctuated the new silence.

“I thought we were going to stay longer too,” Reese told her. “I really did. That’s why I came here in the first place, to find you a home. But Gina . . . I did something that was wrong. Not for bad reasons, but it was wrong. And Gina could tell someone. I might get in a lot of trouble.”

“Gina won’t tell anybody.” Angel took on a no-nonsense tone. She let go of the pleading and began to reason with her mother. “I’ll ask her not to and she won’t. It’ll be okay. Let’s just stay a little while and see.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Angel. She’s told other people now too. Her doctor, and I don’t know how many others.” Reese put her flat palm on Angel’s cheek, smoothed back the tears. “I’m so sorry, Angel. I know you’re happy here.”

She’d toyed with the idea of leaving the child behind if it ever came to this. But that option didn’t seem open to her now. Plus, selfishly, a life without Angel would be too empty for her to live. She’d always known that. That’s why she’d run away from Ben that final time. She wished she could be a better person, a better mother. But she needed her daughter the way she needed air and food. And deep down, Angel needed her too. She had to believe that.

“It’ll be like a vacation,” she said. “You can catch up with school when we decide where to settle.”

School. She thought of Angel’s Miss Reilly, a woman she’d never met because Angel had asked her to stay away. But Gina had met her, liked her. Gina had seen Angel’s projects, her classroom. She couldn’t think too long on what this meant. An oversight, most likely. Gina hadn’t known to wait at the corner. Reese would make a point of meeting the teacher at Angel’s next school.

This part worried her the most. Where, with her increasing symptoms and decreasing ability to work, could she build a decent life for Angel in a good, safe neighborhood? This had been her best shot. Could Angel go back to living in dingy apartments and wearing thrift-store clothes?

“You’ll see,” Reese said, bending down to kiss Angel’s head. “It’ll be good.”

Angel nodded. But she didn’t move, just sat looking stunned and gutted. It broke Reese’s heart, but what choice did she have? She could stay. Take whatever came to her and let Angel have, what? A motherless life with a community of strangers. Albeit well-meaning strangers. It was a crapshoot. It always had been. But Angel was better off staying with her.

“Go pack all your stuff,” she told the girl. “We’re not leaving in such a rush this time. Pack everything you want.”

Angel stood up, her features deliberate and void of animation. “Okay,” she said. She went off to her room to gather things, and Reese watched her go. One good thing came out of this attempt at a life. She found a safety net, at least. She went to her room, looked deep in the drawer, and found the manila folder, took out the documents she’d kept, papers that would protect Angel if something did happen to her.

What had that lawyer in Boone told her? What was his name again? A regular customer at the restaurant. Nice guy. He’d helped her draw up the papers.

“If she has a relative,” he’d told her about Angel, “then she would go to her closest kin. If not, you’d need to appoint a legal guardian.”

“What if there isn’t anyone?” Reese asked, realizing there was only one answer.

“She’d go into custody of Child Services. They’d place her in a home.”

Reese remembered the panic she’d felt when she realized all that was riding on her health. Foster care would be better than any relatives they could track down of hers. Even the uncle who took her in was old and divorced by now. And that was years ago. He could be dead for all she knew. But strangers, she could never let Angel go to strangers. She’d make a plan. That’s when she got in touch with Ben.

That didn’t matter now. None of the plans mattered except the one that she’d ended up with. The only one that would work. It wasn’t perfect, and it was damned ironic, almost funny. But here it was. She’d get the papers notarized early tomorrow, then she and Angel would be on their way.

As she went to her room to pack up her belongings for yet another flight to another life, she wondered how many departures she and Angel would have to make before she finally got it right.