Accidental Happiness (38 page)

“No.” I answered her question. “I’ve made some progress. But I’m not sure coming to grips with it is in the cards entirely. I just have to accept the parts of it that helped me carve out, for better or worse, who I am, and then move forward, I guess.”

“Is there a textbook where you go to get that crap?” Reese shook her head. “You sound just like the assholes who work in this place.”

I laughed. Sane or not, Reese would stay herself. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

Someone knocked on the door. After Reese called for them to come in, I saw Angel look carefully around the door. She stepped into the room, followed by a guy, a nurse, I gathered. She and Reese just stared at each other. I envied the look on Reese’s face, the unmistakable expression of a mother who’d just seen her child.

43

Reese

“I
’ll let you two visit,” Gina said.

Angel had just walked in the room. She stood near the door, far away, and Reese made no move to cross the room to her.

Gina kissed the girl on the head, whispered something to her. Angel nodded, then Gina left.

Reese felt shy around Angel for the first time in memory. How was she supposed to act now that she knew about all the make-believe she’d inflicted on her daughter? How could she change their relationship entirely when she still felt, even heard sometimes, so many of the things her rational self now knew were false?

“Hey,” Reese said. Better to start small.

“Hey,” Angel said, not crossing the room.

“I heard you’re keeping my room at the cottage nice for me?”

The child nodded. Reese wanted to run over and hug her. She wanted to tell her she was sorry. But that would be too much. She had to stay calm.

“Listen, Angel,” she began. “I want to talk with you. Can you come sit beside me? Let’s sit on the bed.”

Angel walked over to the bed, climbed on. Reese sat down, facing her daughter.

“I didn’t know,” Reese began.

Angel looked at her. Someone had pulled the girl’s hair back into a ponytail. She looked more like a kid with it that way.

“I didn’t know that all the stuff I said to you wasn’t real.”

“Gina told me,” Angel said, looked like she wanted to say something else, but stopped.

“Go ahead, baby,” Reese said. “I don’t mind you asking anything you want to know.”

“I just don’t know,” Angel said. “How you can hear something or feel something when it’s not really there?”

Reese reached over, tied Angel’s shoelace because it had come undone. “I don’t know that either,” she said. “I wish I understood too. But what I can do now that I couldn’t before is listen to people who tell me what’s real and what’s not. The medicine helps me to do that. Gina will help both of us. And we’ll stay here. No more running from place to place.”

“Lane and Derek too?”

“Yeah,” Reese said. “Lane and Derek too.”

“Gina says I’ll like Maxine a lot when I get to know her.”

Reese shook her head. “And they say I’m the one who’s delusional.”

Angel’s eyes were wide with questions, but Reese just moved over, took her daughter into a big full-arm hug. Then she turned on the small television in the corner of the room, found a station of afternoon cartoons.

“Come here,” she said to Angel.

They sat side by side on the bed, their legs stretched out in front of them. After a while Angel crawled over into her mother’s lap, and Reese realized that no matter where she was, Angel would always be her home.

Angel and Gina had been gone for about an hour when Reese heard another knock at the door. Andrew Hanes popped his head in. “Decent?” he asked.

“Are you kidding?” Reese smiled.

Reese suggested that they walk outside. The sun had gotten low, and the colors made the sky look like batik fabric.

They walked around the property, chatted the way they always had, easy and without trying. She felt more normal with Andrew Hanes than she ever had with anyone. Even in the middle of her delusions, her sanest self had prevailed with him.

“I brought you something,” he said. “Against my better judgment. I figured you needed to deal with one thing at a time.”

He pulled out a pack of menthols, matches stuck in the cellophane.

“God bless you, Preacher Andy.” She grinned. “I only had a few stashed with my stuff when I got here, and I’ve been bumming ever since.” She looked at the pack. “They’re open.”

“There’re two gone.” He smiled, looked at the ground. “Old cravings from my Marine days die hard. Although I’d never have been caught smoking that sissy menthol crap back then.”

“So you’d sneak ’em while your wife wasn’t looking,” she said, sitting on an Adirondack chair. She held out the pack, offering him one. He shook his head no, sat opposite her, looked out across the lawn.

“She left.” A statement, without emotion or elaboration.

“Come on,” Reese said. “I’m not joking around.”

“Neither am I.” He turned to Reese, and she saw the sadness in his eyes that couldn’t be found anywhere else in his demeanor.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Damn, I’m really sorry.” She lit a menthol, inhaled deep, and felt her nerves loosen in an instant. Then she exhaled, watched the breeze take the smoke out over the grass. “Was it because of me?”

He squinted. The low sun came straight on across from them.

“Yes and no,” he said. “She thought I’d run off with you.”

“What!”

“She found out as soon as I got home that I didn’t. But the problem for both of us was, she really thought it. The idea that she believed it, even for a couple of hours . . .” He stopped, took in deep pulls of air. “She said she couldn’t live that way. Not trusting. She knows nothing happened with us, but . . .”

Chelsea, one of the student volunteers, came over and brought packets of caramels that some pharmaceutical rep had left for the patients. Andrew took one, thanked her, then looked back at Reese and shrugged his shoulders as if to say,
What can you do?

“I’m laying waste all around, huh?” Reese wished she could feel a little worse about it than she did. She couldn’t help but think that a sane person would feel like shit. But the woman had been a real bitch, best she could tell. “Are you okay?”

“Getting there,” he said. He opened the bag, offered her a caramel.

“Me too,” she told him, taking a piece of candy from the bag. “Me too.”

44

Gina

A
ngel and I didn’t say much on the drive back to the cottage. “It’s good for your mom to see you,” I told her. “Did it feel okay, visiting with her?”

“Not at first,” she said, “but then it did by the end.”

“This was the hardest one, I bet. After this, you’ll feel more at ease going there, until she feels like coming home.”

She didn’t offer any more thoughts, so I kept my attention on the road, occasionally glanced out the window at the old men who dotted the banks of the tidal creeks. Autumn fishing had moved into high season. With cane poles angled over the water, they watched us as we crossed over the foot-high bridges where the road cut across salt marsh.

“Here’s my cell.” I handed Angel my phone. “Do you know Clara’s number?”

She smiled over at me, then concentrated on pushing the right numbers. By the time we reached home, we figured we had half an hour, tops, to get the place ready for Angel’s sleepover.

“What should we do when Clara gets here?” Angel asked as we put clean sheets on the extra twin bed in her room.

“Well, let’s think. What do you usually do at a sleepover?”

“I don’t know,” she said, not looking up from her work. “I never had one before.”

I stopped, watched her secure a corner at the top of the bed. She didn’t know how to complain, had never learned that kids her age griped and moaned all the time.

“You told her to bring her Barbie stuff, right?”

She nodded.

“That’s probably good for an hour or so. Derek’s going to make a cookout. He’s got tofu burgers for Clara,” I added. “And after dinner, if the mosquitoes aren’t too bad, he can fish with the two of you off the dock.”

We’d moved
River Rose
to the cottage dock. Derek was staying on her since he’d quit his job at the marina.
Low Country Leisure
had hired him right away. I could see the light on sometimes in the main cabin of the boat where, late at night, he worked on stories. I wanted to join him there, but until Reese was better, I would stay in the cottage with Angel. I’d learned to allow for life’s fluid nature. Things changed every minute, but the current only headed one direction at a time. You had to make your best guess and then just ride it out.

“What do I do if we get stuck and can’t figure out what to do?” Angel remained worried. She wanted her first slumber party to go well.

“Give me a signal,” I said. “And I’ll come suggest we make cookies or something. I can always get things moving again. What’s our signal?”

Angel balled her fist, then tapped it onto her outstretched palm. An honest-to-God
signal.
I could work with that. I did it back to her. “Like that?” She nodded. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll watch for it.”

After we’d gotten the room ready, Clara’s mom called to say they were running a few minutes late. I decided that it was as good a time as any to do something I’d been thinking about for a few days.

“Come in my room, Angel,” I said. “I’ve got something for you.”

“What?” She smiled.

“It’s a present. Kind of a late birthday present. Come on.”

I had her sit on the bed while I got the jewelry box out of my drawer. Several days before, I’d found it in my pocket, left in there from that day at the storage facility. I’d been so upset that I hadn’t even realized I’d taken it. It seemed different to me after all we’d been through, more comforting than painful.

“This is something I found,” I said, sitting down beside her. “Ben bought it.” I held out the box to her and she took it. “He bought it for you.”

She sat with her hand in her lap, didn’t try to open the box. “How do you know?” She looked up at me, her dark eyes serious. She looked afraid to believe.

“Open it and I’ll tell you,” I said.

She opened the box; the hinge creaked again, the way it had the last time I’d seen it. She stared at it for the longest time, and I could see the excitement as it began to fill her face. “Why is it for me?” She looked up at me again, this time smiling.

“What does it say inside the lid there?” I asked. “Can you read that?”

She looked. “Pe . . . peri . . .”

“Peridot,” I told her.

“Peridot. August.” At the last part she broke into a real grin.

“It’s your birthstone,” I said. “He got it for you after your last visit, I think, because it was in his office drawer at work. He never had a chance to give it to you.”

I took it out of the box for her, and she turned her back to me, raised her hair, and made her neck long so I could clasp it on. Then she got up and went to the mirror over the bureau and stared at herself. She stood there looking until the doorbell rang, and even then, as excited as she was about her friend, she had trouble pulling herself away.

Later, as the two girls played in the den, Derek and I stayed in the kitchen slicing up tomatoes and lettuce, getting out plates for the cookout. I heard Clara stop in the middle of a pretend moment and tell Angel, “That’s a pretty necklace.”

Angel paused, then simply said, “My daddy bought it for me.” Then they went on with their play.

While Derek worked on the charcoal, Lane arrived, bringing with her a mixed-berry pie and a surprise guest. Maxine got out on the passenger side of Lane’s car. I saw her look at the cottage, questioning, no doubt, why she’d ever agreed. But, not one to go back on a decision, she followed Lane to the door.

“I called her yesterday,” Lane said as they came inside, “badgered her until she agreed to come. She’s staying at my house tonight, so we can make a good evening of it here.”

“Well, Angel’s got a friend over for a sleepover. Maxine, they found your stash of board games in the drawer, so they’re having a game-a-thon in Angel’s room.”

“I forgot those old things were here,” Maxine said, carrying a jug of sweet tea into the kitchen.

Lane went outside to help Derek, and I joined Maxine. I’d talked to her after the trip to Myrtle Beach, filled her in on all the news about Reese. I’d kept my distance since that time, wanted to give her the space she needed to work it out for herself.

“Have you been okay?” I asked. We sat down at the table. She ran her hand through her short hair.

“It’s hard to undo a couple of decades of ill will,” she said. “But it’s wrong to hold something against a woman whose demons run that deep.”

“I don’t think she expects you to change your mind about her. But I hope you can try to get to know Angel. None of it is her fault. She’s lived a life no kid should have to live—covering for her mother, keeping up with the stories, then constantly wondering how long they would be in any given place. It had to be exhausting.”

Maxine didn’t comment. Maybe she didn’t know how to respond.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked. I thought about the necklace, realized that I’d have to tell Maxine everything—sooner rather than later.

“I was thinking about Ben,” she said, half reading my mind. “I was thinking that he probably knew more than I ever realized about Reese and her problems. He had to have some idea that things didn’t add up.”

“I think he’d started to figure it out,” I told her. “There were other things he knew about too, Maxine.”

She looked over, kept her gaze steady, waiting for me to tell her.

“He’d spent time with Angel.” Her expression didn’t change, but I saw the flush rising in her cheeks. I gave her a second or two, then I continued. I told her everything. All that I knew about Ben’s visits with Angel—his plans and his appeals to me. I told her about Elise and all my problems. And I told her about the necklace.

“I gave it to her,” I said. “Earlier today. She’s wearing it.”

When I finished, she leaned on her elbows on the table, rested her head in her hands. “He knew her,” she said, more to herself than to me. I could see the tears on her face, but I tried not to start. I’d had enough of tears. Enough for this lifetime and the next.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “I’m still breathing.”

“Well, there’s more,” I said. “Let’s get it all over with at once, huh?” She took a deep breath, stood up, and followed me. “There’s something I’ve made a decision on,” I said, “but you deserve to make up your mind for yourself.”

I took her in my room, just as I’d led Angel in earlier that afternoon. It seemed to be a day for resolution. I’d taken the two envelopes to the bank, set up a series of accounts and investments that would allow for all of us to live, and Reese to get treatment, until the end of time, if that’s what it took. But there was another envelope left.

“I had this done weeks ago,” I began. “Right after I found out that Ben had spent time with Angel. I felt angry, and I wanted to go tearing up everybody else’s world too.”

I handed her the envelope. She looked at the address.

“They do genetic testing,” I explained. “DNA. I had some of Angel’s hair, and Ben’s—just a few strands from one of his jackets.”

Her tears had never completely stopped, but now began again in earnest, dripping onto the envelope in her hand.

“It’s not opened,” she said. “Do you know?”

I shook my head. The decision had been an easy one. The only one, really, that seemed like an option for me. But I couldn’t, wouldn’t, try to make the call for Maxine.

“Reese doesn’t know,” I said. “Of all her stories, that’s one I believe. And Angel certainly believes that Ben was her dad. Maxine, Ben didn’t even want to know. He accepted her, wanted her from the minute he knew she existed. Reese didn’t lie to him, and he never asked her to find out for sure. So, I’ve decided that it would make no difference to me. I’m better off never looking at that piece of paper.”

“But what if she doesn’t belong to him?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Define ‘belong.’ You’re more of a mother to me than I’ve ever had before and we don’t share an ounce of blood. But I’d do anything for you and you know it. She’s a kid, Maxine. She belongs to whomever she loves. At least, that’s the way I’m choosing to see it. I won’t blame you if you have to know. If that’s the case, I want you to take that home with you, and please never talk to me about it.”

I could hear Derek rummaging in the kitchen. He’d be ready to put everything on the grill soon.

“I’m going to help Derek get the burgers on,” I said. “Stay in here as long as you like. I know it’s a lot to sort out.”

I checked on the girls, asked them to help Lane get the condiments and drinks all ready. Then I got a couple of cold beers out of the fridge and took them outside where Derek was working.

“For the cook,” I said, handing him a bottle. He took it, smiled, and kissed me.

A few minutes later, as I sat on top of the picnic table, doing little more than keeping him company, I saw Maxine coming out of the house. She paused for a second, glanced over my way, and then continued on down to the dock.

I watched her step onto my boat, Ben’s boat. She moved forward, sat on the bow, and, as the breeze rattled the halyards against the steel mast, I watched her tear the envelope into little bits. She worked deliberately, without hurry. She tore until the envelope was gone, holding all of the paper full in her lap. Then she scooped up the entire pile, scattered the white pieces like ashes into the water below. The current moved quickly with the waning tide, and soon they were gone.

“Can I call my mom and tell her about my necklace?” Angel had come up beside me when I was looking the other way. Derek had gone inside and I was alone, watching the burgers for him. “Sure, honey, she’d like to hear about it. Where’s Clara?”

“She got tired of playing, so she’s watching
Stuart Little.
She asked me why I call you Gina. She thought you were my mom.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her that you were married to my daddy. Is that all right?”

“That’s perfect, sweetie.”

She turned to go back in and call her mother, but after a few steps she turned. “Clara says that makes you my stepmom.” She stood looking at me.

“Clara’s right,” I said. “I guess that’s what I am.”

“Good.” She stood there smiling.

“Would you do me a favor?” I asked. “Before you call your mom?”

She nodded.

“Maxine is walking back up from the dock. Would you show her your necklace?” She nodded, met Ben’s mother halfway across the yard.

I saw her hold the necklace away from her neck for Maxine’s inspection. Maxine didn’t say anything for a second. I started to think I’d made a mistake. But finally she managed a smile, told Angel how pretty it was. “Ben was good with jewelry. Picking it out, I mean.” It seemed she had no idea what to say to Angel. It would take some time for the two of them.

As they walked back toward us, I heard Angel asking about Ben when he was growing up.

“Gina?” Maxine called out. “Did I see that box still sitting in your backseat?”

Box? I tried to think. “The pictures?”

“That’s right. Are they there?” She and Angel came up beside me at the picnic table.

“Of course,” I said. “Nothing ever leaves my car once it’s been piled in. You know that.”

“Later we’ll get them,” she said to Angel. It came out as a frail, tentative suggestion. “Sometime after dinner, I’ll show you pictures of your daddy when he was your age.”