“He planned it very thoroughly,” Emmie said, flopping down on the couch. “He let me talk and plan for a baby, he arranged the cruise, said it would be like a second honeymoon and then wham bam, he dumps me on the gangplank when the ship docked. He said he doesn't want anything. The house is mine, our joint bank account, everything. He just wanted out.”
“I'm so sorry, Emmie. I wish there was something I could do for you. I need to ask, why did you wait so long to go to the farm and tell your mother?”
“I was too ashamed, Willow. Do you know what I did? Right there on the gangplank with people watching us, I begged him, I held on to his arm and tried to hang on to him. He shook me off like he would shake off a stray dog. And if that wasn't bad enough, I told him I would stop talking and go back to signing if he'd stay. He laughed in my face. I was too ashamed to tell that to my mother. I just holed up here and cried all week. I didn't think about Mom, the farm, or the horses. All I thought about was Buddy. I turned on the computer and watched it until I thought my eyeballs would explode out of my head. I was so sure he would e-mail me and tell me . . . something . . . anything. Like maybe he was temporarily insane. Today, I finally realized it wasn't going to happen. How could I have been so stupid? How, Willow?”
“You loved him. Love doesn't come with an intelligence quotient.”
“I feel terrible that you and Nick came home to such a mess. You just got married, and already there are problems. My brother is a great guy, but then I guess you already knew that or you wouldn't have married him. Mom won't bend. Things are either black or white with her. There are no gray areas anywhere in her life.”
“I can't believe that, Emmie. Mothers are very forgiving. They love their children unconditionally. I'm sure you and Nick will be able to work things out with her once she calms down.”
Emmie laughed, a bitter sound to Willow's ears. “Maybe other mothers are like that, but ours isn't. We learned early on, almost as soon as we could walk, that the horses always came first. We were raised that way. I'm not saying it's wrong, it's the way it is, and we knew that, accepted it. Mom is very loving, very generous and kind with us. As soon as we hit our teens she told us we could take care of ourselves. She stopped that motherly hovering thing all mothers do. I don't know how Nick is going to handle this. All he knows are the horses, and yet I can't see him signing on with another farm. I'm glad he has you, Willow. I'm glad you're both here. I'm a terrible hostess. Would you like some coffee? Yes, coffee's good. I'll make some. Why don't you go upstairs and freshen up. I'll call you when the coffee is ready.”
“That sounds like a splendid idea. Emmie?”
“Yes.”
“Would you really have stopped talking if Buddy agreed to stay with you?”
“I guess I meant it when I said it. I know that doesn't say much for me, now does it? He dumped me because I'm normal now. He hated it when people talked to me and I responded. He wanted me to keep signing. I got so used to talking I would forget to sign. Then he would grab my arm and swing me around and make me sign. I guess that should have been my first clue. I don't know what to do without him. All I do is walk around in circles.”
“This is a pretty kitchen,” Willow said, changing the subject.
“Mom helped me decorate it. The breakfast nook gets the full morning sun. I like to curl up in the wing chair in my pajamas on Sunday morning and read the paper and drink a whole pot of coffee. Nick and I used to alternate Sundays. I always looked forward to that time. It was special. I guess I can do that every day now for the rest of my life. Do you want to hear something strange, Willow? When my stepfather, Nick's dad, died, Mom never once cried. He was dead, and she didn't cry. Buddy leaves me, and I fall apart and can't stop crying. Can you explain that to me?”
“No, Emmie, I can't. Each of us grieves in our own way.” She gave Emmie a hug. “I'm going to go upstairs and freshen up. I'll be down soon. Are you sure you're okay?”
Emmie nodded as she measured coffee into the silver basket.
Satisfied that the coffee was perking, Emmie curled up in the wing chair in the breakfast nook. Maybe she should have told Willow and Nick the rest of her sorry tale. To what end? Some things were just better left alone. She looked out the window to watch her two favorite squirrels, Lizzie and Dizzy, scamper across the deck railing to the huge bowl of pecans she kept on the picnic table on the deck. She'd tamed them to a degree. Oftentimes when she sat out on the deck with a book they'd come right up to her chair and beg for the nuts. They always scampered away and watched from a distance when Buddy would join her. She wondered why that was. Did they sense something in him that wasn't right? Were squirrels like dogs, good judges of character? Did it matter? Right now, nothing mattered, not the loss of Buddy or her mother's ugly decision to banish her.
Lizzie and Dizzy scurried across the railing, hopped onto the back of one of the deck chairs, and then onto the windowsill outside the breakfast nook. Their eyes shiny bright, their bushy tails swinging from side to side, they watched the sleeping girl who fed them every day and changed their daily water bowl on the steps of the deck. They chattered to one another as their little paws tapped on the glass for recognition. When none was forthcoming, they scampered away.
Upstairs, Nick perched on the edge of the bed, his head between his hands. He wanted to bawl, to kick and scream the way he'd done when he was a little boy. “Always be responsible for your own actions.” Words his father had taught him early on. Words he'd always heeded. Until now. How could he make this all come out right? He couldn't.
His mother had looked so tired, so weary. Ruby, too. Ruby had undergone chemotherapy and radiation treatments for a whole year. On the road to recovery, she still had to take her meds, still had to get plenty of rest, and he'd failed her, too. He should have called. Why hadn't he? Because he didn't want to hear a lecture, didn't want to hear his mother say he was too young to marry someone he barely knew. He knew what he felt, knew what Willow felt, and that was enough for him. If only Misty Blue hadn't foaled early. If only Buddy hadn't left Emmie. If only, if only, if only. One week, one miserable goddamn week, and his whole life changed in a matter of minutes. Did it matter that he'd never, ever, taken a vacation? Did it matter that up until now he'd given his life to Blue Diamond Farms and the horses? What mattered was the week he'd taken for himself to get married. No matter what, he should have called. Somewhere far back in his mind he'd had the thought that when he and Willow returned there would be a second marriage like both his mother and Maud had, with a reception for the farm workers. A tradition of sorts.
From the time he'd been able to understand, he'd heard stories about how wonderful Maud and Jess were, how they'd been together all their lives and only married when they were older because Maud wanted the piece of paper that said she belonged to someone. His mother had said theirs was a real lifelong love affair.
As a youngster, he'd thought his parents were happy. But only at the end of the day when all the farm work was done. They'd had so little time to spend with one another and with their children. Maybe the marriage hadn't been so wonderful after all. Maybe he was wearing rose-colored glasses. Maybe he didn't want a marriage like theirs after all. Maybe that was why he'd done things the way he had. Maybe a lot of things.
One stinking, lousy phone call, and he wouldn't be sitting here ready to bawl his head off.
Bottom line . . . he should have called.
“We'll work this out, Nick,” Willow said, sitting down next to him on the bed. “I'm going to send the check back. Maybe I should take it back and try to talk to your mother. She used to like me. Maybe we can talk, woman to woman. It's worth a try, Nick. I hate seeing you so miserable.”
“I'm not just miserable. I'm fucking miserable, and it's my own fault. I'm in shock. I knew I should have called. Some small part of me wanted to, but the larger part of me said no, she'll demand I come home. Our trip was special in so many ways, my first-ever vacation, making love to you, getting married. I wanted to keep it close for as long as I could. I didn't want to share it with anyone but you. This is the result.”
“You aren't selfish, honey. And you can't take all the blame. I should have insisted you call your mother. I know your mom. I should have known how she'd react.” She cradled him against her. “First thing tomorrow, I'll take the check back and then drive into town and look for a job. There's that new hotel. They were advertising for a chef. We won't starve, Nick.”
Nick flopped backward onto the bed and laughed bitterly. “Money is the least of my problems, Willow. I'm fixed financially for the rest of my life. Emmie is, too. Hell, between us we could buy and operate our own farm. Maybe that's what we'll do if Emmie is agreeable. I want your promise that you won't go to my mother. If you want to send the check back, that's okay, and it is your decision. Just so you know, my mother never backs down. Never.”
“She's not like that, Nick. I used to talk to her for hours in the kitchen. It's like we're talking about two different people here. The woman I know is nothing like what you're describing.”
“Don't delude yourself. I'm her son. I should know. Everyone wears two faces. There's the family side where it all hangs loose and you know someone inside and out, and then there is the public side, where that person lets you see only what they want you to see. You do it, I do it, everyone does it. Sometimes we do it consciously and sometimes we do it unconsciously. How is Emmie?”
“She's hurting, Nick. How do you expect her to feel? She said she didn't see it coming. What kind of man would do something like that? And in public.” She told him about Emmie's confession.
“Jesus. I'm just spoiling for a fight. I should get on the next plane to Ohio and beat the crap out of that sorry son of a bitch. I don't care if he is deaf. I don't understand why he would go back to Ohio anyway. His parents did come from there, but as far as I know he only has an uncle left, and he must be pretty old by now. By the way, that uncle couldn't wait to unload Buddy when his parents were killed. He allowed my mother to take him in and Mom raised him. I really should go there and beat the living crap out of him.”
“That's not what you're going to do, Nick. This is Emmie's problem and we aren't going to do anything unless she asks us to intervene, which she isn't going to do. Right now we are going to go downstairs and have some coffee and talk about our future. We have to start making plans.”
“I don't know if I can leave here, Willow. I have to be around horses. It's my life. It's all I know.”
“I didn't say anything about leaving or you not being around horses. I said we need to talk about what we're going to do. That includes Emmie.”
“Okay. Listen, I just want to shower and change. I'll be down in a few minutes.”
“Take your time. I'll unpack our suitcases and meet you downstairs.”
In the bathroom with the door closed and locked, Nick broke down and sobbed, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. “I'm sorry I let you down,
Dad.
”
In the foyer, Willow reached for her jacket. A breath of fresh air might be just what she needed. A walk around the yard might clear her head a little. She was on her second lap when she noticed the mailman trying to jam mail into Emmie's box and having a hard time of it. She jogged forward and held out her hand. The after-Christmas sale catalogs were heavy. She staggered under their weight and on into the house, where she shrugged out of her jacket. She called out to Emmie as she entered the kitchen. “I brought your mail in. Guess in the excitement of going on the cruise you forgot to notify the post office to hold your mail. Nick thinks you might have some bills that need to be paid. Oh, Emmie, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were asleep.”
“I guess I dozed off. It's not a problem. Our coffee is ready. I've been meaning to go out and pick up the mail, but I simply didn't want to make the effort. I guess it did pile up. Two weeks' worth from the looks of things. I'll go through it later.”
“No, let's go through it now,” Nick said, entering the kitchen. “I don't want to see you get a bad credit rating. You need to pay your bills on time. I would like some coffee, ladies.”
“Oh, yes sir, kind sir, it will be my pleasure to serve you some coffee. Would you like me to whip you up a double chocolate cake while I'm at it?” Willow teased.
“Nope. We ate too much rich food on vacation. Coffee will do just fine.” Nick sorted through the first-class mail. “You have a certified letter one of your neighbors signed for. Guess they just stuck it back in your box. It came sometime last week. It's from Josh Coleman's lawyer, the one Mom sent packing. You remember, the ornery, dumb one who couldn't get anything right. Do you want me to open it?”
“Be my guest, then chuck it. I don't want anything to do with those people and all those crazy lawyers. All lawyers do is bleed you dry.”