The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield (90 page)

"I'm not sure that the place is quite party-ready, Char," Melissa added with an uncertain purse of her lips. "It needs some prepping."

I nodded. "I'm with you. From our tour, the place looks to be in pretty good shape given its age. Simone's great-auntie did her best with this ancient house."

"Thank you," Simone intoned with a solemn nod and an almost smug smile.

I grinned. “I’m sure that within two weeks, we can bring some professional cleaners in and someone who can stage the place to be this great house it once was."

"I know someone with a knack for staging a place so well you can sell it to anyone."

We all stopped at the familiar voice and turned around nearly in unison to find its source.

Layla stood a few feet away behind us, just by a large oak tree, with her mouth curled up in a smile and her arm around the slight shoulders of the boy she kept close to her side.

"Riley!" I blurted out delightedly, my arms extended as I was about to rush to the boy. I stopped in my tracks when the other ladies around me turned their heads in my direction and gave me puzzled looks.

My smile dropped along with my arms. 

I smiled sheepishly. "Uh, Riley's a friend of mine."

That didn't seem to explain anything but their heads swung back the opposite way when Layla laughed softly and and walked over to our group without removing her protective arm around the boy who was grinning up at me crookedly.

"Hello, ladies," Layla greeted calmly despite the variety of expressions flitting across the faces of the other members. If they had bubble thoughts visible, it would've been flicking through like a comic strip. 

"Sorry, I'm late. I was out of town in the past week and I just got back in this morning. I had to rush over here," Layla explained before gesturing to Riley. "I hope you don't mind but I brought Riley—my son."

I met Layla's eye in that split-second before the rest of the world erupted around us in a comical chaos of incredulous outbursts and shrill shrieks of disbelief.

Seriously. 

Even Simone hadn’t remembered yet to shut her mouth. She was still gaping at her best friend.

I was a little bit stunned myself.

The fact that Layla showed up when I thought she was still in Seattle trying to come clean to her father, and announced to the world (which would be the equivalent of the Championettes) that Riley was her son when I thought the boy didn't even know, was truly epic. 

The woman didn't do things in half-measures when she finally had her head screwed in place.

My respect for her grew when, despite the sudden scrutiny, she added to the fire by announcing that she was divorcing Don. She didn’t give out the sordid details, just simply explained that their marriage wasn’t working out anymore.

I listened patiently, hovering just outside the circle as the others grilled her, but I couldn’t help my reflex when Catherine blurted out, “Whatever could be possibly wrong with you, Layla? First you were a knocked-up teenager and next you’re divorcing your husband? Have you lost your mind?”

“You make it sound as if she just went and committed a crime and now has to be stoned to death,” I said sharply, grateful that Layla had encouraged Riley to go and wander off when the barrage of questions came. They boy was out of earshot, talking to Gilles whose hand gestures suggested he was explaining something about the car to the kid.

The other members turned in my direction and from the wary looks on their faces, I may have sounded more than sharp. 

“I personally don’t appreciate being led on to believe that someone is of outstanding character when she isn’t,” Catherine said with a sulky pout. “Now, I question the wisdom of the decision we’ve all made based only on the facts we’d known at the time.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Why? Because you wouldn’t have allowed her into the Society if you’d known all her dirty laundry? Don’t be overdramatic, Catherine. If outstanding character was a make-or-break qualification for membership in this group, the lot of us wouldn’t be able to get a foot in the door, including you. You may not have been weak or unwise when you were fifteen, or saddled with a husband who makes you unhappy—kudos to you—but to have you diminish the worth of those who had made mistakes makes you worse. You’re being deliberately mean and unkind.”

“I’m merely expressing an opinion!” she protested, red in the face.

I raised a brow. “Why don’t you make an informed one for a change, before you bluster it about? Do you think Layla would do this to herself, knowing what she risks losing, for shits and giggles?”

I knew I was getting angry but I didn’t realize I was trembling with fury until a firm hand clasped my arm, echoing the tremors running along it.

Layla gave it a reassuring squeeze before facing Catherine with an admirable calm, her chin raised ever so slightly. “While I’d like to keep the details of my personal struggles private, I understand your confusion. So let me put it this way—the comfort zone I’d kept myself in all these years was really nothing more but a gilded cage. While that perfectly insular world gave me a sense of protection, it did not give me peace because prison isn’t a place for that. Prison is where you serve your penance and I’ve served mine long enough. I have a son who is growing up fast without me, and Im not going to sit around and waste more time. While I know it’s not going to be friendly out there, my son is worth all the trouble in the world.”

Something thick and heavy was lodged in my heart, in an old crack that had long ago opened and never mended, as I thought of how lucky Riley was, to have a mother who loved him enough to fight for him. He was young enough that the broken parts of his heart could still heal and become whole again.

“It’s easy to make mistakes and even easier to leave them behind,” Simone spoke up in a measured tone, sweeping a daring glance at everyone listening. “I think that those who own up to them and do their best to rectify them, no matter how difficult and painful the process is, deserve another chance. Whatever your opinions are, I’m with Layla.”

I smiled in spite of my frustration. 

Since day one, Simone seemed to be happy staying on neutral ground, happy to keep the status quo, no matter how unhappy or uncomfortable it made her. It cheered me up that when she finally took a stand, she took it next to her best friend who had a real cause this time. 

“I don’t see an issue with Layla’s revelations either,” Melissa said, stepping forward. “The reality is, shit happens and it happens to everyone. So what? I’m glad she hasn’t let it put her life on hold. And if she’d like to continue serving the Society, I don’t see why we should try to stop her.”

“Thank you, ladies,” Layla said softly, a tremulous smile on her lips. “I wasn’t the best example when it came to open-mindedness and I don’t blame the others for putting me under the same magnifying glass and looking for everything that’s wrong. I’d like to stay. I actually take pride in what we do here, beyond all the fancy frills. My life is going to be chaotic for the next little bit but it doesn’t mean I won’t make time for my duties with you.”

“Then it’s settled,” I announced with a finality I dared anyone to challenge, especially Catherine who still looked slightly mutinous. “We’re not going to prosecute anyone who has had shit happen to them in hope that we’ll all be granted the same courtesy when it’s our turn to deal with the occasional mess of our lives. Anyone who’d like to insist on the point of perfection as a membership requirement can come up to me and receive the honor of being the first beneficiary of our completely impossible yet seemingly important standards. You’ll be escorted out at the first flaw. Do I make myself clear?”

Melissa had a twinkle in her eye, Simone looked solemn, Layla stood with quiet dignity and everyone else squirmed at my ruthless challenge.

When the group finally murmured their agreement, I turned around and headed for Riley who was now standing with two formidable-looking men—Gilles and a big, hulking giant who reminded me of a mammoth in a sharp black suit. Even Gilles looked nearly cherubic next to this man.

“Charlotte!” Riley was beaming from ear to ear as he ran up to meet me, knocking the breath out of me a little at the force of the hug he slammed into me. “It’s so good to see you! Your house was so nice! Uncle Danny said with a little refurbishing, you could sell it for a lot more.”

I grinned and put an arm around him. The last time we saw each other was when we rescued him from that little boxing match he’d wrangled himself into almost two weeks ago. I’d talked to him on the phone a few times but he looked a hundred times happier right now, with his eyes twinkling in the bright mid-day sun. 

“I’ll ask him about it next time I see him,” I promised the boy. “Are you guys still there? I didn’t even know Layla was back until I saw her with you half an hour ago.”

Riley nodded. “Yeah, we’re still staying there. She just arrived early this morning and told us that we’re going to move. We’ll have to stay there for another week or so until Mom finds another house where we can all stay together—a bigger and nicer one!” His expression clouded over and he sent me an apologetic look. “Not that your house wasn’t big or nice. I liked it there very much. But it would be nice if we have our own house and Mom could live in it too.”

I smiled at the boy gently. “Mom, huh? You don’t seem surprised.”

Riley scrunched up his nose for a bit before smiling back crookedly at me, his voice hushed in a conspiratorial tone. “I kinda knew. A year ago, when she thought I was already asleep, she called me her son. Even if it weren’t really true, I’ll still want her to be my Mom. When she finally told me today, when she finally stopped crying for about twenty minutes, it was just kind of a bonus.”

“She’s very happy to be your Mom, I can tell you that,” I told him with a quick ruffle of his hair. “And yes, I’m sure you’ll find a nice, big house where you can live together and your Mom doesn’t have to leave you again.”

“And that bad guy she married won’t hurt her anymore,” the boy added gravely, his eyes all too knowing when he lifted them up to meet mine. 

I gave his shoulder a firm pat. “That’s right. He can’t hurt her anymore.”

Riley glanced over his shoulder to look at the giant man standing next to Gilles, watching us. “That’s Boris. Mom said he’s her bodyguard. He’ll beat up anyone who tries anything funny with her.”

Boris certainly looked capable and as though he could see me through the nearly black tint of his sunglasses, he nodded at me in acknowledgement. 

Yeah, Don may be savage but even lions heeded the physical risks before going for an attack.

I could literally tear a strip off him but Boris would make crumbs out of his bones.

“You two. It’s time for lunch,” Layla said as she came over to us, her smile genuine and bright despite the exhaustion I could spy on her face. “Simone had a small feast prepared in the solarium.”

Riley’s face brightened but he paused just right before he was about to take off in a sprint. “Will they let me join in?”

Layla grinned. “Yes, as long as you eat with your cutlery, avoid stuffing your face swollen with food like you’re in a contest, finish chewing before you speak, and say please and thank you when appropriate.”

Riley scratched his head a little, contemplating his mother’s summary of good table manners, before nodding and running off to follow the group of ladies who headed inside the house in a more leisurely pace.

“I’m glad you told him,” I told Layla as we walked. “He’s over the moon.”

“I know,” Layla replied with a sniffle. “The thing was, he seemed to have known it all along anyway. He just smiled and opened his arms to hug me. I don’t deserve to have this so easy but I’m not going to complain.”

“We’ll take our victories where we can find them.” I glanced at her and saw her soft smile. “I’m assuming you’ve talked to your Dad and it went well.”

She sighed. “I did talk to my father. It wasn’t an easy conversation—he’d yelled at me for not telling him about getting pregnant all those years ago, then he cried when I told him about Riley, then he railed about Don so much I was worried for a second he was going to have a heart attack. But I found that once I started telling the truth, I just kept going. It was draining but I’m so glad to be done with all the pretense.”

“Have you confronted Don since you got back?” 

“Not yet.” There was a steely edge in her voice. “I’m setting up my safety nets first before I face him, hopefully to lessen the collateral damage I know we’ll cause. My father wants to put a bullet through his heart but he’s agreed to let me call the shots on how I extricate my life completely from Don’s. It’ll be a few more days. I’m working with a new lawyer right now. I hope you don’t mind if Riley and Danny linger at your place for another week or so. Val, Boris’s partner, will be keeping an eye on the place in case Don has some funny business in mind.”

“Stay as long as you’d like,” I reassured her. “I don’t mind helping in any way I can.”

Layla stopped in her tracks all of a sudden and I had to back up a step. 

“And you really don’t, do you, Charlotte?” she asked quietly. “You don’t mind helping, even if it’s someone who’d done all they could before to make you miserable. Whether it be me or Bessy.”

I bit my lip. “Bessy told you?”