Chapter Seven
“Are you comfortable?” Hayden asked as she fussed with the end of Kathleen’s bed, straightening the covers, then restraightening them.
Kathleen hated that she was putting her family through this. “Yes. The new Fentanyl patch is working wonderfully. There’s no pain.”
“If you start to hurt, though, you’ll tell me? Marti left medications for breakthrough pain.”
Kathleen nodded. “I will. But right now, I’m okay. Sit down and catch your breath.”
“I’m fine.”
Kathleen knew that Hayden wasn’t fine. Neither were Brian and Livie.
She hoped that the kids finally admitted they belonged together, that they were done with trials, even though she knew better. Relationships, like life, were filled with highs and lows. Brian and Hayden were going through an unprecedented low now, and she could only wish they’d find their way out of it.
Dying wasn’t the hard part, leaving behind those she loved and knowing they were hurting, was.
“I know I’ve said it before, but I appreciate your moving back in here and putting your house on the market. I know how hard you worked for it.”
“You don’t have to thank me. Living together makes sense, and as much as I loved my house, this has always been home.”
Kathleen groped for a happy memory, something sweet for them to focus on. There were so many to choose from, but it only took a minute for her to find the right one. “Today I’ve been remembering another move.…”
April 1995
Hayden peeked into the living room of her small house. She’d scrimped and saved to buy it. Even after years of living here, she still sometimes felt awed that it was hers—that she’d bought it on her own.
From the doorway, she watched her daughter. Livie’s auburn hair was twisted into a long ponytail that dragged along the sill as she craned her neck one way and then the other, obviously trying to see something better.
Hayden had come to check on her five-year-old because time had taught her one of life’s most important mothering lessons—if a child is too quiet, something is generally wrong, or they’re into something they shouldn’t be.
“What’s up, hon?”
Livie, a miniature Kathleen, right down to the slight sprinkling of freckles and the clear, true-blue eyes, turned, concern etching her face. “Is Nana leaving?”
Hayden joined her daughter at the front window and peered two doors down Briar Hill Road to Kathleen’s house. A giant moving truck sat in the driveway.
“No, I’m sure she’s not leaving. But I wonder what’s up?”
“I’d like her to move in with us. I liked living with Nana when I was a baby.”
Hayden was politic enough not to mention that since Olivia was only two when they moved away from Kathleen’s, she was pretty sure the little girl didn’t actually remember living with her grandmother. Olivia’s memories were inspired by Kathleen’s stories and were very real to her.
Olivia was a story collector. She listened intently to all of Kathleen’s tales of when Hayden and Brian were small. Lately, Livie had been stuck on ghosts and bikers, after Kathleen told her about the first time Hayden had come to the house. Halloween was six months away, and Livie was already mulling over what she’d wear, uncertain which costume she wanted to copy.
“Can we go to Nana’s and check?”
“Sure. We can go investigate, nosy Rosey, her mama’s posy.”
“Olivia Kathleen-Rose Conway, nosy Rosey, her mama’s posy.” Livie parroted the rhyme Hayden had made up years ago. The little girl tried to look miffed, because Hayden knew she felt she was too old for baby nicknames, but she couldn’t quite pull it off.
As Hayden chuckled, Livie joined in.
“Let’s go.”
Livie hurried to the front door, threw it I open, but before she could make her escape, Hayden said, “Stop. Put a jacket on. It’s cool.”
It had been a cool and damp spring. Hayden reminded herself that all the rain was responsible for the lush green colors that had flooded the winter-gray landscape, but every now and again she couldn’t convince herself that it was a good thing. Mainly when Livie forgot and tracked mud through the house.
Livie sighed the sigh of the truly put upon. Hayden only laughed as she pulled her own coat on.
Livie was skipping across Miss Witman’s lawn before Hayden had the door shut. She hurried after her daughter, taking the sidewalk, not the lawn, not that Miss Witman would have minded. She was a sweet older lady and over the last three years had grown accustomed to the comings and goings between Hayden’s and Kathleen’s homes.
Kathleen’s front door stood open as Hayden approached. She hurried in and shut it behind her. “Livie Conway, were you born in a barn? It’s cold out and you left your Nana’s door …”
The sentence faded as she spotted her daughter, Kathleen and Brian in the living room.
“Surprise.” He was entangled in little girl, but he stood and walked toward Hayden, Livie holding tightly to him like a small chimp. Arms around his neck, legs around his stomach, as if she was afraid he’d disappear if she let go.
“I begged Mom to keep the secret,” he offered as an explanation, although it didn’t really answer anything about him arriving with a moving truck.
Kathleen was the picture of happiness as she looked from her son and granddaughter to Hayden. “It was the hardest thing he’s ever asked me to do. Secrets have never been my strongest suit.”
“Secret?” They all looked excited, and Hayden knew whatever the secret was, it was a good one.
“Mom, Daddy’s moving home. He’s staying with Nana until he can find his own house and he’s going to live here in Bridgeville—”
“Well, somewhere in the Pittsburgh area,” he corrected.
“From now on. Forever. I can see him all the time, and sometimes spend the night at his house, right, Daddy?”
Brian’s eyes never left Hayden. He watched her as he nodded. “Right.”
Hayden couldn’t sort out her emotions. On one hand, Livie was obviously delighted having her father so near; on the other, it had been relatively easy dealing with Brian when there was an entire continent between them, except for one long weekend a month. Would it make things harder if he demanded more time with Livie?
The mere thought made her feel guilty and she reminded herself of her old promise that she’d do whatever she could to facilitate Brian spending as much time as he could—as he wanted to—with their daughter.
“You’re moving back?” she asked just to be sure she was hearing things correctly.
He nodded again.
“For good?”
Another nod. “So, are you surprised?” He looked nervous, as if he wasn’t sure what her reaction would be.
“Flabbergasted.”
“Flabb … flabb … Say it again, Mommy.”
Hayden dutifully obeyed. “Flabbergasted.”
“Flabbergasted.” Livie nodded. “Spell it.”
“F-l-a-b-b-e-r-g-a-s-t-e-d.”
Livie parroted the letters back. Brian looked quizzically.
“We watched the last National Spelling Bee, and ever since, Livie’s been planning to be the champ someday, so she spells everything.”
“I didn’t know.” A flash of pain crossed his face.
He and Hayden had both worked so hard over the last five years to keep him and Livie connected. He’d read her a bedtime story before she was even old enough to register who the voice was coming from the receiver.
Noticing how missing so much hurt him, noticing how happy Livie was, again Hayden made a promise to herself to do whatever it took to share their daughter.
“I’m sorry,” Hayden said. “I thought I’d told you about the spelling bee-itis.”
“It’s okay. I’m here now, and I won’t miss out on things like spelling-bee champs in the making.”
“Daddy, Daddy, can I help carry in your boxes? How many do you have? It looks like a lot. Maybe Mommy’s friend Alex, could come help. Is Lisa in the back of the truck with the boxes? I’d like to ride in the back, but it would probably be dark.” Livie’s brow furrowed, then lightened. “But I could take the new flashlight Mommy bought me and then I wouldn’t mind, so I could try it.”
“What about a seat belt?” Hayden asked.
“Oh, yeah. I can’t ride without a seat belt. But maybe you’d take me for a ride in the front? It has a seat belt, right?”
“Right. And if Mommy says, you can ride with me when I take the truck back to the store,” Brian said, smiling at the mile-a-minute monologues that Livie specialized in. His smile faded abruptly. “But about Lisa.”
He paused and then slowly said, “Honey, she’s not in the back of the van—”
“Oh. I guess it wouldn’t be fun riding with boxes if you didn’t have a flashlight. But she can use mine if she wants.”
He sat on the couch, and pulled Livie onto his lap, obviously as loath to release her as she was to release him. “That’s very generous of you to offer to share your flashlight. But Lisa’s not with me.”
“When does she arrive?” Hayden asked.
Hayden and Lisa had a painfully polite relationship. Lisa didn’t like her, and Hayden was all right with that. Hayden was pretty sure Lisa didn’t like Olivia, either. Had she been mean to Livie, Hayden would have said something, but Brian’s wife was the soul of politeness, so Hayden had let it ride, knowing it must be hard for Lisa to deal with Brian’s ready-made family.
“About Lisa,” Brian said again. He smoothed Livie’s wild hair a moment. “You see, she’s not coming. She’s staying in California. Daddy and Lisa aren’t going to be married anymore.”
“Oh. Because she didn’t like me?” Livie asked, echoing Hayden’s thoughts. Thoughts she’d never voiced to her daughter.
Livie was too smart, too intuitive for her own good sometimes.
“Livie, honey,” Brian said softly. Hayden could hear the emotion clogging his throat. “Lisa loved you. She still does. It’s just that Daddy and Lisa haven’t been happy in a long while. Sometimes that happens to grownups. They love each other for a while, and then they stop.”
“Maybe you’ll stop loving me?”
Brian hugged Livie fiercely. “Never. Parents never, ever stop loving their children.”
“Mommy’s mommy did. She doesn’t love Mommy or me. She never came to see us when she lived down the street. We met her at the grocery store one day when I was really little and she didn’t even say hi. I went with Mommy later to her mommy’s new home and she called Mommy a—”
“I know,” Kathleen said, interrupting the painful discussion, “let’s go out for ice cream and celebrate the fact my son’s come home.”
“Sounds good, Mom.” Brian shot Kathleen a look of pure gratitude.
Hayden ached for Brian. A divorce would hit him hard. “Yes, it does sound great. Just let me run and lock up the house. After, we can help unload the van.”
Hayden was glad to get away briefly and collect herself. Hearing her daughter talk about her own mother, obviously remembering the cruel words, hurt. It wasn’t Hayden’s fault, she knew, but still she felt guilty.
Add to that, Brian’s moving home, that Lisa wasn’t coming, left her feeling breathless. Her heart sped up, but she savagely tried to calm it. Brian was here to be close to his daughter, not to be close to her.
She opened her front door, grabbed her purse from the front closet and was on her way back out when the phone rang.
She didn’t even think twice about answering it. She just picked it up because of some Pavlovian need to answer it. “Hello?”
“Hayden, it’s Donna at the nursing home.”
“Oh.” Her heart sank. She had no doubt the news wouldn’t be pleasant. She forced a more cheerful response. “Hi, Donna. What’s up?”
“Your mother’s worse than normal. Could you come over?”
Hayden glanced out the window. Brian had pulled Kathleen’s car into the driveway with Livie and Kathleen in the backseat.
She so wanted to be a part of the celebration, but now that Brian was home, she’d have to get used to Livie doing things with him, without her. She’d just have to send them on their way. “Yes, I’ll be over in a few minutes.”
“Sorry. I would have let it be until tomorrow, but the nursing supervisor, Corrine, wants to talk to you about your mom seeing a specialist.”
“Sure. I understand.”
“I know you do.”
Being a nurse, Hayden took a very active role in her mother’s healthcare, not that her mother appreciated it. As a matter of fact, her mother resented being in a home, and blamed Hayden for it, rather than blaming her years of hard living and heavy drinking for her ill health and slipping mental status.
Part of Hayden wanted to wash her hands of the whole situation. It was no more than her mother deserved. But Hayden knew she couldn’t do that. She’d never be able to live with herself if she walked away. Alex, the man she’d been casually dating for a few months, told her she was a sap, allowing herself to be used. But Hayden knew that wasn’t it. She looked out for her mother because it was the right thing to do.
It’s what Kathleen would have done.
And, although she couldn’t walk away from her mother’s needs, she did feel a twinge of resentment from time to time.
Today was one of those times.
She got her purse and went out to the car, leaning over to the driver’s window. “Sorry, guys. I got a call from the nursing home. Why don’t you all go for the ice cream, and I’ll see about my mother.”
“Problems?” Brian asked.
She’d never spoken to him of her mother and the decision last year to move her into a home. She’d never told him about the month of paperwork, getting her mother into the medicaid program in order to pay for it. She didn’t talk about her mother any more than she absolutely had to.
Her mom was in the residential part of the facility, in a safe, supervised setting. All her needs were cared for. And she hated every minute of it. It had taken a third-degree burn from a small kitchen fire and a judge to get her somewhere safe.
“No new problems, just the same old, same old.” At his worried expression, she added, “I can handle it.”
Kathleen leaned up from the backseat. “Hayden, why don’t we go with you?”
“No.” Hayden had tried taking Livie there once, thinking her mother would enjoy seeing her granddaughter, and it had been a debacle. She wouldn’t put anyone else through it. “I don’t know how long it will take.”
“We’ll wait,” Brian said firmly.
“But—”
“Mommy, I don’t wanna go without you. Daddy was telling me about his trip ’cross the country. He was talking about the lake salt—”
“Salt Lake,” Brian corrected.
Livie nodded. “And he’s going to show me a map when we get back. He can just tell me more stories until you’re done. Please?”
Hayden softened. She could see that it was important to Livie to have them all together and gave in like the soft touch Kathleen always accused her of being. “Fine. If you all are sure you don’t mind waiting in the car. But do you mind stopping at the doughnut store first?”
“Doughnuts and ice cream?” Brian looked puzzled.
“It’s not for us,” Livie said. “When Mommy’s mom is mean, she takes treats in for the nurses. She says she’s had patients like her mom and feels bad for the nurses. She wants them to know she app …”
“Appreciates,” Hayden filled in.
“Appreciates,” Livie repeated. “Spell it.”
“A-p-p-r-e-c-i-a-t-e-s,” Brian,” said.
“A-p-p-r-e-c-i-a-t-e-s,” Livie echoed, then nodded. “Mommy wants them to know she appreciates them.”
Brian agreed. “Doughnuts it is, then. Let’s go”
Olivia chattered during the entire ride. Telling her father about her school class, about her ballet classes … about everything. Most of the information he’d heard during their nightly conversations, but he listened again, “oohing” and “ahhing” at the appropriate moments.
They let Hayden out at the doughnut store, and after she’d bought her treats for the nursing staff, they drove the last couple minutes to the home. Hayden got out with two dozen doughnuts in hand.
“Listen, why don’t you all go get your ice cream, then come back and pick me up?” she tried again.
“We’ll wait.” Brian looked stubborn.
“Fine. I’ll hurry.” To be honest, she’d have hurried regardless. Visiting her mother wasn’t the highlight of any particular day. Consumed by alcoholism, Jeri MacNulty had been disinterested since day one. So after years of not having anything to do with her mother, Hayden now bore responsibility for her healthcare needs. There was no one else. And despite the fact that her mother never cared for her, Hayden couldn’t bring herself to turn away.
When she was honest with herself, she admitted that she wanted to do exactly that, turn away. There were times that she felt as if she was going to boil over with hurt and anger over the situation, but she couldn’t ignore someone in need. Not even her mother.
She found Donna at the second-floor nursing station. “I bring you bribes.” She set down the two boxes of doughnuts.
“You don’t have to keep doing this.” But even as Donna said the words, the nurse opened the lid of one of the boxes. “Cream-filled. My favorite.” She looked up at Hayden, doughnut in hand. “Like I said, you don’t have to, but thanks.”
“I do know what it’s like, so it’s my pleasure.” Hayden wished she could stay here and talk to Donna, but she knew she had to at least make an effort to check on her mother. “Is she in her room?”
“Yes. I’ll tell Corrine that you’re here.”
Suddenly, there was a loud scream from down the hall. “My mother?”
Donna nodded.
“I’ll check on her while you find Corrine.”
Hayden made her way down the hall to her mother’s room.
She might be a nurse, but she couldn’t help crinkling her nose at the smell. It wasn’t just the ripe scent of urine, it was more. Hopelessness masked by anger. It was the smell of time running out.
Though they all had rooms, many of the residents milled about the halls. Some in chairs, some in walkers, all of them waiting. Waiting for someone to visit. Waiting for something to happen. Waiting to die.
Hayden tried to smile, stopping for a word or two of hellos to those she knew, which on the surface sounded nice, but if she was honest it was just a way to delay seeing her mother.
But she reached her mom’s door and knew there was no more putting it off. Her hand on the knob, she made up her mind that this time, she was going to be sympathetic.
She opened the door.
“You.” Her mother pointed a shaky, boney finger in Hayden’s direction as she stepped into the room. “You put me here. You and that judge. They’re trying to kill me, you know, and I’m sure that’s what you’re hoping for. But I stopped that girl. She tried to do me in, but I beat her off.”
“No one is trying to kill you, and you can’t go beating on people.” Hayden moved closer to the wheelchair. “You have to try to behave.”
“Oh, don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m sure you’re enjoying this. It’s your revenge, having the judge say I can’t make my own decisions and putting you in charge. First thing you do is stash me in this hellhole so you can steal all my money and gloat over my suffering.”
Hayden didn’t mention that even after selling the small brick house at the end of Briar Hill Road, there hadn’t been enough money to even begin to cover her mother’s debt. She didn’t say that she’d had to dip into her own meager savings to clear things up. She didn’t say anything at all as her mother continued raging, blaming Hayden for her current woes, for everything that had ever gone wrong in her life.
The irony that she was caring for the mother who’d never cared for her wasn’t lost on Hayden. But she just knew she couldn’t do anything less. Some might say that made her a doormat, but she preferred to think it showed she had strength of character, compassion even. At least, that’s what she told herself when she wondered for the umpteenth time, why she bothered.
“Hayden, could you come to the office?” Donna asked from the doorway.
“And her—” her mother pointed at Donna “—she’s the worst. She hates me. She wants to kill me, to keep me quiet.”
Hayden told her mother, “I’ve got to see Corrine, but I’ll come say goodbye before I leave.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll sit here in this room and rot. That’s what you want. I’ll …”
Hayden and Donna exited the room, leaving her mother to continue her tirade on her own.
“I’m so sorry,” Hayden told Donna. Since moving her mother into the home, she’d perfected the art of apologizing.
“And you don’t have to be. You haven’t done anything other than act like a concerned, caring daughter.”
Hayden didn’t admit it, but she knew the words were unwarranted. She wasn’t taking care of her mother because she genuinely cared.
The meeting with Corrine went quickly. The staff had talked about Jeri, and wanted to bring in a geriatric psychiatrist, hoping she’d have some recommendations for keeping Hayden’s mother calmer, more rational. Her mental state was deteriorating fast.
When Hayden had agreed, signed the papers and finished the short meeting, she went back down the hall to tell her mother goodbye.
“Go. Just go,” Jeri hollered.
Hayden wanted nothing more than to turn and hurry out to the car where her family, her real family, was waiting for her. But her mother chose that moment to sweep her hand across a small table, sending everything on it crashing to the floor.
Knowing her family would have to wait another minute, Hayden bent to pick up the mess.
Brian shifted around in his seat so that he could see his mother and his daughter. Livie was still animatedly telling him about everything from school to her friends.
This was the right decision. For the last five years, he’d gone back and forth between the life he’d built in California, his career and friends and his family here in Pittsburgh. When he and Lisa had finally admitted their marriage wasn’t working for reasons that had little to do with his family in Pittsburgh, and everything to do with the fact that they weren’t suited for one another, he’d known coming back here was the correct thing to do.
As Child Welfare Director, he’d helped put policies in place that he felt had made the California’s practices better, had seen to the needs of the children. There was more to be done, but he’d known it was time to leave the job to someone else.
Finally, here in the car, he felt whole rather than torn. His mom was smiling, her hand gently placed on Livie’s shoulder. His daughter looked more like his mother than she did like him and Hayden. The same red hair, the same twinkle in her blue eyes. But now, her eyes weren’t twinkling, they’d become concerned. “Daddy, be nice to Mama when she comes out. Visiting here makes her sad.”
“Sad?”
Livie nodded. “Her mom’s not a very nice lady. She yells at Mommy a lot.”
He noted that Livie never referred to Hayden’s mom as her grandmother. There was no more connection between Jeri MacNulty and Livie than there had ever been between the woman and Hayden.
“Why is Hayden here then?” he asked his mother. “Why take care of her? The woman never did anything for Hayden.”
“You know Hayden, or at least you should,” Kathleen explained softly. “She couldn’t do anything but what she’s doing. Hayden’s all heart. Her mom’s mind is getting worse every day. Physically, she’s fine.” She nodded toward Livie, and changed the topic, asking Livie if she wanted to go to the zoo on Saturday.
The contentment Brian felt watching his mother and daughter together was marred by his concern for Hayden. The minutes ticked by and when she still hadn’t come out, he said, “Let me run in and check on her.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” His mother’s brows were knit with concern.
But Livie didn’t seem to share it. “Yes, go tell her to hurry up so we can get our ice cream.”
Reluctantly, his mother gave him the room information. Brian made his way through a lovely lobby to the elevators and up to the appropriate floor. This was more homey than a hospital. The floors were a fake parquet. There were paintings on the walls, and residents lining the hall, with busy looking nurses and aides weaving in and out amongst them.
He turned to the hall his mother had directed him to, and heard the screaming. He followed the numbers and found Hayden’s mother’s room was the one where all the noise was coming from.
The door was open, so he walked in and saw Mrs. MacNulty sitting in a wheelchair, berating her daughter. Hayden was just standing there, her hands filled with pieces of what looked to have been a lamp.
“They’re going to kill me and you’re worried because a little lamp broke? You’re just leaving me here to die? You’ll be happy when they’ve done me in. Then you won’t have to deal with me anymore—”
“That’s enough,” Brian found himself saying as he faced Mrs. MacNulty. “How dare you speak to Hayden that way, after everything she’s done for you? Her whole life you neglected her. And despite that, she’s here, taking care of you. So don’t you dare—”
Hayden was glaring at him. “That’s enough, Brian.” She threw the pieces into the waste-basket, then turned to her mother. “You’ll be seeing a new doctor tomorrow—try to behave. I’ll be back tomorrow night before work to check on you.” She whirled on Brian. “And you, out in the hall!”
Not knowing what else to do, why she was obviously so upset, Brian followed. She shut the door behind her and backed him up to the wall. “Don’t you ever do that again.”
“What? I don’t know what I did.”
“Brian, I’m an adult. I’m not Cootie MacNulty who needs you to play white knight on the bus. I’ve coped with everything life has thrown at me, and I’ll cope with this, in my own way, on my own terms. No rescuing required.”
He realized his mistake. “You’re right about everything you said. You’re not Cootie MacNulty, and you don’t need to be rescued. I just …” He paused. “I’m sorry. Livie said to be nice to you when you came out, that coming here made you sad. I can’t stand seeing you sad, seeing you hurt. I never could.”
She reached out and he thought she was going to touch him, but she didn’t. Her hand fell back to her side. “I know. I’m sorry I snapped like that. It was well meant, but Brian, now that you’re home for a while—”
“For good. I’m home for good,” he corrected.
She nodded. “Just because you’re here doesn’t mean you can step in and take over. I’m used to handling things on my own. Well, on my own with Kathleen’s help.”
“I want to help, too, if you’ll let me.”
“With Livie. You’re entitled and Livie’s going to want to spend as much time with you as possible. With Livie you can help, but with the rest of my life, my mother, my boyfriend, with all of it outside of Livie, hands off.”
“Boyfriend?” That stopped him short. He remembered Livie saying something about Mommy’s friend Alex. The thought of a boyfriend didn’t sit well.
Oh, he knew that Hayden had to have had relationships in the past, but she’d never mentioned them and he’d never asked. A boyfriend? He wanted to ask about the man, but knew he didn’t have the right.
Hayden shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe boyfriend’s too strong a word for Alex. Friend.”
“With benefits?” The look on her face told him she wasn’t in the mood for joking. “Kidding. Seriously, just kidding.”
At least he thought he’d been kidding. But as he dealt with a spurt of disappointment because she hadn’t answered the question, he realized that maybe he hadn’t been kidding. And that was absurd. He and Hayden were friends. What she did in her dating life was her own business.
Intellectually, he knew that.
“Livie and your mom are waiting,” Hayden said. “Let’s forget about this spat and get some ice cream.” Her smile seemed forced as she started walking briskly down the hall.
Brian took off after her and grabbed her arm as he came up behind her. “Hayden, I really was kidding. I know it was inappropriate, that time and distance has taken its toll on our friendship and that kind of joking isn’t appropriate. I won’t do it again. But if for no other reason than our daughter, I do want to find a way for us to have a relationship. A friendship. Maybe not what we once had, but—”
“Brian, I’ve never stopped thinking of you as a friend.”
“Me, neither.”
They walked to the elevator. As they waited, Hayden asked, “So, as a friend, can I inquire if you’re okay with your separation from—”
“More than that. She’s pushing for a quick divorce. She’ll be my ex-wife soon.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I. It’s been a long time coming, and I know it’s for the best, but still, I’m sorry.” He shook off the deep morose that threatened to overwhelm him as he thought about the failure his marriage to Lisa had been. “Let’s go get that ice cream. Tonight, we’re not worrying about your mother, or my messed-up life, and we’ll concentrate on our daughter. About making her happy.”
“Deal. Let’s go. Bet you’re getting a chocolate milkshake, and I’m going to let you buy me a—”
“Banana split.” At her surprised expression, he added, “I might have been gone a long time, but there are some things you don’t forget.”
What he didn’t add was that where Hayden was concerned, there was nothing he’d forgotten.
Nothing.
Brian wasn’t sure why he’d been thinking so much about when he’d first moved back home from California. Maybe he was remembering it because it had been such a happy time. He needed to cling to those memories in order to deal with everything that was happening in the here-and-now.
He peeked into the room Hayden had set up for his mother. Hayden was curled up in the recliner, staring out the window, lost in thought. His mom was sleeping and looked peaceful.
Hayden must have heard him come in. Their eyes met. She placed a finger to her lips, indicating he should be quiet. She rose and followed him from the room. “She’s sleeping.”
“I saw.”
“I should probably get some work done and—”
“You should get some rest yourself. Whatever else needs done will wait.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Bri.” She bristled, just as she always had when he tried to tell her what to do—for her own good.
Hayden had never looked after herself. She’d taken care of Livie, Kathleen, him … even her own worthless mother. But never herself. It might have worked if Hayden would let him step in and care for her when it was warranted, but her stubborn pride wouldn’t allow it.
And though he wouldn’t admit it, that hurt. He wanted to care for Hayden, to ease the pain he knew she felt. The same pain they all felt.
“You’re an emotional wreck,” he said, “and it’s only going to get worse. Take some time for yourself. You’ve been so busy with Mom, with Livie. You’re ignoring your own needs and feelings in order to—”
She glared at him. “And don’t tell me how I feel. How I deal with my pain is my prerogative.”
“Are you two fighting again?”
Brian turned and found Livie standing just outside her bedroom door. At sixteen, his daughter was a beautiful woman. It killed him to acknowledge that fact, but she was, indeed, a woman now. A couple more years and she’d be off to college. “No, honey. Your mom and I weren’t fighting.”
“We’re both tired,” Hayden added.
“All you do since we moved in with Nana is fight.”
“That’s not true, Livie,” Hayden said.
Livie gave them a look of contempt, as if she knew they were lying, then went back into her room and slammed the door.
“She’s right,” Brian admitted. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Me, neither.” She sighed. “You were right, as well. I am tired. I’ll try to take a nap. If Marti comes back, wake me, okay? I have to talk to her about a few things.”
He nodded, leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams.”
She gave him a look of disbelief. “Bri, there are no good dreams right now, only this nightmare. And all we can do is live with it and make it as easy on Kathleen and Livie as we can.”
She turned and walked away. He wanted to stop her, wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her that everything would be okay, but he didn’t say anything.
That was the biggest part of their problem. When they should, neither of them spoke. And when they should be quiet, both of them spoke up, saying things that hurt, words that left scars.
He didn’t know what was going to happen when this was all over.
He didn’t think Hayden knew, either.