Twenty Wishes

“You heard me. He’s rude and arrogant and…and…” She tried to think of a word that adequately described him. “Mean,” she concluded. Making her sit through that debacle of a movie was downright mean.



“What did he say?” Tessa demanded, trotting alongside her.



“He didn’t have to say anything. I got the message.”



“Tell me,” Tessa pleaded. “My mom and grandma are gonna bug me if I don’t tell them what happened.”



“Let me put it succinctly. Mark isn’t interested. Period. If you think he is, then you and your family are sadly mistaken.” Hearing his wheelchair behind her, Barbie whirled around to face him, ignoring the curious bystanders arriving for the next movie. “Isn’t that right, Mark?”



Mark was silent.



“You like her, don’t you, Uncle Mark?”



“I came to see a movie,” he responded, his voice impassive. “If I wanted to find my perfect match, I would’ve gone online. She is right. I’m not interested.”



Barbie tossed the girl an I-told-you-so look and stalked out. She was all the way to the exit when Mark called her name.



“What?” she asked angrily. “Don’t worry,” she told him before he could say a word. “I won’t make the mistake of sitting next to you again—at any movie.”



He blinked, then shrugged as if it made no difference to him. “Whatever.”



Over the years, Barbie had come to hate that word and its connotation of teenage apathy. With as much dignity as she could gather, she continued toward the parking lot.



She was surprised when Tessa ran out of the building after her. “He didn’t mean anything,” she said breathlessly. “How would he know you hated scary movies? He just wanted to find out if you’d be willing to see something besides a romantic comedy. The least you can do is give him another chance.”



“Why are you trying so hard?” Barbie asked. She was willing to accept that she’d made a mistake and move on. As attractive as she found Mark, she wasn’t going to invite his rejection over and over again.



“You have to give him another chance,” Tessa said.



“Why?”



Tessa paused, then answered on a heavy sigh. “Because my uncle Mark deserves to be loved.” Her eyes pleaded with Barbie’s. “This is new to him. He married his high school girlfriend and never loved anyone else and then she dumped him after the accident….” She gulped in a breath. “I’m positive he likes you—only he doesn’t know how to show it.”



Barbie hesitated. If anything about this entire evening astonished her, it was that Mark hadn’t come outside and insisted his niece mind her own business. Delving inside her purse, she searched for a business card. “Okay, fine. Give him this and tell him the next move is his.”



Tessa’s face shone with eagerness as she nodded. “Great! Thank you so much. Thank you, thank you. You won’t be sorry, I promise.”



That remained to be seen.



Feeling wretched, Barbie did what she always did when she needed solace—she drove to her mother’s house.



Lillie opened the door and immediately asked, “What’s wrong?” Without delay she led her into the kitchen. “It isn’t the boys, is it?”



Barbie swallowed hard and shook her head.



Hands on her hips, Lillie stood in the middle of her beautiful, gleaming kitchen. “Should I put on coffee or bring out the shot glasses?”



Barbie managed to smile. “This time I think I need both.”



Lillie took a whiskey bottle from the small liquor cabinet in the kitchen, then started a pot of coffee. That involved first grinding beans, a production Barbie lacked the patience to bother with.



“So, tell me what happened,” Lillie said when she’d made two Irish coffees. She sat on the stool at the counter next to Barbie and they silently toasted each other with the mugs.



“I saw Mark again.”



Her mother nodded. “The man you met at the theater.”



“Yes.” She hadn’t told Lillie much about him, and with good reason. As soon as her mother learned he was in a wheelchair, she’d find a dozen reasons to dissuade her from pursuing him.



Barbie already knew a relationship with Mark wouldn’t be easy. She’d done her homework. All right, she’d looked up a few facts about paraplegics on the Internet. Even his anger with the world wasn’t unusual. Until this evening, she’d assumed she was prepared to deal with it. Apparently not.



Lillie gestured for Barbie to continue. “And…”



“And he…he isn’t interested.”



Lillie cast her a look of disbelief. “That can’t be true. You’re gorgeous, young, accomplished—and a lovely person. Is something wrong with him?”



“Not really.” A half truth.



“He’s not…”



“No, Mother, he’s not gay. Or married.” Barbie wondered how much more she should explain.



Lillie studied her and raised one elegantly curved eyebrow. “What aren’t you telling me?”



Barbie should’ve known her mother would see straight through her prevarication.



Lillie’s voice grew gentler. “What is it, honey?”



Barbie sighed. “If I tell you, I’m afraid you’ll discourage me, and I don’t think I could bear that just now.”



For a long moment her mother didn’t respond. “It’s odd you should say that, seeing I have something I wanted to discuss with you and…and haven’t, for the very same reason.”



“What?” Barbie’s curiosity was instantly piqued. She couldn’t imagine her mother keeping anything from her. They were each other’s support system, especially since David and Gary had died. But then, she’d never supposed she’d ever hide secrets from Lillie, either. Obviously they were both guilty of deception.



Lillie cleared her throat. “I…I recently met someone myself.”



Barbie was stunned. “You haven’t said a word.”



Her mother avoided eye contact. “I’m afraid if I mention…my friend, you’ll discourage me.” She picked up her coffee and took a deep swallow. “This man I met—I believe we’re both afraid of what others will think,” she added. “Jacqueline urged me to ask him out, since he seems reluctant to approach me. But women of my generation don’t do things like that. Yet I find the idea so appealing, I’m willing to put aside everything I’ve had ingrained in me all these years just for the opportunity to spend time with him again.”



Lillie’s cheeks were flushed and her hands trembled slightly as she raised the mug to her lips. It might’ve been the whiskey, but Barbie doubted that. There was more to this. Her mother was the most competent, composed woman she’d ever known and her being so flustered and unnerved over a man was completely out of character.



“Mom, you don’t need to worry what I think.”



“But I do. You’re my daughter and, well…okay, I’m just going to blurt it out.” Lillie straightened her shoulders. “He’s the service manager at the car dealership.”



Barbie couldn’t help it; her jaw dropped. Her mother was attracted to a mechanic—a man with grease under his fingernails? Lillie Higgins, society matron, and a mechanic? Instantly warnings rose in her mind. This man must know that her mother had money. Lillie was lonely and vulnerable, easy prey. Her usual common sense had evidently deserted her, and she needed protection from this gigolo or whatever he was.



Barbie saw that her mother was waiting for her reaction, so she said, “I…see.”



Lillie downed the last of her Irish coffee. “His name is Hector Silva.”



This was as shocking as the fact that he was a mechanic. “He’s Hispanic? Is he legal?”



“Yes! Of course! Hector’s a citizen. He’s decent and hardworking and kind.” She hiccuped once, then covered her face. “This is even worse than I thought it would be,” she moaned.



“No, Mom, really, I apologize. That was a stupid question. It’s just…I don’t know what to think.” She’d assumed her mother couldn’t surprise her; she’d assumed wrong. Of all the men who’d love to date her mother, Lillie had fallen for a mechanic?



Lillie dropped her hands. “I believe I know what you’re trying to say,” she said in a cold voice. “And I’m disappointed in you.”



“I’m sorry,” Barbie mumbled. But the image of her mother with this man refused to take shape in her mind.



Her mother motioned toward her. “It’s your turn.”



“But…”



“Tell me what the problem is with this Mark. Why you didn’t want to say anything. Is he too old? Too young? Some kind of addict?”



“None of those.” Like her mother, she squared her shoulders and expelled her secret in a single breath. “He’s paralyzed from the waist down.”



Lillie closed her eyes briefly. “Oh, Barbie.”



It was just as she’d expected. Annoyed, she slid off the stool. “I knew it! I should’ve realized you’d react like this. I wish I hadn’t said anything.” Her annoyance turned to disillusionment and then just as quickly to pain. “You’re the one person in the world I trust to understand me and all you can say is Oh, Barbie?”



“You weren’t exactly a great encouragement to me, either,” Lillie muttered.



“Oh, please. A mechanic? You want to ask a mechanic out for a date and you expect me to cheer?” All the frustration and anger of the evening burst from her. She stood with her hands knotted into fists at her sides. “You didn’t tell Jacqueline who this man is, did you? What’s the appeal? Do you think he’ll be good in bed? Is that it?” Her own words shocked her, but not nearly as much as they did her mother.



Lillie stood frozen, her eyes wide with horror. Then she did something she’d never done in her whole life.



She slapped her.



Stunned into silence, Barbie pressed her hand to her cheek. Tears sprang to her eyes.



When her mother spoke, her voice shook with fury. “At least Hector could take me to bed.”



Barbie gasped at the implication, grabbed her purse and shot out of the house. Over the years they’d quarreled—every mother and daughter did—but never anything like this.



A sick feeling engulfed her as she drove to her own house, less than two miles away. Pulling into the garage, she sat in her car and hid her face in both hands. The urge to break into heaving sobs of rage and pain and regret nearly overwhelmed her. But she refused to give in to the swell of grief, refused to allow the ugliness that had come between them to disintegrate her emotions any further.



Barbie didn’t sleep that night or the next.



Nor did she speak to her mother. Ten times at least she reached for the phone. Normally they spoke every day, often more than once. Now the silence was like a vast emptiness.



As far as Barbie was concerned, her mother owed her an apology. Lillie had struck her—her own daughter.