Laura found her place on the page. “Okay, here we go. ‘All’s I need is a simple man. I thought I needed a man like you. But your promises are just as empty as that fancy suit you wear. ’”
Laura read on, but Marlene stopped paying attention. Those words had stuck in her craw.
She thought about her own situation—had she been wasting time on the wrong things? Had she been chasing men in suits with their meaningless boats and convertibles, when what she really needed was a man whose humble exterior held a heart filled with love?
If she were being honest, she’d always suspected there was more. She’d had a husband who was successful. She’d had a nice house. Shopping jaunts to Reno and a new designer coat every September. She’d devoted her life to standing by her man. But what had it gotten her?
She had her children, of course. And she’d do it all over again to have those four wonderful boys she’d raised into good and caring men. The love she held for them was fierce.
But what of her feelings for her ex-husband? After he took off, she’d begun to doubt herself. She often felt angry at being left holding the bag. But had she ever genuinely missed him?
Marlene looked at the three Kidd women and noted with a pang how her mother hadn’t eaten, hadn’t even moved. She just sat, not even looking out the window, with that same blankness in her eyes. Life marched on. One day these women would have passed and then Marlene would…what?
Everyone spoke at once, startling Marlene, and she tuned back in.
“You have to finish,” Sorrow was demanding.
“‘The only things…the things…’” Laura shook her head. “It’s no good. I can’t do it. This crazy handwriting is killing me. ”
Pearl held out a quaking hand. “Let me see it, dear. ” She slowly donned her glasses, kept on a beaded chain around her neck, and concentrated on the letter. After a silent moment, her face lit with understanding. “Ah! It says, ‘The only things you regret in this life are the risks you don’t take. ’”
Marlene felt herself pale. It was as though Sorrow Crabtree had reached across the generations to deliver this message just to her.
Her life was all about roads not taken. She’d spent her life caring for other people, first her husband, then her sons, and now her aunts and mother. Hers had always been the responsible choices—the sorts of choices where she’d had no choice. Her life had held no room for risk.
Sorrow’s hand was warm on her suddenly chilled shoulder. “You okay, Marlene?”
“I’m fine. ” Pasting a smile on her face, she said, “Let’s keep reading. We’ve been looking forward to it. ” She cut her eyes back to her mother. Maybe Ma was in there somewhere to enjoy it, too.
Her mother’s life had been all risk. Leaving home, meeting a man, and returning heavy with child. Why had Marlene never asked her more about it? Asked her mother the hard questions. Ma sat there, across the room, empty as the prettiest of seashells, the one woman Marlene wished more than anything could give her wisdom.
Folks thought just because a family member was still alive meant there was no cause for grief. But Marlene knew different—Marlene grieved her living mother every day.
Twenty-eight
Sorrow’s cell buzzed, and she had to juggle a lid, a ladle, layers of apron, and the rag she had tucked at her waist to reach it. It was worth it, seeing who the caller was.
“Billy, hey. ” She didn’t even try to mask the relief in her voice. “You coming by soon? It’s Ladies’ Night,” she added in a teasing voice. Tuesday was her night to cook at the tavern, and her dad had dubbed the evening with the silliest name imaginable. But she was heeding Billy’s advice and taking her opportunities where she could get them.
“That’s why I’m calling. ”
His somber voice alerted her at once. “What is it?”
“I’ve got to work a double shift,” he said. “Marshall was hit with the flu—the guy looks like hell. ”
“How much crime can there be in Sierra Falls? Can’t you just let people speed for one night?”
His laugh was gentle. “You know I can’t. But I’ll be thinking of you. Wish I were there to help. ”
“I wish you were, too—I’m using a Dutch oven that, I swear, weighs about a thousand pounds. ”
“What did you end up making? The chicken or the pork loin?”
“Chicken. Coq au Vin to be exact. ” Her sauce needed thickening, and she was stirring madly. “If I can get my roux to cooperate. It’s broken twice already. ”
“Damned roux,” he said in a perfect deadpan.
She laughed. She missed him. They’d had a few kisses, and already she couldn’t wait for more. “I miss you. ” The words had slipped out, and she instantly knew a twinge of regret. They’d kissed, but she didn’t know how he really felt. She suspected he was dealing with a lot of emotional baggage, and she needed to play it cool.