Page 11 of A Tinsel Tale
“It was good to see her.”
“I’m sure Bill Parker is relieved to have her back. A little bird told me you spend quite a bit of time with him.” This woman missed her calling. She should be working for TMZ.
“I help out when I can. He won’t need me as much after he heals from his surgery.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. None of us are getting any younger. You’re a good boy, Jamie.”
Mom’s neighbor to the south of us pipes in, “Is your mom ill?”
“No, she had to take care of something.”My love life. “She’ll be right back,” I say.
“Evie looked upset when she peeled out,” she tsks. “Poor dear. Home for Christmas without Ginny here must be hard.” I tamp down my guilt for not being more welcoming to Evie. I can do better. Iwilldo better.
“I’m sure it’s hard. Ginny Parker was the best,” I say.
“I know you’re like part of the family. You and Evie being so close and all.” She pats my hand. “You were so cute together. We all thought you two were meant to be.” She shakes her head. “It’s a shame.”
I clear my throat. “Can I help you find anything, ladies?”
“We’re going to browse. I ordered a pie, but I want to shop first. Then we’re going to sit down and have a slice before we go, aren’t we girls?”
Thank God my mom finally reappears. I shoot her the stink eye and she smiles innocently, then greets the granny squad. I grab Henry and use him as a shield backing out of the shop. “Bye now,” I call cheerfully. They’re already huddled no doubt talking about the fact that Evie and I were here alone. Small towns do have their drawbacks.
“Let’s see if we can get into some good trouble before you take your nap,” I say to Henry.
He stiffens in my arms. “No nap.”
“Not yet buddy. Let’s go to the barn and round up Huxley,” I say putting him down. He immediately waddle runs towards the barn screaming, “Huxie!”
I smile. Evie and I used to talk about having a half-dozen kids. Now that I have a realistic idea of what parenting entails, I’d be happy with two. But I’m lucky that I have nieces and nephews to love all over.
We play around with the goats and the cows for a bit then I carry Henry up to the house to put him down for a nap. I gotta admit, when he puts his thumb in his mouth and looks up at me with his heavy-lidded eyes, so much like mine, I’m mush. I love this kid. He smiles sleepily around his thumb, and I lean down and kiss his forehead. “Dude, you’re killing me.”
“Dude,” he says smiling around a mouthful of thumb.
I change his pull-ups and put on his jammies then stick him in a crib in the spare room. “Okay little man, your pick.” I hold up stuffed animals one by one as he rejects them all, until I get to the purple elephant. His little fingers open and close as he reaches for it.
He removes his thumb long enough to say, “Dat.”
“Excellent choice, my man. This was my favorite when I was a little kid.” Henry hooks his arm around the plush toy and squeezes it tight. I brush back his coppery hair and feel an ache in my chest. “See you on the other side, kiddo.” He’s already half asleep as I turn and leave the room. I keep the door ajar so I can hear him if he stirs, then head to the living room to take a snooze myself.
7
EVIE
Itake my time driving home. I dodged a bullet when I left the Barrington’s shop. When I spotted six pairs of gawking eyes, I practically sprinted to my car. I got out of there as fast as I could without spitting gravel, smiling at what was about to descend on Jamie Barrington.
When I get home, I sit in my car for a few minutes enjoying the lake view and the smell of horses. I’m in no rush and it’s a strange feeling. My body and mind haven’t quite caught up with the fact that the pressure is off. Nowhere I have to be. Nothing urgent pulling me in a million different directions.
It’s almost as if I can feel my stress dropping away like leaves in the fall. Will it render me bare and exposed like the trees? Who am I without my busyness… my career? I guess I have six weeks to find out. Kind of daunting. I can’t even remember the last time I took more than a long weekend off. Not even after my mom’s funeral. I would have lost my mind if I hadn’t buried myself in work.Poor Dad. There’s that niggling guilt again. Am I a selfish person? Jamie seems to think so. He’s probably right.
I get out slowly and stretch. “Well, Mom, I’m finally back home. I’m sorry I haven’t taken better care of Dad. I’ll do better. I promise.” A sudden cold breeze picks up some fallen leaves and they swirl around me like tiny dancing angels. It feels like a sign, and I’m comforted. Dad says he talks to Mom all the time. I never have until now. I’ve got to admit, it makes her seem close. I think I needed the breathing room of time. There’s no way I could have handled this much space for all these thoughts and feelings before now. Now there is room to grieve and acknowledge all I’ve lost. It’s not the raw unbearable grief I felt in the beginning but rather the gentler, deeper pain of acceptance.
My Dad’s voice calling my name breaks through my reverie. I wave my arm. “Hey Dad.” I grab the pies and my packages and head to the house.
“How was your outing?” Dad asks a few minutes later as he hands me a mug of hot cocoa. I’m happily snuggling on the couch, warming my hands and feet in front of the fireplace. The dogs are curled up on their beds snoozing.
I take a sip and the rich creamy chocolate pleases my tongue and warms my throat going down. I pause, closing my eyes savoring the chocolatey bliss. “Mm, this tastes so good. It was fine. I ran into a posse of senior investigative journalists on my way out of the Barrington’s shop.”