Healing Stones (32 page)

“Who is this guy?”

I looked from her to Audrey.

“You're going to make a lot more sense than she is, and you obviously know, so go ahead.”

I couldn't tell what I was hearing in her voice—resentment, hurt feelings, out-and-out jealousy?

“He's the boy she's been dating,” I said. “Um—C.J., is it, Audrey?”

She nodded.

“She thought she loved him—that he loved her.”

“So she slept with him, without protection, and now she's pregnant.” Mickey lifted Audrey's chin again. “Is that the story?”

“We did use protection!” she said.

“Oh—so it was an ‘accident.'” Mickey lightly touched the end of Audrey's nose. “And a pretty stupid one, if you ask me.”

I could feel my chin drop. She was kidding, right? But even if she was—at a time like this?

“I know, Mom,” Audrey managed to say. “I'm so sorry.”

Her knees gave. She seemed headed for the floor, and Oscar came in from behind and caught her under the arms. When he got her to her feet, her face was momentarily lost in his belly.

No one spoke for a few never-ending minutes. My instinct was to run downstairs and pull my long-legged Jayne onto my lap and rock her. And yet I had a hard time even moving toward the door.

Finally Mickey motioned Audrey into a chair at the kitchen table and sat down across from her. “So what does this C.J. say?”

“He says the baby isn't his.” Audrey's voice was hoarse.

“Is it?” Mickey said.

“Mick!” Oscar said.

I could have hugged him.

“It couldn't be anybody else's,” Audrey said. “I'm not some tramp, Mom.”

“So that means he isn't going to give you any help,” Mickey said.

Audrey nodded.

“Which is where we come in.”

“I don't know,” Audrey said.

“Well, don't be ridiculous. Whatever you decide to do, you're going to need us.”

“I haven't thought about what to do.”

“When were you going to go ahead and do that, Audrey?”

“She just found out twelve hours ago,” someone said.

All eyes found me. Audrey's were pleading. Oscar's were still befuddled. Mickey's told me I'd said enough.

“Listen,” I said, “I think this is a family thing. I should probably go.”

I turned toward the door.

“Well, thanks, Demi,” Mickey said. “I don't know when or if she ever would have told us if it weren't for you.”

I turned to look at her, but her gaze was fixed on Audrey, eyes firm.

“Audrey?” I said. “Are you going to be okay?”

“She'll be fine,” Mickey said.

And yet still I added as I opened the door, “Call me if you need me, Audrey.”

A chill followed me out.

Jayne was curled up, wide-eyed, on the window seat when I got downstairs. I filled her in, and she nodded sagely.

“I guess her mom didn't talk to her about boys and getting pregnant,” she said.

I didn't have an answer for that. I just didn't understand Mickey's reaction.

I was still trying to sort it out the next morning when, after a night of not-quite-sleep, I took a bag of garbage out to the compost heap, stepping carefully over Mickey's newly planted rows of peas and spinach and lettuce seedlings.

“I'm going to go ahead and say this.”

I whipped around, dumping cucumber peelings short of the pile. Mickey was baggy-eyed and, if I weren't mistaken, a little sheepish.

“Hey, Mick,” I said. “Are you hanging in there?”

“You do what you have to do, right?” She shoved her hands into the pockets of a pair of bedraggled cargo pants. “Look, I appreciate you being there for Audrey. The thing is, we can handle it from here.”

I searched her face for a trace of the wise gnome who had virtually saved my life, but I could see only fatigue in the sun-ray lines at the corners of her eyes.

“How is Audrey?” I said.

“She'll live. After we finished with the drama, she finally got down to considering her options.”

Even as I opened my mouth, I knew I was about to kick my own prop out from under me.

“What about her emotional state, Mickey?” I said. “She's only six weeks pregnant—she has time to look at what she wants to do. I'm more concerned about how she's going to handle it.”

“That kind of concern isn't going to fix this problem.” Mickey's hand came out of her pocket and chopped the air haphazardly. “Besides, she isn't the one handling it. That falls to Oscar and me.” She looked hard at me. “You saw for yourself how she handles things.”

“I don't get it,” I said.

“That's because you didn't raise her.”

“Audrey I get. It's you I don't understand.”

In the pause, Mickey's mouth wanted to melt, and moisture lined up along her lower lids. But she pulled up whatever she selected to hold herself together and turned to plaster. “What's not to understand?” she said.

“You have shown me nothing but grace and acceptance ever since you met me,” I said. “And as far as I'm concerned, what I've done is a whole lot worse than the mistake Audrey's made. I was just surprised you weren't more—loving, I guess.”

“If I give her a hug and tell her it's okay, what does she learn?” Mickey shook her head. “I can cut you slack because I'm not responsible for how you turn out.”

“How do you expect her to turn out if you treat her like she's committed a crime? She's already hard enough on herself.”

“Not hard enough, obviously.” Her consonants were hard. “Look—if you think treating Audrey like a victim is what she needs, then I wish you'd go ahead and stay away from her.”

I stared at her. “You were the one who wanted me to be there for her in the first place!”

“I didn't know she was doing it with some guy she barely knew.” Mickey stopped and looked as if she'd been poked. “Did you know about it? Did you know she was sleeping with him?”

I swallowed. “Whatever Audrey and I talked about was between us.”

“I'll take that as a yes.” She took a step back. “Like I said, we've got this handled. Thanks.”

“Mickey, come on—you're upset.”

“No, but you're about to see me upset.”

“Mick!” Oscar stalked toward us with his palm up—as if that were going to quiet his wife, who was just warming up as far as I could tell.

Mickey's eyes were still on me. “I appreciate what you've done, but I think I know Audrey better than anybody. Just let us handle it.” She planted both hands on her negligible hips. “Do you get me now?”

I got this woman, who bore no resemblance to the one who had put me back together. This woman was now in the business of taking her daughter apart, and then telling me to stand by and watch her do it.

And I couldn't.

“Where is Audrey now?” I said.

“Which part of this didn't you understand?”

“Is she here—or is she alone somewhere?”

“What is the
matter
with you?”

Mickey took a step toward me, but Oscar's big hand closed over her shoulder.

“Mick!” he said. “Back off.”

She lowered her arm and closed her eyes. “I'm losing it,” she said.

I had to agree.

“You're fine. Let's everybody go back to their corners and cool off.” Oscar looked at me. “Why don't you take today off? You look pretty rough.”

“She doesn't work on Saturdays.” Mickey was already in a turn toward the house. “Maybe she doesn't work at all.”

“What did I say about cooling off—before anybody says something they don't mean?”

She didn't answer him. He and I both stood examining the soil until she was gone.

“Did she just fire me?” I said.

“No. She just thinks she did.” Oscar smeared his entire puffy face with his hand and let it rest on the sausage rolls at the back of his neck.

“I wasn't expecting that.”

“It only happens when she's really stressed. She'll come back around.” He grimaced. “I hope you don't take off on us in the meantime. Come to work Monday, and the air'll be cleared.”

Did I not have enough yelling in my life right now? And enough lack of understanding? And enough unforgiving?

“Listen.” Oscar's eyes were as soft as the folds around them. “I appreciate all you've done for Audrey. Who knows what she would've pulled when she found this out if you hadn't been there for her? Mick knows that too.”

“Right.”

“It wouldn't bother me any if you kept seeing her—and Mickey might even let you do that once she calms down. But for now, to keep the peace . . .” Oscar bobbed his head again. “Maybe you should give Audrey a wide margin. She's not here anyway. She went back to the dorm last night.”

I felt my eyes widen. “You let her go be by herself after what she went through yesterday?”

“Mick felt like—”

“No, I can't let that poor girl go through this by herself. I just can't.”

“She won't. Mickey will be there—she just needs time.”

“Audrey doesn't have time.” I stomped past him. “She's at the dorm, you said?”

“Dem, I'm really begging you here—”

“And I'm really telling you no.”

I stopped behind him. He looked over his shoulder at me.

“You two can fire me, you can evict me, you can do whatever you want. But I refuse to abandon Audrey. Just so you know.”

Mickey was standing midway up the steps when I passed under them to get back to my apartment. She was still the different Mickey. And that was fine. Because now, I was the different Demi.

CHAPTER TWENTY - EIGHT

J
ayne was still asleep when I got back to the apartment, hair splayed across the pillow like filigreed gold, eyelashes kissing the tops of her cheeks. I crawled in beside her and listened to the soft, even breathing of a child safe and content. When she opened her eyes, she looked at me unsurprised, as if of course I would be lying there watching
her sleep.

“Do you have a plan?” she said.

I propped up on one elbow. “A plan?”

“You look like you have a plan.”

I pushed a curly tendril off her forehead with my finger. “I do. I'm just wondering if you want to do it with me.”

“Is it about Easter clothes?” she said.

“It is—and it's about Audrey.”

“Is she going shopping with us?”

“Do you want her to?”

“I like her,” Jayne said.

“All right.”

“What's the rest of the plan?”

“I wondered . . .”

I paused. This could be a mistake.

“Say it, Mom.”

I sucked in air. “I wondered how you would feel about Audrey moving in with us.”

“Are you going to treat her like another daughter?” Jayne said.

I studied her face. It was pensive, nothing more.

“I mean, I think you should.” She came up on an elbow to face me, as if we were two girlfriends waking up from a sleepover. “She

needs a better mom than the one she's got—the way Mrs. Gwynne was yelling at her last night.”

“You heard that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Who didn't? I think she needs you.”

My throat thickened. “You think that, Jay?”

“I
know
that. Mom, you understand. You don't expect a kid to be perfect.”

I sat up and kissed her on the forehead. “What do you say we go find Audrey?”

We moved her in that night, complete with an Easter outfit and a basket full of that obnoxious plastic grass that you find under the rug and in the corners of drawers until Halloween. She'd opted for a high-waisted, large-print dress, leggings, and Jolly Rancher jelly beans.

“I hope people don't think this is dorky,” she said as she held the dress up to herself in my kitchen. “I don't feel like being in a clingy sweater or something, you know?”

“Who cares what anybody else thinks?” I said. “They have no idea what you're dealing with.”

“I'm gonna model mine,” Jayne said.

She disappeared into the bedroom, and I enthroned Audrey on my window seat with cushions, afghan, and warm milk with nutmeg.

“It's been a big day,” I said. “Time for you to let down a little.”

“I feel like crying,” she said. “I'm sorry. You're doing so much for me.”

“Never be sorry for tears.” It caught in my throat—where I'd learned that from. Her own mother should be saying this to her.

“I don't feel as stupid today.” Audrey bunched the afghan up under her chin and let the tears trickle down into its holes. “You make me feel like the whole entire world isn't coming to an end.”

“You're not, and it's not.”

She looked deep into the afghan. “Is it okay that I miss C.J.? Even though he's treating me like crap?”

I closed my eyes. Zach Archer strutted past and didn't look back at me. “You can't help it,” I said. “It's one of the things you'll deal with.”

“If I can.”

“When you can.”

“Ta-da!”

Jayne made an entrance through the kitchen, spinning deftly around the chairs, the coffee table, and Audrey's duffle bag. Her three-tiered skirt swayed like a gypsy's.

“Okay, how fabulous is that?” Audrey said.

Jayne smiled pertly and looked at me. “You wanted me to pick the Jackie O. number.”

“I know, I know.”

The girls grinned at each other.

Tomorrow would probably bring an eviction notice, once Mickey found out what I was doing. But for now I sighed against the cushions and let them be girls, just girls, cooing over Jayne's beaded flip-flops.

I heard Mickey come downstairs early the next morning. I imagined her stopping to do a double take when she saw Audrey's car and steeled myself for a blowup.