Heart Like Mine (34 page)

Max nodded and began a labored walk to the den while I went into the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the freezer and the white bandage tape from the first aid kit in the cupboard. The roasted chicken I’d bought was getting cold, but I couldn’t think straight enough to worry about dinner. I didn’t want to see the look on Victor’s face when I told him that not only had his daughter cut class, she was stealing from me and had violently attacked her brother.

“Grace?” Max called out. “Are you coming?”

I pulled out the first aid kit from the cupboard by the sink and took a deep breath before answering. “I’ll be right there,” I said, and, though I hated to admit it, fought the quiet urge to run away.

*  *  *

Ava didn’t emerge from her bedroom for the rest of the night. I thought about going to talk with her, but I was too angry and I knew whatever I said would only make the situation worse. After I gently wrapped up Max’s finger, put ice on it, and gave him a dose of children’s ibuprofen for the pain, I fed him some dinner and read him several chapters of
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone
until he began nodding off on the couch. I carried him to his bed, breathing in the nutty scent of his skin—he never did take a
shower—his arms wrapped around my neck and his cheek resting against my chest, remembering doing this with Sam. “Night, Mama,” Max mumbled as I tucked the covers around him, making sure he had Kelli’s blue blanket tucked up around his chin.

The muscles in my chest clenched hearing him call me that name, and I knew he was already asleep, halfway between reality and dreamland, a place where his mother might still have been alive for him. Sam had called me “Mama” a few times when I took care of him, and I made sure to clarify that I was Sissy, not his mother. I didn’t know what I was to Max and Ava. There was no label for the role I played in their lives. I was simply Grace, the woman standing where their mother should rightfully have been.

I turned off the overhead light in Max’s room and shut the door behind me. There was still a sliver of light coming from beneath Ava’s door, but it was quiet, and I wondered if she had cried herself to sleep. Knowing it would likely be better if I left her alone, I still couldn’t stop myself from gently tapping on her door and listening for a response. When there wasn’t one, I inched it open, cringing as the hinges squeaked. My eyes traveled the room, and there was Ava, curled up on her bed, her mother’s red sweater wrapped tightly around her, enveloping her like a chrysalis. I wondered what kind of transformation was taking place inside her, how she would survive this astoundingly painful loss. I took in her deep, even breaths, and while I was still angry, I felt an enormous swell of compassion. Afraid I might wake her, I silently left the room, turning the light off behind me.

*  *  *

Victor was surprised to see me awake when he came home. I sat on the couch in the den, waiting for him, thinking it was the furthest point away from the kids’ rooms, knowing that however
this talk went, it wasn’t going to be quiet. “Hey, baby,” he said. He strode over and leaned down to give me a quick kiss.

I reached up and pulled him down next to me. I took a deep breath, wanting to find a way to reconnect with him before hitting him with our conversation. “How was work?”

He gave me a tired smile and I noticed that the crinkles around his eyes seemed to have grown deeper over the past couple of weeks. “It was good. We had over a hundred and fifty tables move through for dinner, and all of them bought a ton of wine.”

I’d learned enough about the restaurant business in the last year to know that beverages—wine and cocktails, especially—were where the biggest profit margin lay, typically 80 percent, so this was good news, considering the recent struggle Victor had been facing with the Loft’s sales. I whistled, a low sound. “Impressive. Anyone throwing drinks at pain-in-the-ass jocks?”

He chuckled. “No, baby. You’re still one of a kind.” He put his arm around me and I cuddled into him, relishing the heat off his body and breathing in his scent, which, tonight, was a comforting mix of onion, garlic, and slightly musky male sweat. I rested my head on his chest and listened to the slow thumping rhythm of his heart, letting it soothe me. Just the sheer act of making physical contact with Victor brought me a peace I hadn’t felt all week.

“I’ve missed you,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant.”

He dropped a kiss on the top of my head. “I’ve missed you, too. I wasn’t really sure what was going on, but it seemed like you needed some space. So I gave it to you.”

I sighed and decided to ease into the topic. “I think I’m just learning how to do this stepparenting thing. I know you said I’m your partner and not the kids’ parent, but the truth is, with you gone so much, I have to be.”

“I know you do. And I appreciate it more than you realize.”
He paused and pulled out of our embrace. “But it won’t be forever, Grace. Spencer will be back full-time and we can find a better way to manage things.”

“I know,” I said, taking another deep breath, well aware that I needed to forge ahead with the conversation about the issues we were having even though it would be easier not to. It would be easier to reminisce about how we were at the beginning of our romance, how he cooked for me, how we could talk for hours or spend an entire Sunday in bed. The memories would warm us from the inside out, our hands would begin to wander, Victor would kiss me, and everything would be right with our world again. But I knew that reality would set back in, and the problems that loomed heavy above us would still be there, needing to be discussed. Better to get it over with now. “But can we still talk a minute?” I asked.

He squinted. “About?”

“The kids,” I said. “I just don’t want to feel like some ignorant babysitter who can’t handle things that come up when I’m with them.” I paused, fearful to continue but knowing I had to. “Like the other night, when Max broke the Wii? You didn’t even stop to hear my side of things. You just took Ava at her word, and she was lying to you.”

I felt him immediately tense and pull away. I sat up and looked at him with what I hoped he knew was love. His expression suddenly turned hard, his lips drawn into a firm, straight line. Anger flashed in his gray eyes. “Did you just call my daughter a liar?”

“No,” I said, drawing the word out slowly. “I said she lied
to
you—once.”

“I don’t see the difference.” He shifted away, scooting to the other corner of the couch and folding his arms across his chest.

There was a sudden, cold ache in my belly, followed by a warm flash of rage in my chest. I didn’t want to fight with Victor. I didn’t want to make things worse but decided there was no point to stopping now. “I also got a call from the school today,” I said, telling him about Ava skipping class and then the money I found in her gym bag.

“There has to be some kind of explanation,” Victor said after I’d finished talking. He slowly shook his head. “Maybe she skipped class—all kids do that at one time or another—but there’s no
way
she stole from you.”

“Max saw her taking money from my purse this morning,” I said quietly. I reached out and squeezed his hand, but he yanked it away. A shadow passed over his face and I knew we had entered dangerous territory.

“Max is
always
trying to get his sister in trouble. They try to get
each other
in trouble, for god’s sake. It’s the way things are with siblings. We have to take it with a grain of salt, or they’re going to pit us against each other and totally manipulate things. You have to be smarter than that.”

I tried not to respond to the subtle but definitive shift he’d made from “we” to “you,” indicating that it was me being stupid. Blatantly separating us. “I realize they tattle, but tonight was different. Ava lunged at Max and almost broke his finger. She attacked him, Victor. I’m worried about her.”

He gave me a hard stare. “Brothers and sisters fight, Grace. I know you were older than Sam so maybe you didn’t, but it’s totally normal.”

“Stealing is not normal.” I paused. “I was talking with Melody about it—”

“Wait,” Victor interrupted. “You told Melody about this?”

“Yes. I needed someone to talk to. You were at work.”

He threw his hands into the air and stood up, taking a couple of steps away from the couch. “Great! She’ll tell Spencer and he’ll want to talk with me about something he never should have known about. Thanks a lot.”

I took a deep breath, knowing that Victor was on the defensive and not wanting to anger him further, but getting Ava the help she needed was more important than how things ended up between her father and me. “She’s acting out,” I said. “And stealing could just be the beginning.”

“What are you saying? That she’s going to turn into some kind of delinquent? Her
mother
just died. You need to cut her a little slack.”

I stared at him a moment, trying to steady my rattling pulse. “I cut her
plenty
of slack. When she rolls her eyes at me or talks down to me, I let it slide. She’s upset, I get that. She’s in pain, and she’s obviously not managing it well. She also knows we’re engaged. Did you tell her?”

“Of course not. Did you?”

“
No
.” I paused. “Maybe Kelli did. Or Diane.”

“She hasn’t
seen
Diane.”

I thought about telling him then about my trip to Kelli’s house with Ava. Maybe she’d gone back there without our knowing. Maybe, as Melody and I had, she’d run into Diane, who’d assumed we’d already told the kids. I opened my mouth to confess all, to tell him everything, but the cold, hard look on his face stopped me. “However she found out doesn’t matter,” I said instead. “I’m worried about her. Maybe we need to get her into counseling.”

“Suddenly you’re the parenting expert around here?” The disdain in his words was clear.

“I’ve spent more time at it than you,” I shot back, and immediately
wished I’d kept my mouth shut. It was a low blow, and I knew it. He worried about how little time he’d spent with the kids when he was still married to Kelli, and now how overwhelmed he felt having them with us full-time. But that didn’t change the truth—that with the ten years I spent taking care of Sam, it was likely I was the more experienced of us two.

Victor’s face closed up, his eyes a hard wall as he looked at me. “Look. I’m tired. You’re tired. We’re going to end up saying things we don’t mean. You’re choosing a bad time to talk about this.”

“There
is
no other time, Victor! We never
see
each other.”

“Jesus!” he said, reaching up to rake his fingers through his hair. “Can you quit complaining about things for five minutes, please? I know things are rough. I know this isn’t the life you expected! Okay? I get it. But if we’re going to stay together, we have to learn how to find our way through hard times, too. And accusing my daughter of being a thief isn’t helping anything.”

I stared at him, my eyes filling with tears. I tried to tell myself all of this was only temporary, like a television station announcing it was having technical difficulties. Our regularly scheduled program—or, in this case, our previously scheduled life—would eventually resume. But it seemed there was no use in trying to get him to understand. He was going to protect Ava no matter what.

Seeing my tears, his expression softened. “I’m sorry.” He took a step toward me and reached out his hand, but I moved so he couldn’t touch me. He sighed, then dropped back down to the couch. “I didn’t mean to snap at you,” he said. “I’m just so exhausted. I love the kids so much, but I’ve never really done the full-time father thing before. Kelli always took care of them.”

“I know,” I said quietly. “I get that this is all hard for you, too.”

“It is,” he said. “I was used to the schedule we had, you
know?” He shook his head. “God, it makes me sound like such a horrible person, but after I finally left Kelli, I was relieved to get my life back. She sucked so much out of me. I didn’t realize how much until I was gone.”

“You’re not a horrible person,” I said.

“Thanks, but it feels like I am.” He gave me a weak smile. “Honestly, honey, I thought handling their fight without you was better, so you wouldn’t have to bother with it. I guess I was trying to shield you from the stress out of pure habit, the way I always had to shield Kelli. I didn’t give you enough credit, but that was about me, not you.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to find my way through this. And I’m scared . . .” He trailed off, dropping his gaze to his lap.

“Of what?” I asked him, feeling my hurt ease as he expressed his vulnerability. He was just as afraid as I was. Unsure of himself as a father, worried how to handle bringing me into his children’s lives.

He chuckled softly, still not looking at me. “More like what am I
not
scared of,” he said. “I’m scared I’m not a good enough father for Max and Ava. I’m scared I’m like my
own
father—that somehow having his blood run through my veins might make me too weak to help my children through their pain.” He finally raised his eyes and met my own. “But that’s scared me for years. What scares me now is that I might lose you. That you might give up on me and having this life together. That I’m too screwed up for any woman to want to be with at all.” He whispered that last sentence, as though admitting it to himself for the first time. It struck me then how similar Victor’s insecurities were to mine.

“Kelli loved me,” Victor continued. “But it was in such a needy way, you know? I always felt like I wasn’t enough for her, no matter what I did, no matter how much I took care of her. And
then
you
came along, so independent, and I thought,
Wow. Here’s a woman who can be my partner. We can take care of each
other. But now I’m messing that all up, too.”

“You’re not messing anything up.” I felt how much he cared for me, how much he needed someone to be there for him.

He hesitated a moment before leaning over and lowering his head into my lap. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I love you.”