The Mill River Redemption (19 page)

As Rose neared the top of the stairs, she heard slow, steady breathing coming from Alex’s open door. She nudged the door farther open and peeked inside. The light in his tidy room emanated from a small lamp on his nightstand. Alex was on his bed, sound asleep. He was wearing his pajamas, but he was stretched out on top of his covers. An open book was smashed between his cheek and his pillow, and his thick glasses were pushed up crookedly over one side of his face. Rose did her best to tiptoe quietly across the room to examine the laptop on the desk.

She touched the keyboard to end the screensaver, and an Excel spreadsheet appeared on the screen. Alex appeared to be making good headway with the list. She saw columns for the titles, as well as for plot summaries, and spaces to indicate whether she or her sister had read the title. Many of the plot summary slots had been filled. In fact, she was surprised that Alex had already read so many of the titles he’d listed.

Rose felt a sudden wave of pride and triumph. Emily was an
idiot
. Trusting Alex to compile the list had been perfectly reasonable. With a smug smile, she turned around and looked again at her sleeping son, but after a moment, her smile disappeared and was replaced by a calm, wistful gaze.

No matter how grown-up he acted when he was awake, no
matter the wise-beyond-his-years expressions he so often wore or the ways he demonstrated his powerful intellect, sleep always revealed how young and innocent Alex was. Many times, she had reminded herself that he was only nine, but tonight, as she looked down upon him in his slumber, she smiled with wonder that he was
already
nine. Where had the time gone? It seemed that only a few days ago, she was cradling him as a tiny infant, kissing the wrinkled, velvety skin of his newborn forehead, marveling at how quickly he had become the one bright star in her life.

As quietly as she could, Rose left Alex’s room and retrieved a blanket from her own bedroom across the hall. Once she returned, she carefully, gently pulled the open book from beneath his cheek, removed his glasses, and placed them both on his nightstand. He stirred a bit, turning his head slightly as if he were relieved to finally feel the soft pillow against his face. Rose unfolded the blanket and spread it over Alex. She watched him for another moment, reaching down to smooth his soft blond hair before turning off his lamp.

Back downstairs, Rose made her way into the kitchen. She couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten, and she felt slightly panicked as she wondered what Alex had been doing for meals. The refrigerator contained a six-pack of beer, a half-gallon of milk, a few slices of pizza, and a nearly empty jar of peanut butter. The pantry wasn’t much better, and there wasn’t a stitch of fresh produce anywhere. She hadn’t been to the supermarket since a few days after they’d arrived. When she saw an empty cereal box and several empty soup cans in the trash, Emily’s words crept back into her mind.
“You’re an ugly drunk and a poor excuse for a mother.”
She felt a wave of guilt and the truth in her sister’s insult reverberate in the pit of her growling stomach.

She’s an idiot
, Rose reminded herself, and another flash of rage shot through her. With her eyes squeezed shut, she resolved not to
waste any more time or energy thinking about Emily. Instead, she heated up a piece of the leftover pizza and grabbed a few beers from the fridge. It was already after ten o’clock, so she couldn’t go shopping right now, but she would make a grocery list and head out first thing in the morning. Better yet, she’d take Alex out for breakfast beforehand, and then they could go stock up on things together. After all the time he spent up in his room, the poor kid probably needed some fresh air.

She opened a beer and thought about where they might go. In her neighborhood on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, anything from a fresh, hot bagel to a fancy omelet with gourmet coffee was readily available. Here in Mill River, it was very different. It had been a long time since she’d been to Ruth Fitzgerald’s bakery-café, but she remembered that it was a decent place to have breakfast. Hell, it was probably the
only
place in town to have breakfast.

Rose was surprised how much better she felt with some food in her stomach. The cold beer helped, too, and for a minute after she finished eating, she sat with her elbows on the table and her chin resting in her hands. She wondered what Sheldon was doing. They hadn’t spoken in three days, and their last conversation had ended on a sour note. Was he even temping? Or was he sitting at home in their gorgeous apartment, moping around until she secured her inheritance and their financial future?

Rose opened the second beer and took a long swig. As much as she wanted to leave Mill River, to get away from her sister and the prying eyes of the locals, she didn’t look forward to facing her dejected, unemployed husband and precarious personal finances back in New York. So much about her life was such a mess.

“You’re a poor excuse for a mother.”
The words kept ringing in her ears, even though she was doing her best to forget them. Emily really didn’t know anything about Alex. She’d never seen what Rose and Sheldon had invested in his care. He’d had the best
schools, the best nannies, and the best healthcare his entire life. He wanted for nothing, other than the latest game console that all his friends had. She and Sheldon didn’t approve of videogames. They were proud that books were still their son’s most prized possessions.

Alex went to marine biology summer camp and routinely sang solos in the school choir. His achievement-test scores were off the charts. Yes, he was a gifted child, partly because of his own innate intellect, but partly because she and Sheldon had recognized and nurtured his brilliance.
I’m not a bad mother
.

And yet … Rose turned to look at the beer bottles on the table. They were evidence of the truth in her sister’s words. When she began to cry, she realized that she had let Emily get to her. Angrily, she wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. Sheldon was right. She would have to lay off the booze, and she’d do it just to prove her sister wrong. She was not about to give Emily any reason to further criticize her parenting or, even worse, start spewing lies to Ivy and the rest of the town.

Despite her efforts to squelch it, the ugly anger that was fueled by her sister’s comment continued to spread through her. Tonight, she’d teach Emily a lesson. Rose pulled open a drawer and pawed through the utensils until she found a sturdy knife. After a defiant look at her unfinished second beer, she slipped out the front door.

Most of the homes along the street, like Emily’s, were dark and quiet. Unexpectedly, Rose was overcome by a strange sense of déjà vu. The sleeping houses, the gentle night breeze rustling the trees, the background hum of crickets and tree frogs, the delicious anticipation of the unknown … it was all unchanged from the Mill River of her youth. She felt like her teenaged self all over again, sneaking out into the night for reasons that were anything but good.

Rose stopped alongside her own car to make sure no one was
watching and then squatted down next to one of the front tires on Emily’s beat-up Subaru. The sight of the still-misshapen front bumper caused her fury to rise further, reinforcing her resolve, and she rammed the blade of the knife into the black rubber sidewall.

At first, she enjoyed the angry satisfaction of hearing the faint hiss of air escaping from the tire. She had acted in defense of her son and her own self-respect, after all. As she walked back to her house, she fought the urge to return to the tire, to stab the tough rubber again and again to release years of hurt and hostility. At the same time, though, it troubled her to envision how the air inside the tire was disappearing into the darkness, invisible and lost forever.

1986

I
T WAS WELL AFTER NINE O
’
CLOCK ON A
F
RIDAY EVENING
in May when Josie finally began the short drive home to Mill River. She was grateful for the length of the late spring days because the evening sunlight made working long hours a bit more bearable.

Word had spread quickly after she’d sold the house bordering on the Rutland City Landfill. She’d been inundated with clients. Al had made sure to tell every customer who came to his dealership, and everyone else he knew, how she’d made the miracle sale for him. One man had bluntly told her that he “didn’t think it was possible that anyone could sell Al’s shithole,” before asking her to be the listing agent for his own home. Before she knew it, she had five new listings and had already sold three. She’d also closed deals on three more listings of Ned’s.

As she sped down the highway, she couldn’t help but laugh when she remembered Ned telling her how “a situation you might think is hopeless could lead to great things.” He’d been absolutely right, although in a way she was sure he hadn’t expected to be.

The trade-off was that the demands of her job had started to cut into her time with Rose and Emily. Ivy was a godsend for having offered to keep the girls with her at The Bookstop when she’d had to work, but Josie knew it was unreasonable to expect the arrangement
to continue long-term. She would have to find a few good babysitters soon.

Having to rely on anyone else to help take care of her girls made her feel so guilty, even if the caregiver was her dear aunt.
I’m their mother, and their only parent. I should be the one with them
. While she was at work, Josie reached for her locket often, comforted by the feel of her girls’ photos resting above her heart. The hard truth was that if she was to earn a living, there would be lots of times when she couldn’t be with her babies.

She stepped on the accelerator, determined to make it home before the girls were asleep. Once there, she followed the sound of voices into the kitchen. The heavy back door was open, and Josie paused before the screen door. Ivy and the girls were sitting three-across on the steps facing the yard. The air was crisp, and light from the full moon cast a glow over everything.

“You see, the North Star is the brightest star in the sky,” Ivy was saying as she pointed upward. “And, once you find the North Star, you can find the Little Dipper.”

“What’s a dipper?” Emily asked. Josie stifled a laugh to avoid calling attention to her presence for a moment longer.

“A dipper is a ladle, or a scoop with a handle,” Ivy said, chuckling. “The Little Dipper is a group of stars—a constellation—that makes the shape of a dipper in the sky.” Her aunt pointed again and motioned with her hand. “If you look carefully, you can see a line of stars with the North Star on the end. That’s the handle part. At the other end, three more stars make a little rectangle. That’s the scoop part. Together, they make up the Little Dipper.”

“I see it!” Rose yelled as she jumped off the steps and into the grass. “I see it, Aunt Ivy!”

“Where?” Emily asked. She went to stand beside her sister as she turned slowly and continued to squint upward. “Where? I don’t see the dipper.”

Rose put her arm around Emily’s shoulders and directed her
sister’s gaze. “Look right there, Em. The stars are like dots. You have to pretend you’re connecting them together.” Silently, Josie watched her girls standing together, their upturned faces illuminated by moonlight and filled with wonder.

“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight,” she finally said quietly. At the sound of her voice, both girls startled and looked toward the door.

“Mom! Aunt Ivy’s showing us
con-stel-la-tions
!” Rose said, taking care in pronouncing the big new word she had learned. She pointed proudly. “Look, there’s the Little Dipper!”

“Yes, I see it,” Josie said as she stepped outside.

“
I
can’t see it,” Emily complained. “I want to see the dipper, Mom.”

“Sometimes it takes practice to spot it,” she said to Emily. “We can look again another night. Right now, it’s late, and you girls need to be going to bed.”

“They begged to wait up for you, so I let ’em stay up a few minutes more, as a treat,” Ivy said. “Figured I’d teach them something in the meantime.”

Josie smiled and nodded. “Girls, go on upstairs. I’ll be up in just a minute.” As Rose and Emily pushed past her into the house, she bent down to speak in Ivy’s ear. “I’ve got something exciting to tell you, but I just want to say good night first.” Before Ivy could say anything, she hurried inside.

The second floor was dark, although the small lamp in the girls’ room glowed weakly through their open door. She paused at the top of the stairs, listening to them talk as they climbed into bed.

“Maybe we can go to the playground tomorrow,” Emily said.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” Rose said. “Mom’ll probably have to work. She always has to take people to see houses on the weekends.”

Josie felt a surge of guilt rise up through her exhaustion from
working a week of twelve-hour days, and she nearly started to cry. Instead, she bit down hard on her lower lip and went into the room.

“Mommy, we wanted to stay awake until you got home,” Rose explained in her most authoritative seven-year-old voice. “Aunt Ivy said we could. Are you mad?”

“No, honey. Even though it’s way past your bedtime, I’m glad I got a chance to say good night. What did you girls do with Aunt Ivy today? Before the stars, I mean.”

“We had fun,” Emily said. “We got to help her unpack the new books for kids.”

“And she taught me how to make change with real money,” Rose added.

“That’s great,” Josie said. “I don’t have to work tomorrow morning. How would you girls like to go to the playground and then out to lunch on the way home?”

“Can we?” Emily screamed, clapping her hands.

“I want to get a Happy Meal!” Rose said as she bounced in her bed.

“All right,” Josie said, laughing. She grabbed one of her girls in each arm and kissed them on their foreheads in turn. “Now, go to sleep so you’re not tired tomorrow!” Josie tucked Emily and Rose back under their covers and kissed them both again before leaving their room.

When Josie came back downstairs, Ivy was fidgeting on the sofa. “Kid, if it had been for any reason other than to see the girls, I’d have scolded you for dropping that hint on me and leaving,” she said. “You know better than to tease me like that.”