Make a wish, p.22
Make a Wish, page 22
“Because I feel fucking guilty.” I look out the window, unable to meet his gaze.
“For moving back to Colorado Springs?”
“That’s one reason.”
Ian sighs. “Gavin, man, you can’t blame yourself for the rest of your life for what happened to Marcie. It’s not your fault.”
“If I’d listened when she said we needed to go to the hospital—” I choke on the words, unable to spit the rest of them out. The wound feels especially fresh considering the conversation I had with Harley on Friday.
Ian’s eyes grow sad. “She called Lynn that morning, while you were mowing the lawn, and Lynn told her it would be fine. That she didn’t need to go right away.”
“But I’m her husband.”
Ian stares at me, one brow arched.
“Was. I was her husband.”
“You gotta let go of the guilt, Gav, or you’re never going to be able to move on, and you’re going to keep letting Karen dictate your future.”
“She thinks Harley is too young for me.”
“She’ll find a reason for any woman you date not to be suitable. We already talked about Harley’s age, and the fact that your parents are more than a decade apart and have been married for nearly forty years, so we know that argument doesn’t hold a lot of water, unless you’re the one who has a problem with Harley’s age.”
“Someone thought she was the nanny at the school event on Friday.”
“And? Did she get upset about it?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
“No, I told the woman she was my girlfriend.” And then Karen had to be an asshole about it.
“I feel like we’re talking in a circle here, Gav.”
I knead the back of my neck. “That’s because we probably are.”
He nods once and steeples his fingers. “What do you want? If you could put everyone else aside and just focus on you, what would you want?”
“I can’t put Peyton aside.”
“Okay, but you can still put you ahead of everyone else. What do you want?”
I don’t even have to think about it, the answer just rolls off my tongue. “To be with Harley.”
“Why?”
“Why?” I echo.
“Yeah, why do you want to be with Harley? And don’t list any reasons that have to do with Peyton.”
That makes me pause, but he has a point. “I like spending time with her, she’s fun to be around, she makes me laugh, she’s full of adventure, we have a lot in common, and the sex is out of this world.”
He smirks. “You can still keep up in bed, then, huh?”
“I’m in my thirties, not filing for my pension checks, a-hole.”
“I know. I’m kidding. I just wanted to get a reaction out of you. Do you have any concerns about how she is with Peyton?”
“No. None. She’s great with her, and Peyton loves her.” I tap on my armrest. “Which is a problem on its own.”
His brows pull together. “That seems like it should be a good thing, not a problem?”
“It is and it isn’t. Peyton’s already attached to her, and that makes me really want this to work out, and not just for myself.”
Ian nods. “When you say work out, what exactly do you mean?”
I frown. “I want us to be a couple that lasts.”
“You’ve only been seeing each other officially for a few months, though, so you can’t know that for sure.” I can hear the concern in his voice. “It’s good that you’re into her the way you are, and that it seems mutual, but there’s a lot more that you both need to deal with.”
“I just don’t want Peyton to end up getting hurt if Harley and I don’t work out. She’s already lost enough.”
Ian blows out a breath. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself and this relationship. You need to take it one step at a time. Don’t start building the picket fence before you’ve even had a chance to look at house plans.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right.” But now that I have this, I don’t want to lose it, and I’m terrified of fucking it up, if I haven’t done that already.
“You haven’t had a lot of opportunities to date over the last decade, and most of the women you’ve been involved with have been short-term and haven’t even met Peyton, let alone your mother-in-law, who isn’t easy on a good day. I think you need to give credit where credit is due. Harley’s got a backbone and Peyton’s best interests in mind. It’s not like this is easy for her either.”
“She doesn’t want to step on toes,” I agree.
“That’s not what I’m talking about. Didn’t she lose both of her parents in a car accident when she was twelve? Unless I’ve got it wrong?”
“You’re not wrong.” It’s what sold me on hiring her in the first place all those years ago. She knew what that loss felt like. She could relate, and because of that, she seemed like a smart, safe choice for me and Peyton, despite how young she was.
“You both understand what it’s like to lose someone important, and she knows what it’s like to grow up without a mom, just like Peyton. And now she’s contending with a mother-in-law who’s making it clear she doesn’t like her. That’s gotta be tough.”
I’ve been so focused on how to keep the peace that I didn’t even take that into consideration. “My parents love her.”
“Because she’s awesome, but to Karen, I have a feeling she’s a threat.”
I tap my lip, trying to see it through Karen’s eyes, but I can’t. “Why would she see Harley as a threat? It’s not like she’s going to replace them as grandparents, and she doesn’t even have parents who are going to come into the picture either.”
“But if Harley doesn’t like your mother-in-law, she could make it difficult for them to see Peyton in the future.”
“Harley wouldn’t do that, though. That’s not her style at all. And shouldn’t Karen be nice to her instead of cutting her down?”
“Probably, yes, but all Karen sees is the fact that you moved back to Colorado Springs and within a couple of weeks, you rekindled your relationship with the nanny you left behind. She didn’t love that a twenty-year-old was having a hand in raising your kid then, and clearly that hasn’t changed. If you want this thing to work between you and Harley, and it’s clear that you do, you need to put Karen in her place. If you don’t, she’s going to keep doing this because she can get away with it. How long do you think Harley will put up with this?”
He’s right. And I’ve known this all along. Harley might be patient, but there’s only so much she can be expected to take. I can’t ask her to tolerate the way Karen is treating her, or the way I’m letting her treat Harley. It’s not fair to anyone. “Probably not long.”
“Talk to Karen, tell Harley you’re working things out, and ask her if she’s interested in coming to our place for dinner. Lynn’s mentioned that she sees Harley at the school all the time. If you’re serious about her, stop keeping her all to yourself and start folding her into your life.”
* * *
When I return home, it’s close to noon and I bring cinnamon buns with me. I consider leaving them in the car until after my in-laws go home this evening, but decide that’s me pandering to Karen and what she thinks is an acceptable brunch. There’s nothing wrong with an occasional cinnamon roll at noon on a Sunday.
I pass the living room, where Kyle is napping in my lounger with the football game droning in the background. His Sunday routine has been the same for as long as I can remember: armchair quarterback. He sleeps through 50 percent of the game, but the second anyone changes the channel, his eyes pop open. I leave him where he is for now and continue to the kitchen, where Karen is sitting at the table with Peyton, her math workbook in front of her. Peyton looks about as excited as a dead fish.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“Dad!” Peyton jumps up from the table and rushes across the room, throwing her arms around me like I’m a life preserver. “Yay! You’re home! Does that mean we can go to the park now? Can we call Harley and ask her to meet us there? Can we go to that bakery with the sugar cookies?”
Every word out of her mouth makes me cringe and makes Karen’s scowl deepen. “We have three more questions to finish before we can do anything, especially go to the park. And I’m only here for a few more hours, honey. I’d love to spend my afternoon with you. We could go to the museum instead of the park. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“But we always go to the park with Harley on Sundays,” Peyton explains.
“You only get so much Granny time, and Harley’s picking you up tomorrow after school to take you to the park.” At least I’m hopeful that’s still happening. I should’ve dealt with this sooner, like when it happened, instead of dancing around it all weekend.
“But we always see Harley on Sunday afternoons,” she says adamantly. “Can we call her and see? Can’t she come with us today? She makes everything more fun.”
“That’s because she doesn’t enforce any rules,” Karen mutters under her breath, but not quietly enough that I don’t catch it.
“Sweetie, can you take your math books to your room for me and wash your hands? I brought home a treat.” It’s time I had that talk with Karen, and I’d prefer Peyton not be in the room when it happens.
“We’re not finished with her homework yet,” Karen informs me.
“Peyton and I will finish it later. Wash your hands and wake up your grandpa, so we can all eat together.” I pat Peyton on the head and usher her down the hall.
“The math will only take fifteen minutes to finish. I don’t think giving Peyton a treat for half-finished work is setting a good example,” Karen says primly.
“The muttered comments need to stop, Karen. And you can’t talk down about Harley in front of Peyton, and you certainly shouldn’t be doing it in front of me. This isn’t about Peyton’s math homework, which she and I will finish later, after you and Kyle head home.”
Her fingers go to her throat, and she fidgets with the heart-shaped locket she always wears. Inside is a picture of Marcie. “Well, she doesn’t seem to enforce much in the way of rules, and I was just trying to be helpful with the math homework.”
“I appreciate that you want to help out, but this is about more than the math homework. I realize that things are different than they were when we lived in Boulder, but the snide remarks and undermining my parenting decisions aren’t helpful. Peyton is my daughter and what I say goes. I didn’t say anything when we were at the restaurant because I didn’t want to cause a scene or embarrass you in front of everyone, but I can’t and won’t ignore it or leave it unaddressed.”
Karen scrunches up her face. “I used to be so involved in Peyton’s life, and now this Harley woman has reappeared, and all of a sudden I feel like you’re making me out to be the bad guy. For seven years, I made all of Peyton’s after-school snacks and dinners, she and I did all her homework together so you wouldn’t have to when you picked her up from work. And there were plenty of times when you’d have to work late and she’d sleep over, and now I’m only seeing her once a month! I feel like … like I’ve lost Marcie all over again!” She blinks rapidly and turns her head, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue that was tucked into her sleeve.
And I feel like shit all over again. There’s no way I can win this. I ease off a little, trying to see this through her eyes. “I’m not trying to take your granddaughter away from you, and I know this transition isn’t easy, but the condescension and negative commentary on my lax parenting don’t make me feel particularly good. I understand that us moving here has been difficult, but crapping on my parenting isn’t a good way to make things better.”
“I’ve had a hand in raising her!”
“And I appreciate everything you’ve done for us. You’ve been a great source of support for a lot of years, but you can’t come in and railroad all my decisions. It’s not good for me or Peyton, and all it does is cause confusion and dissention. And you need to stop belittling Harley. It’s not okay. I’m invested in her and so is Peyton. She’s a good person, and she doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you’re treating her.”
She folds her hands on the counter, looking somewhat contrite. “I just miss my granddaughter, that’s all.”
“Then we can make plans for you to see more of her. And now that we’re settled, we can come visit more frequently, and you’re always welcome here, but you need to let me be the parent. Just be her grandmother. Have fun with her. Let me be the heavy since that’s my role.”
Peyton comes bouncing down the hall. “Can I have my treat now, Dad?” She clasps her hands behind her back and rolls up on her toes. “Please?”
“You sure can.” I lift the brown paper bag from behind the island, and she shrieks her excitement.
I hope I’ve made an impact with Karen, and that this is the last time I have to have a conversation like this with her. And that the next time she sees Harley, she’s warmer with her. Harley doesn’t deserve that kind of coldness. Not from anyone.
* * *
Later in the evening, after Karen and Kyle have gone home, Peyton and I sit at the kitchen table. She’s dressed in her fairy costume, and I’m wearing a pink tutu that used to fit Peyton as a hat. We do this sometimes, play dress-up and have tea parties. Tonight she asked if we could have grilled cheese sandwiches in lieu of the leftover casserole Karen made for dinner last night. It’s not that it’s bad; it isn’t, Karen is a great cook. However, nine-year-olds aren’t always a fan of all the parts of their meal in a mash-up. And we both felt like grilled cheese. Plus sandwiches and tea parties go hand in hand. We’re drinking chocolate milk out of plastic tea cups to complete the meal. And despite having had cinnamon buns earlier, she and I made those grocery store-bought sugar cookies that I found in the freezer for dessert.
“Are we going to see Harley again now that Granny has gone home?” Peyton dips her grilled cheese in the small lake of ketchup on her plate.
“Want me to make sure she can take you to the park tomorrow after school?”
She nods, and her mouth twists to the side, a sign she’s thinking about what she wants to say. “Granny and Grandpa aren’t coming down again next weekend, are they?”
“No, sweetie, why?” I take the tutu off my head and set it on the table; in part because it’s tight, and also because this seems like a bit of a serious conversation.
She lifts a shoulder and lets it fall. “Why doesn’t Granny like Harley?”
I fight not to react to that. “Why would you say that?”
Peyton picks at the crust and focuses on her plate. “The things Granny says sometimes. It seemed like she was upset that Harley was at lunch with us. And she didn’t want Harley to come to the park with us today, but it’s always more fun when Harley is around. It’s not that Granny isn’t fun, but Harley is … softer. Granny is like a stale marshmallow, and Harley is like a fresh one.”
I smile at the comparison. “I don’t think Granny doesn’t like Harley. I think she just isn’t used to me having a girlfriend.”
“It’s not going to be like when you had that girlfriend before. Trista, I think?”
I blink in surprise. I didn’t think she remembered Trista at all. “What do you mean, it’s not going to be like Trista?”
“She was nice. I liked her. She reminds me of Harley a little. But she wasn’t around for very long, and Granny didn’t like her either. I don’t want that to happen with Harley. I don’t want her to stop coming to pick me up from school, or taking me to the park, or making glitter crafts.”
“Trista didn’t stop coming around because of Granny,” I tell her, but as I say it, I’m not entirely sure that’s the truth. “I know it might seem like that, but Trista and I just weren’t right for each other.”
“Do you think you and Harley are right for each other?” she asks.
I smile softly, struggling for words. “Harley and I have a lot in common, and she understands me in ways that not everyone can.”
Peyton tips her head to the side. “I have lots in common with Harley too. We both like fun art stuff, and we’re not afraid to make a mess because they can always be cleaned up. And we both don’t have a mom because they’re up in heaven.”
“That’s very true.” I swallow past the lump in my throat.
“Harley says they’re up in heaven watching us. And if we pay attention sometimes, they send us signs.”
“Is that so?” Sometimes I wish Marcie would send me a sign. Something to let me know that she approves of my choices. That Harley is the right one for me and Peyton. That she’s okay with me moving on.
She nods. “Do you think Mommy would have liked Harley?”
I have to clear my throat to answer. “I think she would have.”
“Me too. I wonder if Mommy and Harley’s mom are friends in heaven. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” She takes another bite of her grilled cheese.
Her gentle innocence breaks my heart and makes it swell at the same time. “It would.”
Twenty-One
AN UNCERTAIN TRUCE
HARLEY
At ten on Sunday night, just as I’m getting ready for bed, my phone rings. I check the screen, and my heart does a little leap and spin in my chest.
I answer the call with, “hey.”
“Hey, yourself. I missed you this weekend.” Gavin’s voice is soft and raspy. He clears his throat. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I drop down on my couch, put the phone on speaker, and set it on the armrest.
“For the way Karen acted on Friday, and for not putting her in her place. For not sticking up for you the way I should have, and for letting her undermine my parenting,” he says softly.
