Chapter 3
Once the smoke had been cleared, Lainie spent the evening pouring over the newspaper and internet, looking for a place to live, and a job she could do to supplement her meager income and still raise her children. Her mother peeked over her shoulder as Lainie scribbled a red X over several prospects.
"Why are you looking for a job? If you need money, I can give you some."
"I don't want your money," Lainie said, marking out another job in frustration. Single mothers cannot work eight hours a day. It was impossible!
"What's wrong with my money?" Gemma asked, sitting down next to her at the breakfast table. "It's good money. Your father left it for us. Besides, you've still got that trust fund, right? Use that if you can't take my money."
Lainie didn't look up as she answered, "I transferred that trust fund into my children's names last year. It belongs to them now. And I only need a job temporarily until the house sells."
"Then what are you gonna do? You can't live off the equity of your house."
Lainie sighed and threw down her marker. "I just need enough to put a deposit and first month's rent on a house. I've got my royalty check coming later this month, so we'll survive."
Gemma Moon snorted. "Well, if that's all you need..." She reached behind her to the kitchen island and grabbed her handbag.
"Mom," Lainie said, "don't."
Her mother stuffed her cigarette in her mouth and eyed her daughter through the smoke. Finally, she removed the deathstick and pointed it at her. "You have two babies upstairs asleep. You can't work and take care of them. And you obviously don't want to live here with me, so I'm giving you the money for a place of your own. Deal with it."
She wrote a check, ripped it out of the checkbook and handed it to Lainie, who glared at it like it was a snake waiting to bite her. "Take it," her mother demanded. "It'll cover you until you get your royalties. You can consider it a loan if you must." She shook her head and stuffed her checkbook back inside her purse. "I'll never understood why you went into freelance editing. With your intelligence, you could have worked at any of them big, fancy publishing places."
Lainie finally plucked the check from her mother's fingers. "Working from home lets me set my own hours. I couldn't do that if I worked at a publishing house."
Holy crap! Lainie choked when she saw the amount scrawled across the slip of paper. "Mom, this is too much. How can you afford to give me this much?"
"Nonsense. The house is paid for, and I've got no major bills. Besides, I invested in a few things last year. I'm good."
Lainie had always known that her parent had more money than they needed. They lived in a five bedroom house on top of a hill, overlooking the river. Daddy, before he died, drove an old Ford pickup, but her mom rode around in luxury in a Mercedes and had her nails and hair done every week. But growing up, Lainie never felt like a spoiled, rich girl.
She wore hand-me-downs from her older cousins just as often as she wore new clothes. She worked for two years at a grocery store in order to save enough money for her first car, and she'd gone to public schools.
But then, she was never afraid of asking her dad for some extra spending money, and if she wanted something bad enough, she knew she would get it on her next birthday or Christmas. Case in point: The Barbie Dream Home she saw in a toy catalogue at the age of seven and wrote a three page letter to Santa Claus that year, explaining why she just had to have it.
The same Barbie Dream Home that was still upstairs in her old room, and her own daughter played with earlier that morning.
Lainie's parents never threw anything away. So, in a small part of her brain, she was kind of glad that old blue sofa was now sitting out on the curb for the garbage truck. She glanced around the breakfast nook and kitchen for a moment, and realized that the only things she didn't recognize from her childhood, was the coffee maker Lainie gave her mother on Mother's Day, and the purple and brown candy bowl the kids made for Gramma at a pottery shop, which she now uses as an ash tray.
Gemma snuffed out her cigarette and reached for another. Lainie took her pack and lighter away from her. "You've had enough."
Her mother frowned at her, but she didn't argue. Instead, she patted her dark brown curls and innocently said, "That Aaron Dozier was looking mighty handsome today. Too bad you didn't marry him."
Lainie groaned and dropped her head to the table. "Mom, Aaron and I dated a long time ago. We were kids. We were never going to get married."
"I still don't understand why you ever broke it off with him. He was such a nice boy, and safe too. A fire captain. Men like that don't live dangerously...buying motorcycles and getting themselves killed, leaving a wife and two kids behind. No siree, I just don't understand why you two never stayed together."
Leave it alone. That can of worms had been opened before. Just leave it alone.
Gemma continued, "Now, your father would never had done anything that reckless. Oh, sure he liked to play with his guns, bringing home those awful deer antlers every autumn, but I never had to worry about him dying on me."
Lainie raised her head to stare at her mother. "Mom...Dad died five years ago from a heart attack," she pointed out. "His third heart attack. How can you say that you didn't have to worry about him dying?"
Gemma flapped her hands. "Oh, I didn't mean that. I meant he'd never actually do anything that could kill him. I always knew he'd work himself into an early grave. He knew that, too."
Lainie shook her head with disbelief and placed it back on the table. Her mother, thinking Lainie wasn't looking, stole a cigarette and lit it. She inhaled and went on with her badgering. "Now, about that Aaron boy. He's still single, from what I hear. I saw his father the other day. We had lunch together..."
"Oh, God, Mom...please, please, let's not talk about this," Lainie moaned as she sat up.
"Why not?"
Lainie closed her eyes to force some calm into her voice. "Because you shouldn't be seeing Aaron's father."
"We had lunch. What's the big deal?"
"Mom, you had an affair with the man," Lainie said, a tiny bit of coldness entering her words.
Gemma gazed with uncertainty at her daughter. "I still don't understand why you're getting so upset. That happened a long time ago. It was a mistake, and your father forgave me for it. We had a very happy life after that."
Lainie threw her hands up in the air. "Mom, I was dating his son at the time. Don't you think it might still bother me? That my mother slept with the man -- not her husband -- that was the father of the boy I was dating? Don't you think I might still be a little angry at you for ruining my life then?"
"Is that why you broke up with Aaron, dear? Because of my affair with his father?"
"Yes! I'm not like you, Mom. I can't just forgive and forget at a whim. I do still hate you a little for what you did, and I still feel a little betrayed by you, and by Aaron. But I've decided that something good came out of all that."
Gemma smiled. "See there. A positive side. What is it?"
Lainie tried to keep the smile off her face. But it was so difficult when she did love her mother so much, and had always admired her childlike innocence, as frustrating as it was. "Okay, fine. If I had stayed with Aaron, I might not have met Gary and then I wouldn't have the two most beautiful children in the world right now."
"And that's why I never have to worry about you, dear. You have this uncanny ability to see the bright side," her mother smiled and pulled the newspaper closer to her. "Now, tomorrow...shall we go looking for a place to call home? I know this great rent house just up the street in Cammack. Right by the park. It's small, but I know the owner, and it's still close enough that the kids can visit everyday if they want."
Lainie looked at her mother for the longest time. Finally, she smiled and said, "That sounds great, Mom."
*****
Once his two day shift ended and his second-in-command took the reins, Aaron drove the four blocks from the station house to his small bungalow and groaned when he saw the thick layer of dead leaves in his yard. Not much happened in this neighborhood, but the trees were relentless. He gathered up over a dozen yard bags of leaves just last week. Now, it seemed his days off will be full of more yard work.
After a bite to eat and tending to his hound dog, Bowser, who never seemed to mind being left alone for days at a time (even though he paid a neighborhood kid to keep an eye on his dog), he grabbed his leaf blower, a rake and some decomposable yard bags from the garage. He worked for two hours, blowing, raking and stuffing leaves into bags, sweat dripping down his brow and soaking his shirt.
It was only the middle of September, but the heat was stifling, even in the shade of his three massive oak trees. He lost himself in the motions, stopping only long enough to down a few cups of cold water and chat with his neighbor, Mrs. Longstern.
"Joseph told me that he finally has a renter for that house across the street," she told him as he wiped sweat off his brow and smiled politely.
"I keep telling him he needs to lower the rent. No one wants to pay that much for a two bedroom house," she went on. "But he said a lady from church called and wanted to know if it was still available. Something about her daughter needed a place quickly."
"Well, it'll be nice to know someone is living there," Aaron said to the elderly lady. "It's been empty for too long."
"Oh, here's Joseph now," she said, grinning as her son emerged from his vehicle across the street. She waved him over, and he bent to kiss her cheek. Aaron greeted Joseph as an old friend, even though he didn't know the man very well. Only that he owned many of the rent houses in the neighborhood.
Aaron went back to raking leaves, lost in his work, until a familiar laugh drifted on the gentle breeze, across the street and over to him. He looked up. Lainie smiled as her two children played in the leaves in the yard across the street. The rent house that Joseph owned. Aaron watched as she talked to Joseph for a while, shook his hand, and wrote him a check.
Then she seemed to feel him staring at her and lifted her head. Their eyes met across the expanse of the street and the two yards. He heard the little girl say, "Hey look, Mama, it's the fire man." The girl smiled and waved at him, and he waved back.
His gaze went back to Lainie. What did she think about living across the street from him? From the expression that clouded her face, she seemed torn between angry and determination.
Hell, it wasn't his fault she moved in across the street. He went back to his leaves, and she gathered up her children. She could get just as pissy as she wanted, his petulance told him. I was here first.