Нора Робертс - The Last Boyfriend

Avery stopped where she was, instinctively moved the keys in her hand until one jabbed between her fingers. She considered options as the woman pushed to her feet.

Avery was young, strong—and fast, if necessary.

“The restaurant’s closed,” she said calmly.

“I know. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“If you’re looking for work, you can come in tomorrow, during business hours. But right now—”

“Don’t you know me?” She stepped down; Avery braced. “I’m your mother.”

In the wash of security lights, Avery studied the face. She saw it now, of course, she saw it now. But there were so many years between her last look and this one. So much time, so much distance.

She waited for a surge of something—something, but felt numb.

“What do you want?”

“To see you. To talk to you. Can we go inside and talk?”

Saying nothing, Avery walked up the stairs, unlocked her apartment door.

She realized she did feel something after all.

She felt dread.

Avery set her shopping bag aside, took off her coat, her scarf, every movement precise as she draped both over the back of a chair.

She remained silent and standing.

“This is nice.” Her mother’s voice piped out with nervous enthusiasm. “You’ve got a real nice place. I was in your restaurant earlier. It looks great, really great. It’s way professional.”

She needed a root job, Avery noted, and didn’t care if the thought was petty and unkind. Traci MacTavish—or whatever her name was now—wore a bright red coat over tight jeans and a black sweater. Avery’s impression was of a frame more bony than slim, of a narrow face too carefully made up, and short, spiky blond hair against harsh black roots.

Every thought in her head, Avery realized, struck as petty and unkind.

Well, too damn bad.

“What do you want?” she repeated.

“I wanted to see you. God, baby, you’re so pretty! I love your hair. I always worried you’d go around with that Howdy Doody red mop and those awful braces, but look at you! I just—”

“Don’t.” Avery stepped back as Traci started toward her. “Don’t think you’re getting an Oprah moment here.”

Traci dropped her arms, her gaze. “I don’t deserve one. I know it, honey. I do. It’s just seeing you, all grown up, so pretty. I realize what I missed. Can we sit down? Can we just sit for a few minutes?”

“I don’t need to sit.”

“You’re so mad at me.” Like a courageous patriot facing a firing squad, Traci straightened her shoulders. “I don’t blame you. What I did, it was stupid and selfish and wrong. I’m so sorry, Avery.”

“Oh well, you’re sorry.” Letting temper rule, Avery snapped her fingers. “Bang. All better now.”

“It isn’t. I know being sorry doesn’t make it okay. Nothing could, I guess. I did an awful thing, made a terrible mistake. I just—just wanted to see you,” Traci managed as tears shimmered in her eyes. “I thought, maybe, now that you’re grown up, you could understand a little.”

“Understand what?”

“Why I left. I was so unhappy.” She fumbled a tissue out of her purse, then dropped down in a chair and sobbed into it. “Nobody understands what I went through! Nobody can understand how it was for me. You can’t see what’s happening in someone else’s marriage.”

“Oh, I think a kid inside one gets a pretty good picture. You didn’t just walk away from your marriage, you walked away from your daughter.”

“I know. I know, but I couldn’t stay. You were always more your daddy’s girl than mine, so—”

“Be careful what you say about my father.”

“I wouldn’t say anything.” Obviously prepared, Traci pulled out another tissue. “He’s a good man. Maybe he was too good for me. I shouldn’t have married him. I made a mistake.”

“Mistakes seem to be a habit with you.”

“I was so young, honey. Just barely nineteen. And I thought I loved him. I really did. Then I got pregnant, so getting married seemed like the best thing to do. My parents were so hard on me when I told them. You don’t know how scared I was.”

Whatever sympathy she might’ve felt for a young woman in those circumstances evaporated before it fully formed. Avery remembered her grandfather—so kind, so patient, and the sadness in his eyes to the end of his life for the daughter lost to him.

And her grandmother, strong, loving—and always a rock of support for her family.

“Did they kick you out? Threaten to?”

“They . . .”

“Careful,” Avery warned.

“No, but they blamed me. And they said how having a baby meant I had to support it, and—”

“Imagine that. Imagine expecting you to take some responsibility.”

“They were hard on me. They always were. I couldn’t stay home with them picking at me night and day.”

“So getting married was a way out.”

“It’s not like that. I was only nineteen. I thought I wanted to get married and have a family, my own place. And Willy B, he was just so big and handsome, and he took care of things. You know, getting us a place and all. He was real good to me when I was carrying. I tried, I really tried to make a nice house and cook and take care of you when you came. You were a really fussy baby, Avery.”

“Shame on me.”

“I don’t mean it like that. I just— I wasn’t even twenty when you came along, and there was so much to do.”

“I guess my father didn’t do anything.”

Traci sniffled, pressed her lips together. “He did a lot. I’m not going to lie to you. He did a lot around the house and all, and he’d walk the floor with you at night, and rock with you. He was a good daddy.”

“I know he was. He is.”

“I did the best I could, I swear I did.” Eyes drenched, Traci crossed her hands over her heart. “But honest to God, nothing ever got done that I wasn’t doing it all over again. Then you started walking so soon, and you were into everything. I couldn’t keep up. Even when I got a job and got you into day care, there was so much to do, and it was always the same. He even wanted another. Jesus Christ, he wanted more kids, and I couldn’t deal with that. When I had the abortion—”

It was a sudden, sharp slap in the face. “You had an abortion.”

Traci’s tear-splotched face paled. “I thought he’d’ve told you.”

“No, he didn’t tell me.”

“You were three, and my God, Avery, such a handful. I got pregnant again, even though I’d been real careful not to. I couldn’t go through it another time. I just couldn’t, so I took care of it. I wasn’t going to tell him, but we were fighting about something and it came out.”

“You terminated a pregnancy without telling him?”

“He’d’ve tried to talk me out of it, and I’d made up my mind. It was my body, my choice. You’re a woman. You ought to respect that.”

“I respect the right of choice. But what choice did you give him? What respect did you show him? He was your husband, the father, and you made that decision without telling him. Or was he the father?”

“Of course he was! I wasn’t cheating on him.”

“Then.”

Traci stared down at her tattered tissue. “Well, I wasn’t. And I couldn’t handle another pregnancy. I was sick half the time with you, and got big as a house. I didn’t want another baby. I had an abortion, and I had my tubes tied, and that was the end of it.”

“For you,” Avery murmured.

“He was awful mad, awful upset when he found out. And things just went from bad to worse with us. You’ve got to understand, he wasn’t happy either. It wasn’t my fault. We just weren’t happy. But I went to the marriage counseling like he wanted. Nobody can say I didn’t try. I just felt trapped and unhappy. But I tried.”

“Did you?”

“Twelve years. That’s a long time, and all that time it felt like I had to be something I wasn’t.”

“A wife and mother.”

“I wanted more. I know that’s selfish, but I wanted more than working at the mall, and coming home to this town day after day. It got so I hated this town and everything in it. That’s not healthy, is it? It’s not healthy to live like that. My whole life was passing me by, and I couldn’t catch up.”

“So you started having affairs.”

“I didn’t mean to. It just happened.”

“I think having sex with men who aren’t your husband takes some intent.”

“It was only twice before Steve. I wasn’t happy. I needed more. I needed something for me.”

“So you cheated on your husband to get through the boredom of being a wife and mother. And when that wasn’t enough, you just left.”

“Can I have some water? Please?”

Avery walked into the kitchen, filled a glass from the tap. She stood a moment, eyes closed, breath even, until she felt she had her bearings.

Though she’d taken off the red coat, had it draped over her lap, Traci continued to sit, a tissue crumbled in one hand, tears on her lashes. “Thanks. I know you hate me.”

“I don’t know you.”

“I was there until you were almost twelve, Avery. I took care of you. I did my best.”

“Maybe it was your best. That’s very sad for both of us. But there’s been a lot of years between then and now. You never once wrote me, called me, came to see me. Not once.”

“I didn’t know if your father would’ve let me—”

“I told you to be careful. I won’t warn you again.”

“All right. All right.” Dropping her gaze again, she smoothed at the coat. “Maybe I didn’t feel like I could, or should. I just know I had to go, and I did it the wrong way. Willy B, he wanted us to go for more counseling. All that would do was string it all out even more. I didn’t love him, Avery. You can’t live your life without love. I know how he thought, I do. We should try to make it work. We had you to think of. But you were going to grow up one day, weren’t you? And then where would I be? Stuck here, and older. Older and stuck here, without any chance to live my life. I didn’t make Willy B any happier than he made me. What was the point?”

“You wanted out. Fine. You wanted to live your life. Fine again. There’s this thing called divorce. It’s hard, and I’ve heard it can be painful, tough on everybody. But it’s how it’s done in a civilized world where women don’t leave their husbands, children, their homes without a fucking word.”

“I just . . .” She sniffled again, set aside the glass she’d drained. “I was in love! When I met Steve, I felt so much. So much I’d never felt before. I couldn’t think about anything else. It was wrong, I know it was wrong, but I felt alive and happy. I know I did wrong. I know I should’ve been honest with Willy B instead of cheating on him. He didn’t deserve it, but, honey, he didn’t want what I wanted. I couldn’t be who he wanted me to be. And when Steve got a chance—a real business opportunity—down in Miami, he had to go. I had to go with him.”

“You’ve been in Miami.”

“At first. I was so caught up, and running away together, it seemed so romantic, so exciting. I knew your daddy would take good care of you.”

“Stop it. You never gave me a thought once you walked out the door.”

“That’s not true! I didn’t do right. I didn’t think right, but I thought about you. I was real proud when I heard you’d started your own place. It’s a good place, and I was real proud when I heard about it.”

Little warning bells rang in Avery’s mind. She hoped she heard only her own cynicism. “How’d you hear about it?”

“I looked you up on the Internet now and then. I did want to know how you were doing, honey. I can’t count the times I started to email you. And I was real sorry when I heard about Tommy Montgomery. He and your daddy were like brothers. I know Justine didn’t like me much, but she was always nice to me. I felt bad for her.”

“That’s your level of motherly interest? The occasional Google?”

“I was wrong. I don’t expect your forgiveness. I guess I just hoped you’d understand a little.”

“What difference does it make what I understand at this point?”

“I thought maybe you’d give me a chance, so we could get to know each other again, and—”

“What happened to Steve? The love of your life.”

Traci’s face crumpled. Sobbing again, she dug for more tissues. “He—he died. In November. He just died. We’ve been together all this time. We traveled all over, for his work, you know? He had his flaws, sure, but I loved him, and we were happy. Now he’s gone, and I’ve got nobody.”

“I’m sorry. I am. But I can’t fill that gap for you. I won’t. You made your choices. You have to live with them.”