Currant Creek Valley(31)
“I mean it. My life is arranged exactly the way I want it.”
Mary Ella grew quiet. She sipped at her tea for a long moment then set her cup down on the saucer and faced Alex squarely, her green eyes a murky mix of sadness, concern and that lingering joy that couldn’t quite be squelched.
“Not all men are like your father, Alexandra. You know that, right?”
They rarely approached the topic of James McKnight. She really didn’t want to discuss it now.
“You think I don’t want to make a commitment to a man because of Dad?”
“You were so close to your father.” Mary Ella seemed to be picking over her words as carefully as Alex chose produce at the farmers’ market. “I remember how you used to love cooking something special for him on weekend mornings. I would wake up and you would already be hard at work in the kitchen trying to come up with something unique. He would come in from his run, scoop you up in his arms and call you his little Julia Child.”
She hated remembering those weekend mornings. “He had everything a man could want. But he still walked away from all of us.”
“Oh, darling. Your father loved you and your brother and sisters. I have to think he loved me, as well. But there was always some core of him that could never be happy, no matter what I did or any of you children did. I’m not sure he had the capacity to be truly happy. We married so young and I think part of him could never stop wondering about the roads he didn’t have the chance to travel and what might have been waiting for him there.”
Mary Ella touched her hand. “That didn’t mean he didn’t love you, Alex. All of you. I know he did. The time he spent with you children was some of his happiest.”
When she let herself see anything past her anger, she truly missed those happy times. Her father had been clever and fun, curious about everything around him.
Maybe, if she hadn’t been dealing with the ache of abandonment, she might have been more discriminating in her choices later in life. She wouldn’t have been so desperate for someone to love her that she completely ignored common sense and simple instincts.
“I’m going to tell you something I don’t think I’ve ever voiced before,” Mary Ella said. “If your father hadn’t been killed in that accident at the dig, I honestly think he would have come to his senses and realized everything he was giving up. He would have come to see how very much his family meant to him.”
“We’ll never know, will we?”
“No. And that grieves my heart for you children more than I can say.”
Alex shook her head. “Let’s not talk about this. This is a happy day. You’re getting married!” She injected all the enthusiasm she could in her voice, became as perky as Rachael freaking Ray sucking helium. “I’m so happy for you and Harry. As long as he treats you well, who cares that he has a reputation for being the crankiest man in town?”
Mary Ella laughed and allowed herself to be distracted, much to Alex’s relief. They talked a few more moments about the wedding plans and the restaurant and then Mary Ella left, with the excuse that she was meeting Claire and Riley at the Center of Hope Café to share the news with them.
With all the tea she had already nervously consumed, Alex doubted Mary Ella would have room left for any of Dermot’s food, but she wisely kept that opinion to herself.
After her mother left, she wandered around the bookstore for several minutes, purchased a couple foodie magazines and a cookbook for ideas.
She put them in her vehicle, which she had parked in the little lot behind Maura’s store, then headed across and down Main Street to the little fenced yard at String Fever where she had left Leo to play with Chester while she met her mother.
The two dogs were nestled together in a patch of spring sunlight that had burst through the gloom while she was at the bookstore. The sight of them, Leo’s head resting on Chester’s plump haunches, made her smile and pushed away a little of her restlessness.
She left them to it and peeked her head into the store to grab the leash she had left in Claire’s office. Evie stood behind the counter talking to one customer with another one waiting to grab her attention. She never disturbed her when she was busy so she only held up the leash and waved at her friend to let her know she was taking Leo with her.
By the time she walked back out, Leo was waiting for her by the rear door of the store, his tail wagging a greeting. He really was a great dog. Somebody had to be missing him somewhere.
Outside the fenced garden, she paused, the leash dangling in her hand. Every instinct she might have for self-preservation was urging her to take the safe course for the rest of the day—to climb back into her SUV and head home and work on her fledgling vegetable-and-herb garden along the banks of the creek.