Chapter Two
After no major incidents and only one major freak out when Cody didn't slow down as fast as I thought he should have at a red light, we made it safely to my parents' home. The same home my parents had owned since I was ten years old. The two-story, yellow house with red shutters and door had had some makeovers through the years. I wasn't crazy about the bright colors now, but my mother had read that some famous actress painted her house the same colors, so my dad was stuck living in Ronald McDonald's house. He wasn't fond of us teasing him about it.
My brothers and their families were already there. Two Decker and Sons Landscaping trucks sat in the driveway advertising the family business most of us worked for. I was still irked about being left out of the business name. So maybe Decker and Sons and a Daughter Landscaping didn't roll off the tongue, but I made sure everyone got their paychecks and all the bills were paid on time. So what if I wasn't out in the elements all day long, whether it was in the pouring rain, blazing sun, or raging blizzard? I still played a vital role. And so did Avery, my sister-in-law. The name should really be Decker and Daughters and Sons Landscaping.
"Let's keep the roughhousing with your cousins down to a mild roar tonight," I threw out to Cody before we exited the car.
He ignored me and hopped out of the car, intent on finding Matt and James Jr., aka Jimmy, my brother James's sons. Matt was a junior this year, Jimmy a freshman, and Cody fell between them. Three good boys, but when they got together, something was sure to get broken. We had a running tally-everything from electronics to furniture. Those three reminded me of what it was like growing up with James, my older brother, and Peter, the youngest. Nothing was safe. Thankfully, as the only girl, I never had to share a room with the loveable imbeciles.
Cody was in the house before I even made it up the concrete walk that led to the covered porch with my triple chocolate mousse pie. Hanging ferns dotted the porch and pink impatiens lined the walkway. They didn't exactly match the house, but Ma always did things her way.
A wave of noise hit me once I reached the door. Not only were the cousins already at it, but my dad and brothers were heavily involved in a Cubs game, and from the loud cheering, something amazing just happened. The Cubs were only a warm-up to the Bears pre-season game that would come on later. The Decker men, all six of them to my mother's dismay, would wolf down their dinner so they could catch all the action. We may not go to church every Sunday, but the Deckers never missed a Bears game. I should have known Neil and I weren't meant to be when he told me he didn't like football. I wasn't a fanatic like my dad and brothers, but football was part of being a Decker. I thought maybe the sport would grow on Neil, but it never did, not even when our son started playing. Neil hardly made time to watch him play. Thank goodness for the goofballs I called my brothers and the best dad around that filled in. Though it wasn't a role that fill-ins really worked for. Cody always remembered the games his dad missed no matter who else came.
Those thoughts had me looking down at my pie, wishing for a fork and a corner all to myself where I could drown my sorrows in layers of chocolate mousse and ganache. The sounds of family should have made me feel better, but all I felt was more alone. Neil hadn't been to Sunday dinner in months, but this week it was official. I was single, and my siblings were happily married. My parents were married and mostly happy, maybe a tad combative from time to time, but at the end of the day we knew they loved each other, and come heaven or hell, they were staying together.
I breathed in and out while staring at all the photos that lined the hall back to the kitchen and family room area where everyone was gathered. Simpler and happier times stared back at me. Ma really needed to take down my wedding picture. I stared at my twenty-two-year-old self in a simple silk gown holding a ginormous cascading bouquet of white flowers. I had an all-white wedding. What a dumb idea. Neil looked ridiculous in a white suit. I was smiling up at him as if he held all the answers and the key to my happiness. A handsome, intelligent doctor smiled back at me. And he could be charming when he wanted to be. That quality faded over the years. His hair had too. He no longer had the thick, sandy mane. I smiled when I thought of his rather large receding hairline. Served him right.
My thoughts were interrupted by my mother. "Samantha Marie, are you here?"
She always used my middle name because all good Catholic girls, like my mother, Sarah, needed good Christian names. Samantha was not one of them, and technically neither was Marie, unless you were French, then it meant Mary. But my father loved the name Samantha, and Samantha Mary didn't sound as good, so that's how my name came to be. My mother was distraught about Cody's name, because unlike my brother, I didn't head straight for the Bible to pick it out. I appeased Ma by giving Cody the middle name of Joseph, which was my father's name and a solid Christian name. Now Cody would forever be Cody Joseph to my mother.
I took a deep breath. "I'm here, Ma." I headed straight into the fire.
Avery, James's wife-and one of my dearest friends, coworker, etc.-was in the kitchen with Ma putting the final touches on a variety of grilled meat with enough sides to fill a restaurant buffet. In between that they were smacking away the hands of the hungry teenage boys who were trying their best to get a taste before the food made it to the table. In the nearby family room, Dad and James were standing up watching the game; they must be the ones manning the grill, or semi-manning. Peter sat on the loveseat with Delanie, his wife, who couldn't have cared less about the game. But she cared about Peter; it was apparent from her gaze. They had an interesting love story, but I couldn't think about it at the moment. My heart couldn't stand the reminder. Tiny, feisty Mimsy sat on the recliner with her Cubs cap on her silver head of hair, cheering as loud as the men.
Ma spun around in her 1950's apron. "Oh, good, you brought the pie."
"I'm going to put it in the fridge."
She nodded, but before I could make it to the fridge, Ma patted my cheeks with her wet hands. "Smile, beautiful girl."
Smile? What was that? And at almost forty, girl was stretching it.
I mustered up a fake, close-lipped smile for the woman who gave me life.
She squinted her pale blue eyes, multiplying the wrinkles on her forehead. She still wore her long, gray hair pulled back in a ponytail most days. Her willowy figure was softer now, but I still saw the beautiful woman that raised us and did her best to keep us in line.
She patted my cheeks one more time for good measure. "You'll get there."
I let the cold of the refrigerator ward off any tears when I placed my pie on the middle shelf near what I assumed was the dessert Delanie brought. I wasn't exactly sure what it was. Maybe a cobbler or crisp? It was hard to tell, and it may have been burnt. Delanie was challenged when it came to baking or cooking of any sort. Peter would be kind and eat most of what she brought and do his best to pretend it was the best thing he had ever eaten. Avery and I would each have some to be supportive because we knew Ma didn't like her and we knew Delanie knew. But it wouldn't be pleasant. That's why I made an extra pie and kept it at home. Hopefully I would get some before Cody found it.
Avery was next. She got her hugs in while she stirred the Decker secret sauce that drenched any kind of meat we ever had. It was a barbecue sauce with a shot or two of whiskey, depending on the mood of the cook. It was a good thing it wasn't me today, or none of us would have been legally able to drive home. Avery looked at home in the kitchen, but didn't look like she ever ate a thing. Probably because she and my brother were that weird couple that thought running marathons was fun. And even though Avery was two years older than me, her blond hair and petite figure made me envious.
Then Peter went off and married Delanie, a red-headed, model-looking creature who was way younger than me. So not only was I now divorced, I also felt like the plain-Jane of the family. Divorce had a way of sucking the self-esteem right out of you. Did I mention my ex left me for a twenty-five-year-old? She was gorgeous too. I mean in the fake boobs, I-starve-myself sort of way, but I would be lying if I said she was ugly. She barely even showed that she was six months pregnant. Or was it seven? Regardless, I hated her.