A Mother's Homecoming(69)
“Okay.” He supposed that made sense. It surprised him a bit that she’d become so emotional over it, although he had to admit that the sight of blood on that poor little girl’s face had left even him shaken. And he was astute enough to realize that Pam’s own personal issues had magnified her response.
She sighed. “I don’t mean to ruin your evening, but do you think you could take me home? I wasn’t feeling that great when I got here, and now …”
“Yeah, okay.” He could probably make it back before the end of the game, but if it looked like he wouldn’t, he’d call his sister. “Guess I’m ready whenever you are.”
She was quiet on the walk through the parking lot, the only sound coming from her the jangling rattle of the charms on that silly mum he’d bought. It had seemed like a cute idea at the time, but now it made him wince. Tonight just didn’t seem like the right venue for silly. In the background, the band led the crowd in the “Charge!” cheer and Nick cast about for something to say.
Halfway to her house, he still hadn’t come up with much. He told her that he was looking forward to meeting Bryce’s parents when they picked up Faith for the dance tomorrow night and that he had narrowed down Faith’s Christmas present to three guitars and would love to get Pam’s opinion before he made his purchase. All of this was met with semiaudible, monosyllabic responses.
Rolling up to the house in the dark, the two of them alone in the car, brought on a serious case of déjà vu. How many times had he brought her home after Friday night football games?
Since she didn’t seem to be in the right frame of mind for nostalgia, he said simply, “I’m worried about you.”
“You and me both.” She ran a hand through her stylishly choppy hair. “I was standing there with one shrieking kid in my arms, staring at another wailing kid smeared in her own blood, and I thought, ‘I need a drink.’”
Was that why the waterworks afterward? “Lots of people would have that same reaction under those circumstances. But you took that bottle away from the guy and tossed it, you didn’t take it from him and start doing shots.”
She made a noncommittal noise and opened her door. He followed her up the sidewalk, wishing he knew what she was thinking. Sometimes he felt like he knew her better than anyone else on the planet; other times she’d shocked him—like when she left.
With that long-ago blow in mind, he looked at her living room with fresh eyes. All of the improvements he’d been applauding her for now looked sinister. He thought about the mood she’d been in all evening, the pensiveness in her expression when she met him at the stadium entrance.
“You’re finished, aren’t you?” he said. “With the house.”
She nodded, not looking at him. “It isn’t perfect, but most homes that go on the market aren’t. It’s good, though.”
“Are you …” He stopped, swallowed, tried again. “Are you going to stick around until after it sells?”
She sat on the couch, tucking one leg under her. “Technically I don’t have anywhere I have to be, although Annabel thinks she’s ready for a change of scenery and we’ve talked about being roommates. The longer I stay here, the harder it will be to leave.”
“Then don’t leave.” He knew it was a mistake even before he said it—she’d see it as pressuring her, and she was having a lousy night. But he couldn’t help it. “Would it be so bad to stay?”
“I’m at a good place with Mimosa right now,” she said. “Best I’ve ever been. You follow sports. Don’t they always tell athletes to go out while they’re on top, retire at the zenith of their game? I’d rather leave town now and never see any of these people again than … than do what that man did tonight. I’d be surprised if his wife stays with him after this.”
It was the choice she’d made twelve and a half years ago all over again, he realized. If she convinced herself that it was in their—his, Faith’s, her family’s—best interest for her to go, she’d probably be out of the town limits before he even got to say goodbye. Then she’d been motivated by her depression and the specter of her dysfunctional relationship with Mae, afraid of how both those things could harm their daughter. Now she was terrified of what would happen if she started drinking again.
He knelt in front of her, taking both her hands in his. “You’re sober now, Pam. I believe in you.”