California Girls(35)

“You can stay here if you want,” her mother offered. “In your old room. It’s all still there.” Mary Jo put an arm around her. “No one will find you here. You’ll be safe.”

“Thanks, Mom. I might take you up on that.”

Not this second, but if she had to, at least she had a refuge.

Ali started to say something, then stopped. She patted Finola’s arm. “We’re all here for you, no matter what. I even know someone who probably knows a guy who can beat him up.”

Mary Jo glanced at her. “Who would you know?”

“Daniel, Glen’s brother. I suspect he has some interesting friends. Or maybe he’d just do it himself.”

While Finola wanted Nigel bleeding and in pain, she didn’t think hiring someone was a smart move. At least not today. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

“I’m really sorry,” Zennie said from the other side of the table. “He’s such an asshole.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I know what will take our minds off everything,” Mary Jo said cheerfully. “Let’s start with the junk room. It’s a big mess. We’ll each take a side and be done in no time.”

“Zennie and I will tackle the closet,” Ali said. “Finola, do you feel up to it?”

“Of course. I could use a distraction.” Anything was better than being home alone where she alternated between trying to figure out a plan to win Nigel back and wondering if she could find a few anthrax spores to send him in the mail.

They went upstairs to the bonus room. It was long and narrow, with a peaked roof and one small window at the far end. Shelves lined the two long walls, and there was a huge craft table under the window. Right by the stairs was a massive walk-in closet with more shelving.

Finola looked at all the boxes and bins, the stacks of fabric and grocery bags filled with who-knows-what and knew there was no way they could get through all this.

A distraction, she told herself. She was here for that and nothing more. Mindless sorting would help.

She and her mother started on the shelves, while Zennie and Ali tackled the closet. Finola reached for a couple of small bins and set them down. She opened the first one and stared inside.

“Fabric scraps?”

“From my quilting projects,” Mary Jo said. “I just couldn’t get inspired. Maybe if I’d had grandchildren.”

“Mom!” Ali and Zennie said together.

“You’re not helping,” Zennie added.

“It’s not my fault,” Mary Jo complained. “At least one of you should have popped out a baby by now. Speaking of not being in a relationship and giving your mother the only thing she’s ever wanted, Zennie, I’m setting you up on a blind date. I’ll text you the details.”

Finola turned toward the closet. “Won’t you need time to get over your breakup?”

“We’d only gone out a few times. It’s not a breakup.”

“It is to me,” her mother muttered. “Finola, be a dear and go into the garage and bring back a couple of boxes. We’ll put what I’m giving away in one box and trash in the other. Things I’m taking with me can stay on the shelves.”

Finola did as she was asked. By the time she was back with the boxes she saw that Zennie and Ali had found the family’s Christmas village. The sight of it reminded her of many holidays, when each of the girls had been allowed to add to the village. There wasn’t a master plan and they each liked different styles, so their village was a hodgepodge of Victorian and modern, ceramic and wood. There were three pet stores and at least five churches. Lots of trees and lampposts and a big carousel Finola had picked for her sixth Christmas.

She touched the beautiful carved horses, remembering how much she had loved it. The carousel could be wound so it moved and played music. Since the divorce, Mary Jo hadn’t bothered decorating much for the holidays, but she’d also refused to give anything to her daughters. She was saving it all for when she had grandchildren, or so she’d claimed. Now she looked at the collection and shook her head.

“Take what you want. I won’t have room for any of it in my new place. It’s too small.”

“Ali, isn’t the Victorian church your favorite?” Zennie asked.

“You mean the one she broke?” Mary Jo sighed. “You might as well take that one, Ali. No one else will want it.”

“We were all playing,” Finola said sharply. “It wasn’t her fault.” She moved close to Ali and smiled. “Remember how we used to make streets out of cotton balls so it looked like snow?”

Ali smiled. “Yes, and then we’d sprinkle on glitter. We made a really big mess.”

“Maybe, but it was beautiful. Which pieces do we all want?”

Zennie took one of the pet stores and a church. “I don’t need anything else. Just these two. Okay, and the toy store if no one cares.”

“Go for it,” Ali said, touching the carousel. “You’ll want this, Finola. It’s always been your favorite.”

Finola nodded because her throat was too tight for her to speak. She remembered sitting with the carousel for hours, winding it up over and over again, listening to the music and watching the horses move. She used to daydream about where she would go if they were real. Her destinations were always far away, where she would meet interesting people and learn things no one else knew. Years later, she’d imagined setting up the carousel in her own house.