The Friends We Keep

Even as she thought about the extra cookie she had after breakfast most days and the secret stash of Hershey’s Kisses in her nightstand, she told herself not to get off track. Andrew was due home any second. Cecelia would be arriving, Makayla was going to have a crisis before she headed to her mom’s and the twins could only be counted on to be quiet and entertain themselves in twenty-minute increments. That time was rapidly drawing to a close.

She pulled off the dress and flung it on the floor, then reached for her go-to black pants. They were stretched out at the waist and in need of replacing, but none of that mattered now. They fit.

She pulled them on, then searched for a top that was on the dressy end of professional. She found a black blazer that always worked, only there was a stain on the front. She jerked the hangers across the racks, trying to remember what she owned that wasn’t too small, too frayed or just plain ugly. Her throat tightened as panic set in. In her head she heard the frantic ticking of time going by too quickly melding with the horrifying realization that somewhere along the way, she’d gotten fat.

At the far end of the upper rack, she spotted a red sleeve. She pulled the shirt off the hanger and breathed a sigh of relief. Okay, the color wasn’t good, but the loose, silky shirt would fit her. The fabric was a little see-through and had an unfortunate gold weave running through it. She had no idea what had possessed her to buy it. Still, she was grateful to have something to wear.

She pulled on a plain black camisole, grabbed the red shirt and hurried back into the bathroom. The twins lay across Boomer. Jasmine was nowhere to be seen. Not a surprise—the feline had excellent self-preservation instincts. She seemed to sense exactly when there was going to be a crisis of some kind and extricated herself before it could happen.

Makeup, Gabby thought frantically as she plugged in her hot rollers. Curl her hair, makeup, dinner prep, Makayla, Cecelia, feed the pets, talk to the twins and out the door. It was possible, she told herself. Unlikely, but possible.

She draped the red shirt over the side of the tub. Kennedy wrinkled her nose.

“Mommy, you said you were wearing a dress.”

“No, you said that. I like pants.”

“You’re still pretty,” Kenzie said loyally.

“Thank you, sweetie.”

“Daddy likes you in a dress.” Kennedy’s expression turned stubborn. “And high heels.”

“I’m going to wear high heels.” High-ish, Gabby thought, already feeling her toes whimper in protest.

“Gabby, where are my white crop pants?” Makayla asked from the doorway to the bathroom. “I put them in the wash this morning.”

Gabby reached for her comb. After sectioning her hair, she put in a hot roller. “I don’t do whites on Fridays. I do them on Monday and Thursday.”

“But you knew I need them for this weekend.” Makayla’s expression turned annoyed and the volume of her voice increased. Danger. “You didn’t wash them on purpose.”

The twins looked at each other. Identical mouths formed perfect O’s as they waited to see what would happen next.

Every Friday Makayla was seeing her mother, Gabby thought grimly, there was a crisis, a fight, a something. And it was always her fault. Sugar, sugar, sugar.

Gabby faced her stepdaughter. Once again she was momentarily distracted by how pretty she was and how Makayla would spend much of her adulthood defined by her beauty. Oh, to be so cursed, Gabby thought ruefully.

“Makayla, you know I do laundry on a schedule. I’ve done it on a schedule since you came to live with us two years ago. I do the whites on Monday and Thursday. If you have a special request, I’m happy to try to help, but you didn’t tell me about the pants. I had no way of knowing they were in the laundry.”

Tears filled the teen’s eyes. “You could have looked.”

The unreasonable statement made her chest tighten. Deep breath. “And you could have told me. I can’t read your mind. Is there something else you can take with you?”

“No, the weekend is ruined!”

“Why is that?”

The question came from the bedroom. Gabby felt the tightness around her chest ease just a little. The twins scrambled to their feet and raced toward the speaker, as did Boomer.

Shrieks of “Daddy! Daddy!” competed with barks and Makayla complaining about her lack of white crop pants.

Gabby turned back to the mirror. The odds of her getting close to Andrew in the next ten minutes were close to zero. The girls and Makayla always claimed his attention when he got home. Boomer needed his moment with the master of the house. Even Jasmine would stroll in for a quick chin scratch.

Gabby finished rolling her hair, then quickly applied her makeup. She had a five-minute routine that got her through most situations. She wasn’t sure who the fund-raiser was for or the crowd they might face, so she took a little extra time with her eye shadow and liner.

Ten minutes later she pulled out the rollers and finger-combed her hair, then applied hair spray. Earrings followed. She slipped on low pumps and hurried out of the bedroom.

She walked toward Makayla’s room. The teen was folding pink pants.

“You doing okay?” she asked, careful to sound cheerful rather than cautious.

Makayla nodded without looking at her.

“Okay, then. Come get me if you need anything.”

Gabby hurried to the kitchen where she checked on dinner. She wasn’t sure where the twins were, but she could hear laughter and Andrew’s low voice from somewhere in the back of the house.

Boomer and Jasmine came into the kitchen. The calico wound around her legs in what Gabby assumed was supposed to be affection. Or at least a claim on her attention.

“I’m very clear on the time,” she told her pets. “You’re next.”

She put Boomer’s food in a bowl and set it in the mudroom, then got out Jasmine’s dinner. Wet food with water mixed in, to keep Jasmine’s urinary tract healthy. Gabby added a small bowl of kibble on the side and carried both to the laundry room, because there was no way dogs and cats could eat together. Not if the cat was going to get any food.

Jasmine jumped up on her table and meowed until Gabby set down the dishes.

The pets fed, Gabby returned to the kitchen and set the table for three, all the while glancing at the clock. She pulled out the plate of raw vegetables she’d cut up earlier. Because while the twins wouldn’t touch a cooked vegetable, they would eat them raw.

Right on time, the doorbell rang. Boomer announced their visitor, in case he was the only one who heard the bell. The twins came running, yelling Cecelia’s name. Gabby let in the teen and smiled gratefully.

“Hi,” she said with a sigh. “I hope you like lasagna.”

“Love it.”

Cecelia had a backpack slung over one shoulder. Gabby knew that once she got the twins settled, she would study. In addition to her part-time job at Supper’s in the Bag, Cecelia babysat and took classes in summer school. It was impressive.

Back in the kitchen for what felt like the forty-seventh time in the past ten minutes, Gabby explained about what had to be done for dinner. She went over the selected toys, books and movies for that evening and guessed as to when she and Andrew would be home.

“You have our cell numbers, right?” she asked.

“Programmed into my phone,” Cecelia told her. “Don’t worry. We’ll have a great time.”

“I know. I can’t help it.”

She glanced at the clock. “Candace is going to be here any second,” she said. “I need to check on Makayla.”

The twins, Boomer and Jasmine followed her down the hall to where Makayla stood with her suitcase. Her expression was tense, her body stiff. She looked more like she was heading to the dentist than to her mom’s for the weekend.

For a second Gabby felt sympathy. Makayla didn’t have it easy. Candace was an indifferent mother at best and she was often late. More than once, she’d phoned at the last minute to say she couldn’t possibly take her daughter for the weekend. Sometimes it was a legitimate reason—like being out of town on business. But more often there was no explanation offered.