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“Believe me,” Blue said, “I understand what it’s like to have serious maternal issues, but you’re not in the best state of mind to deal with this. Maybe we should talk it through first?”
“Let’s not.” Shoving aside the plastic, he peered into the living room only to hear footsteps overhead. He headed for the stairs.
She had more than enough trouble of her own, but instead of letting him go, she stayed at his heels. “I’m just saying that I think you need to give yourself a little time to cool off before you confront her.”
“Beat it.”
He’d already reached the top with Blue only a few steps behind. The smell of paint was stronger up here. She peered around his broad back into the big, irregularly shaped hallway. All the doors were missing, but, unlike the downstairs, this area had been painted, new electrical sockets waited for sconces, and the old wide-plank floors gleamed. Just past Dean’s shoulder, Blue glimpsed a bathroom that had been carefully restored with white honeycomb tile, freshly painted tongue-and-groove wainscoting, an antique medicine cabinet, and pewter fixtures.
His mother emerged from a bend in the hallway, a slouchy metallic tote stuffed with papers in her hand. “I’m not sorry.” She met his eyes defiantly. “I’ve worked harder than any real housekeeper.”
“I want you out of here,” he said in a cold steel voice that made Blue flinch.
“As soon as I get everything organized.”
“Now.” He moved deeper into the hallway. “This is bullshit, even for you.”
“I’ve done a good job.”
“Pack up.”
“I can’t go now. Tomorrow, the men are coming with the kitchen countertops. I have electricians showing up and painters. Nothing will be done right if I’m not here.”
“I’ll risk it,” he snapped.
“Dean, don’t be stupid. I’m staying at the tenant’s cottage. You won’t even know I’m around.”
“You couldn’t be invisible if you tried. Now get your crap together and get out of here.” He brushed past Blue and headed downstairs.
The woman stared at his retreating back. Her head came up, her shoulders straightened, but then her weight seemed too much for her. The tote dropped from her fingers. She bent down to pick it up, then sat on the floor instead, her spine pressed to the wall. She didn’t do anything as dramatic as bursting into tears, but she looked so sad that Blue’s heart went out to her.
The woman bent her knees and wrapped her arms around them, the silver rings showing off her slender fingers. “I wanted…to make a home for him. Just once.”
Blue’s own mother would never have thought of anything like that. Virginia Bailey understood nuclear disarmament treaties and international trade agreements, but she knew nothing of homemaking. “Don’t you think he’s a little old?” Blue said softly.
“Yes. Too old.” The long blunt ends of her hair fell over the crocheted whirls of her camisole. “I’m not a horrible person. Not now.”
“You don’t seem horrible.”
“You probably think I shouldn’t have done this, but, as you can see, I didn’t have anything to lose.”
“Still, hiding your identity probably wasn’t the best way to manage a reconciliation. If that’s what you’re looking for.”
The woman drew her knees closer to her chest. “It’s too late for that. I just wanted to fix up this place for him, then get away before he figured out I was his Mrs. O’Hara.” With a self-conscious laugh, she lifted her head. “I’m April Robillard. I haven’t even introduced myself. This must be embarrassing to you.”
“Not as much as it should be. I have an unhealthy curiosity about other people’s business.” She noticed a little color returning to April’s pale cheeks, so she kept talking. “I don’t actually buy the tabloids, but if I walk into a Laundromat and see one lying around, I’ll dive over a row of washers to get to it.”
April gave a shaky laugh. “There’s a certain fascination in reading about other peoples’ screwups, isn’t there?”
Blue smiled. “Would you like me to get you something? A cup of tea? A drink?”
“Would you…just sit with me for a minute? I miss being around women. The men who work here are great, but they’re men.”
Blue had a feeling April didn’t easily ask for help. She understood all about that. The smell of fresh lumber drifted up the stairs as she sat on the floor across from April and searched for a neutral topic. “I like what you’ve done.”
“I tried to make the renovations fit the bones of the house. He’s so restless. I wanted him to be able to relax here.” She gave a choked laugh. “I guess tonight wasn’t the best way to get a start on that.”
“He seems pretty high maintenance.”
