The Slow Burn Read online

  “If Deanna and Charlie want to come over too, they’re welcome, as always,” Dave replied.

  “Right.”

  “See you in coupla hours, son.”

  “Later, Dave,” Toby said.

  “’Bye, Dave,” I said.

  “Goodbye, child.”

  Toby disconnected us.

  I gave him time.

  Then I urged, “Talk to me.”

  “I don’t want that fuck anywhere near Brooklyn,” he declared.

  I stared out the windshield.

  That was the first father demand he’d ever made.

  Although I was uncertain about how I felt about what just happened, I wasn’t uncertain about that.

  I loved it.

  “You’re an adult, you can choose,” he continued. “I’m at your side, your back, there to listen to you, whatever, you accept that olive branch him and his woman were trying to shove in your face. But you give that bastard a shot, there’s gonna be a long fuckin’ discussion before he gets near Brooklyn, and he does not see you without me. Neither does she.”

  “At this point, Brooks has no grandparents, but he does have three million dollars,” I stated cautiously.

  “Then who the fuck are Margot and Dave?” Toby demanded.

  Shit.

  “I mean of blood, not of the heart,” I amended quickly.

  Toby said nothing.

  I gave him more time.

  Then I said, “People change.”

  Toby made no reply.

  “He didn’t start it, she did,” I reminded him. “He didn’t try to waylay us. He just . . .”

  I pressed my lips together thinking about what “he just . . .”

  Daphne would forgive.

  If the apology is true, my beautiful queens, a genuinely kind heart is an open heart you never close against anybody.

  “Government cheese,” Toby ground out over my mother’s voice in my head.

  I closed my eyes.

  “Johnny showed me the pictures of you, in the tack room at their place,” Toby told me.

  I opened my eyes.

  “The pictures of you three and the horse,” he carried on. “It was after I showed him the ring Margot and I got you. We made a pact, Johnny and me. Never again, Addie.”

  I looked to him. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your day out with your mom when you were kids. Plastic shoes. Home-done haircuts.”

  I wanted to smile because I remembered those pictures.

  And that day.

  We’d had a blast.

  “You and your sister will never suffer again, Adeline. Not ever fucking again.”

  Oh God.

  My man.

  “Tobe,” I said softly.

  “Never again, Addie. Especially not at the hands of that fucking man.”

  “We were happy.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I’m a millionaire now,” I reminded him.

  Well . . . ish.

  Did one million make you a millionaire?

  I didn’t ask that of Toby.

  Though I wasn’t done speaking.

  But Toby got there before me.

  “You were a millionaire when you walked in there, Adeline. My ring, my bed, our kid, our money.”

  You could hear the hiss of breath that I took in at that.

  “But that’s now,” Toby said. “Six months ago, you couldn’t afford Christmas presents for your baby.”

  “What I mean is, I’m a millionaire now, and so are you, but what I said on Christmas day stands. And my mother taught me that. You, our kid, our dog, our bed, and well, now . . . our cat, and I’m good. It’s always been that way. All I needed was Mom and Izzy. Then Brooks.” I reached out to wrap my hand around his thigh. “I’ve always been rich, Toby. You know what my mom would ask when we were doing Sunday facials or sitting under the stars or eating some crazy recipe she made of lentils that tasted great and we’d be giggling and all happy?”

  “What’d she ask?”

  “‘I wonder what the poor people are doing?’”

  His hand covered the back of mine, his fingers curling around.

  “That was Daphne,” I said softly. “And I’m Daphne. And I have Brooks and you, Izzy, Johnny, Margot, Dave. Do you think anything can hurt me? Do you think Daphne ever let him really hurt me? I grew up the richest girl in the world. And that shit just keeps coming.”

  “Granite and steel,” he muttered.

  I wasn’t sure I got him.

  I still said, “Yeah.”

  He drove.

  After a while, I looked forward and rode.

  But I didn’t move my hand.

  There was a long silence.

  Toby broke it.

  “If he or his wife give it a shot, you gonna let him in?”

  “I’m gonna talk with Izzy and Margot, and then you, and decide.”

  “All right, baby.”

  He again drove.

  And I rode.

  I broke that silence.

  “Thanks for coming with me, honey.”

  His hand gave mine a firm squeeze.

  “Shut it, Lollipop.”

  I stared out the windshield.

  And I smiled.

  Toby

  Two Weeks and One Day Later . . .

  The women were seated, huddled, two blonde heads only the men who loved them could tell apart, a stylish black hairdo and a head covered in a silk scarf.

  The men were not seated.

  All of them were standing, shoulders against the wall, arms crossed on their chests, in a row.

  Johnny, Dave, Toby and Charlie.

  Brooks was outside with a sixteen-year-old named Lauren who he’d fallen in love with during their occasional times together the last three months.

  Izzy’s cell on speakerphone, sitting on Margot and Dave’s coffee table, a phone that could not be seen due to the women hovering over it, was ringing.

  A woman’s voice answered.

  “Hello? Yes? Is this Eliza and Adeline?”

  She sounded nervous.

  Shit.

  “Yes, uh . . . Fonda, it’s me and Addie,” Izzy replied.

  Shit.

  “Okay, okay, well . . . hi.”

  “Hi,” Iz said.

  “Hi,” Addie said.

  “Okay, well, we really weren’t expecting . . . I mean, the lawyers called last week to share you wanted contact, so we had time. But we so weren’t expecting . . . I mean, it was such a surprise, we’re . . .” She stopped babbling and stated, “We’re very happy you reached out. Your father is very happy that you girls reached out.”

  A noise rolled up Toby’s throat.

  Addie’s hair skidded across her back as she looked over her shoulder at him.

  Love you, she mouthed. It’s okay.

  He grunted.

  Through this, Fonda was talking.

  “He’s . . . I hope you can imagine, he’s very nervous. He’s not even in the room, he’s so freaked out.”

  “We’re nervous too,” Addie turned back to tell her.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Fonda admitted. “I don’t want to offend you girls in any way. It would be bad if I said something stupid and unintentionally . . .” She trailed off then instantly started back in, “But, well, Harley . . . he’s been lost. Since I met him, just lost. Lost without you. Lost without your mom. Even with me, he . . . I’m not sure, well, God, this is so hard.”

  “Just speak your words, Fonda,” Izzy urged gently.

  “Okay,” Fonda replied hesitantly. “I’m just not sure since it’s been so long that he could get used to being found.” Her voice dropped. “He has your picture. A picture of you girls with your mom. He carries it in his wallet. He carries it everywhere. As long as I’ve known him, he’s had that picture. And I’ve known him twenty years.”

  “Motherfucker,” Johnny said under his breath.

  Fortunately, he did it low enough none of the women looked to him.


  That was none but Margot, who lifted her squinty eyes to Johnny in a clear communication of shut the fuck up.

  Without the F-word, obviously, but with the emphasis it provided.

  “He loved her,” Fonda shared quietly. “He loved her very, very much.”

  Motherfucker.

  “That couldn’t have been easy on you,” Addie noted.

  “I didn’t mind, she was beautiful. You were beautiful. You are beautiful,” Fonda said. Then again quiet, “It’s not bad to have a man who can love like that.”

  Fantastic.

  The woman sounded sincere.

  “It was issues with his dad,” she told the sisters. “I know that doesn’t excuse it. I’d never try to excuse it. Harley either. He definitely wouldn’t. But it was issues with his dad. His father wanted him to take over the hardware stores. Only child, a son, he was far from happy Harley wanted to be a musician. Thought he was a momma’s boy and shared he thought that, well, really frequently. He felt pressure to make something of himself. Pressure to prove his dad wrong. And he was . . . he was young and feeling things he couldn’t . . . God, it sounds like I’m making excuses when I’m not. I’m really not. I just . . . he might not tell you this because he won’t want you to think . . . I just thought you might . . . you should know.”

  Margot sat back.

  There it was.

  And it began.

  Shit.

  “We’re glad you told us,” Addie said to the phone.

  “When your mom left, took you girls, he got into booze and drugs. It was after going to AA when he learned he needed anger management too. Though I think he already kinda knew that because he never . . . not with me . . .” Fonda didn’t finish that. She shared, “And he did that. Anger management. Now he’s been clean for ten years and he . . . well, he owns a club. Here in Memphis. He plays with his boys Friday nights but mostly he finds acts he thinks have talent and gives them a shot. He’s, well . . . his place is well-known. Justice Lonesome has played his club. And the Blue Moon Gypsies shot a video there.”

  And fantastic a-fuckin’-gain.

  The dad sounded like he genuinely had his shit together.

  Deanna sat back and ran her hand over her pregnant belly.

  And there it was again.

  “Ah, hell,” Charlie muttered.

  “Can we . . . can we, do you think we could speak to him?” Izzy asked.

  “Yes. Yesyesyes,” Fonda said hurriedly. “Let me . . . I’ll take you with me to find him.”

  Iz looked to Addie.

  Addie looked to Izzy.

  “Just a second,” Fonda could be heard from the phone.

  Then nothing except the sisters shifting to sit closer together on the couch.

  “Okay, girls, he’s here. Here he is. Right here,” Fonda blathered then could be heard saying, “Take it, Harley.”

  A throat clearing and then a melodious, deep, “Girls?”

  Izzy and Addie’s heads listed until they were resting against each other.

  “Dad?” Addie called.

  “Is that . . . ?”

  “Addie.”

  “I’m here too,” Izzy said.

  “Izzy,” he whispered. “Um . . .” another clearing of the throat, “how’re you two girls doin’?”

  “We’re fine, Dad,” Addie told him.

  “David?” Margot called softly. “I need a martini, my love.”

  “On it,” David said and took off.

  “Charlie?” Deanna called, also softly. “I need a martini, my love.”

  “How about a chilled Perrier?” Charlie asked.

  Deanna rolled her eyes.

  Charlie took off.

  “Are you girls . . . not alone?” Harley Aubrey’s voice came from the phone.

  “No, we’re with family,” Izzy told him.

  “Understandable,” he said. “And good. Good. That’s good. Uh . . . is, um . . . is my grandson there?”

  “He’s outside with the babysitter,” Addie shared.

  “Yeah. Okay.” His voice was getting thicker. “Okay, girls, hold on.” Then a distant, hoarse, “Shit.”

  And Fonda was back.

  “Your dad needs a sec, girls. Is that okay?” she asked.

  “It’s okay,” Izzy said.

  “Totally okay,” Addie said.

  “So, well . . . while Harley sorts himself out, tell me about you. You girls sure dress real nice and those men you were with . . . I just, you know, I’m older, and um, well, I guess your stepmother, but . . . uh, wow.”

  Izzy and Addie started laughing.

  Goddamn fuck.

  They were gonna have to put up with that ass.

  He looked to Johnny.

  Johnny looked to him.

  “Beer?” Tobe asked.

  “Bourbon,” Johnny said.

  “I’ll get it, you stay,” Toby offered.

  Johnny nodded.

  “I’ll take some bourbon too,” Deanna called.

  That was probably the only thing that could make Toby smile.

  He gave that smile to Deanna.

  Then he moved to get bourbon as well as wine for Addie and Izzy.

  Because he reckoned, twenty-five years to catch up on, this was gonna take a while.

  “So,” he heard Fonda say as he walked out, “two sisters, two brothers, I think that’s all kinds of sweet. When Harley found out, you know, when June’s attorneys told us who would be coming with you to the reading, he was worried about you two, you know, ’cause he just kinda does that, but I told him . . .”

  Yeah.

  Fuck.

  This was gonna take a while.

  Probably years.

  And yeah, they were gonna have to put up with that ass.

  But at least Fonda sounded like she was cool.

  And Harley Aubrey sounded like he’d spent that last twenty-five years walking through hell.

  Which meant at the end of Addie and Izzy’s journey, they could come to terms with the fact they’d had Daphne, they’d had each other, they’d had love, their place, their people, their family.

  With as little as they had, they’d had it all.

  They had it better than their father.

  Far better.

  And the thing of it was, they knew that all along.

  And so did Harley Aubrey.

  So Tobe was actually feeling sorry for the guy.

  Yeah.

  Shit.

  Let Her Fly

  Addie

  Two Months Later . . .

  TOBY WOULD TELL me after, it wasn’t what they’d first planned.

  They’d done a switch up.

  Though Izzy had started that.

  So when she walked out of the mill and down the stairs toward the chairs set out in the grass to where Johnny was standing, under the arch close to the creek with Toby and his friend Ben behind him, me and Deanna across from them, she had hold of Charlie’s arm.

  But as Izzy had planned, Dave joined them at the top of the layout of chairs.

  And she held on to both as she walked down the aisle.

  Incidentally, she did this walking right by without looking at the couple three rows up from the back.

  Our father and his wife, Fonda.

  This wasn’t a slight.

  It was just that she only had eyes for Johnny.

  What she didn’t know, was that Lance, Dave Junior and Mark would help their mom up from her seat at the front on Johnny’s side so she could stand by Johnny in the final steps Izzy took toward her future husband.

  All Izzy, she had no clue what was going on, but she didn’t look freaked or confused.

  She just gave Margot a serene smile.

  She’d been just like that for weeks.

  Then again, she’d really always been like that.

  But Margot came forward, and Charlie and Dave did not put Izzy’s hand in Johnny’s.

  And I could tell from Johnny’s face this wasn’t what he expected either.<
br />
  The men gave Izzy to Margot.

  And it was Margot who put Izzy’s hand on Johnny’s.

  And then, I hated to admit it, but I lost it, though fortunately somewhat quietly, when Margot wound Mom’s braided leather headband around their hands.

  I looked to Toby.

  He winked at me.

  He was in on this shit.

  God.

  My beautiful man.

  It was Johnny who said, “No,” when Margot gave Izzy away and started to turn from them.

  He wrapped his fingers around Margot’s that were over both of their bound hands.

  Izzy did the same.

  “Please stay,” Johnny whispered.

  Margot peered up at his face only a moment before she nodded.

  Thus Margot stood there holding their hands together over Mom’s braid the whole ceremony.

  I knew it cost her. She was thin. Didn’t walk much anymore or stand long.

  But she stood through that, tall and straight.

  She only slid away to lean on David, who’d slipped up to help her back to her seat before they were pronounced man and wife and Johnny kissed his bride.

  It was the most profoundly beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  Until five weeks later.

  David was no spring chicken.

  But he carried her up there.

  He put her in and strapped her in.

  And we all stood in the grass, watching as he leaned over her and spoke.

  Then we each got turns.

  And when I walked up, she lightly touched my hand and asked quietly, “Is my scarf tied tight, child?”

  I checked the beautiful, voluminous scarf that was wrapped around the pretty fluff of white hair that had grown back.

  It was tied tight at her neck.

  When I assured her of this, she said, “I’ll give her your love, my beautiful girl.”

  I nodded, the tears gathering.

  But she hated that.

  So I held them in check.

  “Thank you for looking after him,” she said.

  “I will, forever and ever, and ever and always,” I promised, my voice funny, husky.

  “I know you will, darlin’.”

  I could take no more, and she could take less, so I bent to her and kissed her cheek and told her I loved her before I walked back down the wing.

  The second to last to go up was David again.

  They didn’t speak long.

  I only allowed myself to start crying when he lifted her hand to his lips and held it there for what seemed like forever.