“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.
Only she hadn’t. She and Nigel had a professional service that came in and decorated their place at Christmas with carefully coordinated trees and garland. Their house had been a showpiece at the holidays—not a place the carousel belonged at all.
She admired it now, stroking one of the horses and wishing it would come to life and take her far, far away. So far that her heart wouldn’t be broken anymore and she could think about what was going to happen without a growing sense of dread.
* * *
Saturday morning, after the nice young couple who had bought her bedroom set left, Ali dusted the baseboards and vacuumed the carpet. Once that was done, she carried in moving boxes that she would have to, at some point, fill. Maybe when she had a place to move to.
She couldn’t shake a sense of impending doom and knew that it had nothing to do with her situation. She was still trying to take in what had happened with Finola. How could Nigel have cheated with Treasure? Ali was as much a fan of the country-pop star as the next person, but jeez, not when you were married, and certainly not when you were married to Finola.
She was still trying to figure it all out when Daniel arrived. She opened the front door and said, “You can’t tell anyone. You have to totally promise not to say a word. Please, I need to talk about this and there’s no one else I can trust and just say you won’t repeat it or anything.”
As she spoke, he dropped the backpack he carried onto the floor, then closed the door behind himself and pulled her into a hug.
“Ali, what’s wrong? I won’t say anything. I swear. Just tell me.”
He felt so good, she thought, clinging to him, letting his warmth and strength seep into her. She didn’t care if he thought she was needy or weird or if he felt he totally got why Glen had dumped her. Right now she needed him.
She took his hand and led him to the sofa. When they were both seated, she stared into his dark eyes and said, “Nigel left Finola for another woman. He’s having an affair. I don’t know if it’s serious or he’s just playing around, but he left her!”
Daniel’s expression shifted from worried and confused to sympathetic. “I’m sorry to hear that. She’s got to be upset.”
“No, you don’t understand. This is Finola. She and Nigel love each other. They have a great marriage. They belong together. You just had to be around them for a few minutes to know they were the ones who were going to be together forever. And he cheated on her. If Finola can’t keep Nigel, then there’s no hope for the rest of us.”
“Slow down, Ali. You’re extrapolating way too much from what happened. You’re understandably upset. She’s your sister and you love her. Plus, you’re going through some crap of your own, so this is really hard. But the state of Finola’s marriage doesn’t affect anyone else’s relationship.”
His words probably made sense, but she wasn’t in the mood to listen. “What is wrong with your gender? Halle Berry’s husband cheated on her. And Beyoncé. Why would anyone cheat on Beyoncé? Men are stupid. I’m sorry to say it, but there it is.”
Daniel surprised her by smiling. “We are stupid. I’m really sorry about Finola and I won’t say anything to anyone. You have my word.”
“It’s because she’s on TV. There could be press.” There would be press when the whole Treasure thing came out, but while Ali was willing to spill some secrets, she couldn’t share them all—not even with Daniel.
They were still holding hands. She wasn’t sure how that had happened, but his hand was in hers or vice versa. He stroked his fingers against hers, as if offering comfort. At least she assumed that was what it was. Regardless, his touch was nice. Like him.
“You’re being so good to me,” she said softly. “Through all of this. I really appreciate it. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I’m sorry for the circumstances, but I’m happy to be here. I mean that, Ali.”
She smiled. “I believe you, but it’s so strange. Until Glen dumped me, you were always so stern and it seemed as if you didn’t want to be in the same room as me. Remember the first time we met? We went to lunch.”
“At The Cheesecake Factory at the Sherman Oaks Galleria. I remember. It was a Sunday, last November. A couple of weeks before Thanksgiving.”
She stared at him. “That’s either impressive or scary. How could you remember that? I knew it was last year, but that was about it.” She laughed. “Next you’ll be telling me I had on a blue dress.”