The Art of Starting Over

The next afternoon, Devy rushed down the stairs to answer the landline her father still insisted on using. His reasoning was valid. He was the town sheriff, and because everyone already had his home number, he didn’t need to make everyone memorize his cell phone. Crow had one of those as well, but he hardly used it.

“Hello?” she answered, out of breath. Next time, she’d let the answering machine pick up. She didn’t need to exert herself when the call wouldn’t be for her.

“Hey, it’s Colt.”

“Hi. What are you doing? Where are you?” She still hadn’t seen her brother and didn’t have any desire to go into the Lazy Lamb to see him. Mostly because she was embarrassed and afraid people would know why she was back in town. She supposed they’d already figured it out, since her daughter was enrolled in school and her husband was nowhere to be found.

“Yeah, sorry. I keep meaning to come in, but by the time I get home, everyone’s asleep, and then I leave first thing.”

Devorah hadn’t been asleep. She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since the night before her life turned upside down.

“Anyway,” Colt continued. “What are you doing? Do you want to meet up for dinner?”

Devy turned and looked around the kitchen, which had things for her to make, but she was so wrapped up in her thoughts she hadn’t gotten around to it.

“Where?”

“Down here at the Lazy Lamb.”

“Maren—”

“Can come too. It’s a pub, not a bar. She’s allowed.”

Being out in public wasn’t ideal. She hadn’t showered, which meant she hadn’t done her hair. Devy had already run into Hayden yesterday and didn’t really want to see anyone else.

“I don’t know, Colt. I—”

“It’s dead down here, Dev. And I really want to see my niece.”

She thought for a moment and then finally nodded. “I need to shower.”

“Okay, take your time. Do you remember where it’s at?”

“Yes.” It was hard to forget when the town was so small. Oyster Bay was one of those places where, if you got lost, which was near impossible, you followed the snow evacuation route to the water. Then you’d find your way again.

Devorah hung up, went back upstairs, and found Maren in her room, reading a book.

“Hey,” Dev said as she leaned against the doorjamb. “Uncle Colt would like us to come down to his pub for dinner.”

“Okay,” Maren said as she closed her book. “Are you . . .” She stopped talking and sighed.

“Am I going to get dressed?”

Maren nodded, and her lower lip quivered. Devorah went into the room and sat next to her daughter. “I know I’m a broken mess.”

“It’s okay, Mom.”

Devy gave her a weak smile. “It’s not. I want to feel better. I’m trying.”

“I’ll help.”

She kissed her daughter on her forehead. “You help by being here with me. I’m going to shower, and then we’ll go.”

“Okay.”

In the shared bathroom, Devy started the water. She held her hand under the stream until it turned warm, undressed, and then stepped in. The last shower she’d taken, she’d stood in there and cried, the rushing water easily drowning out her sobs. She wasn’t lying when she’d told Maren she was broken. Everything hurt, and her heart no longer beat the way she remembered it. Now, it felt dull and lifeless. Foreign. It didn’t belong in her anymore.

Maren’s shampoo sat on the windowsill. Devy poured some into her hand and inhaled the coconut-and-vanilla scent. Tears of joy came instantly. She would be nothing without Maren, and it wasn’t fair to her nine-year-old to have to support her.

Devorah managed to wash and condition her hair, as well as coat her body in Maren’s sweet-smelling body soap. She washed, rinsed, and felt slightly better than she had an hour ago. After turning the water off, she got out, dried off, and then went into her room. On her bed were a pair of jeans and a sweater. She couldn’t help but smile as she looked toward the wall, where her daughter was on the other side. If she didn’t have Maren, she’d be so lost.

“I’ll be ready in fifteen,” she yelled, knowing Maren could hear her. When Devorah and Colt were younger, they constantly yelled back and forth instead of getting up and going to each other’s room to talk. Their parents hated it, but it was an easy form of communication for them.

“May I come in?” Maren asked. Devy slipped the sweater over her head and looked toward the bathroom door, where she suspected her daughter to be. She wasn’t. Dev took a few steps toward the shared bathroom and leaned to the side and saw Maren standing in the doorway on her side of the bathroom.

“Of course.”

Maren walked in, wearing jeans and a similar sweater. “You look refreshed.”

“Thanks. Are you mothering me?”

Maren nodded and inhaled deeply. Dev knew this was her daughter’s way of warding off tears. Chad had hated it when Maren would cry over anything he thought was trivial, so Maren had taught herself to “suck it up,” according to her father.

Devy held her arms out for her daughter. They hugged tightly, each rubbing a hand down the other’s back. “I’m just so sad. I think Daddy is sad too.”

She froze at her daughter’s words. How would Maren know Chad was sad? He hadn’t called, which only exacerbated how Dev felt about him. He should have been calling his daughter every day, checking in, and seeing how she was coping after his epic failure as a man.

“What do you mean?” She leaned back slightly but not enough to let go of her daughter. Maren was her lifeline. Her reason for being any semblance of human these days.

“Daddy called while you were in the shower.”

“Wha—” Devorah caught herself. This was a good thing—him calling to talk to Maren—but it stung. Dev was sad. Angry. Confused. Pissed off. And every emotion in between. Days had passed, and Chad hadn’t even reached out. At least that was what she’d thought.

Deep down, Devy had expected him to and hoped he would. She wanted to hear his voice, hear him tell her how sorry he was for everything, to listen to him cry on the phone and say how he missed her and Maren and wanted them to come home. Those words needed to come from him to her.

He would never. Groveling and accepting responsibility were beneath him.

As much as it pained her, she had to put her feelings toward Chad aside and do what was best for their daughter. Maren was the only priority.

Devorah inhaled deeply, looked into her daughter’s eyes, and cupped her cheek softly. “Did you have a good chat with your dad?”

Maren shrugged. “He asked a lot of questions about Oyster Bay. You and Grandpa.”

“Did he ask about school? How you are?”

She shook her head.

Devy’s heart sank for her daughter.

“He asked if we were done visiting.”

Visiting? Is that what Chad thought they were doing?

Devorah ran her hand down Maren’s silky hair. “I’m glad you got to speak to him.”

Maren nodded and rested her head on her mother’s chest, hugging her tighter.

Once they returned to Chicago, Devorah would do so with more questions than answers. Being in Oyster Bay was nothing more than an escape from the scrutiny and finger-pointing.

The two parted, and Devorah finished dressing before following Maren into the bathroom. Maren plugged the hairdryer in and motioned for her mom to sit on the toilet. Devy closed her eyes and tried to relax while Maren brushed and dried her hair. She thought about Chad, Maren, and herself as a family and tried to recall happy memories.

They’d had some lovely family vacations—vacations where Chad would spend hours supposedly working, and Devorah and Maren would go out on their own to explore wherever they were.

Family vacations that included Ester because she was all alone when Rita went to her father’s house during vacations.

Realization hit Devorah square in the chest. When Chad worked, Ester never felt well. It was never Dev, Maren, and Ester.

Ever.

Devorah wanted to throw up. Chad was a liar, and he’d ruined every happy memory she had. The affair was right there in front of her face, but she’d been too blind and trusting to see everything. She forced the nausea down and focused on the fact that she and Maren were together.

The sensation of Maren’s fingers running through her hair, mixed with the soft sounds of the hairdryer, almost lulled her to sleep. Her eyes snapped open when everything stopped.

“Can I put a little makeup on?”noveldrama

“Sure. Do you want me to do it for you?”

Maren nodded. They switched places, and Devorah put some blush on Maren’s cheeks, added a light dusting of eye shadow on her lids, and coated her lips in a soft baby-pink gloss. She told her daughter to blot and aimed the tissue at her lips.

“You’re really so beautiful, you’ll probably never need makeup.”

“Like you?”

“Yeah.” Devorah smiled softly. “I never really wore much until college.”

“Mr. Raze says he knows you.”

“I’m not surprised. Oyster Bay is a small place. Everyone knows everyone. You’ll figure it out soon enough, especially since you’re Crow’s granddaughter.”

“Do I have to try out for the Pearl of the Bay pageant?”

“Pearl of the Ocean.” Devy rested her hip against the sink and shook her head as she appraised her daughter. She looked a lot like Devy had at that age but was much wiser. “You have a lot of years before you have to even think about the pageant. It all starts when you’re in the ninth grade. Unless it’s changed.”

“Will we still be here?”

Devy’s shoulders lifted. “I don’t know, Maren. Probably not. We’re just here . . .” Dev trailed off and then added, “Come on, we should go.” She went back to the bedroom, slipped into some shoes, and looked around her room for her purse. When she didn’t see it on her dresser or the pile of crap on the chair, she lifted the blankets off her unmade bed.

“Where in the hell is it?”

“What are looking for?”

“My purse. Did you take it?” She dropped to the ground to look under the bed.

“I saw it downstairs,” Maren said as she headed toward the door. “I believe on the table.”

Devorah couldn’t recall leaving it down there, but she also couldn’t remember bringing it upstairs or taking it out of her car.

Downstairs, she followed Maren to the dining room, where Devorah found her purse. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

She smirked at her daughter. “Come on, let’s go see Uncle Colt.”

The walk from Crow’s house to the Lazy Lamb took a whole five minutes. Devy held the door and motioned for her daughter to go in first. As soon as Maren stepped in, Colt let out a very loud welcome.

“My niece is finally in my bar!”

“Pub,” Devy said. “You told me it was a pub.”

“Same thing to me.” Colt came around the bar and pulled Maren into a bear hug, lifting her off the ground and swinging her around. After he put her down, he went to his sister. Devy braced herself for the same level of attention, but Colt simply brought her into his fold and hugged her tightly. “If you had called, I would’ve come and got you,” he whispered in her ear.

Devorah knew this, which was why she hadn’t called her brother. If she had, Colt not only would have come to get her and Maren, but he also would’ve made sure that Chad knew how badly he’d messed up.

“Uncle Colt, can I go behind the bar?” Maren asked, getting his attention.

Colt turned and shook his head. “No, ma’am. Come on, let’s sit down and order food. I’m starving.” He draped his arm over Devy’s shoulders and guided her to a table. “This one works.”

As they sat down, Devorah looked around, remembering the Lazy Lamb from when she was a teen. Not much had changed, except Colt owned the place now. The seating area was still a mix of tables or booths, and thankfully the vinyl on the booth wasn’t cracked or peeling. The walls were still adorned with an array of Oyster Bay memorabilia, from photographs of all the high school teams to various bowling, dart-throwing, and fishing competitions. Of course, somewhere on the walls were Devy’s photos from being Pearl of the Ocean four years running. She couldn’t wait for Maren to find those.

People she probably knew sat at the bar, drinking beer, cocktails, soda, or water. Some munched on appetizers, while others ate full meals. A few watched the television in the corner, while others chatted to their stool neighbors. The Lazy Lamb was busy, and seeing this warmed Devy. She wanted her brother to succeed.

They sat down, and a waitress brought them menus.

“Wow, you have staff?” Devy said as she opened the menu.

“I do. It’s strange. I never thought I’d be able to have my own place. My own beer is on tap. People come in all the time. They love the food. The atmosphere. The live music on Friday nights.”

“I’m proud of you.” Devy reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Does Dad come down?”

Colt nodded. “Yep. He’s a regular. Sits at the bar, in the same spot.”

“Can I have a spot?” Maren asked.

“You can only sit at the bar if your mom sits there with you.”

Maren’s eyes widened, and she glanced at her mom. “Can we?”

Colt laughed. “I’ll bring you down when we’re not open and teach you how to make your own Shirley Temples.”

“Can I put the cherry in?”

“You can have all the cherries you want.”

Later, when they were home, Devy would tell her brother that, in a matter of minutes, he’d managed to make her daughter smile brightly for the first time since everything with Chad had gone down. Devorah was grateful for him.

They ordered, and while they waited for their food, Colt took Maren to play arcade games and select songs from the jukebox. Devy sat back and sort of zoned out. She could hear people around her, coming and going, laughing and having a good time, but they were all a blur. She had tucked herself into the corner, hoping to avoid anyone seeing or recognizing her.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Her eyes cleared and focused on a little boy, and then she saw the man next to him. She sat up and cleared her throat. Hayden stood there with his hand on, presumably, his son’s shoulder. Her wish of being left alone had gone out the window, but she had to admit to herself it was nice to see another friendly(ish) face, even if the last time she’d seen him, she was crying her eyes out in his truck. Still, she wasn’t sure she was in the mood to socialize.

“Devorah, this is my son, Conor,” Hayden said proudly as he glanced at his boy. “Conor, this is Mrs. Campbell.” The young man stuck his hand out to shake hers. It caught her off guard, and she slowly extended hers.

“You can call me Devy,” she said quietly to Conor.

“Are you Maren’s mom?”

Devy nodded. “She’s in the back with her uncle.” She pointed toward the game area.

“Dad, may I go say hi?”

“Sure, bud. I’ll be right here.”

As soon as Conor ran off, Hayden sat down. Devy sat up straighter and wished she had said no to dinner. Being out in public wasn’t her idea of a good time right now, and having to put on a facade for Hayden didn’t register high on her social meter. Curled up in bed, wallowing in self-pity was more her speed at the moment. And Hayden seemed so chipper, which was in contrast to her demeanor. Why would he want to sit and talk with someone as down as her?

“How are you?”

She looked at him for a long moment, wondering how she was supposed to answer. “I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. Devy clasped her hands in her lap. “I’m here, which is something.”

Hayden looked around. “My dad said Colt had bought this place. How does he like it?”

“Loves it. He’s very proud of it.” Devy looked around and then back at Hayden. As soon as they made eye contact, she looked at the table. “Is your dad still the town doc?”

“Nah, he’s retired and living the dream.”

“Which is?”

“To annoy my mother.” Hayden laughed. “They travel a lot, or they did. I don’t know that they will until I get my house built.”

“Where are you building?”

“Do you remember the orchard?”

Devy nodded.

“I bought a couple of acres there.”

“And you’re building your house?”

“Not exactly. I’ll be there to hold a nail or two. I hired a contractor. I’m good with a hammer, but even I have to draw the line somewhere.”

“Where did you live before coming back here?”

“Wyoming. I was a deputy in a town smaller than Oyster Bay. When I wasn’t chasing horse thieves, I worked on a ranch for Sofia’s family.”

The waitress returned with her dinner, followed by Colt, Maren, and Conor.

“Mom!” Maren’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with excitement. “This is my friend Conor. We’re in class together, and he just moved here too.”

Devorah smiled. “Maren, this is Hayden, Conor’s dad and Uncle Colt’s best friend.”

“So cool. Can they have dinner with us?”

Before Devy could say no, Colt spoke up: “Sure they can!” He moved a table next to their booth and sat down. The waitress came over, took Hayden’s and Conor’s drink orders, and said she’d be right back. Devorah wanted to go home and crawl into bed.

“Mr. Hayden, do you think Conor could come over this weekend? My grandpa won’t mind.”

Devorah opened her mouth to tell Maren they had plans. Before she could find the words, though, Conor spoke up. “I would love to.”

Despite wanting privacy, Devy wouldn’t tell her daughter no. She caught Hayden staring at her and offered him her weakest smile.

“Mom, can Conor and I go back to the arcade?”

Devorah nodded. “Go have fun.”