Castles in the Sand Page 4

  All in all Susan thought the evening a spectacular success. She didn’t stop grinning and tapping a foot from the moment of their energetic opening downbeat until the next morning when Drake announced things had been just a bit too wild, a bit too vague when it came to the gospel, not quite suitable for his tender flock.

  Soon after that, their youth pastor resigned. A mega-church in Texas hired him. Kenzie had seen him last year when Glory Traxxx performed there. He was happy.

  Some days, when Drake was at the office, Susan listened to the cassette recording Kenzie had given her. She would grin, tap her foot, and feel astonishment at her daughter’s voice coming through the sound system.

  A woman approached. Her appearance fit the memory of Pepper Carlucci: shorter than average, not fat but roundish in a pleasant way, black hair cut almost as short as a man’s and not styled, really. A small toddler accompanied this woman, though. Surely at her age—

  “Susan?” Still several feet away, the woman called loudly and waved. “Is that you?”

  Susan lifted a hand in greeting.

  The towheaded child skipped alongside her. A boy? His hair curled to his shoulders, and he wore overalls with a long-sleeved red plaid flannel shirt. Mrs. Carlucci wore denim as well, jeans and a white tunic top.

  Susan felt self-conscious in her floral skirt and blazer. She probably looked stiff and formal.

  They neared. The woman shifted an oversized canvas bag to the other shoulder and held out a hand. “Hello.” A smile lit up her entire face, and her blue eyes seemed to dance. “I’m Pepper.”

  She returned the smile and shook her hand. “Hello. And who is this?” She crouched down until face-to-face with the child.

  He held out his hand before she could offer hers and smiled into her eyes. “I’m Mickerson Matthew Carlucci Junior. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mickerson Matthew Carlucci Junior. I’m Susan.” She took his little hand into hers and couldn’t help but giggle.

  He glanced up at his mother, a look of concern on his face.

  “I told him we’re meeting Mrs. Starr.”

  “Well, Mickerson, I am Mrs. Starr, but you may call me Susan if you like.”

  “You can call me Mickey.”

  “All right. How old are you, Mickey?”

  “Four, Susan.”

  “My, you are the most polite four-year-old I have ever met.”

  “Thank you.” He smiled. “Mickey Senior says I’m a prodigy.”

  Pepper groaned. “Prodigy. Nemesis. The jury is still out.”

  He turned. “Mom, is it time for my Starbucks muffin treat?”

  Susan laughed with Pepper and an odd thought struck her. Would her grandchild be as cute as Mickerson Matthew Carlucci Junior?

  They sat outdoors in the sunshine.

  Susan thought Mickey was a perfect buffer. His precocious conversation eased them through the first awkward moments of meeting. By the time they sat at a patio table and Pepper unloaded a bagful of books, markers, and miniature trucks, Susan felt able to sip her herbal tea without choking.

  “Pepper, how many children do you have?”

  “Six. Do you believe it?” She chuckled. “Aidan is the oldest, and—thank goodness—Mickey is the youngest.”

  The boy, engrossed in drawing and eating his muffin, didn’t respond.

  Pepper said, “We have the twins, Lisel and Sari. They’re working on their masters’ at UCLA. When they were in middle school, we started our second family.” Her smiled was self-deprecating. “Carys is ten, Davita is six.”

  “I’m sorry. I mean, I’m not sorry that you have six—I think that’s wonderful—we never could have more—Anyway, I’m sorry I don’t know anything about you. Kenzie never mentioned being…well, I just didn’t know she was particularly interested in your son. She spoke of him, of course, as a band member. As the leader, the songwriter. My, he is talented. Are all six of yours prodigies?” The perky tone reared its ugly inflection complete with chimp chatter.

  But Pepper chuckled again. “Not exactly. Aidan is gifted in music, like Kenzie. Her voice belongs to an angel. And her fingers fly across a keyboard like it’s an extension of herself.”

  “She’s played by ear since she was four.”

  “Well, you have a prodigy for sure. Her lead vocals are my favorite of all their songs.” She smiled. “You were saying you didn’t know Kenzie and Aidan were an item?”

  “She never spoke of him in…in that way.”

  “Their friendship just seemed to develop naturally. You know, from working together. Aidan moved out of the house ages ago, but sometimes the band still practices in our garage. Sometimes they just hang out, like family. Our home is what you’d call laid-back. Really laid-back. I guess with six kids it has to be. People come and go at all hours, all days of the week. After a while, I noticed Kenzie would come and go even if the band wasn’t around.”

  Susan bit her lip and waited a moment for her vocal chords to untangle. “So you’ve known her for some time.”

  “Yes.”

  And I don’t know Aidan because they didn’t hang out at our house. They didn’t do that because…because why?

  Kenzie and that independent nature of hers was why! She rarely came herself and only called sporadically.

  She said, “When did they start dating?”

  Pepper shrugged. “A year ago, maybe.”

  A year. A whole year and she didn’t know? What else didn’t she know? “Did they…did they live together?”

  Pepper turned to her son. “Mickey, you can go run around. Just stay between those tables and that wall there. Okay?”

  “Okay,” he mumbled, brushing crumbs from his mouth. “Thanks for the treat. ’Scuse me.” He grabbed a handful of trucks and hopped down from the chair.

  Pepper turned to Susan. “As far as I know they did not live together.”

  “He thanked you!”

  “What?”

  “Mickey just thanked you and excused himself!”

  “He’s a polite little thing.”

  “He’s amazing.”

  “He has five siblings who think they’re surrogate parents. We seem to share the role. Someday, though, we will have to let him go and he will make his own decisions.”

  The shift in Pepper’s tone drew Susan back to the subject at hand.

  “Aidan has been making most of his own for years now.” She paused. “I saw no evidence in his apartment that Kenzie was living with him. I think he would have told me. I do know they fell in love somewhere along the way. They’re crazy about each other. One thing led to another and now here we are.”

  “But Kenzie is a Christian!” The words tumbled out, at last naming a confusion that had plagued her since January first. “Your son writes worship music!” Maybe it wasn’t worship music. Maybe Drake was right. He had studied Aidan’s lyrics. Maybe the opaque references to love and peace and joy had nothing whatsoever to do with God.

  Pepper tilted her head in a questioning gesture. “Yeah?”

  “Well, I think something is terribly wrong with this picture!”

  “You think Christians don’t stumble?”

  Susan blinked. “How…how can you condone what they’ve done? What they’re doing?”

  “Oh, goodness.” Pepper laughed in disbelief. “I don’t condone it. They’ve made some incredibly stupid decisions and created humongous bumps in their road. They’ve done things their own way, kind of like a hundred percent of the world’s population does. But I accept these two children of ours.” Her tone grew urgent, almost argumentative. “They are wounded human beings who are bringing another one into the world who will need that same acceptance and not condemnation for being born.”

  Susan’s heart pounded. “What about consequences? How can they learn from their mistakes if we simply welcome them with open arms? That communicates they can do whatever they please.”

  Pepper opened her mouth and then quickly shut it. Her lips disappeared as i
f she were pulling them inward and sealing them together. She closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Susan, I’m sometimes accused of being too blunt. Tact just isn’t one of my gifts. I blame my parents. I mean, for goodness’ sake they named me ‘Pepper.’ My personality was doomed from day one to be irritating. Please forgive me if I come across hurtful. I don’t mean to.”

  What on earth…? “All…all right.”

  “I think the question is, does Jesus welcome us with open arms? With our faults? Did He die on the cross for us because we did everything right?”

  “No, of course not, but…but what does that have to do with Kenzie’s situation?” Susan felt as though she was racing through a maze, turning one blind corner after another and getting nowhere.

  “You kicked Kenzie out of the house. On a cold rainy night. Without a car.”

  An overwhelming sense of horror slammed into her like a physical blow to the chest. Hearing the truth from a stranger multiplied the awfulness of what she had done.

  Pepper said, “I’m sorry. In all fairness, she said you didn’t kick her out that night. She’s the one who decided to leave right then. She knew Aidan was waiting outside in his car for her.”

  Aidan was waiting? Thank goodness.

  “And Kenzie said it was her dad who sent her, not you.”

  “But,” she whispered, “I sat there and let it happen.”

  Compassion etched furrows in Pepper’s brow, around her mouth.

  A sense of loss overwhelmed Susan. “I miss her. I think I’ve missed her for years. She never was around much and then she moved out right after high school…”

  “She is a strong, determined young woman. I didn’t even have to suggest she see a doctor. She found a clinic for low-income women.”

  A flush crept up her neck. Drake made a decent salary! Their daughter shouldn’t have to go to a clinic! How absurd! Should she give Pepper money? But he would never approve. Not welcome in their home meant not one penny would go to Kenzie or toward the baby’s care.

  “Susan.” Pepper’s voice grew soft. “Kenzie said to tell you that she misses you.”

  The words thwacked her like another harsh blow. In about two seconds she was going to fall apart.

  Quickly, Susan twisted around and unhooked her handbag from the back of the chair. In one swift motion she shoved the seat from the table and stood. “I must go.”

  Without one polite phrase or even a glance in Pepper’s direction, she hurried away.

  Six

  “Oh, man!” Pepper groaned and slid down the chair until her nose was level with the table. She spoke aloud, oblivious to people sitting nearby in the food court. “I did not mean to do that! I told You, Lord! I told You. You shouldn’t have trusted me with this one. I wanted to stick it to her, and I did. I surely did.”

  “Mom?” Mickey tugged at her arm.

  “Hi, honey.” She widened her eyes at him and met his gaze. “Do you see a log in one of my eyes?”

  Somberly he inspected each and then he shook his head. “Nope. No log.”

  She smiled. “Thanks.” At the prodigious rate he was growing, he’d gain spiritual eyes soon enough and be only too eager to point out all sorts of logs.

  “Where’s Susan?”

  “She had to go home. How about we pack up your toys and shop?”

  He scrunched his nose in distaste.

  “To buy a maternity shirt for Kenzie.”

  “For Kenzie? Yay!” As fast as his short legs would carry him, he tore off and collected the trucks he’d parked around the area.

  He so obviously loved Kenzie. What was wrong with her parents?

  “Oh, Lord. As I was saying, I am sorry.”

  Pepper raised a hand and then held it aloft, knuckles bent inches from the door. Dropping in unannounced at Aidan’s apartment had taken on a whole new complicated dimension. Visions danced in her head. They were of herself and Mick as newlyweds behind closed doors and not expecting the in-laws.

  Nope. The situation was not quite the same. She wasn’t an in-law. The kids were not newlyweds. They had no business acting as such.

  Eww. If that didn’t smack of a Reverend Drake Starr judgmental attitude, she didn’t know what did.

  Beneath her raised arm, little Mickey whomped his body against the door and banged his fist on it. “Kenzie! Open up!”

  He must have drained his courtesy tank on Susan. “Mickerson, that is not polite.”

  “Oops. Sorry.”

  Kenzie opened the door, a wide grin across her face, and knelt. “Mickey J!”

  The boy jumped right into her arms, not slowed in the least by the shopping bag in his hand.

  Thank You, Pepper breathed a prayer of relief. Kenzie’s hair was in place, each spiky spring goop-laden to perfection. She was completely dressed in black jeans and a gray midriff sweater that hit just above the slightly rounded tummy. She wore shoes even. Those chunky heels. Murder on a back supporting a baby. Give her a couple months—

  “Hi, Pepper. Come on in.”

  “Hi.” She smiled. “Don’t mean to interrupt.”

  “You’re not. I’m just getting ready for work.” She shut the door behind them. “I am so not a morning person. Thank goodness the coffee shop keeps me on the afternoon/evening shift. Sit down.”

  Pepper crossed the dinky living room and noticed that the door to the bedroom was shut. She pictured Aidan behind it, headset on, playing the electronic keyboard—its sound off—and composing music. Worship music. Nontraditional, but still a proclamation that God offered hope to everyone.

  Mickey jumped up and down. “Kenzie! Kenzie! Open this.” He pushed the shopping bag at her. “It’s a tourney shirt!”

  Pepper laughed and sat on a worn secondhand upholstered chair. “There goes that surprise.”

  Kenzie sat cross-legged on the threadbare carpet and dug into the bag. “Tourney shirt?” She pulled out a red plaid flannel. “Mickey! It’s just like yours!”

  He shook his head vehemently. “No. It’s a tourney shirt. Boys don’t wear tourney shirts.”

  Kenzie raised her brows at Pepper.

  “Maternity.” She eyed Kenzie’s bare midriff again.

  “Maternity? Really? Oh, wow! My very first!” She slid her arms into it. “Thank you!”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Kenzie sprang to her feet and whirled around. “It’s great. I’ll wear it today.” She leaned over and hugged Pepper. “Thank you. And thank you.” She knelt to squeeze Mickey.

  He squeezed her back, and she held him tight, her eyes shut.

  In that pose, Kenzie resembled her mother. It was not so much a physical thing but rather a vague impression. Both women sent out a subtle message of vulnerability. Fragility.

  Pepper thought too of how they responded to Mickey in the same way, crouching down to his level, conversing with him like the real person he was. They both expressed obvious enjoyment of his personality. Not everyone did that. Then there was the hair. Granted Susan’s was in an uptight-style bun that fit her personality and Kenzie’s in its wild springs and a different color, but each was styled in such a way that held every hair perfectly in place.

  Interesting. Like mother, like daughter.

  Uh-oh.

  The bedroom door opened and Aidan entered the living room. “Hey, Mom. Mickey, my man!”

  Her youngest rushed at her oldest. They exchanged high and low fives before Aidan grabbed Mickey in a hug and lifted him toward the ceiling. The fact they had just seen each other the previous night didn’t hamper their enthusiastic greeting.

  Pepper waited. Finally Mickey settled into a corner with a stack of books. Aidan and Kenzie sat on the only other seat in the room—a fourth-hand loveseat of no identifiable color—and turned their attention to her. Expectant.

  Well, yes, that was the word. In more ways than one.

  “How’d it go, Mom?” Aidan took Kenzie’s hand.

  “Fairly…all right. We got to know each other a little better. Bottom li
ne, she is upset about sending you away, Kenzie. The guilt is eating her up.”

  “She said that?”

  “Not exactly.” She thought of the moment Susan’s mask slipped and her preacher-wife tone disintegrated. “She got very real when I said—almost in the same breath—that Jesus welcomes us to the cross when we’re in our direst need and that she sent you away.”

  Aidan thrust a fist in the air. “Way to go, Mom!”

  “No, not way to go, Mom. I got huffy. I hate being huffy. I especially don’t want to be huffy with Kenzie’s mother, with your semi-mother-in-law. Good grief, in the near future we’ll have to share the same waiting room in the maternity ward. Not to mention birthday parties and holidays for the rest of our lives.”

  Kenzie’s mouth formed an O shape. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  It’s called consequences, my dear. “Anyway, I broke the ice. I filled her in on how you are. I found out she’s hurting and regrets her actions. But the next step is up to you.” She pressed her lips together before another huffy tone slipped out.

  “Did she have my dog with her?”

  “No.”

  “I bet Pugsy is there, though, at the beach house. Dad would never take care of him. Actually it’s really weird Mom’s at the beach without Dad. They always go right after Easter. My Aunt Nattie and Uncle Rex rent the house for them.” She smiled. “It’s a funky place. You’d never guess it was south of the Mission restaurant. It looks like a squished red chili behind a white picket fence. Right on the boardwalk between all this cool modern stuff.”

  So the house didn’t belong to the Starrs. They didn’t even pay for the rent. Okay. I can live with that.

  Kenzie went on. “Mom loves it, but I can’t believe she’s there by herself. She never does anything without my dad. Why would he allow her to go alone?”

  Allow her? Eww.

  The girl shook her head. “I know I’ve hurt her. Hurt both of them. But I always seem to hurt them without even trying. I’ve never lived up to their standards. They hate my music. They—”

  “Hon,” Pepper said, “back up to ‘I know I’ve hurt her.’ Start and stop right there.”