Mom climbed the bottom few steps, her head emerging through the opening in the floor. “Is that it? Here, hand it down to me.”
Tori scooted the box across the dusty plywood. “Be careful. It’s not heavy, but it’s awkward.”
“I’ll just slide it down the stairs. Ummph.”
Mom jumped backward as she lost her grip on the box and it tumbled down the rickety wooden stairs. Tori held her breath, certain the flaps would come open and the contents would spill out. But they held, thank goodness.
Light glinted off Mom’s glasses as she turned a grin upward. “Well, that’s one way to do it.”
Tori pulled the string, plunging the attic into darkness, and descended backward to the floor. While Mom put the stairs away, she ducked into the bathroom with her shirt and performed a quick clean-up job on skin that smelled like stale coffee. She emerged to find Mom trying to wrangle the box down the hallway, and rushed forward.
“Let’s each grab an end.”
They hefted their load through the house, out the door, and to Tori’s car. The sun had started its descent in an expanse of bright blue sky, but there were still several hours of daylight left. Good, because she didn’t enjoy driving the rural roads between Danville and Lexington in the dark.
“How are you going to get it in your apartment?” Mom asked when they’d stored the box in the trunk.
“Oh, I’ll get a couple of friends to help.” Tori looped the key ring around her finger and jingled. “Mom, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
Tori didn’t look at her. “Why do you think Daddy never tried to get in touch with us?”
She kept her gaze fixed on the grass, but saw Mom stiffen out of the corner of her eye. Since the day Daddy left, he’d become a taboo subject around the Sanderson house. Mom never discussed him, and the few times the girls had tried to ask her about him during those first lonely months, she’d looked like she was barely able to contain her anger. After a few tentative attempts early on, they’d reached an unspoken agreement not to bring up his name.
“I don’t know.” Mom’s voice was tight. After a moment’s silence she went on in a resigned tone. “But I suspect it was because he didn’t want to pay child support.”
That’s what Allie said the last time they talked about it.
“You could have made him, you know.” Tori let anger creep into her voice. “There are laws about that.”
She glanced up in time to see Mom’s shoulders heave with a silent laugh. “They were harder to enforce fifteen years ago. And besides”—she crossed her arms, her hands gripping her elbows—“we did okay without his help. Didn’t we?”
Mom’s slender neck seemed even longer than usual as her chin rose into the air. No doubt she’d faced some tough times raising three girls on her own. She’d had to swallow her pride when she moved them in with her parents so she could go to college and get her nursing degree. And she had provided the best home she could, had surrounded her girls with love. Tori felt a renewed rush of admiration for her.
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her mother. “We did just fine.”
Mom returned her embrace, and then a soft sigh tickled the top of Tori’s head. “He might also have been trying to avoid me. The last time I saw him . . . Well, we didn’t part on the best of terms.”
“That’s no excuse for deserting his children.”
“Of course it isn’t.” Mom stepped back, her hands resting on Tori’s shoulders as she searched her face. “Whatever his reason, it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”
Tori’s head dipped as she looked at the ground. Maybe it was her fault, a little. Maybe if she’d acted happier to see him when he came to pick them up. Or if she hadn’t stayed with Mom that day.
Mom gripped her chin in a finger and thumb and tilted it upward until Tori was looking at her. “It wasn’t your fault, Tori. You were a child. Your
Tori scooted the box across the dusty plywood. “Be careful. It’s not heavy, but it’s awkward.”
“I’ll just slide it down the stairs. Ummph.”
Mom jumped backward as she lost her grip on the box and it tumbled down the rickety wooden stairs. Tori held her breath, certain the flaps would come open and the contents would spill out. But they held, thank goodness.
Light glinted off Mom’s glasses as she turned a grin upward. “Well, that’s one way to do it.”
Tori pulled the string, plunging the attic into darkness, and descended backward to the floor. While Mom put the stairs away, she ducked into the bathroom with her shirt and performed a quick clean-up job on skin that smelled like stale coffee. She emerged to find Mom trying to wrangle the box down the hallway, and rushed forward.
“Let’s each grab an end.”
They hefted their load through the house, out the door, and to Tori’s car. The sun had started its descent in an expanse of bright blue sky, but there were still several hours of daylight left. Good, because she didn’t enjoy driving the rural roads between Danville and Lexington in the dark.
“How are you going to get it in your apartment?” Mom asked when they’d stored the box in the trunk.
“Oh, I’ll get a couple of friends to help.” Tori looped the key ring around her finger and jingled. “Mom, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
Tori didn’t look at her. “Why do you think Daddy never tried to get in touch with us?”
She kept her gaze fixed on the grass, but saw Mom stiffen out of the corner of her eye. Since the day Daddy left, he’d become a taboo subject around the Sanderson house. Mom never discussed him, and the few times the girls had tried to ask her about him during those first lonely months, she’d looked like she was barely able to contain her anger. After a few tentative attempts early on, they’d reached an unspoken agreement not to bring up his name.
“I don’t know.” Mom’s voice was tight. After a moment’s silence she went on in a resigned tone. “But I suspect it was because he didn’t want to pay child support.”
That’s what Allie said the last time they talked about it.
“You could have made him, you know.” Tori let anger creep into her voice. “There are laws about that.”
She glanced up in time to see Mom’s shoulders heave with a silent laugh. “They were harder to enforce fifteen years ago. And besides”—she crossed her arms, her hands gripping her elbows—“we did okay without his help. Didn’t we?”
Mom’s slender neck seemed even longer than usual as her chin rose into the air. No doubt she’d faced some tough times raising three girls on her own. She’d had to swallow her pride when she moved them in with her parents so she could go to college and get her nursing degree. And she had provided the best home she could, had surrounded her girls with love. Tori felt a renewed rush of admiration for her.
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her mother. “We did just fine.”
Mom returned her embrace, and then a soft sigh tickled the top of Tori’s head. “He might also have been trying to avoid me. The last time I saw him . . . Well, we didn’t part on the best of terms.”
“That’s no excuse for deserting his children.”
“Of course it isn’t.” Mom stepped back, her hands resting on Tori’s shoulders as she searched her face. “Whatever his reason, it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”
Tori’s head dipped as she looked at the ground. Maybe it was her fault, a little. Maybe if she’d acted happier to see him when he came to pick them up. Or if she hadn’t stayed with Mom that day.
Mom gripped her chin in a finger and thumb and tilted it upward until Tori was looking at her. “It wasn’t your fault, Tori. You were a child. Your
Similar Books
