When did we start talking about being arrested as if it were something to be proud of between friends? And why wasn’t Katy in jail? What exactly has she done to be arrested the first place? And why did she make it sound like this was not the first time she’d been in handcuffs?
What had happened to this place? Pelican Bay used to be a quiet, boring town. My parents’ fighting, which most often took place in the front yard or at the town bar, where the bikers hung out, was big news. At least it had seemed that way. Now Katy and Vonnie were comparing arrest records.
We reached the corner of Main Street and the bakery, but I had to ask Katy one more question before we went inside and ate those promised cookies.
“Why didn’t you tell me my parents split?” I asked Katy in a way that felt random but was anything but for me.
I’d been thinking a lot about it for the last few days. No one should have to hear their father moved out from an ex-boyfriend on the beach in Florida.
Katy stopped right in front of the bakery door and turned back to me. Her eyebrow dropped low, and she tipped her head to the side. “I thought you knew.”
I should have. If I were a better daughter, I’d have realized it or someone would’ve told me, but I didn’t. “No, I didn’t hear of it until Riley mentioned it earlier this week.”
Katy nodded once and then pushed open the bakery door, letting us in. She held up two fingers to a woman with the name Anessa embroidered into a bright pink apron. Had to be the bakery owner and the woman who had the “run-in” with the bakery’s previous renters. I wanted to ask her a million questions about the situation, but I didn’t think it was socially polite to ask someone you just met about their past trauma.
Anessa and Katy did not speak while she grabbed a variety of cookies from behind her bakery case. Katy pulled the chair out from the table directly across from the cash register and I took a seat on the other side, noticing a small piece of the jade color chipped away. A dark wood was visible just underneath, as if the spray paint on the chairs was being worn away from use.
It was the only thing in the entire bakery that seemed out of place, as long as you didn’t consider the overall aesthetic completely crazy. The walls were Pepto-Bismol pink, which matched the aprons. They painted the chairs and tables jewel tone colors, which clashed horribly with the Americana she had on display for the summer holidays. Red and blue stars draped over a fake fireplace, and fireworks decorated the couch cushions in the small sitting area off to the side.
In the decorator’s defense, it had to be hard to match so many colors with the bright pink on every other surface. And I mean everywhere. The little plates Anessa dropped off our cookies on were pink. The napkins on the table were pink and the little bell above the door, which rang when new people walked in, was pink.
A pink bell. Where did she find that?
Vonnie separated from us to walk behind the counter, slipped a different bright pink apron over her head, and then washed her hands in the sink.
“She works here?” I asked, giving a head nod to Vonnie.
Katy nodded. “She picked up my shifts for me once I took on a full-time job at the bed-and-breakfast.” She’d told me all about her new position the first time we’d spoken to give me an update on pretty much everybody in Pelican Bay. Even the people I hadn’t asked for updates on. “I’m sorry about your mom. If I’d realized you didn’t hear, I would’ve told you.”
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. She hasn’t even come to see me since I’ve been in town.” Although I’d been busy with Riley, and I hadn’t raced to see her either. I took a bite of my cookie, letting the chocolate melt in my mouth and doing my best not to moan over the delicious flavor.
“If it makes you feel any better, she’s doing really well. I’ve heard she even quit drinking.”
I finished my cookie and reflected for a moment. “Something else no one told me.”
Katy shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t want to get your hopes up if it didn’t work. I think everyone kind of figured you’d never come home again. You’ve been gone for so long.”
I hated who my parents became when they fought, but they were still my parents. We were family. I didn’t want bad things to happen to them. Never did I wish for trouble or pain. I just wanted them to get their lives together. I spent most of my childhood praying they’d put their differences aside to raise us kids.
It never happened.
Instead most often they left us to our own devices to figure out dinner while the two of them were drinking or fighting and then drinking because they were fighting. It was a volatile home life and one I couldn’t wait to escape.
But if I had known my mother was trying, I would’ve helped her.
At least I hoped I would have.
It’s possible Katy was right, and they didn’t want to get my hopes up. But what if they figured I didn’t care? In many ways, I wrote my parents off the day I rode that bus out of town. I wrote the whole town off.
Worse than that. I didn’t listen to Henry when he tried to give me updates on my parents. I said more than once I didn’t want to hear it. Even the time he told me about my mother breaking her wrists when she fell down the steps outside of our childhood home. It felt like one poor decision after another, and I had to get off the rollercoaster at some point.
I’d always assumed those were consequences of her poor decisions and left her to deal with them, but did it make me a terrible daughter? Was it too late to fix it? What was I supposed to do?
My mother heard I was in town and hadn’t even tried to contact me, but I didn’t contact her either. Would she even want to see me if I asked? Did my mother write me off as much as I had her?
As I started on my second cookie, my phone rang, disrupting my thoughts. Mandy’s name flashed on the screen, and I groaned before I answered it. I completely forgot about her and the box after dealing with my brother’s house. Not only was I a shit daughter, but I’d completely failed as a coworker friend. I had to get my life together.
“I’m so sorry, Mandy. Tonight I’ll make sure and take it.”
