Read Shake Down the Stars Online

Authors: Renee Swindle

Shake Down the Stars (26 page)

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Really really?”

“Yeah, really really. I hope you're more articulate as a lawyer.” I laugh.

“What can I say, Kil? You rob me of all verbal skill. I feel like a kid around you.”

We smile at each other until he holds up his hand, which I take. We then walk toward the girls, hand in hand, not letting go until we're close enough that they can see us.

“Aunt P, check this out!” Margot yells. She pushes Sophia higher, and Sophia lets out a delighted scream.

“I hate to tell you, but they want you back at the house.”

“Already?” Sophia asks.

“'Fraid so.”

She asks Margot to help her stop the swing. “But we don't want to go, Aunt P. We've only been here, like, less than twenty-four hours.” She climbs out of the tire, then bends down and strokes Ella's ear. The dog buckles at her touch.

Selwyn says, “You both will come back soon; that's all there is to it. You and your family are always welcome.”

They look up at him, not believing a word. “You mean it?” Margot asks.

“Absolutely.”

“Just let me know when you want to come back for a visit and we'll come back. I'll bring you.” I glance at Selwyn to see if this is okay.

“Whenever you want,” he says with a firm nod.

“Okay, then. Let's go, Sophia.”

They walk ahead of us, but I overhear Sophia ask Margot: “You think Ingleton will be like this?”

“Like what?”

“You know, like a lot of trees and stuff.”

“Guess we'll find out soon enough.”

I stop short. “Girls . . . what's this
Ingleton
?”

The girls shoot each other panicked looks.

“Girls?”

“We can't say,” Margot says.

“Mom made us promise not to tell you.”

“Go back to the swing.”

“But—”

Anything Margot is keeping the girls from telling me cannot be good. “Go back to the swing. I'll come and get you in a minute.”

I don't need to explain to Selwyn that something is awry. “I'll stay with them,” he says. “Give you some privacy.”

“Thanks.”

Mom and Margot chat as though everything is perfectly normal as they descend the stairs. “What the hell is Ingleton?”

Margot throws her head back. “They told?” she says, then tromps down the stairs and sets her suitcase on the floor. “I specifically told them to keep their mouths shut.”

“They didn't tell. I overheard them. So what is it?”

“A school.”

“What kind of school?”

“A good school,” Mom interjects. “They'll be taught good Christian values.”

“I know most of the schools around here, and I've never heard of it.”

“It's in Oregon,” Margot says with a sigh. “It's a boarding school, okay?”


Boarding school?
Have you lost your fucking mind?”

“Piper Michelle, watch your mouth,” Mom chides.

“Curtis and I need time after the wedding to continue to work on the show, and you know training starts for him.”


Margot, we're talking about your children. You can't get rid of them because your schedule is busy.”

“But Curtis and I want to start a family ourselves, and we need time alone. And it's a good school. We did our research.”

I try to will myself to calm down, to think of AA slogans and advice from Deacon Morris, but I'm so angry, nothing comes to mind. She can't send them away. What does shipping them off to boarding school say to them except that they're not wanted? As egotistical as she is, how can she possibly kick them out of her life?
My life.
Because it comes down to that, too, I have to admit. I'm closer to those girls than I am to my sister or my mom. I can't lose them.

“Please don't do this, Margot. It's not right. Think of what you're saying to them by sending them away.”

“If they don't like it, we agreed they can come back in a year. It's not a big deal, P.”

“But it is. An entire year away from their family is too long. Let them stay with me.”

“They may as well stay with me, if they're going to stay with you,” says Mom. “It's a good school. They'll be fine.”

“No they won't, Margot. They're too young to be sent away, and you know I'll look after them; they practically live with me as it is.”

“No, we've already decided, P. They want to go.”

“That's a lie.”

“They'll like it once they get there,” she quips.

“When did you decide to do this?”

“I don't know. A few months ago. Like I said, Curtis and I want to have a baby, and now that I have my show—it's the best solution.”

“Don't forget Danielle,” Mom interjects.

“Yes, after what happened with that slut, Curtis and I need time alone more than ever. The girls can focus on school, and my husband and I can focus on starting over again.”

She's not getting it. Not hearing me at all. I step closer so that we're almost nose to nose. I need to make her understand. I fear the girls will think they're unloved if they're sent packing just because she's newly married, and they're too young to be sent away. What is she thinking?

“Don't do it, Margot, please. A year without their mother is too long. I know they act mature, but they're still little girls who need their mother.” I take her hand. I slow my breath. “Margot, you have only so much time with your children. And even that's not promised.”

She understands exactly what I'm saying and lowers her gaze. “I realize that, P. But I have to do what I think is best for
my
children. I know they spend a lot of time with you, but they're mine.
Mine.
And they're going.”

I snatch my hand away. “How can you be so heartless? You wouldn't be sending them away if they were Curtis's children. If those kids were his, there's no way you two would be sending them away; he wouldn't let you. If and when you get pregnant, just watch how you treat the baby as opposed to those girls. And they'll see the difference, just like I saw the difference with how Mom treated you when you were born.”

I hear Mom from behind. “Oh Lord, here we go! Here we go! See what I mean, Margot?”

“Let them stay with me. I'm begging you, Margot.” I'm on the verge of tears now but jump when I feel Mom's hand on my arm. “Don't touch me.”

“You need to calm down.”

“I don't need to do anything.”

The girls walk in with Selwyn in tow. The tension in the room is biting and oppressive.

“Everything okay, ladies?”

Sophia says, “Can we come back here and visit, Mom? Selwyn says we can.”

“We'll see. Go get your things.”

Mom turns to Selwyn as they leave. “I'd like to thank you for your hospitality. We appreciate your kindness.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Margot starts toward the stairs. “I'm going to help the girls.”

I let my gaze follow her, unsure of what to do next. I felt neglected as a child, and I know I might be putting some of my own stuff on the girls, but I also know for a fact that they used to complain that their mom was “never around” and “ignored them” all the time. Problem is, they've grown used to it. We all have. But that doesn't make it right. I know I'm going into a panic, dangerous territory for a drunk, but for the life of me, I can't accept the spitefulness of Margot's gesture. Who sends her ten-year-olds to a boarding school because she needs time with a man? More specifically, a self-absorbed cheat? And not just any ten-year-olds—
my nieces.
I just can't let this happen. I glance over at Mom. She's the only person who can sway Margot, and if I have to beg her to use her parental powers, so be it.

“Can I talk to you for a second, Mom?”

She steals a glimpse at Selwyn in a way that only I would notice.
Now is not the time for whatever you have to say.

Selwyn looks from my mom to me, surely feeling the tension between us. “I should get to that kitchen,” he says, making a speedy exit.

Mom rests her hand on her hip after he leaves and stares me down. I'm up for the challenge, though, and refuse to break her gaze.

“Mind if we step outside? For privacy?”

“After you.”

We walk out to the porch. When the sunlight catches her face, I'm reminded of how beautiful she is. When Margot grows older, she'll look exactly like her.

I come to when she says, “Selwyn is that man you left with at the engagement party, isn't he?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Are you seeing him? How many men
are
you seeing?”

“I'm not seeing anyone—not that it's your business.”

“It's my business when you're taking advantage of young men at my church.”

“Mom, I said I'm sorry for that. How many times do I have to apologize? And anyway, I don't want to fight. I don't. Look, I am sorry for everything I have ever done wrong, okay? I'm sorry for everything you think I've done wrong and everything I'll do wrong in the future. But let's just forget about us and focus on the twins, okay?”

“Go on.”

“Is there any way you can convince Margot to let the girls stay? She'll listen to you. They can stay with you or me—I just think sending them away is wrong. I don't want them to think we don't love them. Would you talk her out of it, Mom? Please?”

“You're asking the wrong person. As I said, I think it's a good idea. Margot and Curtis need to work on their marriage, especially after what happened.”

“But the girls are a part of their family, too. How is sending them away going to help?”

“You act like she's sending them to prison. They'll be fine.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “I'm so stupid. Why did I think you'd help? Of course you wouldn't get it. You hardly raised me.”

“Don't you ever get tired of hearing yourself complain?”

I try to think of all I've learned in all those lousy AA meetings, but none it of matters at this moment. I can't recall a word of helpful advice from Sherry or Deacon Morris or any of those stupid self-help books Sherry asked me to read either. All of it is erased by my rage. I step closer to Mom. “You were a terrible mother and you were completely selfish and now Margot is selfish.”

Mom stares up at the sky and takes a long breath as if asking the heavens to give her patience and guidance. She closes her eyes and rolls her shoulders back as if she knew this moment would come and knew she'd have to steal herself for it. “Look, Piper. I know you want to blame me for how your life turned out, but it's not my fault we lost our Hailey.”

“What?”

“I've been talking to Charles, and he helped me see why you're so angry with me.”

“This has nothing to do with Hailey.”

“It must, and I'm sorry for that. I know I can be hard on you, but you tend to make poor decisions based on her passing.”

I think back to the first time I visited Clem and how angry she became at the mention of her husband. I'm as pissed now, even more so. “Don't you dare mention my daughter. You don't know a thing about my relationship with her, or me, and you have absolutely no idea what I've been through. I'm sick of it, Mom. I've never told a soul what you were like before you met Charles, and you've never thanked me. All you do is act like Margot is Miss Perfect while you treat me like I'm the major source of all your problems. But Margot is no better than I am. She pops antidepressants like candy and picks men who treat her like shit. You raised a complete narcissist. She has no empathy and no sense of integrity—and in the same way she ignores the girls, you ignored me. And now you're going to let her take them away!”

“I'm not going to
let
her do anything. She's a grown woman. And you have to remember, Piper,
she's
their mother, not you.”

“I know that,” I say. “I know.”

I also know I've blown it. I wanted to convince her to let the girls stay, but instead we're right back where we always end up, arguing over the same old issues. I cross my arms and stare out at the hills in the distance. I've lost. The girls are going.

“I'm sorry you're so upset, Piper, but it's for the best.”

“Hardly. She's making a huge mistake.”

“Even if it is, there's nothing you can do about it now.” She turns toward the door. “I'm going to see if she needs any help.”

“Of course you are.”

She sighs before going inside.

I stare out at the hills in the distance, but then I'm crying and wiping the tears from my face. I'm more composed, at least, by the time Margot bustles out. She clicks the trunk of her car open. “Piper, you should get your purse and whatever, so we can get outta here.” Mom comes out next. She has Margot's bag and ignores me as she walks to the car and places the bag inside the trunk. She calls for the twins while Margot answers her phone. “Yeah, baby, we're leaving right now.”

The girls come from around the side of the house with the German shepherd cavorting at their feet until he starts wheezing uncontrollably and plops to the ground. Ella and Louis follow, and the girls get in their last moments of playtime. Selwyn trails from behind.

Margot calls, “P, get your purse. It's time to go.”

“Is your offer to stay still open?” I ask Selwyn.

“Sure is.”

Margot looks from Selwyn to me and back to Selwyn.
“Okaaaay,”
she sings.
“All right
.
I get it.”
She then says to Selwyn, “Someone on the phone would like to speak to you.”

“Me?”

She gives him her phone, and in an instant he's clutching his chest as though he might pass out. “Curtis? Is this some kind of joke? How you doin', man?”

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