Lost and Found in Lavender Bay (The Lavender Bay Chronicles #2)

3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

E verett and Lance were due home for their week of spring break. Since yesterday, Maureen had been cooking up a storm. She’d made a pot of sauce with meatballs and had also made a pan of lasagna. Her youngest, Ashley, had baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies.

With the change of the month from March to April, the rain had disappeared, and although the atmosphere remained damp, the sun was making an effort to peek through the heavy cloud cover.

Because she wanted a light work week while the boys were home, she’d made an effort to get things cleared off her desk. Earlier, she’d dropped off some watercolor renderings and a sample board of fabric swatches and paint chips to Mrs. Kovach, who’d been delighted with Maureen’s prompt turnaround.

Maureen was anxious to see Everett in particular. Her oldest wasn’t in touch as frequently as he was when he first went away to college. And when he was home for Christmas break, he hadn’t seen his old friends from high school, claiming he’d outgrown them. She tried to chalk it up to new experiences, living away from home, meeting new friends and getting a taste of freedom. But deep down, she worried that something was wrong. Allan always told her she worried too much, but wasn’t that her job as a mother? Someone had to do the worrying. Make sure everyone was fine and doing everything they were supposed to be doing.

Lance, her golden boy, was the first to arrive, in the middle of the afternoon. He favored her in looks with his light eyes and auburn hair. She cast a scrutinous glance over him. He looked well. He was eating, but whether properly or not, she didn’t know. It was amazing how fruit and vegetables fell right off the menu when they left home for college.

“Hey, Mom, how are you?” Over his shoulder, he carried a large duffel bag, which Maureen suspected was filled with dirty laundry.

She embraced him. “Hello, honey.”

When they pulled apart, she held out her hand for the bag. “I bet that’s for me.”

He had the grace to look sheepish. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get started on it.” There was something satisfying about sending your child back to college with a lot of clean laundry and food.

Lance looked around the kitchen. “What’s that smell? What are you making? Is that sauce?”

“I made lasagna for dinner tonight.”

“Sweet! Hey, is my hockey equipment still in the basement? I’m going to meet up with some of the guys for a quick pick-up game at the rink. ”

“Everything is down in the basement right where you left it. Better go do it though. The rink will be closing soon for the summer.”

“That’s the plan. Dad at work?”

“He is. He’ll be home for dinner.”

“What time is dinner?”

“The usual time. Six.”

“Where’s Ash?”

“She’s going straight from school to her violin lesson.”

He grimaced. “She still doing that?”

“Yes. She enjoys it. You like sports and she likes art and music.”

“Yeah, I know, hard to believe we’re related.”

“Well, for better or worse, she’s your sister.”

He laughed in that easy manner of his and went out the door with a wave, promising to be home in time for dinner.

The duffel bag was heavier than it looked, and she had to drag it with both hands to the utility room off the kitchen. She emptied it on the floor, separating the clothes into piles of darks, lights, and whites. There was enough to get a full load started, so there was no need to wait for Everett’s laundry.

When Everett didn’t arrive by four, she tried not to panic. She dashed off a text but there was no reply. Later, as she was filling a pot with water for a side of spaghetti to accompany the lasagna, she heard the door open. She turned just as Everett stumbled inside.

With a laugh, she teased, “First day with your new feet?”

“Ha-ha,” he replied, but there was no humor in his voice.

“Hi, honey.” She frowned slightly. He looked awful.

“Hey, Mom. ”

She set the pot on the stove and turned on the burner. She walked over to Everett and hugged him.

“I was expecting you earlier.” She stepped back to take a closer look at him. He looked thinner than he had when he was last home. His cheeks were hollowed out, and his bangs hung in his eyes.

“I was late getting on the road.”

She reached over to push his hair out of his eyes, but he ducked away, out of her reach.

“You’ve lost some weight,” she observed.

“I needed to.”

“Are you eating all right?”

He rolled his eyes. “Mom, don’t start. I just walked in the door.”

She smiled and softened her tone. “I only ask because I’m your mother and I love you.”

“Love me a little less.”

“Impossible.” She persisted. “You’re looking a little bleary-eyed, kiddo.”

“Pulled an all-nighter for an exam this morning.”

“How’d it go?”

He shrugged and looked over at the stove. “What time’s dinner?”

“Half hour.”

He nodded. “I’m going upstairs. Call me when dinner is ready.”

“Come down in half an hour.” The lasagna was already in the oven, along with a loaf of garlic bread. The table was already set.

Everett disappeared upstairs, but not before dumping his bag of dirty laundry in the utility room.

Ashley walked in, carrying her violin case .

“Hi, honey, how was your lesson?” Maureen asked.

“Good, she says I get better every class.”

“It’s all that practicing.”

Always a popular, outgoing kid, Ashley had never given Maureen or Allan a moment of grief. It would be hard on them both when she finally went off to college in the fall, all the way out on the West Coast.

“I see the boys are home,” Ashley said, sitting at her usual place at the table and pulling up one of her knees in front of her. “Everett was kind enough to park in the middle of the driveway.”

Maureen looked up to the ceiling in annoyance. “Why does he do that? Your father won’t be able to get by him to pull his car into the garage.”

“Where are they?”

“Everett is upstairs, and Lance went to play some hockey with friends before dinner.”

The pot on the stove began to boil, and Maureen threw in a pound of spaghetti.

Ashley reached for an apple from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table.

Maureen looked at her. “We are eating in less than twenty minutes.”

Sheepish, Ashley put the apple back in the bowl.

“Do you have much homework?” Maureen asked.

“I’ve got that AP history paper due Monday. I better get started on that.” Her spring break did not start until the following week.

“What is it with you and Everett waiting until the last minute to study for tests or do papers?”

Smiling, Ashley shrugged. “We work best under pressure. ”

“Wouldn’t it be better to have it off your plate?”

“In theory it probably would be, but I don’t see that happening. Do you?”

“I guess not,” Maureen said.

Her husband walked through the door, all smiles. “Well, if it isn’t my two favorite girls.”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Dad, we’re your only girls.”

Allan went for Maureen, placing a hand on her arm. “Hey, you.”

He kissed her on the lips, and she smiled, kissing him right back, thinking he was still as handsome as the day she met him. Although there were fine lines around his blue eyes and gray had appeared at his temples, his attractiveness had not diminished in her eyes.

“I see Everett is parked right in the middle of the driveway,” he said. “Again.”

“Points for consistency.”

“Dinner ready?”

“Five minutes.”

“Good, I’m starving.” Allan took his seat at the head of the table. He looked over at Maureen at the stove. “Do you need any help?”

Maureen shook her head. She removed the loaf of garlic bread from the oven, setting it aside to cool before she sliced it. Then she removed the pan of lasagna, which was bubbling around the edges, and set that on a hot pad. She wouldn’t cut that yet or it would be soupy.

She drained the spaghetti, shaking the colander a few times to get out all the excess water, and put it into a large pasta bowl and set it on the table.

She sliced up the garlic bread and arranged it on a long, narrow platter .

“Ash, get up and help your mother,” Allan said.

Maureen handed her daughter the tray of garlic bread and followed her with the pot of sauce.

Lance appeared. “Do I have time to take a shower?”

“And hello to you too, Lance,” Allan said with a grin.

“Oh, hi, Dad.”

“Nope, no time for a shower,” Maureen said, going back for the pan of lasagna. “Before you sit down, go call Everett.”

Lance walked over to the foot of the staircase and yelled up for his brother.

Maureen rolled her eyes and muttered, “I could have done that.”

They waited as Maureen began to dish out spaghetti and squares of lasagna. She started with Ashley’s plate. Youngest first.

When Everett still hadn’t appeared by the time everyone had their plates, she sent Ashley up after him.

Eventually her oldest son stumbled down the staircase.

Maureen eyed him, concern filling her. “Did you fall asleep?”

“Yeah.” He slid into his seat and looked at the plate of food in front of him. As if unsure, he picked up his fork and began to eat. He looked over at his father and said, “Hey, Dad.”

Allan nodded. “Good to see you. Good to have everyone at home, all together.”

Maureen was the last one to sit down. She sat at the foot of the table with Allan directly across from her, Everett and Ashley to her left, and Lance on her right. Lance inhaled his meal while Everett picked at the food on his plate.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Maureen asked .

“No. I grabbed a burger on the way up.”

She didn’t say anything, deciding she didn’t want any friction.

Lance reached across the table, plucking two pieces of garlic bread from the platter.

“How was your hockey game?” Maureen asked.

His mouth was full. He chewed and gave the thumbs-up.

Maureen looked around the table. It was like the old days, when they were younger, and they were all together. When they came home for a visit, she enjoyed every moment of it.

“Does anyone have plans this weekend?” she asked.

Ashley spoke up first, helping herself to another meatball. “Emma’s home from college, so I’ll be hanging with her.” Emma was the daughter of Maureen’s sister Nadine. Although a year apart in age, the two cousins had been close since they were young.

“I’ll be away for a few days next week, so please give your mother a hand with things,” Allan said.

Lance looked at the pan of lasagna on the table but said nothing.

Maureen stood and, using the spatula, she cut a square from the pan and set it on his plate. She thought Lance was unusually quiet that evening. He tended to dominate the dinner table conversations. But she dismissed it, assuming he was tired.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Anyone want more?” she asked, holding the spatula up.

Allan nodded. “You twisted my arm. It’s delicious, Maureen. ”

She cut another square and reached over the table to place it on the plate he’d lifted toward her.

“Dad, where are you going?” Lance asked.

“Sorry. I was distracted by food.” Allan laughed. “I’m the keynote speaker at a dental conference this weekend in St. Paul, Minnesota.”

“Florida would have been better, Dad,” Ashley told him.

“I agree, but I don’t plan these things, so St. Paul it is.”

Later that night, Allan was first into bed. He turned on his bedside light, put on his reading glasses, and picked up the newest copy of The Journal of the American Dental Association.

Maureen stood in the doorway of the ensuite bathroom, applying lotion to her elbows. It bewildered her how her elbows got so dry, especially since she never used them.

“Lance was kind of quiet tonight at dinner,” she said.

Allan continued to read his journal. “It was a pleasant change.”

“Do you think he’s all right?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think Everett has lost weight?”

Allan looked up at her over the top of his glasses. “I didn’t notice.”

“He doesn’t seem like himself.” She rubbed more lotion onto her left elbow, which felt bumpy.

Allan laughed. “Honey, he just got home. Give him a break.”

That had been a constant refrain from her kids. That she nagged and worried too much.

But she couldn’t let it go. “I don’t know. I think something’s going on with him.”

Allan set the journal down on his lap. “Why do you say that?”

Turning off the bathroom light, she shrugged. “I don’t know, just a feeling I get.” She walked to their four-poster bed, kicked off her slippers, and lifted the covers, getting in. This was one of her favorite parts of the day, getting into bed. Her days were busy and hectic, and bedtime was usually well earned.

She turned on her side, adjusted her alarm clock, and turned off her bedside light.

Allan had not picked up his journal. She rolled over on her back and stared at the ceiling.

Her husband looked at her. “Are you going to worry about this? Will it keep you up all night?”

“Yes, and yes.” She couldn’t help it. It was how she was built. It was the way her mind worked.

With a chuckle, he set the journal on the bedside table, removed his glasses, and turned off his light. “Turn on your side, I’ll rub your back.”

Willingly, she rolled over, and Allan’s hand slipped under her nightshirt and began to rub her back. Closing her eyes, she could feel the tension seep out of her body. This always did the trick. It wasn’t long before she was sleeping.