Bridge to a Distant Star - Carolyn Williford [12]
“So is 666, but you don’t hear about couples shooting for that.” They both laughed, releasing some of the unease they were feeling as they’d plunged into touchy subjects. “I’m not saying anything more. It’s just that, well, my intuition—oh shoot, my common sense—tells me that having another child is a bad idea. Can’t put my finger on why, but Ed’s been hitting my buttons lately. And that’s it. Only my humble opinion.” She glanced over at Maureen and crossed her eyes. Which brought the desired smile from her friend. “Movin’ on to another topic. How are things with Colleen?”
Maureen groaned, then slumped down a little farther into the seat.
“Not so great, eh? How does it compare to a home with three boys who all think the greatest competition in the world is to win ‘the most foul-smelling sneakers’ contest by the end of the day?”
Maureen offered a weak smile.
“Caught ’em passing their athletic shoes around last night, voting on the winner. And would you believe Greg was in on it too? I swear he was enjoying it as much as they were, egging them on.”
“Did he enter his sneakers too?”
“Oh absolutely. But here’s the really big news: Greg and I just declared that, beginning as freshmen in high school, Clarkson boys do their own wash. Greg Junior’s already had his lesson in operating the washer and dryer.”
“Wow. That’s gutsy. Going okay?”
“Hmm, not so much. Instead of piles of just dirty clothes on Greg Junior’s floor, now there are piles of dirty and clean clothes.” Vanessa turned to look at Maureen, noted the mock-horrified look on her face. “He had to literally clear a path through the mess just to get from the door to his bed.”
Maureen offered an empathetic grimace. “How does he tell what’s clean and what’s dirty? And more importantly, how can you stand it?” She laughed.
“I made the mistake of asking him if he could distinguish from dirty and clean, and mind you … there’s underwear in those piles too.”
“So what’d he say?”
“Smell check.”
Maureen burst into laughter. “Oh, Nessa, you’re the best medicine. I needed this lunch so badly.”
They rode in companionable silence for a few moments until Vanessa reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand. “Do you think it’s anything serious with Colleen?” Maureen felt her countenance change immediately, and the lightheartedness that had lifted her spirit vanished. She knew that Vanessa could put on an act of irreverence in her humorous response to life. But Maureen also knew that underneath that flippant exterior was a heart full of sensitivity and tender love. When needed, Vanessa wasn’t afraid to let that side of her show. The sudden appearance of that very quality had undone Maureen a number of times before.
“Not really. It’s just—”
“Colleen’s being a typical mouthy teen and Bill’s … shall we say, pushing your buttons?”
Maureen stared at Vanessa’s profile, embarrassed by her friend’s insight. “And how did you gather all that?”
“Immutable signs.” Flatly stated.
“Immutable, eh? You into big words today?”
“Been reading a book on theology. Impressed?”
“Definitely. But don’t dodge, Nessa. Get back to my ‘immutable signs.’”
Vanessa drew a deep breath, prepared to tread softly. “Know how they say skin on a scar will always be thinner and more sensitive?”
“Sure. I have enough scars to prove that theory.”
“Well, you’re … thin. Does that even make any sense?” she laughed at herself.
Maureen kept her gaze straight ahead, staring out with unfocused eyes at the car in front of them. “Bill has always told me that I register every single emotion on my face. I hate that.”
“So … want to talk about it? Or, maybe … not?”
Maureen leaned her head against the window. Deciding she just didn’t have the emotional energy to go through it all now and then again with Sherry and Emilie, she said, “I think I’ll wait, Vanessa. It’s just too much—”
“To plow through twice?” To Maureen’s nod, Vanessa replied, “I understand. And besides,” she gestured toward their destination, “conveniently, we’ve arrived.”
As they pulled