Pie Town - Lynne Hinton [14]
Roger nodded reassuringly. “He’s fine,” he answered. “Everything was fine.” He paused. “You know, you need to water those plants twice a day,” he commented, recalling the pitiful shape her flowers and vegetables were in.
“I know,” she said. “You tell me that every year.”
“And every year you don’t listen.”
Malene was used to the lecture, and she waited for more of his speech on plant care, but Roger didn’t say anything else about it.
“He asked about Angel,” he finally explained. He stood up straight, dropped his arms by his side, and shifted his weight from side to side. The toothpick dangled from his lips.
Malene knew that Roger had quit smoking and that he had been without a cigarette for almost four weeks. She also knew that was a record for him. Because she had been with him when he had tried before to quit, she knew he was chewing on anything he could find. He liked gum and toothpicks best, but she had known him to chew on pieces of hay and the ends of pencils when he was desperate. Malene didn’t respond.
“You think I should try to find her?” he asked. He rested his hands on his hips, waiting for her reply.
Malene didn’t answer right away. She thought about Angel, how much like her father she was, how much he loved her. She had his frame, his dark hair and eyes. Angel had always been a spitting image of her father. Malene looked away. She knew how much he still missed her.
When Angel was a little girl, the father-daughter duo had been inseparable. He doted on her night and day, bought her everything she ever wanted, taught her everything he knew about riding horses, fixing a car engine, reading animal tracks. She was the biggest tomboy in Pie Town, and there was nobody more important to their daughter than her father. When Angel became a teenager, gave up those childish games, learned to drive, and started making her own way, it had been hard on Malene, but it had been harder on Roger. He hated watching his little girl grow up. And unfortunately she didn’t do it well or easily.
Malene and Roger had argued before their divorce, but their fights had been nothing like the fights he had with Angel when she turned fifteen and started hanging out with the Romero boys and that girl from Omega. Those fights lasted two years, and then she was pregnant and then she was gone. And Roger and Malene and their marriage and Angel’s little boy were all left in the wake of their daughter’s destruction.
Malene shook her head. “I don’t see the point, Roger,” she finally replied. She went back to filing papers, straightening up the area around her.
“I could just check to see if she’s still up north. I can call my buddy up there, and he could stop by the bar, the last place we have on record where she worked, and just ask a few questions.” He hesitated.
She glanced at the clock. It was getting late and she still had six sponge baths to complete and eight beds to change. She had to finish charting her daily duties and still work on a new admission scheduled to arrive before she left. She faced her ex-husband. “Alex always asks if his mother is coming to his birthday parties. He asks if she’s going to come at Christmas and at Easter and how to send her a card at Mother’s Day.” She shrugged. “He always asks, but he never seems devastated when she’s not there. Disappointed maybe, but not devastated.” She picked up the folders that needed her notes. “Just let it go, Roger. She knows it’s her son’s birthday. If she wants to show up, she will.” She looked down at the forms she still had to complete. “I’m way behind. I got to get some work done.”
Roger slid the toothpick from side to side in his mouth. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry I bothered you. You’re right. I know. I need to leave her alone. I guess Christine is right. This town isn’t for everybody.” He pulled out the toothpick, seemed like he wanted to say something else but didn’t, stuck the toothpick back in his mouth, and nodded his good-bye.