Shelley Galloway - The Good Mother

To Tom.

Back when we met, my accent was thicker,

my figure was better and wrinkles around my eyes

were only something to dread. Thanks for making

me still feel like the girl you fell in love with…

all those years ago.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Epilogue

In her next life, Evie was going to think things through just a little bit more carefully. Think about things like good old cause and effect.

Brrrinnnggg! Bring, breeng! Bringgg!

Case in point. How come she hadn’t considered just how terrible the shrill ring of a fake cell phone would sound in her baby daughter’s hands when she was in Grab-A-Lot Dollar Store two days ago? Thinking ahead would have done her a lot of good.

Briinnggg!

“Momma, make Missy stop! Her stupid cell phone is drivin’ me crazy!”

Leave it to Jenna to tell it like it was.

“Missy, stop,” Evie said, more to please her seven-year-old than to bring about any change in her toddler.

Jenna had never been one to suffer fools, or to suffer her baby sister’s needs and wishes. Actually, from the moment her little redheaded darling had been born, she hadn’t been in the mood to put up with much of anything, which was really too bad, since Evie could have used some support at the moment.

Briiinnnngggg!

“Momma! She’s not stopping.”

A better mother would be more patient and kind. But Jenna had come about her personality rightfully…which meant a lot of the time Evie didn’t have much patience, either. “Thanks for the update.”

“Can’t you do something?”

“No, and you can’t, either. Don’t touch that phone,” she added, when she heard Jenna shifting closer to the baby, which could only mean the toy was about to be snatched.

It didn’t take a genius to know what would happen then. Missy screaming—loud, clear and unrelenting.

“But Momma—”

“Don’t touch it.”

Breeeinnngggg! Bring! Ding!

“I hate that phone! Can I at least say that?”

“You may.” Evie drummed her fingers on her steering wheel and hoped she was going to make it to her parents’ without going crazy or wondering yet again why she’d decided to make the drive from Texas to Florida’s panhandle in two days.

After all, the girls were acting just like all the parenting books said they were supposed to. Jenna was all of seven and trying so hard to be helpful, even if she was only helping to benefit herself. Missy was just a baby.

As the toy rang and whistled and Jenna sighed dramatically, Evie glanced up to meet her eldest’s glare in the rearview mirror. “Why don’t you color or something?”

Out went the lip. “I’m sick of coloring. And I can’t do anything with Missy going nuts with that phone.”

“It’s keeping her happy. Look on the bright side. She’s not crying.”

“Well, I’m not happy.”

Evie wasn’t, either, but since no one had cared about that during the last year, she didn’t bother to bring it up now. “You’re just going to have to be patient.”

“How much longer until we get to Bishop’s Gate?”

Recalling that they’d just passed the sign for I-85, Evie guesstimated they were close. “One hour. Maybe less.” Bishop’s Gate was a sleepy little beachside town on the west coast of Florida. As the resort billboards on the side of the road advertised, nonstop fun was just minutes away.

Jenna groaned like that was an eternity. “Momma, we’ve been in here forever.”

“Only nine hours.”

“I don’t see why we had to vacation in Florida, anyway.”

“I told you why. We’re going to Bishop’s Gate because it’s where I vacationed every summer when I was a little girl.”

“Now Missy and me get to go.”

It was truly amazing just how sarcastic a seven-year-old could be. “Yep.” And they were going to have a fun time.

“Daddy said Gulf Shores was closer.”

“Daddy’s not here.” Evie winced as she heard her sharp tone. Because she promised herself never to talk bad about John in the girls’ presence, Evie added, “Don’t forget, Grandma and Grandpa will be at the house when we get there. We’re going to grill hot dogs tonight, then all go to the beach tomorrow.”

As Missy pressed another three buttons on the phone and squealed with laughter, Jenna folded her arms across her chest, a true imitation of her father. “Daddy’s going to be all alone while we’re in Florida for one whole month.”

Evie seriously doubted that. Ever since their divorce, John had spent very little time home alone. In fact, he’d spent very little time “finding himself,” which was what he’d said he needed to do the night he’d said their marriage was over.

But that wasn’t something good mothers told their daughters. “We’ll call Daddy tomorrow. You can tell him all about the trip. You’re going to send him pictures, too, remember?”

“I remember.” As Missy kicked her pudgy legs against the navy car seat, Jenna twisted up her lips in a pout. “I’m going to tell Daddy all about your presents, starting with Missy’s cell phone.”

Evie smiled. “I think you should, honey. I think you should tell him all about every single little detail. Maybe you could even bring Missy’s cell phone with you next time y’all go visit him. That way, he’ll know exactly what it was like, traveling in the car with both of you for ten hours straight.”

As Jenna pondered that one, Evie popped a tape in the cassette player. “I’m going to listen to Harry Potter now. You can listen, too, or put on your headphones.”

Evie pushed Play before Jenna could react. During the last few years, Evie had learned there was a time to talk, and a time to hope for silence.

As the story clicked on and cars continued to pass her minivan, Evie let her mind drift, thinking about earlier days when she’d been the one sitting in the backseat on the way to Bishop’s Gate. But back then it hadn’t been a minivan, it had been an early model Chevy station wagon, and she’d never minded the drive because she’d always spent the time thinking about August Meyer.

For eight summers, they’d gone from boy-girl enemies to playground buddies to true friends. They’d argued and played and flirted and finally became something more special. Each summer, they’d shared secrets and swam in the warm gulf water. Nights had been for staying up too late and laughing too much. They’d flirted just enough to make things interesting, and finally kissed the summer before her senior year.

As the scent of the ocean became more pronounced through the open sunroof, Evie grinned, knowing she had no choice but to be honest with herself. They’d done a whole lot more than just kiss. They’d discovered all about love and lust in a cove off Cascade Beach, so much so that Evie had been sure August had been the One, and that she’d been just as special to him.

But then everything changed. After one late period, she and August had pondered babies and futures and their relationship.