Page 117 of Perfect Composition
Moving to Connecticut was a wonderful decision. I’m so grateful one of the winter graduates of the University of Texas wanted to purchase my business and was able to secure the loan to do so.
Here, I don’t feel weighed down by the burdens of my decisions. I don’t hear the ghosts of my past on the radio and remember a piano with our initials carved not so very far away. I arrived in the bleakness of winter and immediately started rebuilding my life from what I know to be based in fact. Like Carys said in her office all those months ago, that involved two things: my degree and my daughter.
Everything else is just supposition. Rumor. Innuendo. Or flat-out lies.
And I’ll never deal in those ever again.
Regardless if it means shutting down part of the hope I’ve clung to for so long.
Finishing my check of my other patients, I head into the back and quickly shower and change into slacks and a warm sweater. After drying my hair, I slip my hospital ID around my neck before I meet my sleep-deprived eyes in the mirror.
Will Austyn know I’m lying to her about being happy when I’m clearly lying to myself?I wonder briefly. I turn away from the mirror before I give the thought more than the second it deserves.
Right now, I have to worry about hitting up the local Stop & Shop for groceries before they shut down the wine section. I’m still not used to Connecticut liquor laws shutting sales down by 10:00 p.m. And I have a feeling I’m going to need a glass once my daughter starts talking about her father.
Something I’m not going to be able to avoid.
No matter how hard I try.
A door slamming alerts me to Austyn’s arrival the next day. The tiny cottage I rent on the outskirts of Collyer is perfect for me. The exterior is a bright sunny yellow with a white brick chimney. Inside, it’s charming with wide floorboards, a fireplace in the living room, and a recently renovated kitchen. While much of my furniture from Austin easily fit, there were some pieces I sold because they didn’t belong in this new life.
And fortunately, some of the new memories of Beckett didn’t accompany them. It’s hard enough dealing with the ones that did.
There was one thing I needed to ensure was shipped—Austyn’s piano. I had that packed and sent directly to her apartment in New York. Fortunately, I had an excuse when she called me squawking. “I don’t have room in my new place for it. If you can’t fit it, well, contact your father.” I ended the conversation quickly thereafter.
I frown when I hear two more doors slam before thethump, thump, thumpsignals Austyn dragging her bag up the flagstone walkway. Shoving to my feet, I move to the front door and fling it open.
My jaw falls open when not only is Austyn there, but Carys and Angie are right behind her holding enormous cellophane-filled baskets. The three of them yell, “Surprise!”
“That’s one way of putting it. What are you all doing here?” I reach out and push open the storm door.
Austyn presses a kiss to my cheek, narrowly avoiding rolling her bag over my toes. “Which way to the washer and dryer, Mama?”
“Basement, kiddo. And before you worry about things like spiders and the like, it’s a finished basement.”
“I wasn’t worried about them before, but now I will be. Thanks!”
“That’s your punishment for not telling me we were having company,” I call out to her.
“That’s the concept of a surprise,” she shoots back. She swivels her head left and right. “How do I get to the basement?”
“How about letting me greet my guests, you rotten kid?” I turn and find myself caught in a fierce hug from Carys. For such a tiny thing, she has tremendous strength. For just a moment, I let some of it bury deep inside so when I need it, I can pull it out. “It’s good to see you both,” I tell her as I pull back and give Angie a similar hug.
Angie’s face is serene. After everything she’s endured in the press in the last few months, I have no doubt why. “You too, Paige.”
Austyn’s dancing back and forth. Exasperated, I demand, “Do you need a bathroom or something?”
“No, I need to unpack my bag. I have something for you.”
“Then just give it to me.” I tap my foot impatiently.
“I think I’ll wait until later. We have a lot of shopping to do.” Austyn’s eyes roam critically around the room. “What happened to all of your stuff, Mama?”
“Some of it’s in the attic; some of it I sold. It was time to start with a fresh slate.”
You might have announced I dropped a turd in a punch bowl. Carys brushes her hands together. “Right. So, we want style, but we’re on a budget. You know where we need to go?”
“Where?”
