Marg looked past her mother to see two large suitcases and a duffel bag.
“Um, how…how long are you planning to stay?” Marg asked, slowly twining a lock of her brown hair.
Alice looked unseeingly past Marg, an uncharacteristic fear in their green depths. She blinked rapidly and shook her head before focusing on her daughter, her look now guarded. “What does it matter? I am still part owner of the house, so I can stay as long as I like. And considering I’m going through a divorce, I would think you’d be a little more welcoming than you are being right now.”
“Mom, I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize for how you feel about me.” Alice waved her off. “Can we go now?” she asked, pulling on the strap of her handbag.
“Sure.” Marg reached around her and hoisted the duffel onto her shoulder before gripping the handle of one of the suitcases. She turned and made her way down the dock toward her car, and Alice followed close behind, pulling the other suitcase. The hour-long drive back to the house was done in silence.
Marg’s anxiety made an appearance the minute they turned onto Grouse Lane, and when she pulled up to the two-story house, painted a warm sapphire blue, it skyrocketed at the look of judgment on her mother’s face.
“I thought you would have changed this ghastly color by now,” Alice spoke, her voice full of disdain as she stood by the car, looking up at the house. Frown lines framed the sides of her mouth, and her brows attempted to meet.
Marg closed her door and sighed. “I didn’t change it because nothing’s wrong with the color, Mom,” she said, moving to the car trunk to remove the luggage.
“Humph,” came her mother’s reply.
Marg fought the urge to roll her eyes. Her mother had been in Oak Harbor for less than two hours, and already she was driving her up the wall. She rolled the suitcase along the short, paved walkway and hauled it up the three steps onto the porch. Resting the duffel bag on the low chair, she pulled the key from her pocket and opened the door.
After entering the foyer, Alice proceeded to walk down the hallway. She peered through the kitchen door, opened the door to the guest bedroom downstairs, and then made her way to the den with Marg right behind her. “Love what you’ve done with the place,” she spoke, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
Marg pinched the bridge of her nose, and her eyes fluttered shut for a few seconds as she tried to remain calm in the face of her mother’s criticism. “Is there anything else that you’re disappointed with, Mom? Perhaps you should go upstairs and find something else you can find fault with. Something that I forgot to do.” She folded her arms across her chest, waiting.
“I am not trying to find fault, Marg. I just thought we had agreed to make these changes the last time I was here,” Alice defended.
“You decided, Mom. I said I’d think about it,” Marg countered.
“You could have at least agreed with one of my suggestions,” Alice said, throwing her hands in the air.
“Mom, can we not do this now?” Marg sighed, feeling her temple throb. “Why don’t we put away your luggage? I’ve already prepared your room.”
Alice’s mouth snapped shut, and she gave her daughter a sharp nod. The two returned to the foyer and walked upstairs to the bedroom at the end of the hall.
“Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat,” Marg offered. Her irritation had dissipated, leaving her with a feeling of apprehension. She didn’t want to fight with her mother, considering that she was going through a difficult time because of the divorce, but Alice just seemed to have a way of getting under her skin. She always did.
“No, thanks. I’m just going to take a nap. It’s been a tiring couple of hours,” her mother replied in a subdued tone.
“Okay,” Marg replied before Alice shut the door. She released another tired sigh before turning and making her way downstairs. Her cell rang just as she reached the last step. She brought the device up to her face and broke out into a smile at the caller.
“Hey you,” she greeted cheerily.
“Hey yourself,” Ben greeted back, his voice just as cheery as hers. “How’s it going?”
“Honestly?” Marg looked toward the stairs, her brows furrowing. “Let’s just say no matter how much reconciliation me and my mom have to do, we will never see eye to eye.”
“That bad, huh? I wish I was there to give you hugs and kisses to let you know it’ll be okay.”
“I wish you were here too. I could really use that hug right now,” Marg responded, her lips lifted in a grin as she leaned against the wall.
“Um, what about the kisses?” Ben asked, sounding like a pouting kid.
“I definitely want your kisses too.” She blushed.
“That’s what I thought,” Ben replied. Marg pictured him shining with pride.
“Well, you only have a couple of hours to wait to make good on your intentions for me,” she reminded him.
