by Susan Gable
Hayden’s gut jumped to high alert. A too-big ring was easily fixed. Something didn’t add up.
###
By Thursday night, he didn’t know much more. He’d spent Tuesday and Wednesday after school with Nick, teaching him the basics of weight training, working out in the school’s gym.
And working on the kid for information.
But when the subject of his stepfather came up, the teen shut down. Just like his mother did.
Hayden pulled into the long, tree-lined driveway of his parents’ home, the house where he and all his siblings had grown up. He’d called a family meeting. Made it easier to tell the story about Nick just once. Besides, he had something he needed to propose.
They weren’t going to be happy.
He edged the Camaro to a halt behind Greg’s Tracker. Finn’s Explorer was already there, too. Hayden did a quick scan of the rest of the vehicles, and cursed under his breath.
He was the last to arrive. To his own meeting. They weren’t going to let him live this one down.
He trotted the rest of the way down the driveway. The final overhead garage door on the three-car bay was open, and he darted through it, weaving his way around several bikes lying on their sides. Some of the kids had obviously been at Grandma and Pop’s after school today.
He brushed his palm over the hood of his father’s Lexus as he passed. Still warm. Good sign. His dad hadn’t been home that long, either.
Hayden jumped the two steps to the landing. The screen door’s hinges squeaked as he entered the mudroom. No matter how much WD-40 they used on the thing, it always squeaked—his mother’s early warning system, he suspected. Although if the whole gang was gathered, the hinges wouldn’t usually cut through the din and chaos.
They weren’t gathered around the kitchen table, or milling around the island. Chatter came from the dining room, where everyone had gathered around the table.
Head ducked, shoulders pulled up, he sauntered in. “I’m not late,” he announced as he slid into the chair beside Greg. The table’s extension leaves had been removed, shortening it to the original length. His father sat at one end, his mother at the other. On one side of the table, seated in birth order—organization was key in a family so large, and they all had assigned seats for this—were Alan, Bethany, Cathy, Derek, Elke and Finn. On Hayden’s side of the table were Greg, him, Judy and then the twins, Kyle and Kara. With Kyle just done with law school, it had been a while since they had all gathered like this.
“No one said you were.” His father grinned at him. “Guilty conscience, son? Something you need to confess before we get started?”
Hayden arched an eyebrow. “No.” He scanned his siblings. Greg twitched next to him. “But maybe Greg...?”
His brother blushed and gazed at the table.
“Greg? Something to tell us?” Mom asked.
Bethany fidgeted in her chair, also staring at the table.
“Holy crap,” Hayden said, quickly putting two and two together and getting three. Bethie was an obgyn. And if she was in on Greg’s secret... “Shannon’s pregnant, isn’t she, you dog?” He slugged Greg in the shoulder.
“Ow! Hey! She’s going to kill me.” Greg groaned. “We planned to tell you all at the Memorial Day picnic. She wanted to get into her second trimester before we spilled the news. Congratulations, JabberJaw,” he added. “You’ve done it again.”
The next few minutes passed in relative chaos, as everyone left their seats to congratulate Greg, hug him, pound him on the back, offer him tips on dealing with pregnant women. Finn had gone slightly green, not that Hayden could blame him, given his experience with Amelia’s high-risk pregnancy last year. She’d spent months on bed rest after coming damn close to losing the baby—a baby she’d conceived to save their older daughter.
Hayden stood off to the side and watched it all unfold, a sense of emptiness growing in his chest. Now, with the exception of the twins, the “babies” of the family, he was the only one who remained without a marriage or child notch on his belt.
And for the first time ever, that bothered him.
“All right, all right. Let’s get back to business,” Mom said.
Once they were settled, their mother propped her elbows on the table, lacing her fingers together. “We’re here tonight to discuss the situation with Nicholas. I know we’re all very concerned about him. Hayden?”
He started with that surprising phone call from Ronni, requesting his help, which earned eye rolls from several members of the family. He covered the meeting at the courthouse, the terms of Nick’s probation.
“The kid got in over his head because of a girl he’s trying to impress.” The brothers exchanged knowing looks around the table. “The situation with his stepfather is putting a strain on both him and Ronni. She’s at the nursing home every day, running a business to keep a roof over their heads, and trying to raise a teenage boy all by herself.”
“Well, that didn’t take long, did it?” Judy piped up from his right elbow.
“Long for what?” He turned to face her.
His sister’s eyebrows drew down and her nose wrinkled. She held up her pinkie. “For Ronni to wrap you around her little finger again. Hell, Hayden, I expected you to have more loyalty to Ian.”
Hayden leaned closer. “Don’t you dare question my loyalty to Ian. Ever. I’m going to do whatever I need to do for Ian’s son.”
“Including sing the praises of his mother?”
“That’s not what I was—”
“Enough,” their mom said. “I understand she’s having a difficult time right now, Hayden. I’m sure dealing with her husband isn’t easy.” The lines in Lydia’s face softened in sympathy, shocking Hayden. Maybe there was hope.
“Apparently, it’s not. Look, I’ll be the first to admit, I never thought I’d say this.” Exactly when he’d come to his revelation about Ronni, he wasn’t sure. But seeing that flat, hollow look in her eyes, knowing just how much the weight of the world was on her shoulders... He’d given Ian his word that he’d look after both Nick and Ronni.
He scanned the people around the table, stopping at his mother. If she came on board with his plan, the rest of them would have to fall in line, as well, however grudgingly.
He took a deep breath and braced himself for the chaos he knew would ensue. “It’s time to bring Ronni back into the family.”
CHAPTER FOUR
OUT OF THE FRYING PAN, into the fire...
Ronni clutched the slow cooker of pierogies made from Babcia’s recipe as she meandered down the Hawkinses’ driveway. With every step, her feet grew heavier. Nick, seemingly miles ahead of her, carrying the chocolate babka she’d baked, turned around. “Mom. Come on. What’s taking you so long?”
“Just trying to...” Avoid the whole thing? Find a reason to turn and run? When Hayden had extended the invitation to the Hawkins Memorial Day picnic, held on Sunday of the holiday weekend, she’d been stunned. Skeptical.
Terrified.
And that hadn’t changed over the last two weeks. Except maybe to have intensified. “Uh, just trying not to drop the pierogies.”
Nick waited for her to catch up. Then he said, “Mom, don’t sweat it. Grandma Lydia’s not going to bite you or anything. It’s going to be fine.”
She pasted on a smile for his sake. He’d been so excited by the idea of her attending the annual barbecue, one he’d gone to every year. Without her.
Why mess with success?
Because it meant so much to her son.
The driveway was packed with cars. She’d intentionally parked at the very end, facing the road.
The knot in her stomach grew. She followed Nick in through an open overhead door...and stopped. A bright blue motorcycle, dulled with a layer of dust, sat in the far corner of the oversize three-car garage. Ian’s motorcycle.
Her nose tingled. She took a step in that direction—
And Nick called from the steps into the house, “Mom? You coming?”
/> She turned away and followed him inside. So much had remained the same over thirteen years. But in the kitchen, there were new granite countertops and black appliances.
The sliding glass doors that led to the wraparound upper deck were open. A warm breeze drifted in, carrying music and the chatter of numerous people, punctuated with the occasional shriek of a child’s laughter.
To her relief, Ronni didn’t recognize any of the people milling about the kitchen, so she smiled and nodded at them, then trailed her son into the dining room. “Desserts go in here,” he told her, setting the babka on the table, which already held plates of brownies, several pies, peanut-butter-kiss cookies and an ornately carved watermelon basket filled with fruit salad.
Finn’s handiwork, no doubt.
“We’ll put the pierogies downstairs, Mom.” Nick darted out of the dining room and rounded the railing that overlooked the main foyer. He barreled down the first short flight of steps, giving the suit of armor that stood guard in the foyer a high five as he passed.
Ian and Hayden had once mounted Sir Hawkins, as the armor was called, in the back of a pickup truck bed and crashed the Millcreek Fourth of July parade. Hayden drove, Ian stood in the back with the knight and tossed candy to the kids...and sixteen-year-old Ronni had simply gawked from the sidelines, amazed at their audacity.
A week later, she was dating Ian Hawkins.
A year later, she’d already had his son.
Another year later, she’d been closer to losing him than she’d ever imagined possible.
She descended that first set of stairs, giving Sir Hawkins a wistful look as she crossed the slate-tile floor to the set that led to the basement.
The level of noise coming up made her pause. She took a deep breath, then plunged down the final stairs, into the large rec room. Lots of bodies in this room. Including...Lydia Hawkins.
The hair on Ronni’s neck bristled, and her stomach rolled.
For a moment, she was sixteen again. About to face this woman with the news she was pregnant.
At least then she’d had Ian at her side.
The noise volume in the room shifted, and she could sense the stares. She shuffled forward, cleared her throat. “Mrs. Hawkins. Thank you for having me.” She shoved the slow cooker in her direction. “I brought pierogies. They’re my babcia’s recipe. I, uh, I brought a chocolate babka, too. Nick told me to leave it on the table in the dining room.”
Lydia took the container from her. “Thank you.”
Ronni met her gaze. Lydia’s hair had gone completely silver in the intervening years. But her eyes were as blue as ever. Those eyes examined and accused Ronni in one slow sweep.
“I—I’m sorry,” Ronni murmured, knowing she’d been measured and found wanting. Again. So many things she needed, wanted to say. But those two words summed up everything.
At Lydia’s curt nod, the entire room came back to life, as if everyone had been holding their breath.
But Ian’s mother narrowed her eyes. A subtle message flickered there. This had been the public reconciliation. There would be a private come-to-Jesus meeting, just the two of them.
Something to look forward to.
Ronni swallowed hard, glancing around for Nick. Not seeing him, she seized the opportunity. “I, uh, I’m going to go find Nick.”
“Okay.”
Like a child dismissed from the principal’s office, Ronni darted toward the open French doors that led out to the patio, dodging bodies.
Just outside, she misstepped, collided with someone. “S-sorry.”
“Where’s the fire?” The man held her by the arms to steady her. “Ronni.”
She stared up at one of Ian’s brothers. “Greg. Hi.”
“You’re shaking like a leaf. I take it that means you’ve run into my mother already.”
She nodded.
He gave her a once-over. “I don’t see any blood. That mean it went well?”
“I think it means she’s saving it for later, when there aren’t so many witnesses.”
“Ah. That could be. Well...it’s good to see you again.” His tone was even, polite, sounding mostly sincere to her. But he’d been close to Ian, too. He released her arms. “Hey, come with me. There are some people I’d like you to meet.”
He led her past the huge, stainless steel grill where Finn stood, spatula in hand. Smoke billowed out, carrying the tantalizing aroma of barbecue. “You already know Finn,” Greg said as they passed. “Finn, say hello to Ronni.”
“Ronni.” He saluted her with the spatula. Finn had already been off to college when she’d started dating Ian, but she’d met him during school breaks and summer vacation.
“Finn.” She wanted to ask him how his new family was doing, especially his daughter, Jordan, who was almost the same age as Nick. Jordan had received a cord-blood transfusion from her baby brother back in the fall. But Greg beckoned her forward.
They stopped at one of the picnic tables, where two women sat. One bounced a chubby baby on her knee. The other’s face lit up at Greg’s approach, leaving no doubt in Ronni’s mind as to her identity. “Let me guess. Shannon, right?” Nick kept Ronni updated on all the family activities—and there had also been the wedding invitation Nick had received last summer.
“Right,” Greg said. “Ladies, I’d like you to meet Ronni, Nick’s mom. Ronni, this is my wife, Shannon, and this is Amelia, Finn’s...”
“Don’t you dare call me his woman, or some other equally prehistoric term, Greg,” the woman with the baby—Amelia—said.
“I was going to say the love of Finn’s life. Will that work?”
“You were not going to say that,” Shannon said.
“Hey, whose side are you on?” Greg protested.
The camaraderie, the friendly teasing—this was something Ronni had missed about the Hawkins family.
Greg bent over, cupping Shannon’s chin in his hand, and kissed her.
The air around them sizzled with the electricity they generated.
Something else she missed...
“Oh, no,” a child said. “Not kissing again.” The boy groaned. “Uncle Greg...”
Greg broke away from his wife with a chuckle, looking over at the kid. “And this is our boy, Ryan.”
Ronni knew that Ryan was actually Shannon’s nephew. Shannon had gotten custody of him a few years earlier, after Ryan’s father had murdered his mother. In front of the poor child. Greg and Shannon had met and fallen in love because of it, and now were in the process of petitioning the state to terminate Ryan’s father’s parental rights so they could formally adopt the boy.
“So my work here is done. I’ve grossed you out—” he pointed at the boy “—and given you something to think about till later.” He winked at Shannon, whose face flushed. “I’ll leave Ronni in the care of you ladies, okay? Come on, Ry, I think I promised you I’d take you to do some fishing.” He extended his hand and the pair wandered down the slope of the large grassy hill, toward the small pond at the bottom.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ronni,” Amelia said, blowing raspberries on her son’s small fingers as he poked at her mouth.
“Same here.” Nice to be around newer members of the family who hadn’t known Ian and hopefully didn’t have the same sharp ax to grind. “So this is Chip?” She nodded toward the baby.
“Yep. The one and only.” The baby’s birth had saved his big sister’s life with the blood from his placenta.
“How is Jordan doing? Nick told me all about her. I think it made him stop and think, to find out he had a cousin who was...” Ronni stopped. Bad form to remind a woman that her child had almost died.
“Dying?”
Ronni grimaced. “Sorry. Wasn’t thinking. Open mouth, insert size-eight foot.”
Amelia shrugged. “It’s true, though. She was. Now... she’s somewhere on the upper deck, I think, sulking because I wouldn’t let her come unless she promised to keep her mask on.” It was needed to protect Jordan’s still-fragile immune sy
stem from germs. Nick had found the mask kind of cool. Mysterious. Greg had decorated a series of them especially for Jordan, raising them to the level of intriguing for kids who didn’t have to wear them.
“Sulking? Sounds like a perfectly normal teenager to me.”
“Exactly. Thank heaven.”
It certainly put Ronni’s problems with Nick into perspective. And also reminded her that Lydia had lost a child. The pain of losing Ian had been great for Ronni, so she could only imagine how Lydia had felt.
Her apology was long overdue. Maybe their private meeting would be a good thing.
The three women chatted awhile longer about children, life in general, the Hawkins family in particular as they watched kids jumping on the trampoline, another group fishing down at the pond under Greg’s watchful eye. Playful teasing. Friendly banter. Ronni soaked in the laughter, the connections, the rapport....
A lump swelled in her throat. Her stomach tightened.
She hadn’t just lost Ian. She’d lost all this. All of them.
And it had been easy to pretend it hadn’t mattered to her. Out of sight, out of mind.
But being here with them, she realized she’d lost even more than she cared to admit to herself.
“Excuse me,” she choked out to the two women, who were now eyeing her apprehensively. “I—I think I’m going to take a walk.”
With that, she bolted toward the woods on the side of the house.
Toward a sanctuary she hadn’t visited in years.
###
Hayden waited for the kids to climb off his back, then stood, handing the football he’d had clutched to his stomach to Derek’s son, Jack. He brushed pieces of grass off his jeans. “Okay, that’s it for me. I’m done.”
“Aww, Uncle Hayden. Come on. Just a little more?”
“Nope.” He ruffled Jack’s hair. “You guys don’t need me to play.”
“But it’s more fun when you do,” Kyle said, grinning at him over the heads of the rest of the kids, from Lila, Derek’s youngest, to Nick. It had been Nick and Hayden against Kyle and all the other kids.
