by Lori Foster
Covering her mouth, Joy laughed and shook her head. “Truthfully, Mother despises me.”
“That can’t be true.”
“I disappointed her one time too many.” Glancing at the door to ensure Jack remained out of hearing range, Joy added, “Marrying Vaughn was bad enough, but when he left me pregnant, she wanted me to wash my hands of...well, everything that had to do with him.”
Royce went still as understanding dawned. “She didn’t want you to have Jack?”
“She was quite clear that if I wanted my family’s support after the divorce, if I planned to stay with them while I regrouped, I had to do so without any connection to Vaughn.”
“That wasn’t her decision to make.”
Oh, how Joy agreed. “When I refused, she disowned me and I moved out.” That massive blowup felt like an eon ago. She’d changed a lot since making her own way.
She liked the person she was now much more than she liked who she used to be. At least for that, she could thank her mother.
“They’ve never met Jack, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
“Got it.” After a brief hug, Royce stepped away. “I’ll go get him for you. I need to check on Chaos, anyway.”
“Thank you.”
The second he was gone, Joy’s gaze skipped over to Maris. She bustled around as always, refilling napkins and straws in their dispensers, but she met Joy’s gaze.
“That was wild,” Maris remarked casually.
Putting a hand to her throbbing temple, Joy said, “I’m sorry that happened here.”
Abruptly she stopped, her gaze direct. “I’m sorry it happened at all. It shouldn’t have.”
“No, but that’s never stopped my mother.” She came up to the counter, but didn’t sit. Instead, she picked up a stack of paper napkins and helped to fill another dispenser. “My mother and I aren’t close.”
“No shit.”
How amazing that Maris could make her laugh even now. Truly a blessing in a friendship. Smiling, Joy explained, “She doesn’t like it when anyone goes against her wishes.”
“And you did?”
A hard truth to share, but with Maris, sharing seemed easy. “I had Jack, so yes.”
Maris scowled, dropping the box of straws and jamming her hands on her hips. “That’s why she was so hateful? Seriously? She resents her own grandson?”
“He’s not her grandson.” The denial came out harsher than Joy meant it to. Rubbing her temples, she said, “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, I get it. You probably wish it was true.”
Joy dropped her hands, knowing there was no way to escape the tension, or the embarrassment. “Jack is mine, so by blood he’s also related to my parents, but they’ve never met him, have never even asked about him.” They don’t care about him any more than they care about me.
Maris shrugged. “Their loss.”
It amazed Joy that Maris could always be so pragmatic. It was their loss. If she thought about it long enough, she could almost feel sorry for them.
Almost.
“After my divorce, I stupidly wanted to go home.” It dawned on her that her apartment with Vaughn had never felt like home, not really. “I thought I could stay with my parents awhile, figure out what I wanted to do.” It wasn’t easy, but Joy met Maris’s gaze—and was glad she had when she saw only the usual acceptance. No judgment, no pity. “It seemed the easy way out of my predicament, you know? Suddenly single, no job and a baby on the way.”
“That’s what family is supposed to do, lend a hand when you need it.”
Maybe for family who hadn’t burned bridges, but Joy had. Looking back, she knew she’d torched that bridge completely. “I was spoiled rotten without realizing it. I’d never worked. Even while married to Vaughn, we’d lived out of accounts my parents had set up for me.” When she’d returned to them, her pride damaged and fear of the future a live thing inside her, she’d wanted more than a hand. She’d wanted them to make it okay for her.
Their solution had been...unacceptable.
It still hurt Joy’s heart to remember. “We had a big argument about me being pregnant...and it ended with my mother disowning me. I left and I haven’t been back.”
Maris thought about that while finishing a chore. “Striking out on your own must’ve taken a lot of guts.”
Leave it to Maris to see the best in her. It’s how she treated everyone. “Honestly, it was the best decision I’ve ever made,” Joy said. “If I hadn’t left, I never would have learned to take care of myself. I’d still be dependent on them.” She wouldn’t have Jack, wouldn’t be at the park...
“And we wouldn’t be friends,” Maris said, almost as if she’d read Joy’s mind.
“Another upside,” Joy agreed with a smile...that quickly dimmed. “Apparently Mother hasn’t kept up with my life at all. She didn’t know if I’d had a son or daughter.”
Picking up the now-empty cardboard containers, Maris took them to the recycle can. “So basically, she disowned you and her grandchild?” She shook her head. “You might have been a little spoiled, but what she did seems downright mean.”
It felt mean, especially for her mother to seek her out only to continue the antagonism.
She and Maris settled onto stools, knees touching. It wasn’t planned, but it just happened. Sort of like their growing friendship. “I’m glad she’s not a part of my life anymore, because that means she’s not a part of Jack’s life, either, and as you just saw, that’s a good thing.”
Rather than remark on that, Maris asked, “Was it horrible growing up with her for your mother?”
“Not at all. In fact, I was pampered. I had stuff before I even thought to ask for it.” More stuff than she ever needed. More than she could even use. The truth of that shamed her. “Everything except love.”
“Are you sure they don’t love you?”
“Did that look like love to you?”
Maris shrugged. “When someone doesn’t care, they rarely show strong emotion. She found out where you live, right? She could have sent a letter. Or even just called the park and left a message.”
Huh. Maris had a valid point. Had Joy misread the situation? “If they loved me, they didn’t tell me so very often.”
“Saying it doesn’t always mean much.” A crooked smile put a dimple in Maris’s cheek. It wasn’t her usual smile, full of wit, warmth or sarcasm, depending on where she aimed it. Combined with her downcast eyes, this expression was...poignant. “My parents told me all the time how much they loved me, but they didn’t do much else.”
Confused by what that meant, Joy put her hand over Maris’s, giving her fingers a squeeze. “I’m sorry.”
“Not sure which is worse, you know? An empty belly or an empty heart.”
An empty belly? Dear God, what had Maris gone through? Her expression closed off, keeping Joy from asking too many questions, but she didn’t release Maris’s hand. Not because Joy needed it, but because, for once, she sensed that Maris did. “I think being hungry would be a terrible thing.”
“It was.” Deliberately lightening her expression, Maris nodded at the tray of fresh cookies. “Maybe that’s why I enjoy baking so much.”
“Maybe.” In that moment, Joy saw Maris in a whole new way. Possibilities opened up, reasons for her workaholic attitude and stringent lifestyle. She was a strong woman, a survivor and a valuable friend.
For so many reasons, Joy considered her a good influence in Jack’s life. Daron was, too—as well as Coop and Baxter, Phoenix and her sister, Ridley...
The park sign took on new meaning for her: Cooper’s Charm: A Good Place to Get Away. It should also say The best people in the world work here.
“So.” Pulling her hand free, Maris said, “What I want to know is, how did you turn out to be such a sweet person? Because seriously, Joy, you were way too nice
to her.”
Just that easily, Maris broke the melancholy and returned to her usual self. In one respect, Joy was relieved. It hurt her to see her friend hurting.
But in another...well, she hoped that one day Maris would trust her enough to share everything—the good, the bad and the unfortunate, past disappointments and future goals.
For now, Joy had one little secret she could share. Hopefully Maris wouldn’t see it as an unwelcome obligation.
There was only one way to find out. “You’re on Jack’s emergency contact list,” she blurted.
Blinking, Maris leaned back, eyes widening. “Come again?”
“I don’t expect there to be an emergency,” Joy rushed to say, “but I felt that if something happened to me, if Jack got sick and they couldn’t reach me, or...or whatever.”
“You named me?”
Joy rather liked the astonished look on Maris’s face. It reflected surprise, but not in an unpleasant way. More like she’d been given a gift. “The school needed a contact. You’re it.”
“You... I mean, I...” Laughing, Maris shook her head and started over. “Okay, first, wow, I’m flattered.”
“You are?” Relieved, Joy let out a breath and smiled.
“Seriously, insanely flattered. I thought you might not want to leave the squirt with me, since I don’t have kids of my own.”
“You’re good with him,” Joy promised. “He treats you like an aunt.”
“An aunt, huh? Hey, I like that.” Boasting, Maris said, “I’m an honorary aunt,” she said, tasting the words and then nodding. “Cool beans.”
Laughter bubbled up. “You don’t mind? Being on the emergency list, I mean?”
“I’m seriously honored, but when did that happen?”
With a wince, Joy admitted, “The beginning of the school year.” Joy rushed into explanations. “I should have told you, I know that, but it never seemed like a good time and then I guess I just put it out of my mind. Even without discussing it, I knew if the school ever called you, you would go. I’ve always...” Joy shrugged. “I’ve always trusted you—whether I told you so or not.”
Pleasure put color in Maris’s face. Softly, without humor to detract from the sincerity, she whispered, “Thank you.” She even leaned in for a brisk hug before setting Joy away from her. “Really. That means a lot.”
“Thank you,” Joy laughed. “I hope nothing comes of it, but I feel better knowing there’s backup for Jack.”
“Hey, we’re part of a club now, right? I’m here for you.”
Well, then... “I want to be here for you, too. If you ever need me to help, or to fill in for you, I’m a quick learner. You’d just need to tell me what to do.”
Appearing bemused by the offer, Maris nodded. “I might take you up on that someday.”
Joy grinned. Who knew being needed could feel so good?
On some level, she realized now why Maris was so happy about being her backup. They’d just forged a new bond in their friendship, something far more substantial than compliments and conversation, and it filled her with warmth.
Right now, though, she had other things to discuss. “My mother said that one of my grandmothers had passed and left something to me, so I need to make arrangements to sort that out.”
“That’s why she tracked you down today?”
“So she says, but to be honest, I don’t trust her.” Knowing her grandmother, the inheritance could be anything from family photos to substantial funds. Whatever it was, her mother probably knew all about it. “I don’t think she’ll return, but if you see her again, or my father or a lawyer—anyone other than our friends here in the park—”
Proving she understood, Maris said, “I won’t let them anywhere near Jack. Daron or I will have eyes on him every second.”
The added reassurance helped. “Thank you.”
A clatter had both women swiveling toward the door. Jack stormed in, laughing silly, with Chaos hot on his heels. The dog still had bandages around one leg, but he already looked healthier, his pale yellow fur silkier now that it was free of burrs, his ribs no longer visible.
“I won,” Jack said, dropping onto his butt on the floor, legs out, for Chaos to scramble over him. The pup frantically licked his face while Jack laughed some more and attempted to dodge him. In a quick turnabout, Chaos shifted and tried to chew on Jack’s sneaker.
Jack found that hilarious, too. His carefree laughter proved contagious and soon Joy and Maris were chuckling, as well.
Royce and Daron came in right behind Jack. Even amid all the hilarity, they couldn’t disguise their concern. It wasn’t Joy’s intent to ever make Royce worry over her. She’d need to explain that to him, but she put that on hold as she pulled Jack aside and gave him a list of rules.
“I want you to listen to Maris and Daron.”
He nodded, anxious to rejoin the dog.
“Stay right with them,” she emphasized. Better than any single person, Joy understood how quickly a boy his age could run off. “And don’t get too rowdy in the camp store, especially when customers come in.”
“Okay, Mom.”
“Remember to be polite.”
Grinning, he said, “I know, Mom. Don’t worry,” with all the drama of a little boy who just wanted to play.
“Most of all,” she added, pretending to be stern, “have fun.”
When Jack threw his small, strong arms around her waist, she drew him closer, one hand in his fair, silky hair. She clutched him a little too tightly. A little too desperately.
Until that day the doctor had placed Jack in her arms, she hadn’t known real love, couldn’t even have comprehended the scope of an emotion so powerful and deep.
Leading up to his birth, she’d fretted over so many things, and she’d felt sorry for herself.
But the second she’d held her baby boy, her focus had narrowed to razor-sharp intent. She’d both wept and smiled, felt vulnerable and yet infused with iron determination. She’d stopped thinking of Vaughn, because she knew Jack was better off without him in his life. And she quit grieving the separation from her parents, determined instead that she’d pour all the love she had on Jack so that he’d never, ever feel unwanted or unworthy.
Motherhood, she’d learned, was a constant battle of emotions.
Today was no exception.
“I love you.” Joy smoothed down his hair.
“Me, too,” he said by rote, grinning up at her. “Daron’s going to teach Chaos and me some dog tricks.”
Daron clipped the leash onto Chaos’s collar and lifted the squirming bundle into his arms. “We’ll be right here, Joy. No reason to fret.”
“I know.” She did. Truly. Otherwise, she wouldn’t go, but already Jack was excited and she...well, she knew they each deserved the fun planned for today.
Royce stood back, giving her all the time she needed. If it hadn’t been for her mother’s visit, she wouldn’t feel so edgy about going. Trust, she reminded herself. She trusted these people completely.
Hoping she looked confident, Joy smiled at Royce. “Ready?”
Chapter Seven
They were only in the car two minutes when Royce said, “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Lost in thoughts of her mother, the attorney and the idea of an inheritance, Joy replied, “Hmm?” And then it occurred to her, and her eyes widened.
What if Royce had changed his mind about wanting her?
No, she told herself. That couldn’t be it. He was here, so that said something. Yet she still sounded cautious as she asked, “What, exactly, don’t I have to do?”
He shot her a look. “Pretend none of that happened.”
“None of what?”
“Your mother, her attitude. The way you reacted to her.” He lifted one shoulder. “All of it.”
“Actu
ally, I can.” When he gave her another look, she clarified. “I can pretend it didn’t happen. You should do the same.” After all, she’d gotten pretty darned good at pretending she didn’t have a family, that they hadn’t hurt her, that she was just fine and dandy on her own.
Actually, she was fine on her own, no pretending there.
Unfortunately, Royce didn’t let it go. “You don’t want to talk about it?”
She already had, with Maris.
Maris was a friend. She made a good confidante, was supportive without being sappy, funny without being dismissive. Most importantly, Maris hadn’t stressed up front that there were boundaries—as Royce had.
To be considerate, though, she’d be careful about unloading on Maris too many times. She didn’t want to be a buzzkill, not when she and Maris could have so much fun just visiting. And once she found out more about Maris’s upbringing, she’d be better able to return the favors if, when, Maris needed anything.
So far, though, Maris was a rock of independence.
“Joy?” Royce prompted.
He missed the turn toward his house. In fact, they should have been there already. Surprised, she finally took note of their surroundings. The road he remained on would take them into town. “Where are we going?”
“Dinner. It’s a quiet place, so we’ll have some privacy.”
Joy stared at him. That had to be a joke. For what she wanted, no restaurant could provide enough privacy. “I thought we’d go to your house?”
He slowly inhaled, as if bracing himself. “We can go there if that’s what you want.”
“Good.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw and his hands flexed on the steering wheel, gripping, releasing. Gripping again. Following a few seconds of silence, he stated, “After dinner.”
Of all the... Here she was, giving herself a pep talk, all prepared to forge ahead, and he wanted to spend their time on food? Well, he wasn’t the only one here, and what she wanted mattered, too. He wasn’t the inconsiderate sort, so maybe he didn’t know her preference.
Should she tell him? How exactly should she word that request? I’d rather we go to your house, get naked and have sex until we’re both exhausted.
