Sisters of Summer’s End

by Lori Foster

  “It’ll be adorable.”

  Snorting over that nonsense, she warned, “I’ll need to be at the store early.”

  A wide grin made him even more handsome. “No problem.” He bounded up from the bed, gave her a firm, quick kiss and headed for the bathroom.

  “I don’t have a toothbrush,” she called after him, a little flustered at how quickly they’d moved from sex to an overnight visit.

  Bare-assed and not the least bit reticent, he said, “Feel free to use mine.”

  Dropping back to the mattress, Maris laughed. A second later she decided she wanted a quick shower.

  It turned into a long shower...because Daron joined her.

  Then they were both hungry so they ate PB&J sandwiches on the couch while watching an old horror movie. She did use his toothbrush, and he helped her straighten the blankets before they both got into the bed.

  Before Daron could reach for her, Maris grabbed her phone.

  Brows lifting, Daron asked, “Everything okay?”

  “Yup. I just need a second.” Pulling up Joy in her contacts, she texted, He sealed the deal.

  She knew Joy was at the drive-in still, so she didn’t expect a reply—

  What deal are we talking about?

  Grinning, Maris replied, Followed your advice & I’m officially hooked.

  Yay! Knew you would be. :)

  Yes, Joy had been quite certain. Staying the night but will let you know when I’m home. :) Details tomorrow.

  Joy replied with Whoo hoo! Can’t wait.

  Funny, because Maris couldn’t wait, either. It was such a novel thing to have someone close to share her excitement, to celebrate with her, to talk about the most private parts of her life.

  She hesitated, swallowed nervously...but it felt right, so she texted, Luv ya.

  There was a pause, then three hearts came across the screen, followed by, Luv u, too!

  When Maris grinned, Daron asked, “Should I be jealous?”

  “If you want to be jealous of Joy, sure. Knock yourself out.”

  “You’re texting Joy...now?”

  She set the phone on the nightstand and turned toward him. Oh, but he looked incredibly delicious. How had she resisted him for so long?

  Teasing, Maris said, “We tell each other everything.”

  “Is that right?” Tugging the blankets away again, Daron loomed over her. “Guess I better make sure it’s all bragging without any complaints.”

  Maris was about to assure him—but then his mouth was on hers, his hands on her body, and she decided to let him have his way.

  * * *

  After the back-to-back Halloween kid movies ended, Royce breathed a sigh of...relief? They’d wrapped up with a bang, a full lot and a great many happy customers. He’d lost track of the popcorns and hot dogs they’d sold, and the candy counter was now almost empty.

  He had big plans for the off-season, and for reopening in the spring, but for now, he’d get some downtime—which meant more opportunity to further his relationship with Joy.

  He was in the back, wrapping up a few things, when through the open doorway he saw them come into the concession stand.

  Jack slumped against his mother’s hip, looking more asleep than awake. Two nights of movies was clearly throwing him off his schedule, especially after the earlier Halloween festivities in the park.

  Jack and Joy, along with most of the families, had segued directly to his drive-in. More than a few of the kids still wore their costumes.

  Jack had changed into sweats; Royce suspected he’d be sleeping in them. He thought of Joy trying to get a sluggish five-year-old up the outside steps and to his bed, and more than anything, Royce wished he could be there to help. He liked the idea of carrying Jack up and tucking him in.

  He especially liked the idea of being alone with Joy afterward.

  “I’ll be right there,” he told her.

  “We were just going to say goodbye.” She steered Jack one step toward the door.

  “Hold up. I only need a minute.”

  Joy smiled. “All right, if you’re sure we’re not interrupting.”

  “Never.” Even while Royce had fought it, even while she’d fought it, both Joy and Jack had become priorities for him in a very short time.

  Earlier today, when he’d slung Jack over his shoulder and the kid had called him Mr. Nakirk...that was the moment Royce knew he needed the formalities to end.

  Jack was more important to him than that, and he wanted to be more important to him, too.

  Since he hoped Joy would take down the barriers, he’d start encouraging her tonight.

  Headlights repeatedly flashed against the windows of the concession as cars pulled away from the theater. Only one of his employees remained. Cindi, who’d just turned twenty, had proven herself more than capable of locking down the premises.

  Giving her a set of keys for the cases, Royce said, “I’ll be right back.”

  “Take your time. I can handle this.”

  “Thanks.” Royce walked over to where Joy and Jack waited by the door. Joy had to be tired, too, and here he was, keeping her out. “Thanks for coming in.” He lifted Jack so the little boy could rest against his shoulder, then took Joy’s hand. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I want to tell you something.” And I’m dying to kiss you.

  Her smile flickered with curiosity. “Okay, but it will have to be quick. Jack needs his bed.”

  Around a huge yawn, Jack said, “I’m not tired.”

  “Well,” Joy teased, “I am.”

  As he led them to the back room, Royce asked, “The haunted house was a success?”

  “Some girl spilled the food,” Jack voluntarily mumbled. “Then a boy fell and ripped his costume and cried for, like, forever.”

  Joy smoothed his hair. “Ridley got a headache and Phoenix walked her home early, but it was fun.”

  Royce laughed. “Sounds like a rockin’ good time.”

  “Yeah,” Jack said, his head lolling.

  He knew the second Jack nodded off, his little body going boneless against him.

  “Uh-oh,” Joy said. “He’s out. Now you’ll have to carry him to my car.”

  “Not a problem.” Royce leaned his cheek against Jack’s crown, giving him a small hug. How would Joy get him up to bed? Hopefully she wouldn’t try to carry him.

  “You’re good with him,” she said, her voice softer than he’d ever heard it.

  Leaning forward, Royce pressed his mouth to hers in a brief but tender caress. As he drew back, he said, “About Jack...” Unsure how to lead into the topic, he hesitated.

  The gentleness left her, and her eyes turned wary. “What about him?”

  Disliking that look, the one that said she still didn’t completely trust him, Royce stated, “I’d like Jack to call me by name.”

  “You—” Joy blinked, the wariness replaced by surprise. “You want him to call you Royce?”

  “He talks about Coop and Baxter, Phoenix and Ridley, Daron and Maris... I’m the only Mr. in the group and—” he sounded like a kid himself, complaining about being left out. But what the hell? Left out was exactly how he felt “—I want to be part of that group. His group. I am, right? So the Mr. thing has to go.”

  He saw it in her expression, the knowledge that this was another big step, a signal that they were getting serious.

  He was here for the long haul.

  “This area is now my home,” Royce explained. “I don’t want to feel like an outsider.” Shit, that sounded lame. “Especially not with you or Jack.”

  A smile flickered over her lips, one of happiness, maybe understanding. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry I hadn’t thought of it before now.”

  Jack surprised them both by mumbling, “I
wanna call him Royce, too. He’s my friend.”

  They both looked at him, at his angelic little face that showed no signs of being awake.

  “Are you faking?” Royce asked, rubbing his hand up and down Jack’s narrow back.

  No answer. Jack just snuggled in and let out a sigh.

  The grin caught Royce by surprise, and without thinking about it, he gave Jack another slight hug. “Will you be able to get him up to bed?”

  “He cooperates.” Joy watched him with a soft expression he couldn’t quite read, but enjoyed all the same. “Like a little sleepwalker, he puts one foot in front of the other and I just steer. Brushing his teeth is out, though. He cleaned them the best he could in the car with a bottle of water and a travel toothbrush.”

  Damn. Again, she surprised him. “You planned for everything, didn’t you?” And here he’d thought he had a lot of details on his mind.

  “I’ve been bringing Jack to the drive-in for Halloween since he was two. We’ve learned a few shortcuts.”

  Royce tangled his free hand in her hair. “You should win Mom of the Year.”

  With a husky laugh, she said, “Right along with every other mother who’s doing the best she can.” She stepped into him, tilting up to kiss him one more time before saying, “It’s past time for us to go.”

  Royce would have a few minutes more before he could lock up the drive-in, but he carried Jack out and got him buckled in his booster seat in the back. By then, everyone else had left the lot and the screen was dark.

  A cool breeze stirred the night air.

  Tonight, with Joy, it felt like possibilities.

  “Want to get together tomorrow?” So that she wouldn’t think he meant only for sex—though he’d certainly be there in a hot minute if she wanted him to—Royce added, “I’m free whenever. We could do dinner again. My house or yours, or I could take you and Jack out.” He wanted time with her. Hell, he needed it.

  Joy touched his arm. “Hopefully we’ll all sleep in a little, and then I need to take down the haunted house and get the rec center in order. I’m free after that, though. Oh, and Monday I have...errands. So after tomorrow, it’ll probably be Tuesday before I’m available again.”

  It hit Royce that he didn’t know what Joy did in the off-season. He’d been so wrapped up in his own business, his own needs, he hadn’t thought to ask.

  “Tuesday,” he said. “When Jack’s in school, you and I should talk.”

  Solemn, she nodded. “Agreed.”

  “Tomorrow, though, I’ll help you with the cleanup.”

  “Royce—”

  He touched a fingertip to her mouth. “I want to.” He wanted to be with her, regardless of what they did.

  For a moment, she simply stared at him, those green-gold eyes hiding all sorts of secrets. Then she smiled and nodded.

  Accepting him. Accepting them.

  Another step forward. At this rate, he’d have their relationship settled in no time.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tinted floor-to-ceiling windows softened the afternoon sunshine of a blustery but bright Monday. Inside the conference room, the overall mood was edgy and grim. Joy didn’t care. She wouldn’t allow herself to care.

  Spine straight, shoulders back, she sat in a leather chair facing the attorney at the end of a long teakwood table. Her mother and father flanked her, her father’s posture guarded but not unfriendly. Her mother’s, however, screamed of disapproval.

  I expected nothing else, Joy reminded herself. What she thinks no longer matters. It hasn’t mattered for six. Long. Years.

  Ms. Barbara Wickham, a very nice woman in her midsixties, went over details about little divisions of property, photos, jewelry and furnishings. The bulk, of course, went to Joy’s father as Grams’s only child, but she did bequeath respectable settlements to dear friends, her caretaker and her house staff. A few keepsakes would go to Joy, and the kindness of the gesture touched her. One of the items was a whimsical glass elephant that Joy had often admired as a child. That Grams remembered meant the world to her.

  Unfortunately, since her grandmother’s estate was sizable, it took quite a bit of time to cover everything and Joy began watching the clock. At this rate, she’d be cutting it close to get back on time to get Jack from school.

  Before the attorney could finish going over a few other details, her mother’s clipped voice interrupted. “I want to know your intentions.”

  Ms. Wickham paused and glanced at her, a frown in place.

  But of course Cara Reed wasn’t speaking to the attorney. Her icy gaze was leveled on Joy.

  Sighing, Joy pretended her mother wasn’t there. Not an easy feat. She had a limited amount of time to get this done and still get back in time to pick up Jack from school. Arguing with, debating or even acknowledging her mother’s eternal animosity wasn’t worth the effort, or the wasted time.

  Cara Vivien Reed wasn’t easily deterred. Never had been. Once, so very long ago, Joy had admired that about her mother, how she would stick to her principles no matter what.

  Now Joy had a difficult time even thinking of the stubbornness as a principle of any sort.

  Flattening a hand on the table, her mother said low, “What do you plan to do, Joy? And who was that man with you at the trailer park?”

  “RV resort,” Joy corrected, before she could stop herself. Damn it, why did she let her mother provoke her? But even as she thought it, she added, “You disowned me, remember? My plans, my life, are my own.”

  Her mother straightened in a snap, creases forming at either side of her mouth. “Disowned means you don’t inherit.”

  Joy nodded at the attorney. “If that’s so, I have no idea why I’m here.” Honestly, she was more curious than anything else. She’d already heard the phenomenal assets bequeathed to her parents, who were already wealthy. Now they were more so. The numbers hadn’t fazed them, and they meant absolutely nothing to Joy.

  “Family dissension,” Ms. Wickham stated, “may or may not be an influence. So if I may continue?”

  Whoa. Score one for strong women. Joy barely suppressed a smile at the attorney’s calm and professional tone. “Yes, please do.”

  “Wait.” Her father shifted.

  Joy felt him staring at her, and though she didn’t trust her own judgment, she thought his gaze felt...concerned.

  For her mother, or for Joy?

  It was impossible to tell.

  Her father had always deferred to her mother. No, he’d never been unkind to her. Just the opposite.

  But she remembered him as often busy, involved in travel, and for the most part he’d left the parenting decisions to her mother. Joy loved him, yet she’d never shared a special bond of any sort.

  Voice gruff, he said, “I have a question, if I may.”

  After a brief hesitation, the attorney deferred to Joy. “Ms. Lee?”

  She really wanted to get this over with, but couldn’t remain immune to the expression on her father’s face and in his eyes.

  Eyes that, she realized, had aged a lot in the years she’d been gone.

  “If you have the time, Ms. Wickham, then I can also spare an extra minute or two.” Joy almost winced; she’d sounded as cutting as her mother. Softening her tone, she said, “Go on, Daddy.”

  Her father’s mouth firmed, not in anger but almost as if he was suppressing strong emotion. “How are you?”

  Oh. Oh, that’s what he wanted to ask? The inquiry sounded so genuine Joy’s heart began to thaw. Not a good thing under the circumstances. She needed to keep up her guard.

  She needed to end this bitter reunion as quickly as possible, before she crumpled.

  Leaning forward, her father said, “Tell me, honey. How have you been? Are you well?”

  “I am, yes,” she said slowly, touched by the warmth in his gaze. “I’m doing q
uite well.”

  He studied her face for only a moment, and his mouth softened. Sitting back, he said, “Good. I so often wondered...”

  Her mother cleared her throat. Loudly. “Wallace—”

  With a single look he shut her down. “We’re here for a reason, Cara. Allow me to get to it.”

  For a reason? An inheritance, only that and nothing more, Joy reminded herself.

  So why did it suddenly feel like more?

  The urge to run had her breathing faster, yet pride kept her in her seat.

  He smiled at Joy. Toying with a pen on the table, he asked, “How did you...?” He clutched the pen. “Joy, honey, how did you...?” Again he faded out. “I see your necklace is gone.”

  The necklace? Joy’s fingers automatically reached to her throat, then fell away because there was nothing there to touch. Not for years had she thought about the gift given to her on her thirteenth birthday. A gift she’d cherished for so very long.

  All of the jewelry she’d parted with had gone to a greater cause than sentiment. Namely: survival. “I sold it, along with the rest of my jewelry. Is that what you’re asking?”

  “Sold?” he repeated with a stricken expression.

  “Pawned actually.” Talking about it dredged up the desperation she’d felt back then. It shored up her resolve...and sharpened her tone. “I learned all about pawning jewelry for cash.”

  “Dear God,” her mother whispered, equal parts horrified and dismayed.

  Her dad looked so old suddenly, older than his seventy years.

  On the other side of her, her mother remained silent...and almost worried?

  Why not tell them? She could sum up her life in only a few short sentences. “If you recall, I left with my clothes, my jewelry and a few of my personal possessions.” Fortunately, that included a limited savings account, though it hadn’t taken her very far. “Without a job, I knew I’d run out of funds pretty quickly, so I sold the jewelry and then looked for work that would allow me to be both a mother and an employee. The park was perfect for me because...” Did she really want her mother to know where she lived, as well as where she worked?

  Yes. Because it no longer mattered. Never again would she allow her mother to intimidate or bully her.