Was it possible to lose twenty pounds in an afternoon without hacking off a limb? Outlook doubtful. But if she wanted to wear anything other than sweats for tonight’s party, she at least needed to try.
“YOU’RE NOT GOING to kiss him again, are you?” Oliver asked on the walk to Jackson and Dillon’s home. Ordinarily, Ella would’ve driven, but seeing how her bathroom scale said she still had nineteen and three-quarter pounds to lose, she figured the workout couldn’t hurt.
“That’s none of your business,” she told her eldest son.
“And I’d appreciate it if you at least try being polite to Jackson tonight. He likes you two very much.”
Owen piped in with, “He didn’t seem like he liked us this morning when he yelled at us.”
“When did he yell at you?”
“At the grocery store. He told us to ‘knock off the sass.’”
“Oliver,” she asked, shifting the heavy casserole dish she carried from one arm to the other, “is that true?”
“I guess,” he said, popping a wheelie with Rose’s stroller, “but we were kinda mean to him.”
“Stop doing that with the baby,” she scolded before asking, “What did you do?” She stepped over a broken section of sidewalk.
“Told him he was a cheater ’cause he was marrying Dillon’s mom, but kissing you.”
Ella’s stomach was already in a bad way, but that little snippet made her intestines seize.
“I hate Dawn,” Oliver admitted, “because she cheated with Dad. I don’t want you to be a cheater, too.”
“Boys,” she said, setting the casserole on Elda Loenstein’s low rock wall. “One thing you need to know about me and Jackson is that while yes, Dillon’s mom would like to get back together with him one day, they aren’t a couple now. He’s single. Just like me. Do you understand that? Do you guys get the fact that neither one of us is cheating?”
“I guess,” Oliver said. “But I still don’t like him.”
“How can you say that? Ever since your dad left, Jackson’s the one who’s taken you fishing and played catch with you and let you camp out in his backyard.”
“But he kissed you,” Owen interjected, swinging the decorated bag filled with candy for Jackson’s dad. “Only we’re allowed to kiss you.”
Sighing, Ella didn’t know where to begin. How did she explain to eight-year-olds that their hugs and kisses were no longer enough? To say such a thing would break their hearts. Yet, lately, since Jackson had come into her life, she’d felt as though if he didn’t stay in her life, hers would be the heart that was broken.
Across the street, Miles Polk started up his mower. The rush of pollen and dust made Owen sneeze.
“God bless you,” she said to her youngest, ruffling his fine hair. “We’d better get going, huh?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Owen said, “till you promise you’re not going to do any more kissing.”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Mr. Tate.”
Jackson took Rose from her stroller while Ella introduced herself to his father, then his mother.
“Dillon has told us so much about you,” his bouffant-coifed mother said. “I know we have to have met at some point or another.”
“We have,” Ella said with a gracious smile, shaking both of their hands. “It’s been at least five years, though.”
“Well, it’s good to see you again.”
“Here’s your present,” Owen said, thrusting the bag at Jackson’s dad. “It’s lots of little candy bars. Snickers and stuff.”
“Thank you.” The birthday boy helped himself to a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup.
“Walter…” his wife warned. “Your cholesterol.”
“I’m sorry,” Ella said, “had I known, I would have gotten you a nice coffee table book.”
“It’s all right,” Jackson’s mother assured Ella. “His number’s not all that high, but you can never be too careful.”
“Ella, you made it,” Julie said, sailing in from the kitchen. She wore an expensive-looking pink sundress, over which she’d tied a black-and-white gingham apron. “Hey, guys,” she said to the twins. “Dillon’s out back playing Frisbee with his cousins.”
“Rick and Vicky?” Owen asked.
Oliver groaned. “Vicky’s mean. She tried to put lipstick on me last time she was here.”
“Come on,” Jackson said, his hand on Oliver’s back. “I’ll take you out and tell Vicky to cool it with her makeup.” The girl was five and had already decided on a career in high fashion.
“I’ll go by myself,” Oliver said, scrunching out from under Jackson’s touch.
“Suit yourself,” Jackson said, “but if she nails you with her new mascara, don’t come cryin’ to me.”
“What’s mask-scara?” Owen asked.
“Superscary stuff,” Jackson said. “Come on, I want to see what my brother’s up to.”
Jackson had never been close with his older brother, Liam. Ten years his senior, by the time Jackson had been able to drive, Liam had already bought a home and car, and was on his way to getting married. Unfortunately, he was now divorced due to a case of irreconcilable differences. This was one of the rare times Liam got to be with his children. He had joint custody, but only had them one weekend per month because his ex lived a couple of hundred miles away.
“How’s it going?” Jackson asked his brother out on the patio.
Liam was flipping burgers. The deliciously smoky scent of beef had Jackson’s stomach growling. Julie had tackled the Mexican portion of the meal with an enchilada casserole and tacos. “Everything’s just about done,” he said before turning the kids’ hot dogs.
“Thanks for handling this,” Jackson said. “Mom’s had me inside, lecturing me on how to put some special rinsing stuff in the dishwasher.”
Laughing, Liam said, “I feel your pain, bro. She gave me the same lecture a couple of years back. Just roll with it. It makes her feel important to make us feel like idiots.”
“I think you’re right.”
Liam added American cheese slices to the burgers, then said, “While I’ve got you to myself, I wanted to tell you how happy I am about you and Julie getting back together.”
“Where’d you hear that?” Jackson asked.
“Dillon. He’s damned excited about getting his mom back.” Shaking his head, Liam said, “I never did understand Julie’s leaving. Guess she finally came to her senses. I know I’d give anything for a second chance with Barb. Divorce is an ugly, ugly thing.”
“Yeah,” Jackson said, “only I’m not so sure I want to take Julie up on her offer to move back. She hurt me. Bad.”
“See those kids over there?” Liam nodded toward his two.
“Every time I have to leave them, I feel like a piece of me is dying. I know you didn’t ask for my advice, but I’m giving it to you anyway. Do whatever it takes to get—and keep—Julie in your and Dillon’s lives. She’s an amazing lawyer with connections that’d make your head spin. If she wanted to take Dillon from you, it’d be a snap.”
“She wouldn’t do that,” Jackson said, using the grill lighter to ignite citronella candles.
“You sure? Like, bet-on-Dillon’s-life sure?”
“That’s nuts.”
“Is it? I’m living proof, man, that the old saying about hell and a scorned woman is one-hundred-percent true.”
“There you are,” Julie said, appearing with a clean plate for the hot dogs and burgers. “Everything almost done?”
“Yep,” Liam said, settling a companionable arm about her slim shoulders, then kissing her cheek. “It’s good having you back, sis. I’ve missed you.”
“Liar,” she teased. “All you’ve missed are my potato salad and brownies.”
“Guilty,” he said with a wince. “Speaking of which, we are having both tonight, right?”
“Right.” His roundabout compliment to Julie’s two signature dishes earned Liam an affectionate return kiss. “I’ve missed you, too.”
Jac
kson had forgotten how well Liam and Julie had gotten along. As a hardcore stockbroker, Liam’s type-A personality was closer to Julie’s than Jackson’s had ever been.
“Need a hand?” All three adults already on the patio looked at Ella.
Vicky came running over and asked, “Who are you?”
“I’m Ella,” she said, “and you must be one of Dillon’s cousins.”
“Uh-huh,” the little girl said. “Want me to do your makeup?” From her pink backpack, she pulled an amazingly complete makeup kit.
“Thank you so much,” Ella said. “I could probably use a touch-up on my blush.”
“Sit there,” Vicky commanded, never having been shy and pointing to the chaise where Ella and Jackson had kissed the night she’d been here for dinner. Jackson caught her stare. Did she remember?
Her hastily ducked gaze and cheeks rosy red without the help of blush told him she did.
“Be kind, Miss Vicky,” Liam warned, as he and Julie turned to talk privately.
“I will,” she said, her pout making her look mortally wounded that her dad didn’t have complete faith in her talent.
“Make me gorgeous,” Ella requested.
Surreptitiously kissing the top of Ella’s head, Jackson said in a for-her-ears-only tone, “You don’t need much help in that department.”
“Aren’t you a charmer?” Ella glanced up, a twinkle in her eyes.
“I try.”
“Quit talking!” The makeup artist hit Jackson with one of her brushes.
“Ouch. What are you hitting me for?”
Vicky fisted her hands on her hips. “Because you keep making google eyes at her, and I’m trying to make her pretty.”
Lord, was he that obvious? Luckily, Liam was busy chatting up Julie and hadn’t heard his daughter. “Since I’m not wanted at the beauty parlor, I’m going to check on my folks. You going to be all right?” He brushed Ella’s shoulder, her skin as soft as warm silk.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, grinning up at him. “I can tell I’m in expert hands.”
Liam, carrying the plate of burgers and hot dogs, followed Jackson inside.
They were alone in the kitchen when Liam asked, “What in Sam Hill do you think you’re doing?”
“Excuse me?” Jackson tensed.
“Ella. You’ve got a thing for her, don’t you? Here you’ve got a once-in-a-lifetime shot at the perfect do-over, and you’re shooting it straight to hell.”
“Anyone ever tell you to mind your own business?” Turning his back on his brother, Jackson grabbed the ketchup, mustard and mayo from the fridge.
“I’d love to, but I’m worried about you doing the right thing. Admittedly, Doc Ella’s pretty and smart and seems nice enough, but we’re talking Julie. She used to be everything to you. And then there’s Dillon. He’s wholly invested in you and Julie getting back together. If that doesn’t happen, can you even imagine what that’s going to do to him?”
Trying to keep as tight a hold on his emotions as he had on the mayo jar, Jackson said, “Get this straight. I love my boy. I’d do anything to make Dillon happy.”
“If you truly mean that,” Liam said, slamming the plate of burgers on the counter before opening a sack of buns, “publicly announce you and Julie are getting back together. Nothing would make Dad happier.”
Chapter Fifteen
Ella closed her eyes while Jackson’s niece applied eye shadow. Truth be told, she was a tad spooked about what she might end up looking like, especially since Julie was looking her glamorous best. But the kid lover in Ella couldn’t turn down an adorable little girl’s request.
“You need blush,” Vicky said. “Lots and lots and lots of blush.”
“Thank you,” Ella said, laughing. “But maybe you should leave off one of the lots?”
“No,” the girl said with a firm shake of her head.
“Vicky…” Jackson’s brother warned, stepping back outside.
“What, Daddy? I’m making her—what was your name again?”
“Ella.”
“Yeah, I knew that was it.” The child waved her purple lipstick. “Okay, now pucker up, Ella, like you’re gonna kiss Uncle Jack.”
“Vicky,” Liam said, a harsh edge to his voice. “That’s enough. Get inside and wash up for dinner.”
When the girl had left, Ella rose. “Is everything all right?”
“Peachy.” His condemning stare spoke volumes. Did he suspect she and his brother were secretly an item? If so, would it be safe to assume he disapproved? “By the way, dinner’s ready.”
Julie had set a lovely table in the dining room. With the leaves in, the gleaming cherry table sat the whole crowd comfortably. Crystal wineglasses caught the low-hanging chandelier’s dim light, and flickering candles completed a romantic setting that seemed incongruous to the evening’s picnic and fiesta fare. Three silver vases held fragrant white roses and lilies with ivy draping the sides. The setting was completed by soft classical music Ella didn’t recognize, but enjoyed.
“Jules, my girl,” Jackson’s father said, “I’d forgotten what a fine spread you put on. Welcome back to the family, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Dad.” Julie raised her glass. “To Walter, may each birthday surprise top the last. Cheers.”
“Cheers,” all gathered said, raising their glasses as well.
Down at the kids’ end of the table, where Ella’s name card had been located, everyone drank sparkling cider instead of the champagne the grown-ups had been served. Ella had asked for bubbly, but since Jackson’s parents weren’t big drinkers, Julie had only purchased one bottle. By the time she’d reached Ella’s glass, only a few drops had come out.
Rose was the lucky one, zonked out in her carrier in a quiet corner of the living room.
“I didn’t want to sit by you,” Dillon whispered for Ella’s ears only. “My mom made me, and she said I have to be nice.”
“I thought we were friends,” she said. “What happened?”
Ignoring her, he squirted a sea of ketchup onto his plate.
“Dillon?” she prodded while her boys were busy chatting with Rick. “Please, sweetie, talk to me.”
“I. Don’t. Want. To.”
Okay…
“Vicky,” Julie said, “you did a pretty job with Ella’s makeup.”
“Thanks.” The girl beamed before biting into a hot dog smothered in mustard and relish.
Ella’s stomach sank.
After Liam’s downright hostile behavior toward her, she’d forgotten to check herself out in the powder room mirror before joining the others. Just how awful did she look? Convinced her complexion was now clownlike, when no one peered her way, she wiped her cheeks with her ivory cloth napkin.
“That was some town meeting the other night, wasn’t it?” Walter asked, his plate piled high with Mexican food, and a burger poised at his lips.
“Honey, don’t bring up such unpleasantness at the table,” his wife admonished.
“It’s okay, Dad,” Jackson said. “It’s your birthday. Let her rip.”
After casting a victorious glance at his wife, Walter said, “I think I will.”
“Wait,” Ella interjected, “first, let me say I wholeheartedly agree with you in that the meeting was a sham. The fact that our illustrious city leaders want to demolish the Taggart Theater—one of the state’s first—to make room for a car lot. Well…” She shook her head. “It’s unconscionable. In fact—”
“Ell…” Jackson cleared his throat.
“Wait a sec,” she said, “I’m just getting fired up. When I heard how the board was planning to vote, I—”
“Dorothy,” Walter said, pushing back his chair and standing. “Get your purse. We’re leaving.”
“What’s wrong?” Jackson’s mother asked. “Is your acid indigestion flaring up?”
“She’s what’s wrong,” Walter said, pointing down the table at Ella. “Young lady, that’s not just any old car lot being proposed for that site, but min
e. I enjoy a historic building as much as anyone in this town, but that particular building would cost millions to restore, and even then, feasibility studies have shown the likelihood of a space that size generating a working income is—” He clutched his chest, and Ella was instantly out of her chair.
“What’s wrong?” she asked at his side, grabbing his wrist to take a pulse. “Is it your heart?”
“No, you silly woman. My heart’s fine, but thanks to you, my stomach feels like it’s on fire.”
“Dad,” Jackson said, on his feet, as well, “calm down. Ella didn’t mean anything personal. She had no idea you’re behind the—”
“It’s okay,” Ella said, fighting back tears. How had this night gone from bad to even worse? She’d known she should’ve stayed home. Why, why hadn’t she listened to that inner voice telling her to steer clear of this cozy Tate family gathering? Especially when Julie had been involved. Trouble was, as much as Ella wanted to blame the night’s horrors on Jackson’s ex, the truth was she had no one but herself to blame. “I’ll go. Walter, I’m sorry if my views upset you. Boys,” she called to the twins. “Let’s head home.”
“I’ll take you,” Jackson said.
“No, Dad!” Dillon pushed back his chair so hard, it tipped, then ran to his father, tossing his arms around him. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Dillon…” Jackson looked to the ceiling before returning his son’s affection.
“I’ll run you home in Jackson’s SUV,” Liam said, already out of his chair. “You’ve got a baby seat, right?”
Jackson nodded. He glanced her way, then down to his son, still clinging to him. “Thanks, bro.”
“No problem. Ready?” he asked Ella and her crew.
“Walter,” Dorothy said, “the boys haven’t even finished their dinner. You don’t really want them to go, do you?”
Without saying a word, Walter sat back down and picked up his burger.
“I’m so sorry,” Dorothy Tate said, bustling after Owen and Oliver, picking up their plates. “Let me just wrap these to go.”
Three Boys And A Baby (American Romance) Page 16
