“We’ll have to see.” He wasn’t sure he could bear another night at Luca’s unless they managed a way to ditch the kids afterward. Pasta, wine, and chocolate were going to be major turn-ons for him for a long time. Did that make him weird or what?
Therese’s minivan was parked in the driveway, and Jacob was walking across the yard from the school bus stopped one house down. When Keegan pulled into the driveway, the kid tugged out his earbuds, letting them dangle around his neck, and lifted one hand in a wave. Dropping his backpack at the steps, he came to the car and opened the rear passenger door to unbuckle Mariah. “Hey, Keegan. Hey, cookie monster.”
“We got flowers!”
“Cool. Therese likes flowers. You want to ride or help carry?”
“Ride.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, then, when he straightened, wiggled around until she was on his back. She made the transfer as if she’d done it a dozen times before. Considering the amount of time she’d spent with him and Abby, maybe she had.
“Hold on.” He bent, grabbed a large bag of potting soil from the floorboard with one hand, then headed for the gate that led to the backyard.
Keegan watched a moment, wishing he’d been taking pictures the past week. It was an important thing, getting to know her brother and sister, even if none of them ever knew their relationship. The best he could do was get some shots later with his cell phone, something simple enough, common enough, that neither the subjects nor Therese would wonder why he was photographing them.
As he carried three large pots with a flat of flowers balanced on top onto the patio, the back door opened and Therese stepped out. She always greeted him with a smile, but this time it grew a little brighter when she saw what he had. “I adore a man who brings flowers.”
“Hey, Trace!” Letting go of Jacob’s neck, Mariah leaned far to the side to swing into Therese’s arms, giving her a kiss once she was settled. “I brung flowers, too.”
“Hi, sweetie. I adore little girls with flowers, too. And big guys with potting soil.”
She smoothed Jacob’s hair where Mariah had messed it up, the movement not quite natural. Going still, Keegan watched the boy for a reaction, but he didn’t give one. If he welcomed the touch, didn’t want it, or even noticed, it didn’t show on his face. He just shrugged his shoulders as if relaxing them and asked, “Is there more?”
“A couple of flats, more soil, and a bag of mulch in the trunk.”
“You get the flowers,” Jacob said as they headed back to the car. “I only do heavy lifting.”
“The only jobs I’ve ever had have required occasionally carrying people who weigh twice what you do. I’m happy to take the flowers.”
The boy gave him an appraising glance. “You’re a medic, right? What else?”
“I was a firefighter before I joined the Army.”
“Huh. A medic’s kind of like a doctor, isn’t it?”
“Sometimes better than.”
“Medics and doctors couldn’t save my dad.”
Though his tone was matter-of-fact, Keegan’s gut knotted. Jacob rarely brought up his father’s death with Therese. Maybe he thought it would be too hard for her to discuss; maybe he felt, as the man in the family, he didn’t have the right to burden anyone else or there just wasn’t anyone to listen. In his years as a paramedic, then a medic, Keegan had learned there were times when all he could do was listen.
“Yeah, I know,” he said quietly. “But they did their best, Jacob. It’s just sometimes your best isn’t good enough.”
They stopped at the back of the car, Jacob staring hard across the street, his cheeks pink, his eyes narrowed. “My dad always said your best was all anyone could ask. If it’s not good enough, why bother?”
“Because that’s what we do. We try. We try really hard. And usually it is enough. I’m sorry it wasn’t for your dad.”
After staring a moment longer, Jacob turned and met his gaze head-on. “Did anyone you took care of ever die? Even though you tried really hard?”
Keegan swallowed. “Yeah. I will always remember every one of them and wish it could have been different. But I also remember the ones I did help, the lives we did save, the ones who survived to come home to their families because of us.”
“I wish my dad had been one of them.” Jacob’s whisper was almost lost in the rumble of another school bus stopping in the middle of the street.
“So do I, buddy.” And he meant it. But what a difference it would have made in his life. Therese would still have been happily married, grateful to have her husband back from war whole and healthy. Jacob and Abby would have been happier, too, better adjusted, feeling less abandoned. They would have been a perfect little family, Therese would have dealt with Paul’s infidelity, and they would have welcomed Mariah into their lives.
And Keegan never would have known what he’d missed.
Abby climbed off the bus, the skirt of her school uniform already rolled a time or two at the waist to shorten it, her head cocked to the side while she listened to the tall, slender girl with her. They talked a moment, then the other girl headed down the street while Abby turned her attention to Jacob and Keegan. Her gaze slid to the open trunk, the soil her brother was hefting onto his shoulder, and the flowers, and she shook her head. “I hope you’re not expecting me to help with that because I’m telling you now, I don’t do manual labor.”
“No one’s expecting you to do anything, Princess Whine,” Jacob retorted, then snorted at his own words, sounding very much like a pig. “Princess Swine. Get it?”
Abby drew herself up to every inch of her not-so-impressive height and gave her brother a steely gaze. “You are such a child.”
“Jerk-face.”
“Moron.” Nose in air, she passed the car and headed for the steps, where she gave Jacob’s backpack a not-so-delicate nudge off the sidewalk.
Keegan set the flowers on the ground, lifted the mulch from the trunk, then closed it. The lock beeped automatically. “She’s not so bad for a big sister, is she?”
“Nah. Kinda like a heart attack’s not so bad if the alternative is cancer.”
They delivered the bags to the patio, then returned for the flowers. When they got back, Therese was kneeling beside the pots, using a screwdriver to enlarge the drainage holes. Abby had already changed into shorts and a T-shirt, gotten grapes and a can of pop from the refrigerator, and was sharing one of the lawn chairs dragged into the late-afternoon sun with Mariah. Both their heads were tilted back, eyes closed, arms and legs stretched out to gain maximum exposure.
Jacob gave another coarse pig snort, which Abby pretended not to hear, then grinned. “I’m gonna change, then get something to eat. Want something?”
“Nah,” Keegan said. “I’ll wait until dinner.”
“He’d be in heaven on a cruise,” Therese commented as the door closed. “He’d be present for every seating of every meal, then would hang out by the buffet tables the rest of the day.”
“He’s a human garbage disposal,” Abby said archly. “And if he calls me Princess Swine again, I’m going to unleash my minions in his room. You my minion, Riah?”
“Uh-huh. What’s a meanion?”
Tuning out Abby’s answer, Keegan hunkered down beside Therese, pulled out a pocketknife, and slit open the first bag of soil, then the mulch. “So…the colors work for you?”
“They’re gorgeous. Exactly what I would have chosen.” Her smile was sweet and a little sly. “My father told me to beware of men bearing gifts.”
“Isn’t that supposed to be Trojans?”
“It’s supposed to be Greeks. The Trojans were the ones taken in by the gift.” Her forehead wrinkled for a moment in thought, then she said, a little softer so the girls couldn’t hear, “I’m positive he would tell me to beware of men bearing Trojans.”
Her reference to condoms surprised a laugh from him. “These days you have to be more wary of men who don’t have them. All kinds of things can go wrong.”
�
�Or maybe right.” She sighed as her gaze flitted to Mariah. Having a little kid around had reawakened her maternal instincts. Having her around had awakened his version of the same.
“I told Mariah to call me Daddy,” he admitted as she spread a layer of mulch in the bottoms of the pots. “She was, like, yeah, whatever, can I go play in the fountain?”
“Disappointed?”
He shrugged.
“She’ll do it. And you won’t regret it.”
“Promise? Because I see a lot of years before us of butting heads, slamming doors, temper tantrums, and her saying no no no, I do my own self.”
“Now it’s dressing and feeding herself. In two years it’ll be school, and in ten years it’ll be boys.”
“Oh, no. Not before she’s twenty.”
Not bothering with gloves—Ercella said they took the pleasure from digging in dirt—he and Therese scooped handfuls of potting soil into the first pot. “Poor guy. So naïve. I’d almost feel sorry for you if I didn’t envy you.”
Help me raise her. Marry me, make a family with me, let me help you with Abby and Jacob, and you help me with Mariah. The words almost slipped out, though any rational person would say it was way too soon to be so damned serious.
But if there was one thing Logans didn’t worry about, it was being rational, especially when it came to their love lives. Things happen when they happen. That was their family motto. That was why Ercella had four more kids with his father after it became obvious Max wasn’t father material. Why Martha and Daisy had married right out of high school. Why Ford had moved to Arizona to be with a woman he hadn’t yet had a single date with.
Things happen when they happen.
And sometime in the last week and a half, he’d fallen in love with Therese Matheson.
* * *
Though Mariah had requested spaghetti for dinner, Therese offered a compromise with a ziti, mozzarella, and pepperoni casserole from the freezer, a salad, toasted Italian bread, and spread made from garlic cloves simmered in olive oil. It was Abby’s favorite dinner, and one Jacob, aka the human disposal, liked as well. They ate in the kitchen, an extra chair squeezed into the table for four, and it was fun. Normal. The way a family dinner should be.
Not that they were technically a family, a snide voice inside reminded her. Someday they might be.
Or maybe not.
From her chair, Therese could see the three pots, planted with bright flowers, lining the edge of the patio, and the sight made her smile. Who else would have thought to bring her flowers, everything needed to plant them, and to help with the planting? They meant more to her than any other gift Keegan could have offered. They touched her heart and in a good way, all happiness, no sorrow.
When the doorbell rang, Jacob was already on his way to the island to refill his plate, so he said, “I’ll get it,” and headed that way. A moment later a soft female voice filtered down the hallway, not Carly’s, not Nicole’s, and a moment after that, he returned to the kitchen, his face set in a stark scowl. As he veered toward the table, second helping forgotten, Therese saw the woman, so petite his broad shoulders had hidden her from view, and her heart stopped.
“Baby!” Catherine exclaimed, opening both arms wide. “I’ve come to take you home!”
Abby’s shriek split the air, and her chair tumbled back as she jumped to her feet and raced into her mother’s arms. Keegan caught the chair and set it down again, his gaze moving from the tearful reunion to Therese, then back again. She was too numb to move, too stunned to breathe.
Catherine wanted Abby back. Therese’s prayers had been answered.
And all she could think was No no no!
“Oh, Mom, I’ve been hoping and hoping, but it’s been so long and I thought— This is the best surprise ever! Ooh, it’s so perfect!” Abby’s voice broke, and she hid her face in her mother’s shoulder.
Cold emptiness spread through Therese. She was aware of Jacob sliding his chair a little closer to hers, of Keegan reaching under the table to take her hand, but only in a distant way. She couldn’t reach out to Jacob—who clearly wasn’t the baby his mother had missed so much—or return the squeeze of Keegan’s hand. She could hardly register the bewildered look Mariah wore, clearly aware of the sudden tension in the room. The girl slid out of her chair, knocking her cushions to the floor, and circled the table to Keegan, climbing into his lap, whispering, “Daddy.”
See? she wanted to say. I told you she’d call you Daddy.
Too soon—for Abby’s sake, at least—Catherine pushed her back, slid her arm around her shoulders, and beamed a smile at the rest of them. “Hello, Therese.”
“Catherine.”
Abby gestured. “That’s Keegan and his daughter, Mariah, and this is my mom, Catherine Matheson.” There was such pride in her voice, such joy in her smile. She looked like a little girl who’d never seen a holiday getting a lifetime of Christmases and birthdays all at once.
Catherine’s interest in the Logans was somewhere between nil and none. Keegan was obviously a soldier, and she’d hated the Army, and she didn’t even glance at Mariah. When she could ignore her own children for months at a time, why would she notice someone else’s?
“I probably should have called,” Catherine said, “but I really wanted to surprise Abs. So I took a few days off, packed my bags, and here I am.”
“Sit down, Mom,” Abby encouraged, taking the pillows Mariah had sat on to a counter stool and pushing Catherine toward the chair. “Are you hungry? We have pasta and salad and garlic bread.”
“You know I don’t eat pasta or bread. All those carbs. Besides, I had a late lunch.”
All those carbs. Therese studied her as she primly sat in the chair and crossed her legs. They’d met face to face fewer than a dozen times in the years they’d known each other, usually for less than ten minutes. Still, the changes were striking. She was thin, with surgically enhanced boobs that had apparently been part of finding herself. Her dark hair was bleached to a silvery-white blond that didn’t exist in nature, her brown eyes were now brilliant sapphire, and her forehead was so smooth that Therese would bet she couldn’t show surprise if she wanted to, thanks to the miracle of Botox.
“So when do we leave?” Abby asked. “Have you already found a new place to live? Is it a house or another apartment? Do you know what school we’ll be going to? Maybe I can meet some kids on Facebook who go there so I won’t be totally new on my first day.”
Catherine patted her leg. “We’re going to stay in the apartment I have for now.”
Abby’s nose wrinkled. “But it’s only two bedrooms. That means Jacob will have to sleep on the couch.”
Jacob snorted, then went still as a look came over Catherine’s face. Discomfort. Awkwardness. She tried to disguise it by smiling at her son, but it was so obviously phony that even Mariah could see through it.
“Well, baby, I thought…You know I love you, Jacob, but…right now it would just be you and me, Abs. Jacob’s got his school and his sports and his friends, and…” Catherine shrugged helplessly.
Had Therese thought she’d turned cold before? Now she was absolutely icy inside. Catherine wanted only Abby, not Jacob. She’d already abandoned him once, and now she was rejecting him again, displaying such incredible selfishness that Therese wanted to smack her. She wanted to throw her out of the house, to magically erase the last five minutes from everyone’s memories.
“I’ve got school and friends, too,” Abby said, sounding confused. “I’ll go to a new school and make new friends. So will Jacob. Of course he’s got to go with us. You can’t—We can’t—”
“That’s okay,” Jacob said flatly. “I didn’t like California. I’d rather stay here.” Scowling hard, he pushed out of his chair. “I’ve got homework to do.” On the way from the room, he grabbed a handful of cookies from the platter on the island, then stalked off.
Therese’s heart ached, but she couldn’t move to go after him. She was barely managing to suck air into her lun
gs. Keegan gave her hand another squeeze. “We’ll go upstairs,” he murmured. Grateful, she nodded, and he and Mariah left the kitchen. A moment later, his treads sounded softly on the stairs.
“Well, that wasn’t the best way to break the news, was it?” Catherine brushed at her shoulder, surreptitiously checking for any stains Abby might have transferred in her hug—she couldn’t fool a kindergarten teacher—then sighed, reminding Therese where Abby got her flair for drama. “But then, there’s no best way to tell him he’s got to stay here a while longer, is there?”
A lot of the thrill had gone from Abby’s face. She’d dreamed about moving back with Catherine from the time she’d been sent away, but she’d always dreamed Jacob would be going with her. They were sister and brother, a team that mostly ignored or called each other names, but still a team. “I don’t understand why he can’t come, too.”
Catherine’s perfectly glossed lips curved into a perfectly phony smile. “It’s not forever, baby. I just think you and I need some girl time. Remember how he spent spring break? Playing that stupid video game, grumbling along behind us while we shopped, not interested in anything we did except when he was going to eat again.”
“Well, Mom, we didn’t do anything any boy would have liked besides eat. It was all pretty much about you and me.”
Catherine’s smile somehow got more perfect. God help her, the woman didn’t realize she’d just been subtly chastised by her daughter. “Exactly. So you and I will get our girl time out of the way, and soon we’ll send for Jacob.”
“Soon.” Abby repeated the word quietly, as if she was trying to encourage herself to believe it. She must have done a decent job because the confusion gave way to sheer excitement again. “I’m so glad to see you, Mom, this is so cool! When will we be leaving for California?”
With a slender hand bearing more rings, possibly, than Therese owned, Catherine smoothed a strand of Abby’s hair. “I’m not sure, Abs. There are a few things I need to settle with Therese first. But I’m staying in town. I’ve found a quaint little bed-and-breakfast that’s almost like a real hotel, and I’d like for you to stay there with me.”
A Man to Hold on to (A Tallgrass Novel) Page 26
