Grateful to be mostly warm again, she opened the oven to pop in two loaves of banana bread. For a moment, she spread her hands close to the heat before she made herself close the oven door.
The house phone rang. She might have called for one of the kids to answer it, except she hadn’t needed to bother. There wasn’t a second ring. Either Molly or Josh had grabbed it.
That phone was ringing more and more often. Molly and her small group of friends didn’t think they had enough time to talk during the school day. They made up for it with lengthy conversations once they got home. Teenage years, here we come.
Since Josh was also in the big house until dinnertime if not later every day, his friends had this number, too. His conversations, at least, tended to be brief.
Surprised to hear silence instead of voices, she wiped the counter and then walked toward the family room. Jenna was hardly ever quiet, and if the call had been for Molly, Anna would have expected her to bring the phone out to the living room in search of privacy. Increasingly puzzled, she stepped into the wide doorway to the family room.
In profile to her, Josh held the phone to his ear. He stood very still, his expression reminding her of how he’d received the news that his father was dead. Molly and Jenna both stared at him.
“Who is Josh talking to?” Anna asked, trying to keep her voice down.
At almost the same instant, he thrust the phone at Molly. “She wants to talk to you.” At that moment, Josh saw Anna. Face stricken, he bumped her as he ran from the room.
She spun, but couldn’t see him. Not hearing any door opening or closing, Anna guessed he’d flung himself down on a sofa in the living room.
After a desperate glance at Anna, Molly clutched the phone. Her huddled posture suggested she’d rather be doing anything else in the world but listening to the caller.
Sonja.
Furious, Anna crossed the room and took the phone out of Molly’s hand. “Sonja?”
“I was talking to my daughter.” Except every word was slurred. “What do you want?”
“I want you not to call when Nate isn’t home. You’re in no condition to be speaking to Molly. From now on, they won’t be answering the phone. I will be.” She pushed End, then set the phone down with more force than she intended.
She crouched and wrapped an arm around Molly’s narrow shoulders. “Are you okay, honey?”
Molly shrugged.
“Who was that?” Jenna burst out.
Anna kept her attention on Molly. “Do you know what she said to Josh?”
Molly shook her head, but didn’t meet her eyes.
Anna kissed the top of her head. “From now on, when your dad isn’t home, let me answer the phone. Okay?”
She nodded.
Anna hugged her and said, “I should track down Josh. And put dinner on.”
“But, Mommy, why won’t you tell me...?”
She gave a gentle tug on Jenna’s ponytail. “Because you’re being nosy.”
“But I wanna know!”
Anna laughed even though she didn’t feel like it.
She found Josh huddled at one end of a leather sofa that faced the view of the lake through the two sets of French doors. His face had a stony set that didn’t change when she sat down next to him.
“Are you going to talk to me?” she asked after a minute.
Lips compressed, he turned a burning stare on her. “She said it’s Nate’s fault that Dad died.”
Her ribs felt as if they were about to crack. Fury at that hateful woman mixed with guilt and her own confusion; yet, somehow she kept her voice almost tranquil. “You know he wasn’t even there, so how could it be his fault?”
“Because he was supposed to be there!” he shouted.
Anna looked away from his enraged face for a minute, gathering her thoughts. She’d hoped he would never hear about Sonja’s accusations; she should have known better.
“We’ve talked about this before. Several things went wrong, leading to your dad’s death.”
He kept glaring.
“If Nate had been able to make it that day, the chances are good that Molly wouldn’t have slipped away without anyone noticing.”
“So it’s true!”
“I wasn’t done,” she said, injecting some steel into her voice. “Nate has a really demanding job. It’s why he makes enough money for an amazing house like this. When there’s a crisis, he can’t say, ‘Gosh, sorry, I can’t meet with you, I need to take a picnic lunch to a park today.’ Molly and her mom were both used to him telling them the same thing he told you. He’d make it if he could, but if a problem at his office came up, he might have to cancel.”
“Mommy?” Jenna had somehow sneaked up on them. “What are you talking about?”
Josh jumped up and snarled, “Butt out!”
Anna laid a hand on his shoulder, but instead of lecturing him, she turned enough to see her daughter. “You don’t have to know everything. I thought I’d made it clear that I needed to talk to Josh alone.”
Her lower lip poked out. “It’s not fair.” Still, she obediently returned to the family room.
Not until she’d disappeared did Josh throw himself back onto the couch. “Isn’t Molly as important as some stupid job?”
Surprised at his comeback, Anna said, “Of course she is. You’ve seen them together.” She risked pulling him into a quick hug, letting go before he could protest. “The thing is, that field trip wasn’t important.”
“It was! ’Cuz Dad—” Josh choked.
“But how could Nate have guessed Molly would almost drown? You know how careful Melissa is. There were plenty of chaperones. Nate canceling would have been bad if Molly’s mom wasn’t already going. If he’d promised to be there for three kids who wouldn’t have anyone if he didn’t show up. But Melissa hadn’t assigned any kids to him, maybe because Sonja had told her that he might not be able to make it. Three kids and Molly were assigned to her mother, just as I was responsible for three besides you. Your dad decided to join us only the night before. That made him a...a spare. And that’s what Nate would have been, too.”
Josh’s expression crumpled with confusion. “Then...why did she say that?”
“I think—” Anna took his hand in hers “—because Mrs. Kendrick feels guilty. Somehow—” because she’d been fiddling on her phone “—she didn’t notice that Molly had wandered out of sight.”
“So it’s her fault,” Josh said with a viciousness that took Anna aback.
“In a way.” Right now, the last thing she wanted was to be fair to Sonja Kendrick, but her conscience wouldn’t allow her to be anything else. “We talked about this, too, though. Parents get distracted. We’re not perfect, you know.”
His snort reassured her.
She explained again that Molly vanishing at the same moment her mother was briefly distracted was chance. “And if I’d gone looking for her instead of your dad, I might have made it out.”
“Because you can swim.”
“Right. But I also might not have been strong enough to throw Molly out of the current.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it.
“Tragedies happen, Josh. It’s why parents worry so much about their kids. You might have prevented one when you ran for help that day at the school. And it’s true that, sometimes, there is one person we can blame when something awful happens. A drunk driver. A man who is committing a crime and doesn’t care who gets hurt as long as it isn’t him. A parent who isn’t paying any attention to her kids at all. But I know Sonja was, because I saw her. If Nate had been there...well, what if whatever distracted Sonja distracted him, too? Or if he’d decided to play soccer with you boys? His presence that day might have made all the difference, but it might not have, too.” She paused, able to see Josh’s struggle. “Do you see?”
He finally n
odded, but his reluctance was apparent. “Yes, but...why did we have to come and stay here? Why didn’t you get a job with someone else?”
Anna knew how crooked her smile had to be. “Because no one else offered me one. Because this one was so perfect. And—” she held up a hand to squelch the interruption she saw coming “—because I already knew and liked Molly. I thought I could help us and her at the same time.”
Josh burst out, “But it’s mostly her—” When he clamped his mouth shut before finishing the sentence, Anna hugged him again.
“What good does it do to make accusations? Haven’t you seen how sad Molly is? She’s struggling with what happened because of her mistake, just like her mother is. I think Nate is doing the same, even though it’s not reasonable to blame him at all. Stuff happens.”
Josh gave her a sly glance. “You mean, sh—”
Laughing, Anna clapped a hand over his mouth in time.
When she let him go, he rolled his eyes. “I see it on bumper sticks all the time. And people say it on TV. So why can’t I—”
“Because,” she said firmly. “Now, I need to start dinner.”
“Do I have to play with them again?”
“Nope. You can sit at the table and do your homework, or go get a book to read.”
He actually did like to read, though mostly at bedtime. So she wasn’t surprised when, shortly after she went to the kitchen, she saw him returning to the family room.
Then she put the frying pan on the burner as she cut several chicken breasts into thin slices as a first step to making tacos, a favorite for all the kids. Her hands worked independently of her thoughts, however. She’d disturbed herself with what she’d said to Josh.
They’d all become enmeshed in guilt and blame. She hadn’t told Josh anything she hadn’t said or thought before, but this time she truly believed every word.
She felt...adrift, as if blame had been her anchor. Or maybe it was more like the walls of a fort she could huddle behind. Now she was left with a life altered by random circumstances; yet, she’d become tangled with the very people impacted by those same circumstances.
So they could torture each other?
It might have been better for both her and Josh if she’d made a different choice—cut all contact with Nate, Molly and her mother. Except, then she might have clung to her anger, her determination to blame someone for Kyle’s death, long past any point where those feelings were reasonable. As it was, she drew in a deep breath, free of the constriction that had been there whether she noticed it or not. And Josh—he’d matured as he dealt with his pain instead of burying it. Ditto for her.
Or, who knew, maybe she’d just donned a pair of rose-colored glasses.
* * *
SOMETHING WAS UP, Nate realized within minutes of sitting down at the dinner table. Josh and Molly both were subdued, and Josh kept stealing odd looks at Nate. Molly? She had the art of withdrawal licked.
When he came in the door, Nate had been happy to see the dining table set for five people. Anna and her kids stayed to eat with him and Molly more often than she had earlier in their arrangement, but three or four days a week, she hustled her kids out and left him and Molly to stare at each other across the table. Some of her decision, he’d long since realized, had to do with the menu. Because it was a meal designed for each person to assemble, tacos would have meant her taking about a dozen small containers of food. That would be a hassle.
On the other hand, maybe the menu wasn’t the only reason she’d hung around tonight. He had a feeling they’d be having a post-dinner conversation.
He did his best to help her keep a conversation going without any contributions from either of the older kids. Jenna...well, she was her usual motormouth, until she said, “Mom and Josh were mean when they wouldn’t tell me what they were talking about.”
“Shut up!” her brother snapped.
“We don’t talk to each other that way.” Icicles all but hung from Anna’s voice. “Please apologize.”
After producing a mumbled, “Sorry,” Josh sank into sullen silence.
The four-year-old decided to sulk, too.
Nate glanced around the table. “We’re all cheerful tonight.”
Nobody argued. But now that he was focusing on Anna instead of the too-quiet kids, he had the intriguing realization that something was different about her. Damn, she was beautiful when she wasn’t trying to close herself off.
“Nobody cheerful here,” she said with a hint of humor. “Why don’t you tell us how your day went?”
He laughed, a lot of his day’s stresses melting away. She did that for him, even if she also threw him into a state of sexual frustration all too often.
“Along with some routine meetings and phone calls, I met with two guys who think they have an idea for a snowboard that will kick butt—their words—in freestyle competitions. In case you didn’t know, snowboarding is big business these days. One concern is that I couldn’t decide whether they’ve chosen not to think about the recreational snowboarder or whether they know that’s too crowded a market already. Are competitive snowboards a large enough niche to interest us? I made some calls and decided this is worth pursuing for the moment. So we’ll be doing more serious research on their idea and the potential, not to mention the two guys’ backgrounds and ability to get beyond design to building a moneymaking business.”
Nate liked how intently Anna listened. “You must get to be an expert on a lot of strange things,” she commented.
“Yeah, I do. That challenge and the variety are two of the reasons I love my job.”
“And how many people can say that?”
As they kept talking, Nate became close to forgetting the kids were also at the table. He couldn’t quite, not when his daughter sat quietly beside him, unhappiness clinging to her like a heavy scent. But he couldn’t ask her what the latest problem was, not in front of the others, and he had a feeling Anna knew, anyway.
Finally, she said, “Kids’ turn to clear the table.”
Surprised at the lack of protest, Nate tried to ask a question with his eyes. Anna shook her head slightly. “I’ll put on coffee,” she said.
“Why don’t you let me?” He rose and went to the kitchen, deliberately crossing paths with Molly. He gently tugged her sagging ponytail. “Hey, sweetie,” he said softly.
She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a fierce hug that he had no chance to reciprocate before she rushed back to the table to wad up napkins and gather the place mats to throw in the laundry.
Even more disturbed, Nate located the coffee in the refrigerator and scooped some with only half his attention. What in hell had happened today?
Anna let the kids return to whatever they’d been doing earlier, and, by unspoken consent, she and Nate carried their cups to a corner of the living room where they wouldn’t be overheard.
Plunking down at one end of the sofa, Anna kicked off her shoes and tucked one leg under her. He chose the other end rather than the nearby chair.
Lifting his coffee cup to her, he said, “Seems like we’re always sneaking away to put our heads together.”
Her nose crinkled. “It does, doesn’t it? We wouldn’t have to if we were—” She not only stopped in her tracks, but she also looked horrified. And...was she blushing?
Nate reran what she’d said, and where she’d broken off. His mind slotted in a possible answer. If we were really a family. We’d talk in bed at the end of the day. Was that what she’d been close to saying?
An image of them lying in his big bed appeared instantly, her head nestled on his shoulder, her hand resting right above his heart. He’d hold her close even though that meant tipping his head so that he could see her expressions. It was too easy to know how content he’d be with this quiet time, this catching up that was essential, because the minute everything important had been said, he cou
ld tug her to sprawl on him or roll her under him. Either way, he’d slide his fingers into that silky blond hair, cup the back of her head and draw her into a kiss. A prelude.
And, shit, this wasn’t a smart thing to be thinking. His body was reacting in a way she wouldn’t be able to help noticing—and she might have been thinking something completely different.
He took a gulp of coffee and gave himself an order. Redirect. “Okay. What was going on?”
Cheeks still pink, she wasn’t quite looking at him. “Sonja called.”
His fantasy vanished with a poof at the mention of his ex’s name. “And?”
She told him. His fury made it hard to sit still.
His jaw muscles hurt when he had to unclench his teeth to say, “She has no goddamn sense at all. And even less consideration for Molly’s feelings.”
“Who has any sense when they’re drunk?” Anna hesitated. “I admit to being a little surprised that she was so far gone at four in the afternoon.”
He swore and bounced his head on the cushioned back of the sofa. “I’ve had a suspicion. At the hearing, she was cold-stone sober but suffering from obvious withdrawal. I wonder if most days she isn’t having her first drink as soon as she gets up.”
“So you really think she was impaired when she tried to take Molly after school.”
“Oh, yeah.” Nate groaned and straightened. “Damn. Do you think the kids will stick to your new rule and let you answer the phone whenever it rings?”
“I’ll make sure they do. But...maybe you should talk to her again, too. I told her she needed to call only when you’re home. You could reinforce that.”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll do that.”
Neither of them said anything for a minute. He could faintly hear the sound of the television.
“Does Josh hate me now?” Nate finally asked.
For the first time in the conversation, her gaze slid away from his. “We had a talk. I think he understands.”
Nate set down his coffee cup. “What does he understand?”
She had a little speech prepared, summing up everything she’d apparently told her son. It seemed he’d been pretty well absolved of guilt. Again, a hint of color stained her cheeks.
In a Heartbeat Page 14
