by Jaci Burton
Ryan stared at his plate, grimaced, and pushed it away. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“I love broccoli, Mommy,” Tabitha said. Always the pleaser, she took a big bite and chewed and tried her best not to make a face. She even smiled through it.
Yeah, Tabitha hated broccoli, too, but she’d do anything to make Jane happy. Even eat broccoli.
“There’s a two-week camp coming up next summer,” Ryan said. “Chris says it has archery and canoes and swimming in the lake and hiking. I was wondering if I could go.”
Jane frowned. Chris’s parents owned one of the car dealerships in town. They had money. Jane did not. This camp wasn’t going to be free. She sensed disappointment ahead for her little boy. “Do you have a brochure?”
“Yeah.” Hope glimmered in her sweet boy’s brown eyes, and he fished it out from his backpack, no doubt with a sales pitch already planned. Her kid was nothing if not prepared when there was something he wanted. He was a lot like his father in that respect.
He handed it over. “They have lots of activities, Mom, and the counselors are all trained in CPR and first aid. Most of them went to the camp when they were my age. Isn’t that cool?”
Jane couldn’t help but zero right in on the cost. She swallowed, hard. No way could she afford it. She was stretched thin enough on her budget as it was, and trying to locate Vic to pay his back child support was harder than trying to find a dress that didn’t make her butt look big.
Might as well rip the Band-Aid off rather than give Ryan false hope. She looked up at him and gave him a smile that she prayed showed him how much she loved him. “It looks awesome, sweetie. But it’s a little too much money, and you know how things are.”
His hopeful smile died. He looked crushed, and her heart ached at his disappointment as he gazed down at his plate and pushed the broccoli around with his fork. “Yeah. It’s okay. I understand, Mom.”
That was the problem. He did understand, and he still loved his father, still hoped his dad would show up at his ball games. Or just show up.
Part of her wished he would, too, that he’d get clean and come back—at least for his kids. What she had with Vic was over, but his children needed a father, the kind of father he used to be, not the one he’d become when he’d spent every day so drunk and high that he could barely remember his own name.
But it was times like this she was so angry at Vic that if he showed his face right now she wasn’t sure what she would do. Likely lay him flat for running out on his children and leaving them wanting things they couldn’t have, things she couldn’t give them.
Damn him.
“Hey, kids. I have all this extra chocolate cake and I thought—wow, the place is kinda empty tonight, and if there aren’t enough people eating dessert, I’m gonna have to throw it away. I thought maybe you could take it off my hands.”
God bless Anita, who was her favorite waitress and a good friend. Divorced three times and with two grown sons, Anita had been her lifesaver. They’d had a few heart-to-heart talks about lousy husbands. And Jane knew that cake wouldn’t end up on her check tonight.
Ryan had a sweet tooth that rivaled any kid in town, and Anita’s offer distracted him from his disappointment. His eyes widened. “Oh, cake. Can we have cake, Mom?”
She’d deal with the sugar high for hours and it would be hell to get the kids to bed tonight, but it would be worth it. “Of course you can have cake. Thanks, Anita.”
Anita winked and shoved her pencil into the wild mass of streaked blonde and brown hair piled on top of her head. “No problem, honey. Kids, go have Charlotte serve up that cake for you at the counter.”
The kids scrambled off. They loved sitting at the counter, where Charlotte, Bert’s wife, would serve them cake, no doubt with a dollop of ice cream on the side.
“Thanks again,” she said as Anita filled a cart with their empty dishes.
“You looked like you could use a ray of sunshine today.”
She hated that it showed on her face. “Oh, I’m fine. I just hate saying no to the kids.”
Anita laughed. “It’s a good word for them to learn. Teaches them that not everything in life is free.”
“I know that, but I haven’t been able to do anything special for them since Vic left. And Ryan wants to go to this fancy summer camp and I just can’t afford it.”
“Yeah, well, that’s Vic’s fault, not yours.” She punctuated the statement by tossing the utensils viciously into the cart.
“But my kids still adore their father.”
Anita gave them a look over her shoulder. Tabitha and Ryan were busily scooping from the bowl of ice cream Charlotte had given them and paying zero attention to their conversation.
“They’ll get over that when they’re older and realize how much he piled on your shoulders.”
“I got the great end of the deal,” Jane said with a smile. “I got them.”
Anita squeezed her arm. “You sure did, honey.”
Charlotte came over. She was a slight, just a bit over five feet tall woman with short gray hair, but she was formidable and ran Bert’s like a drill sergeant. She was also one of the sweetest women Jane had ever met. She slid a bowl of chocolate ice cream in front of her. Jane didn’t know what she’d do without Bert’s as a refuge.
“Some for you, too, sweetie,” Charlotte said.
She lifted her gaze at Charlotte. “Thanks. I needed that.”
“Figured,” Charlotte said with a wink.
Alone at the table, Jane inhaled and took a bite of the ice cream, then sighed, realizing this wasn’t going to do much to thin her thighs.
Then again, today she didn’t much care.
“Did you hear that Emma Burnett is back in town?” Anita took a seat across from her. It was a light crowd at the diner, and they’d come before the typical dinner rush anyway.
Jane was glad for the company—and some town gossip.
“No. Really?”
“Yes. She bought out Doc Weston’s veterinary practice and is reopening it.”
Jane smiled, happy to be talking about someone else for a change. “That’s great news. Gosh, I haven’t seen Emma since…high school, I guess. It’s been a really long time.”
“Yeah, she left town for vet school and then some job somewhere else and hasn’t been home much. I know she popped in here now and then during breaks from college, but we sure haven’t seen much of her over the years.”
“You’re right about that. Come to think of it, I don’t know that I can remember the last time she was back in Hope.”
Anita nodded. “Anyway, that’s all I know. Now she’s back and prepping the clinic to reopen.”
“That’s good news for Hope. Since Dr. Weston retired, everyone with animals has only had one clinic to go to. I can’t wait to see her. I’ll be sure to drop by once the clinic opens.”
“The Burnett sisters sure pulled a disappearing act, didn’t they?” Anita asked.
Jane frowned, then nodded. “Oh, that’s right. Emma’s little sister, Molly, left, too, didn’t she? I didn’t know her all that well because she was a few years younger than Emma and me.”
“Yeah, she hightailed it out of town even before Emma left. No idea what happened to her.”
“Huh. Me, either.” She hadn’t thought about the Burnett sisters in a long time. She and Emma hadn’t been best friends in high school, but they’d hung out in the same circles.
After dinner, Jane and the kids took a walk to the community park. Tabitha liked the playground there and Ryan fed the ducks, at least until he found a few of his friends and a game of football ensued.
Her little boy was growing up. He was so tough and was trying so hard to be the man of the house. But he was still only eight years old, and underneath the tough-kid exterior was a vulnerable little boy who’d been hurt when his daddy, his hero, had abandoned him.
Fortunately, he loved his sports, and that kept his mind occupied. She wished she could send him to that ridi
culously expensive camp this summer. But there was no sense wishing for things that weren’t going to happen.
Glad Ryan had an outlet for his excess energy, Jane took a few minutes to stretch out on the playground bench, take a couple deep relaxing breaths, and exhale.
At least she had a job. And now another job at the health club. She’d also applied to teach summer school, since positions were at a premium and you had to apply early. Maybe she could afford a few extras for the kids this summer.
Maybe.
Tabitha played with Karen Redmond’s daughter, Heather, and Karen stood watch over them like a hawk. Ryan was deeply involved in a football game, with other parents supervising, so she tilted her head back and closed her eyes for just a second.
“Jane?”
It must have been more than a second because she felt disoriented, like maybe she’d allowed herself to fall asleep. She blinked and opened her eyes to find a sweaty hunk of beefcake standing in front of her. She shielded her eyes from the setting sun, unable to make out his face until he moved out of the shadow of the sun.
Will. Again? Why was she suddenly running into him a lot when she rarely ever saw him?
“Oh. Will. Hi. What are you doing here?” Other than catching her napping when she should be watching her kids. She made a quick search. Tabitha was still screaming down the slides with Heather, and Ryan had the football tucked under his arm, his buddies going all out to try and tackle him.
And she’d been passed out on the bench.
Wasn’t she just mother of the year?
“I was taking a run in the park, saw you sitting here.”
“I sure am seeing a lot of you lately.”
“I switched from nights to days.”
“Oh. Right. I heard about that.”
His lips curved. “Of course you did. Is there anything in this town that isn’t broadcast somewhere?”
“No. There’s a daily gossip update via social media. You can’t have secrets in Hope. Don’t even try. We even know what brand of toilet paper you buy via our spies at the grocery store.”
He laughed. “I’m going to assume you’re kidding about that.”
She arched a brow. “Am I?”
“Now that’s a scary thought.” He looked around. “Are the kids in the playground?”
“Yes. Over there,” she said with a nod of her head, grateful she’d been wearing her sunglasses so maybe he wouldn’t notice she’d been asleep.
He turned and she took a moment to check out his muscles, lean body, and long legs. Did the man have to be tanned and in such great shape? She wanted to not be in her yoga pants and a T-shirt, both more than a few years old. She’d just tossed the outfit on for the walk and now she looked down with a critical eye. The yoga pants were faded, but supremely comfortable, because really, once she got home, who cared? It wasn’t like she was trying to impress anyone.
And she sure wasn’t trying to impress Will.
“Wow, the kids have gotten so big. Ryan looks a lot like Vic.”
Her gaze wandered over to where Ryan was dashing for some imaginary end zone, a wide grin on his face. She smiled wistfully. “Yes, he does.”
Will took a seat next to her. “Have you heard from him?”
“From Vic? No.”
“At all?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry, Jane.”
She shrugged. “I’m over it.”
“I’m sorry for not coming over, too.”
Coming over? Why would he want to do that? “My family isn’t your responsibility. It’s Vic’s.”
“Still, I could have been there to help you through this. I guess I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to see me, that I’d remind you of what you lost.”
She frowned. “That’s ridiculous. You had nothing to do with him leaving.”
“But he and I were best friends. I should have seen it coming.”
She let out a very unladylike snort. “I was married to him. I lived with him every day. I shared his life. And I didn’t see it coming. Neither did his parents. So unless you’re some kind of psychic, I don’t think you had an edge on knowing he was going to abruptly check out of marriage and fatherhood without letting anyone know.”
Will stared out over the playground. “I know it’s been two years, but I still can’t believe he just up and disappeared without a word, that he hasn’t contacted you.”
“Oh, we were in contact through his attorney—at least long enough for him to sign the divorce papers.”
“Maybe he figured he was so screwed up that he was doing you a favor.”
“Some favor,” she said with a laugh. “Leaving me and the kids and then disappearing so well I can’t find him in order to get him to pay child support.”
“Jesus.” Will shoved his fingers through his hair and looked down at the ground. “I had no idea it was that bad.”
Wasn’t she a brilliant conversationalist? She could bring down a chat in three seconds flat. God, how depressing could she be?
She stood. “It’s not that bad, Will. The kids and I are doing just fine.” She hollered for Tabitha and Ryan, then turned to him. “Great to see you again.”
Will’s gaze was intense as he stood and came to stand beside her. “You don’t have to go, Jane.”
“Yes, I do. It’s late and it’s getting cool out here. I have papers to grade and the kids have homework. I’ll see you around.”
She gathered up the kids and headed down the street before she poured out her heart and soul and wept on Will’s shoulder, the absolute last thing she wanted to do.
She was strong, and a survivor. She hated those looks of sympathy and pity from anyone, especially Will.
Her life was just freaking fine.
* * *
Will watched Jane wander down the street with her kids. She held Tabitha’s hand, and Ryan was walking backward, talking nonstop to her about something.
Will had said something wrong, because she’d looked hurt or pissed off and she couldn’t wait to get away from him.
Maybe because she didn’t like talking about Vic and the divorce. Either way, he made a mental note to look forward, not back, the next time he saw her.
He knew he’d woken her up when he’d come upon her on the bench. She was likely exhausted. He wondered how long it had been since she’d gone out and had some fun. Had she even been out at all since the divorce? Or had she been so focused on rebuilding her life with the kids and making sure their needs were met that she hadn’t been meeting her own?
He might not be able to do anything about her sonofabitch loser of an ex-husband, but he could definitely do something about her having some fun.
CHAPTER THREE
Two algebra classes in a row always made her brain tired, but Jane lived for math, even if her students didn’t jump for joy over quadratic equations.
Her next class was basic math, so she’d get a breather, though she had a couple kids in this class who needed one-on-one help. They were skating the edge of failing and she’d be damned if she’d let that happen.
If a kid didn’t give a crap, she’d work with him or her and try to explain what it would mean to fail her class. She’d push and prod, and often, the kid would come around. Sometimes it wouldn’t matter, and no amount of cajoling and notes and phone calls home to parents would change the kid’s attitude. And attitude was so prevalent in this age group, where hormones came into play. There was so much to juggle at the early high school age. Boys and girls noticed each other, so you had burgeoning sexuality to deal with along with surging hormones.
So fun.
But God, she loved these kids, this awkward age she remembered so well from her own years in the gawky teens.
It hadn’t gone so well for her, so she tried her best to pave the way for those not born with perfect genetics.
After she went through the work with the entire class, she worked with Susie and Robert. Robert was more amenable to the one-on-one instruction. Susie was th
e balker. She was in foster care, her dad had never been in the picture, and her mom was in and out of jail for drugs. Jane’s heart went out to Susie, who hadn’t had an easy life since birth. Born addicted, she had some learning disabilities, but the kid was tough. Jane was determined to see her make it, despite all the strikes against her. She gave Bobby a worksheet and went through the simple math problems over and over again until Susie was frustrated.
“You want to pass this class, don’t you, Susie?” she asked.
Susie just shrugged a shoulder, affecting her typical “I don’t care” attitude as she stared at the worksheet.
“I think you’re really smart and you can do anything you set your mind to do.”
“I’m not smart,” she whispered. “I’m stupid.”
Jane so wanted to fold this girl in her arms and give her a huge hug. “You are smart. You have to work harder than anyone else in this entire school, so that means you’re smarter than any of them.”
Her dark eyed gaze lifted to Jane’s. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. So let’s show them all how smart you really are. And how tough you are. Don’t fail.”
She saw the tears of frustration shimmering in Susie’s eyes. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all you have to do.” Jane leaned over the worksheet and went over the math problems again. By the end of the class, Susie had gotten them all right. It felt like a triumph. Jane sent another worksheet home with Susie with a note to her foster parents to work on it with her, along with praise for how well she was doing.
It was all she could do, but she knew Susie had a good foster family. They’d work with her.
Her fingers were crossed.
After school, she went and picked up Tabitha and headed to the community center to work at the day-care center. Her dad was going to pick up Ryan and take him to baseball practice.
She wouldn’t have survived the past two years without her parents’ support. They’d pitched in when needed to run the kids to sports or dance if she had to go in an opposite direction. She tried not to lean on them too much, but frankly, she’d have drowned without them.
