by Various
She waited until Daisy’s sobs slowed before gently urging, “Tell me everything.”
“Can I get a drink of water?” Daisy asked in a shaky voice.
“Of course.” She got a glass out of the cabinet and poured filtered water from the pitcher.
My impulsive, flighty sister—a mother? Children need structure, routine.
Liz would take care of everything. Even though she was the younger sister by three years, she’d been looking out for Daisy for as long as she could remember. Covering for her, making excuses for her, and when Liz was old enough, helping Daisy fix whatever mess she’d made, of which there’d been plenty. From sneaking out on school nights to meet her friends, to underage parties in the woods, to joy rides without a license. Their parents still didn’t know about most of that stuff. The driving without a license they did know. Daisy was a speed demon and got pulled over her first time out. And her fifth time. A few more times after that too.
Liz peered over the half wall separating the kitchen and living room. “Are you hungry?”
“Always,” Daisy replied, reaching into her bright orange and purple boho bag and pulling out a box of Sno-Caps.
A flash of alarm went through Liz. She snagged the veggies and hummus bowl, grabbed the water, and hurried back to the living room.
“Why don’t we save this for later?” she asked, neatly substituting the veggie bowl for the Sno-Caps in Daisy’s hand. She slipped the candy behind a cushion to be disposed of later.
Daisy merely shrugged and dug into the veggies. “You wouldn’t believe how hungry being pregnant can make you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Liz asked softly. Daisy had always called her at the first sign of trouble. It stung that it had taken her this long.
Daisy set the veggie bowl on the coffee table and sighed. “At first, I was just in shock. Did you know the pill isn’t one hundred percent when you’re on antibiotics?”
Liz shook her head.
“Well, it’s not. Then I thought, I can’t keep this baby. I don’t know the first thing about babies. I’m not married. I have no money. I share an apartment with two roommates.” She gripped her hands tightly together. “I even went to the clinic, but I couldn’t go through with it.”
“I’m glad,” Liz managed. She’d almost lost her niece or nephew. It hurt to think about. Her own biological clock had been ticking louder and louder.
“I’m still not ready,” Daisy confessed. “I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat that I forgot the baby somewhere, or I don’t have enough money to feed it, or that it rolls off one of those tiny little changing stations they have in the ladies’ room.” Her voice came out tiny and choked at the end. She took a deep breath. “I’m giving the baby up for adoption.”
“No!” Liz stood in her agitation. “We’ll back out of the contract. Mothers have rights. Wait, did you sign anything?”
“Not yet—”
“Well, don’t. We’ll raise the baby together.” Her mind flew. “We can take childcare in shifts! I’ll take afternoon to night, so you can waitress at Garner’s, and you take the school day—”
“I’m getting too big to be on my feet—”
“We’ll put you at the hostess stand. Mom and Dad will get you on Garner’s insurance plan. And you can live here. You can have my room and—”
“Oh, I couldn’t take your bed,” Daisy protested.
“You wouldn’t be comfortable on the sofa. Anyway, it’s just until you’re ready for a place of your own.” Or a bigger place for the three of us.
Daisy’s blue eyes, so like her own, reflected equal parts hope and worry. “Are you sure?”
She sat next to Daisy and took her sister’s hands in hers. “I’m sure. And you wouldn’t have come to me tonight if you hadn’t been having doubts about the adoption. We’ll get through this together. You are not alone.”
“I know,” Daisy said with a watery smile. “Sorry.” She choked out a laugh. “Damn hormones make me cry at insurance commercials. You know the one where the squirrel almost gets hit by that car?”
Liz nodded solemnly.
Daisy rubbed a hand over her belly. “It’s a boy. Seven months already.” She fumbled around in her bag and pulled out an ultrasound picture.
Liz clapped a hand over her mouth and blinked back tears. Omigod, I’m going to be an aunt! He was so beautiful. She could see his face with pursed lips, a tiny button nose, closed eyes. His body was curled up, with one hand on the side of his head. “Oh, Daisy! When are you due?”
“August twenty-second. I haven’t told Mom and Dad yet, so don’t say anything.”
Liz kept quiet. The people of Clover Park, Connecticut, were not known for their discretion. Their parents were sure to hear the happy news the moment Daisy stepped foot out of this apartment. She glanced at her sister chomping on a red pepper slice and tossing back the box of Sno-Caps. So much for her hiding place. “Um…does the father want to be involved?” And do you know who the father is?
Daisy shook her head. “He’s a minor league baseball player on the Norwalk Tigers. He didn’t want anything to do with the baby.” She looked away.
“He should still pay child support,” Liz said, instantly angry at this stupid ball player.
“It’s fine. We were only together that one time.”
Liz’s lips formed a tight line. She didn’t plan on letting the father get off that easy, but she let it go for now.
“I might need to borrow some money too.” Daisy grimaced, but plowed on. “I don’t have much in savings, kinda just live paycheck to paycheck, but a baby needs things.”
Liz was almost afraid to ask. “How much?”
“Ten thousand dollars?”
Her head throbbed. “Ten thousand? I don’t have ten thousand dollars! Does it really cost that much to have a baby?”
Daisy looked down at her hands. “I have some credit card debt. The interest alone is eating up my paycheck.”
Not that a temp job at a spa in New York City was ever going to be much of a paycheck. Liz wished, not for the first time, that Daisy would stick with something and work her way up to a better paying position. Daisy was smart, but she’d dropped out of college her first year and had a series of odd jobs ever since. Maybe Liz could get her into community college. One thing at a time, Liz reminded herself.
Daisy continued. “I paid the minimum each month, and it just got worse and worse. Going out with my friends, traveling, clothes, shoes, purses, makeup. But that’s all done, I swear!” She lifted a hand in promise. “I transferred all my debt to a lower interest credit card, but still…it’s bad. Liz, I promise I’ll do everything I can think of to pay down this debt, and I won’t ever ask you for another cent again. Things are different for me now with the baby, and I want a chance to turn over a new leaf for both of us.”
Looking from her sister’s earnest expression to her pregnant belly, a lump formed in Liz’s throat. She’d help out; of course she would. Her sister might flutter to wherever the wind blew her, but she’d never broken a promise to Liz.
“I’ll find a summer job,” Liz said, “but you have to swear everything I give you goes toward paying down that debt and for the baby. No shopping sprees.”
“I swear it will!” Daisy’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you so much! You are the best sister and aunt ever!” She stood, arms open, and when Liz stood to hug her, Daisy threw herself into her arms, hiccupping, crying, and laughing all at once.
Liz held her tighter, her own eyes stinging with unshed tears. Liz would have the baby she longed for, even if it wasn’t her white picket fence dream—husband, kids (one boy, one girl), nonshedding dog. She’d be the best aunt this child could ever want.
After they watched the movie Liz had planned for tonight, Bringing Up Baby—how appropriate, though Baby was a leopard—Liz settled on the sofa. She’d be lying if a tiny part of her wasn’t jealous. She’d been so close to her white picket fence dream two years ago. Right u
p until her fiancé Craig dumped her for his pregnant—by him—secretary. She’d done everything right, yet here she was single and childless while Daisy had led the life of the wild woman. And now she had what Liz always wanted most.
She sighed. None of that stuff mattered now. The important thing was her nephew. She already loved him so much.
She grabbed her laptop. She had two students lined up for tutoring, but it wasn’t enough money. She didn’t want to work for her parents at Garner’s Sports Bar & Grill. Too many of her students and their families went there. It would be tough to keep her authority in the classroom if she waited on the kids during the summer. Settling on the sofa again, she wrapped her fleece blanket around her shoulders and opened her laptop. First, she pulled up QuickBooks and added the expense of the wine she still hadn’t tasted. She liked to keep a daily accounting of expenses to make sure she stayed in her budget. Her account balance was enough to get through the summer, but not nearly enough to make a dent in Daisy’s debt.
She searched job websites for summer help. They were hiring at the mall over in Eastman, only minimum wage, and she’d likely be working with a lot of teenagers, feeling ancient. After a wasted half hour of searching, she remembered The Clover Park Record had job listings in the back.
She carefully pulled the newspaper off her neat pile of to-be-read items. Luckily she hadn’t read it yet or it would already be recycled. Running her finger down the classifieds, she found exactly three job listings: the paper needed volunteer reporters to cover town meetings, a local moving company needed summer help (at five foot four and no muscle, she was way underqualified for that one), and someone was looking for an elder care provider. Now that she could do.
She’d call first thing in the morning. She set the paper back on the end table, curled up on the sofa, and was asleep within minutes. She woke the next day to the sound of her sister shuffling around in the kitchen, banging cabinet doors, probably looking for the cereal.
“Mornin’,” Liz said when she entered the kitchen.
“Mornin’,” Daisy muttered. She never had been much of a morning person.
“Go ahead and sit,” Liz said. She got out the Cheerios, milk, bowl, and spoon and set it in front of Daisy. Then she poured her a small glass of orange juice.
“Thank you,” Daisy said. “No one has taken care of me in so long.” Her eyes teared up.
Geez, pregnancy hormones do make you cry at everything.
“Just this one time, then you find your own breakfast,” Liz said briskly, trying to detour another crying jag. It was too early for all the drama, and she had a phone call to make.
Daisy nodded and dug into her cereal. Liz grabbed her cell and took it into her bedroom for privacy. She dialed, and after a few rings, it went to voice mail.
“You’ve reached Ryan O’Hare. Leave a message.”
She dropped the phone.
Her heart galloped at an alarming speed. Ryan O’Hare. The man she’d spent years avoiding, ever since The Humiliation. Ryan O’Hare was hiring an elder care provider? She grabbed her cell off the floor and jabbed the end button to hang up.
She paced her bedroom and tried to think. Should I call back? How badly do I need this job?
She took a deep breath and dialed again, clenching her teeth as she heard his voice on the recorded message. Then, all in a rush, she left a message. “Hello, this is Liz Garner. I’m calling about the ad you placed for an elder care provider. I live in town and have many references, so please call me to arrange an interview.” She left her number and hung up.
Then she collapsed on her bed and screamed into a pillow.
Chapter Two
Ryan’s night hadn’t been a total bust. He’d bribed the front desk clerk for info and got Stew’s room number and some good intel: the swinging couple liked to go clubbing before settling in back at the Four Seasons. The fat check he’d gotten from his client more than made up for the cash he was out. He rolled out of bed and grabbed his cell from the jeans he’d dropped on the floor late last night. One message. He hit play—Liz Garner about the elder care ad. His first applicant since the ad had run yesterday. He remembered Liz from when he’d been a lifeguard at Grand Lake the summer before his senior year. She’d been the only real emergency that summer. He hadn’t seen her much since. Not too surprising considering she’d been four years behind him in school. He knew she taught at Clover Park Elementary since last fall, thanks to Gran, who felt it her duty to keep him informed of the latest town gossip.
He dialed Liz. First applicant or not, an elementary school teacher sounded like the perfect candidate to him.
“Hello?” Liz answered.
“Hi, this is Ryan O’Hare. I’m returning your call about the elder care.”
“Oh…yes. Hello.” She cleared her throat. “How are you?”
“Fine. I need someone to check on my grandmother twice a day. Help her out with a few things around the house, errands.”
“I could do that,” she said. “I know Mrs. O’Hare. She’s a sweet woman.”
“Yeah, sweet.” When she isn’t acting crazy.
“Would you like the numbers of my references?”
She’s basically harmless, he decided on the spot. Besides, everyone in town knew her parents from their restaurant. Good people. He’d still run a background check, of course.
“I know your family,” he told her. “Good enough for me.”
“Okay then!” she said in an annoyingly perky voice. “I will do my best, and you won’t be disappointed.”
“So the job is two hours a day, five days a week.”
“I’d like four hours, five days a week,” she said, coming down from perky into firm teacher voice territory. “Twenty bucks an hour.”
He stiffened. “That’s steep.”
“That’s what a nanny would get paid around here. I’m an elder care provider.”
She said it with such high falutin’ importance he thought she might trip over her own nose on that one. He’d have to get his brothers to pool their money. But it’d be worth it just to lessen his aggravation load. “Deal.”
“I’ll start Monday morning,” she informed him. “I know the address.”
“Works for me.” He hung up and thought about calling Gran to give her a heads-up about Liz. He quickly nixed that idea. She’d only fight him on it. Let Liz do all the explaining. Gran would never blow up at her. More likely, she’d fuss over Liz, offer to feed her. Least the old Gran would’ve.
He called Trav and told him to bring Shane by for burgers and dogs tonight so they could figure out what to do about Gran.
He went downstairs to make a pot of coffee. After he was fully caffeinated, he made a quick trip into town for food, and by the time his brothers showed up, the charcoal grill was nice and hot.
“I brought a new flavor, guys,” his youngest brother, Shane, announced as he stepped onto the back patio. He held up a brown bag. “Peanut butter banana. Try it. Let me know what you think.” Shane’s ice cream shop, Shane’s Scoops, was doing a booming business in town. Not only did he offer homemade gourmet ice cream, a coffee bar, and candy bins at the shop, he also supplied a network of local restaurants with his fancy ice cream. Who knew they’d pay that much for ice cream?
“I won’t say no to ice cream,” Ryan said.
“Always happy to help the cause,” Trav said, following behind. “And I brought beer and chips.”
Ryan gave him a curt nod. He never touched a drop of alcohol, not after their father’s spectacular crash and burn. He didn’t like his brothers drinking, but they were big boys. And they rarely had more than one. Least not on his watch.
“Not until after the ice cream,” Shane said. He pulled out the container and plastic spoons at the patio table. “Try it while you still have a clean palate.”
Ryan bit back a sarcastic comment. His brother had gone to culinary school, so he could throw around words like “palate” without judgment. Even if he did sound like a wuss.
>
Trav wiped his tongue with a napkin. “My palate’s clean.”
“Idiot,” Ryan said affectionately.
They each took a spoonful. Shane looked at them hopefully.
“It’s good,” Ryan said.
Mmmph, Trav said around a second spoonful.
“Is it too much banana?” Shane asked. “Too much peanut butter? Texture?”
Ryan shrugged. “It’s fine. Good.”
Trav was too busy inhaling the container to do anything but nod in agreement.
“Does that mean I should add it to the menu?” Shane asked.
“Yes,” Ryan said.
Trav took a breather to speak around a mouthful of ice cream. “Best one yet.”
Shane broke out into a wide smile. “Thank you.”
Ryan threw hot dogs and premade burger patties on the grill while his brothers traded insults over Shane’s growing stomach—hazard of an ice cream maker, he said—and Trav’s perpetual stubble—a hot look that chicks dig, he insisted. Ryan didn’t comment. Shane’s stomach was always right. And his own five o’clock shadow depended on how much sleep he got. Whether or not he shaved, it was easy to hook up with a new divorcée. They made intense revenge sex partners. And a quick exit out the door afterward was expected. Easy. Fun. No strings.
Even so, he’d turned down the soon-to-be ex-Mrs. Harbinger last night when she’d invited him in for a “hot, wet shower.” Lately he’d been feeling like mixing business with pleasure was a bad idea. Like his female clients were paying him for additional services. Made him feel kinda cheap even at his high prices.
He set the platter of charbroiled meat down on the table and waited for his brothers to take their fill before he took a burger and a dog.
“So, what’s up with Gran?” Shane asked after he finished his hot dog. “Is she okay?”
