by Lisa Lace
Zoe smiles at me fondly and nudges me. “There’s no manual, Tom.”
I lie back on the bed, my arms above my head, and stare at Laura’s cracked ceiling. “In business, it’s easy. You don’t have to worry about hurting anyone’s feelings. If a job is beyond you, you delegate. You can’t delegate family drama.”
She falls back beside me, fiddling with the neckline of her sweater. She looks calmer than I’ve seen her since I’ve been in town; almost content. There’s a smile playing on her face.
“I miss the family drama. My parents took off traveling when I was twenty-one. I hardly see them now. I’d love to have a weekend listening to them bicker and then flirt, for my mom to demand when I’m going to have kids, for my father to tell me that I’m not running my business properly. All that criticism is annoying as hell at the time, but I kind of miss having people who care enough to criticize.”
“You think it’s a sign of caring?”
“Sure! That’s what families do. They drive each other nuts.”
“Aunt Zoe?”
We both sit up. Megan is standing in the doorway, looking at us both lying on the bed. Her face twists into an expression of disapproval. She raises her eyebrows and folds her arms across her chest.
“I didn’t know you were here already.”
“I just got here.” Megan steps in and leans against the wall, casting her gaze around the room. “You’re staying in Mom’s room?”
“Is that okay?”
She shrugs. “I guess.”
Zoe stands and crosses the room to Megan. She pulls her toward her and kisses her forehead. Megan’s attitude slips a little, and her lips twist into a reluctant smile.
“Did Mom send you here?”
“She sure did. She said that your Uncle Tom was a terrible cook with awful taste in movies. She begged me to come save you.”
Megan laughs, but bites down on her smile, like she doesn’t want us to catch on to the fact that she’s glad Zoe’s here. She nods. “I’m old enough to take care of myself, you know.”
“I know. But who’s going to take care of your Uncle Tom?”
Her eyebrows lift again. “Is that what you’re doing?”
Zoe chuckles and gives Megan a playful shove, pulling her back into a one-armed hug. “Enough of that, young lady. You’ll have to wait until your next visit with your mom to have a good gossip. In this house, we’re not going to say a word about what you may or may not know about your Uncle Tom and me.”
Megan grins, and I’m left astounded by Zoe’s ability to get her on her side so easily.
“Tell me, Meg, what do you want for dinner tonight?”
“I’m going to Justin’s.”
“You know, I haven’t seen Justin in a while. Tell him to come here. We’ll order a pizza; then you two can disappear upstairs and have your privacy for a couple of hours. We’ll even stay off the Netflix so you can watch whatever you want. How does that sound?”
Megan seems unsure. She hesitates.
Zoe strokes back Megan’s hair behind her ear in a motherly fashion. “Please, Meg. I promised your mom I’d keep an eye on you. How can I do that if you’re all the way over at Justin’s? Besides, you told me that Justin’s house smells like spaghetti and cats.”
“It does.”
“It’s decided, then. Justin will come here tonight. Agreed?”
Reluctantly, Megan gives in. “Fine. I’ll call him.”
“Thank you, sweetie. Why don’t you call the pizza place while you’re at it? Whatever’s your favorite.”
Megan disappears downstairs to make her calls, and Zoe looks at me triumphantly, trying to hide her victorious smirk. She sits back down beside me, holding in that smile.
I shake my head. “How did you manage that?”
“Years of practice.”
“I told her to order her favorite pizza the other day, and she told me I was trying to bribe her.”
Zoe rests her hand on my knee and offers me a sympathetic smile. “Give it time. Megan’s still getting to know you.”
“I should thank you, you know.”
“For what?”
“For everything.”
Zoe fixes me with an earnest stare. “It’s Laura. I’d do anything for her. She’s my best friend.”
“Not just since the accident. Always. You’ve been there for her.”
“She’s been there for me too.”
“I should have been here more.”
“You’re here now. It’s never too late to make a change.” She stands up and holds a hand out to help me up. “One down, one to go. Come on—let’s pry that Xbox controller out of Jack’s hands and make him play Kerplunk.”
I take her hand and stand. I follow her downstairs to the living room where Jack is playing. All the while, I’m watching her every move, admiring her; that kind smile, those bright eyes, her vibrant red hair.
With Zoe, I don’t feel like an outsider anymore. She makes this place feel like home.
Zoe
It’s early on Sunday morning. I was out late last night, catching up on work. I’m almost back up to speed and have had customers practically knocking down my door with orders. Apart from around Valentine’s Day, the weeks before Christmas are my busiest time of year.
I’m curled up in my blankets like a sushi roll. Downstairs, I can hear some music video on the television, and Jack’s mischievous laughter echoing at something or other. I smile. I love the sounds of a family home. All that’s missing is Laura.
I stretch, my toes poking out from the end of the covers, my hands reaching above my head. My whole body feels relaxed and rested. This is the best night’s sleep I’ve had since Laura was injured.
Maybe it’s the peace of mind of having heard Laura’s voice and seen her smile, knowing she’s on the mend. It could be from living in a house with other people, rather than alone. Maybe it’s knowing that Tom is downstairs.
I turn to my left, and my smile widens when I spot the wilted house plant, yellowed and half-dead, although it’s starting to grow a little stronger since I took over the watering. It’s the thought that counts.
I sit up, immediately hearing a knock at the door.
“Hello?”
Jack rushes in and bounces on my bed. “Aunt Zoe! Uncle Tom says we’re going out today.”
I bring my knees up to my chest and pull my covers over them. “He did, did he? And where did he say we’re going?”
“He said it’s a surprise! Get up! He’s making pancakes.”
I can smell them through the open door. “Mmm. I’ll be right there. Save me a plate.”
Jack grins and dashes back downstairs. I’m filled with a warm, happy feeling, picturing Tom playing Super-Uncle downstairs, making pancakes and planning a day out. Super-Uncle suits him.
I wrap my fluffy pink robe around me, slip on my polka-dot slippers, and head downstairs. Tom is standing at the stove with pancakes frying, a dishtowel thrown over his shoulder. He looks refreshed and content, and throws me a smile when I appear.
I slip into a seat at the table beside Megan, who’s texting someone. Even she’s smiling.
I grin at Tom. “Something smells good.”
“Just getting us fueled for our big adventure.”
“Which is?”
He winks at me. “Whatever you want it to be. Maybe we should put it to a vote. Whatever you guys want to do. I thought we could visit your mom this morning, then go have a fun day out somewhere. It’s been a stressful week. Let’s go let our hair down.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” I say. I give Megan a nudge. “Your mom will be thrilled if you spend some time with your Uncle Tom, and it’ll give us something to tell her all about when we get back. What do you say?”
“Fine,” she says at last. “I know it’s what Mom wants.”
I take her by the shoulders and kiss her on the top of the head. “It’ll be good for you to have the chance to take your mind off things for a while, sweetie. You�
��ve had a lot on your plate. I know your Mom’s really proud of how strong you’ve been.”
She smiles, gratitude in her eyes. She needs someone who understands.
“Now we just have to think of somewhere that’s fun for all of us,” Tom says, laying a plate piled high with pancakes on the table, plonking down a giant bottle of syrup beside it. “Eat up, guys.”
The pancakes are fantastic; warm and fluffy. I smile at Tom—this life suits him. We finish breakfast and discuss what we should do. We decide to go to a theme park in Saco.
Jack is barely able to contain his excitement. Megan smiles at him. I look over at Tom, and he grins at me. I’m ready to have a wonderful day.
We get ready and pile into Tom’s Mercedes. We swing by the hospital for a visit with Laura, and she’s thrilled when she hears our plans for the day. “That sounds wonderful, guys! Have a great time, and take lots of pictures for me.”
Less than an hour later, we’re at Splashtown. It’s too cold for the waterpark, so we head straight for the rides.
Tom buys tickets, and Megan and Jack stroll ahead of us, looking around and making a list of the rides they want to go on.
Grinning, Tom nudges me. “Do you remember when you, me, Mike and Laura came here?”
I have to search my memory back to my teenage years, but as I look around the sweeping rollercoasters and other rides, I remember. “Laura freaked out on the Thunderbolt and Mike took her to get some cotton candy and calm down.”
“But we both wanted to go on Excalibur. Laura wouldn’t go, and Mike wouldn’t come without her, so we went on together. Remember?”
I do remember—Tom flashing a grin before we fell over the edge of the tallest part of the ride, me screaming. Then hearing it turn to laughter as we came rushing down, us grinning at each other like crazy when we put our feet back on solid ground.
I smile. “That was a lifetime ago.”
“Yet here we are again.”
I keep my eyes on the kids. Megan and Jack are over at a map of the park, looking at all the rides and talking about the best route around the park. Jack says something that sends Megan into peals of laughter, wearing a half-toothed grin as he chats to her.
“They’re good kids. It’s great to see them smiling.”
Tom holds out his hand to me. I look up at him, wondering where my priorities should be. I glance from Tom’s earnest smile to the kids laughing ahead and take his hand. I’m filled with butterflies when his fingers close around mine.
This day is like a bittersweet fantasy. It’s wonderful to be with Tom, my hand in his, leading the kids around a theme park, taking pictures and watching them enjoy themselves, but none of it feels real.
I’ve stolen Laura’s life for a day. These aren’t my kids, and Tom isn’t my boyfriend. Soon, he’ll be going back to New York. I didn’t realize how much I’d been yearning for a romance and family of my own until I stepped into her shoes.
Tom is a dream. He goes with Jack on all the kid’s rides while Megan and I watch, waving and taking pictures.
The highlight of the day is when we all ride the Wild Mouse Roller Coaster together.
Jack wants to sit at the very front of the carriage. Megan sits behind him; I’m behind her, and Tom is in the back seat.
I’m on top of the world as we climb up the rails, and when we tumble over the top and drop through the air, I laugh with everything in me. I can hear Megan shrieking and Jack screaming with joy. Behind me, Tom laughs like he’s having the best day of his life.
Afterward, we crowd around the photo booth to see our picture at the top of the ride. Jack has his hands flying through the air with a massive grin on his face at the front of the log, Megan has her eyes squeezed shut, screaming; I have my head thrown back in a laugh, and Tom is grinning like I’ve never seen him smile before.
Anyone would think this was our family.
Tom buys three copies of the picture—one for him, one for Laura, and one for me. He hands me mine with a smile. “A day to remember, huh?”
Yes—when you’ve gone back to New York, and this happy day is only a memory.
Tom
Ten days later, and it’s the first Thursday of November. Thanksgiving.
I’m in a stand-off with Megan. We’re leaning over a list at the kitchen counter. I have a pen in my hand, hovering over the paper. Megan has one hand on the counter, the other waving in the air.
Megan’s complaining is so loud that it carries upstairs. Moments later, Zoe appears in the kitchen in her robe, sleepy-eyed. She looks from Megan to me. “Happy Thanksgiving, guys. What’s going on?”
Megan points at me accusingly. “He hasn’t even got a turkey.”
I throw Zoe an apologetic look. “I’m about to go and get one.”
Megan throws her hands up in the air. “Who can get a turkey on Thanksgiving morning?”
Zoe smiles and rests her hand on Megan’s shoulder, casting me a reassuring smile. “Good thing Aunt Zoe has it all under control, then, isn’t it?”
I’m filled with a sense of relief. I was hoping for our streak of family fun to continue over the holidays, but Megan has woken up on the wrong side of the bed. She’s spent the last fifteen minutes listing everything I’ve already done wrong.
“You have a turkey?” I ask.
She smiles. “Of course, I have a turkey.” She pulls open the oven door, where the turkey, still in its plastic wrap, is sitting in a roasting tray. “It’s been thawing since last night, and I bought everything else we needed earlier in the week. Panic over!”
Megan lets out a long breath. “Thank God someone knows what they’re doing around here.”
“Hey, Meg, cut your uncle some slack, will you? It’s not easy to put a whole Thanksgiving together.”
“What are you talking about? You’re the one who’s done everything!”
Zoe raises an eyebrow. “And it wasn’t easy. Have you ever tried carrying a full Thanksgiving dinner home from work? The turkey alone was ten pounds! But dinner’s only part of Thanksgiving. Your uncle has prepared all these decorations and collected all those board games for us. Don’t you think that’s nice?”
“I guess.” She flicks her gaze to me. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “Your Aunt Zoe and I will put dinner together, and we’ll have a really nice day. I promise.”
Megan goes upstairs to get showered, and I let out a long breath, leaning my weight on the counter. I look over to Zoe with a grin. “What would I do without you?”
Zoe laughs, sweeping past me to pull out a bag of potatoes from a corner cupboard and a cutting board from behind the bread bin. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”
“I thought your parents hadn’t been around for a while?”
“They haven’t, but I always order Laura’s turkey. The Thanksgiving turkey is Super-Mom’s kryptonite. She forgets every year.”
“Are you kidding me? I thought Laura never missed a beat.”
“It’s her one weakness.” Zoe winks at me and presses a finger against her lips. “I didn’t say a word.”
I’m standing behind Zoe, and I reach over her to grab a knife from the block. I hold the position longer than I need to, breathing in Zoe’s sweet scent. Her hair smells like last night’s shampoo.
She twists to turn her face to mine. She smiles.
I lean forward and kiss her. She is so beautiful. Everything about her beckons me in. I want her. Zoe has kept me at arm’s length while we’re both in the house, not wanting to chase a passion while Laura and the kids need her. We haven’t been intimate since the night we went to dinner.
Zoe returns my kiss. Heat floods through me. I’ve been waiting so long. I sense the desire in her. She lifts a hand to my face, pressing a palm against my cheek and spinning her body so that she’s facing me. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her close so suddenly that she almost trips. She giggles and wraps her arms around my neck.
We’re deep in a passionate kiss when
a thump upstairs makes us both jump back. Zoe flushes and immediately looks guilty. She clears her throat and tucks her hair behind her ear before turning back to the potatoes.
I pick up the knife again and begin peeling. We don’t say anything, and when Megan strides through the kitchen a moment later to pick up her cell phone charger, she has no idea that we were locked in a kiss an instant before.
Megan leaves, and I lean in toward Zoe, speaking softly. “Being so close to you is killing me.”
She turns to face me, her eyes filled with longing. “I know, Tom, but we can’t turn the kids’ tragedy into our fling.”
“It’s not like that.”
“I know. But we need to put them first.”
I say no more, even though I want nothing more than to kiss her again. She continues preparing dinner. It’s hard to be near her every day and to have to hold back, but I respect her for drawing the line. She always puts everyone else first.
Perhaps I would think she just wasn’t interested—if I wasn’t always catching her looking at me with big, affectionate eyes, or hearing her laughing at my jokes, or feeling her hand slip into mine when the kids weren’t around. I know she wants this, too.
“I don’t think I’ve ever cooked for Thanksgiving before.”
Zoe smiles. “You’re doing a great job. First the pancakes, now Thanksgiving dinner. You’re a natural in the kitchen.”
I’m spurred on by her compliments and show off by throwing herbs into the stuffing mix like I’m a pro chef, with no real idea of what the end result will be. Around Zoe, I’m discovering many new things about myself, and rediscovering old interests I haven’t pursued for a long time. I always loved to cook.
Between us, we prepare a feast. Before long, every pan in the kitchen is bubbling, and the air is filled with the delicious aroma of roasting turkey and yams.
Zoe and I have been brushing against each other all morning in the kitchen. We haven’t kissed again, but the air has been heavy with desire. Every now and then, Zoe throws me a fond glance. I catch her often glancing at me over her shoulder. When I spot her, she grins and looks away.
