by Jessica Kate
His tone remained professional. But it sounded like a plot to entwine her in his life again.
Her hands curled into fists, and she forced them flat. “You can’t find your own furniture?”
He reached toward the keys in his pocket. “Take it or leave it.”
She gritted her teeth. She’d had nightmares over the years where she met Jem and his new family, or Jem gate-crashed her wedding to a world-famous actor. A girl could dream. But never, ever, in the darkest recesses of her mind, had she imagined agreeing to work for him.
Her eyes shut momentarily. “Fine.”
Jem pulled out his phone. “I’ll send you the address. Come at seven thirty Monday, and we can work out the finer details then.”
She nodded.
He crossed to the driver’s side and slid in. She’d turned to go back inside when his window whirred down. “Beetroot,” he called.
“What?”
“Our safe word. It’s ‘beetroot.’”
She pressed her lips together to stop a smile. She was supposed to be mad. “You’re sleep deprived. Go home.”
He backed out of the driveway, head still poking out the window. “Beetroot! Don’t forget!”
“I’ll see you Monday.”
She made it sound more like a threat than a promise, but his grin looked like it remained as he drove away.
The front door squeaked, and vanilla sweetened the air. “Natalie?” Her mother joined her in the driveway, facing the twinkling lights of Charlottesville and the cool night breeze. “Are you okay?”
The question was quiet, thoughtful.
And difficult to answer.
Natalie injected levity into her tone. “The internship is a great opportunity. One I’ve been waiting on for a long time.”
Mom squeezed her hand. “I know. I just . . . I know how you throw yourself into whatever you put your mind to. It’s going to be a lot of work, especially with Jem—”
“A necessary evil.” She hugged her mother. “But nothing I can’t handle.”
Another lie.
6
“Lili, I ran into Miss Kent the other day.”
Lili choked on her grape juice as Mom looked at her across the dinner table, still dressed in her basketball uniform from this afternoon’s game.
The evening hadn’t been too awful after Lili and Dad arrived home from today’s disastrous afternoon at school. Mom had been out at basketball and Dad holed up in his office—probably praying Lili wouldn’t say anything to Mom. But now they were all together for a late supper, and the only thing worse than awkward silence was conversation.
Snagging a napkin, Lili blotted the red stains on her plate and tried to sound unconcerned. “Oh?”
“She said she loved your project. Have you received your marks yet?”
Dad kept his eyes on his plate. He hadn’t spoken for the entire meal.
“Uh . . . no. It, um, it got broken today.”
“What? How?”
Dad’s eyes flickered up.
She shifted in her seat. “Someone was being stupid and accidentally knocked it off the desk.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Mom’s voice jumped an octave. “I hope they were punished. Will it affect your grade?”
Lili glanced at Dad. “It better not.”
He cleared his throat and shoved a lettuce leaf into his mouth.
The silence stretched as Mom took a deep drink from her SlimShake, then set it down where her plate should have been. She adjusted her straw. “Today marks two weeks since the Women in Ministry group made our Shake’n’Shimmy pact.”
Dad rolled his eyes. “Steph, that diet is a complete fraud.”
Mom glared at him. “If you had your way, every pastor’s wife would wear potato sacks and no makeup.” She twirled an ironed-in curl. Somehow her hairstyles survived even the toughest workout. “Besides, Shauna’s doctor told her to lose weight.”
Dad shook his head. “It’s unhealthy. Those shakes are sawdust and milk, and if Shauna’s going to lose sixty pounds, she can’t depend on a dance routine for exercise.”
“Are you saying you know more than the team of scientists and doctors who endorsed the program?”
Dad acted as if Mom hadn’t spoken.
Mom sniffed. “Didn’t think so. It wouldn’t hurt you to tr—”
“Nick!” Lili jumped in, desperate for a change in topic.
Her parents stared at her.
“I, uh—I made a new friend today. His name’s Nick.”
Mom tilted her head. “What’s his last name? Do we know the family?”
“Kent. Nick Kent.” A sinking sensation lodged in her belly. Maybe Mom’s healthy-living rant would’ve been a better topic after all.
“Kent. As in Trish Kent’s nephew? Mike, is that the troubled boy you’ve been helping?” Mom’s voice neared levels only audible to dogs.
The words smacked Lili in the face. Of course. It made total sense. Nick and Stephen were the reason Dad and Miss Kent spent so much time together. They were the reason that—
“Don’t take that tone, Stephanie. Stephen’s the one who was in trouble. We got Nick into that school because he wanted an opportunity. Lili can be friends with him if she wants.”
Lili’s mouth fell open. Dad never spoke to Mom like that. At least she’d never heard it. But was it in defense of Lili or the Kents?
Mom’s lips twisted in that tight smile that fooled most people. Oh boy. She was really angry. “Of course she can, Mike. I just want to be certain we’re doing what’s best for our girl.” She nodded toward Lili. “For our family.”
The urge to spill the whole story rose up inside Lili. Or was that her dinner threatening a revisit? She threw her napkin on the table. “May I be excused?”
Mom frowned, but Dad spoke first. “Of course.”
Lili fled up the stairs, the hounds of truth barking behind her. Grabbing her robe, she dashed into the bathroom, set her phone’s music player to Mom’s most-hated rapper, and shoved the volume up all the way. Then she turned the shower up as hot as she could stand. Dad hated her using too much hot water.
Hair coiled in a soapy bun on her head, she practiced the dance moves Grace had been teaching her. Without Grace’s tutelage she was so awkward on the dance floor. No one would ever think she was attractive, let alone sexy.
She stopped, midshimmy.
Was that how Dad and Miss Kent had started? The woman was also the school’s dance teacher. It wouldn’t have been hard for her to invite Dad to practice and then seduce—
Ewww. Seduce was such a gross word, especially in reference to parents.
And what if it was the other way around? What if Dad had come on to Miss Kent?
She shoved her head under the spray and washed the soap out. Forget conditioner. She had to know.
She jumped out of the shower and dressed in her pajamas and robe in record time, then stomped in the direction of Dad’s office. He stood facing his computer, back to the door, staring at . . . nothing, by the looks of it. She stepped inside and shut the door with a bang.
He jumped. “Lili.”
No reprimand for slamming the door. He just sank into his leather chair and sighed. “What do you want to know?”
Lili folded her arms. “Who came on to who?”
“What?”
“Who came on to who? Did she start it? She did, didn’t she? That little—”
“No, Lili.”
Her arms dropped. “What?”
“No one started it. It just . . . One second we were discussing Nick’s scholarship, and the next . . .”
“Normal people discuss scholarships from opposite sides of a desk.” She shook her head. “I can’t do this. It’s killing me. Dinner was torture.”
“Lili, don’t. You’ll make things worse.”
“All you two did was fight, and half of it was fighting over me.” Sobs crept into her voice. “Is that what I do? Make it worse?”
“Liliiiiiiiii.” Dad dr
agged her name out. “This isn’t about you.”
That didn’t mean she wasn’t contributing to the issues. Sobs shook her robe, its tag tickling her neck. “Are you going to move out? Are we going to be like Grace’s family?”
“No, honey, I’m not going anywhere.” Dad stood and tugged her forearm till she was close enough to hug. “We’ll fix this. But I’ll be honest, it’s going to be a big job.”
They stood in silence for a moment, rocking back and forth to an unheard tune.
“What if you went and stayed with your Uncle Jem for a few weeks?” Dad said. “You’ve already been planning to babysit for him. We’ll tell Mom you thought it would be easier to stay there. It’ll be a good chance for the two of you to reconnect.”
She shrugged. How could she leave now? She was as shattered as her art project. She’d never needed her parents more.
“I’ve been trying to get Mom into couple’s therapy for a long time, but she won’t go. I think she’s embarrassed to admit to anyone we have problems, even to you. It’ll drag up things we’ve been hiding, and well . . . Our arguments may be a little louder than the usual whispers.” Dad eased back and placed both hands on her shoulders. “Just stay with Jem for a little while. Give us a chance to get started on the right track again. If we work on this, instead of ignoring it, it’s going to be painful at first. Things will get worse before they get better. I don’t want you to see that.”
Her lip trembled. She couldn’t stop it. She placed both hands over her mouth as two more tears squeezed out of her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Lili. I never wanted this to happen.” Dad’s voice was low. “But now that it has, I’m just trying to think about what’s best for you. For all of us.”
And that was for her to leave.
She scrubbed her hands over her face. “You won’t leave me there?”
“Of course not.”
“It’s just for a little while?”
“I couldn’t bear it any longer than that.”
She scrunched up her eyes and gave a single nod.
I can do this. I have to do this.
Otherwise, it sounded like her family would never make it through.
7
Natalie was walking into a trap.
Pacing in the corridor outside Jem’s apartment at 7:29 a.m. Monday, she rubbed her hands together. Her spark of hope from Friday had dissolved into a sense of impending doom.
Deep breaths, Nat. Just take some deep breaths.
Jem had hurt her too much last time. She’d spent the first six weeks stunned, believing he’d come back, and the next six weeks in bed.
She could never give him that kind of power again.
She shook off the thought, straightened her no-nonsense gray T-shirt for the bazillionth time, then rapped on the door. And waited.
It flew open as her hand drew back for another knock. Eyes barely open, Jem stood before her with his shirt untucked and just two buttons in their holes. A fully awake Olly clapped his hands and squealed.
Natalie smiled, then caught herself. “He woke you up early?”
“Yup.”
“I see you’re still a morning person.”
“Yup.”
Jem passed her the baby and walked into the apartment’s small dining area, fingers trailing the bordering kitchen’s brown Formica countertop straight from 1974. Eyes totally shut.
She looked around for Lili. Jem had texted her yesterday to say his niece would be staying for a couple of weeks so she could help babysit Olly and reconnect with Jem—her only uncle. Now it was nearly time for school. Natalie ran her eyes over the kitchen on her right and the dining/living area in front of her. No teenager. “Where’s Lili?”
Whatever Jem mumbled escaped her as he disappeared into a doorway off the living room.
Natalie focused her attention on the baby. With blond hair sticking out at crazy angles, he had dribbles of milk and drool running down his chin. He bounced in her arms, threw his weight forward, and face planted into her shoulder. A milky-wet patch remained when he pulled away.
A half-empty baby bowl rested on the counter, so she pulled up a wooden stool and scooped a tiny spoonful of mushy cereal.
This wasn’t so bad. Yet.
Lili appeared from a doorway off the kitchen, wearing an oversized Bazinga! T-shirt. “What’s all the noise?” She yawned halfway through the question.
The microwave clock flashed above Lili’s head. “Why are you sleeping? Shouldn’t you get ready for school?”
“In-service day.” Lili disappeared back into the room she’d come from, colorful artwork already plastered all over the door. Natalie smirked at the Dumbo-eared caricature of Jem.
Jem popped his head out from what must have been the bathroom, because a toothbrush poked out of his mouth. “I didn’t realize she had the day off till after I messaged you last night, but it’s good you’re here. Her having Olly after school is okay, but all day is too much.”
She glanced at the door Lili had closed behind her. She still wasn’t sure about leaving the baby with Lili at all. And what would happen when the teenager went back home? She couldn’t be staying more than a week or two.
Olly grabbed the cereal bowl. Natalie dropped the spoon and snatched it away. He smeared her cheek with a glob of cereal.
Jem strolled over, black business shirt in place and tie shoved into his pocket. The scent of his deodorant wafted over, a mixture of cedar and cinnamon. Her mouth watered like he was a six-foot-two pecan pie M&M.
“You’ve got a little somethin’.” He pointed to his own cheek, then plucked Olly from her lap.
She swiped the mush away as her cheeks heated.
Jem hoisted Oliver up to eye level and spoke into his chubby face. “You be nice to Natalie, okay? Stay out of the liquor cabinet and no wild parties.”
She rolled her eyes.
He gave the baby a loud kiss, then set him on the ground and offered him a plush Oscar the Grouch before he straightened. “I know I said we’d discuss the details of this arrangement today, but I’ve gotta go. If you’ve got time, I can do it tonight.”
Olly dropped Oscar on the floor and crawled over to a pile of toys. Natalie kept one eye on him and shrugged in Jem’s direction. “Sure.”
“And can you do me a favor?”
A favor . . . That was running into personal territory. Natalie pursed her lips. Today was strictly business. “Will it be legal?” Flashbacks of their childhood escapades ran through her mind.
The corner of Jem’s mouth pulled up. “This time, yes. I’m cashing in on my one condition. Can you take my credit card and buy us a couch? And a little dining table? We only moved in on the weekend, and I haven’t had time.”
She peeked past him to take a second look at the living room. Nothing but ugly gray walls, toys on the floor, and one photo of Olly hanging lopsided. One smallish TV sat on the mustard-colored carpet.
“Okay.” Not in her plan for today, but this was the deal they’d struck last night. Still, that didn’t mean she had to be enthusiastic about it. “Any particular style? Budget?”
“Classic, comfortable, and cheap. I’m not fussy. It can be secondhand. Just be your usual stingy self.” Jem dropped his card on the counter. “And . . . is it okay if you stay till five thirty today instead of three thirty?” He moved closer and lowered his voice. “Lili hasn’t spent a whole lot of time with Olly yet, and I’m nervous about leaving her alone with him without backup. Can you just see how she does with him? Tell me if there’s any truly heinous red flags?”
His eyes were wide, genuine, pleading. A nervous dad.
A piece of her softened.
“Five thirty, but not a minute later.” She tapped a finger on the counter to make her point. “Part of the Wildfire application process is co-leading a youth Bible study with Sam tonight. He wants to see the applicants’ skills before he decides anything.” After submitting her application on Saturday morning, she’d been ecstatic to receive a call from St
eph by lunch saying that Sam wanted to see her in action. Apparently Steph had talked her up, and Sam had loved the fact that Natalie had been working with her evangelist father since she was a teen.
“Not a problem. Thanks.” Jem snagged an apple as he moved toward the door.
She picked up the card and called out to him as he exited. “And I’ll take that stingy comment as a compliment.”
“As it was intended!” His chuckles drifted through the closed door.
She frowned at the place he had been. She hadn’t meant to banter with him. Laughter meant friendship, and that had died years ago.
She turned her attention to the baby who wasn’t hers playing on the floor. Now his blond hair had clumps of cereal in it.
His mother must be blonde.
* * *
A superstitious man might hesitate to declare his first day at work a success with two minutes left on the clock. But as Jem’s fingers on the keyboard raced the minute hand to five o’clock, he couldn’t quell a sense of optimism at having not just one but three articles filed on day one.
In the open-plan office around him, advertising reps discussed budgets, two sports reporters debated the upcoming Nationals vs. Mets game, and the police scanner crackled in the background. Jem inhaled a lungful of musty air—the result of filling an old building with hundreds of copies of newspapers—and smiled. It was good to be back in the bullpen. It’d been a lean month transitioning between his Chicago job and this one, and for some heart-stopping moments at 3:00 a.m. he’d questioned whether he’d ever work again in the shrinking industry that he loved.
But he was here. And he’d give up his signed Justin Timberlake CDs before he’d turn his back on this chance to make something of himself.
Four fifty-nine p.m. Article finished with a minute to spare. He clicked over to an online copy of last week’s op-ed. He needed to be more familiar with the local conversation if he was going to succeed here, but his mind kept drifting back to the checklist in his head.
A checklist titled Stuff to Sort Out Before I Contact Dad.
With Natalie’s assistance, his apartment was transitioning from his current “broke college student” decor to “an actual adult lives here.” Olly’s childcare situation was under control, at least temporarily and with some financial assistance from big brother Mike. Another reason to excel at this job: he needed to find a permanent solution for Olly’s care and pay Mike back ASAP.
