One in a Million

by Susan Mallery

  “Drew.” Kenzie wanted to say a half-dozen things at once and landed on, “Aunt Ann is certainly not crazy.”

  “She cries as much as Abby, if she doesn’t think anyone’s looking.”

  “Women who’ve recently had babies can be a little emotional, honey.”

  “I didn’t ask her to have a baby! Or to move in with us. We’re too crowded already, and she and Uncle Forrest have a huge house. Can I go live with him? Just us guys.”

  She couldn’t really see Forrest tossing around the pigskin with a little boy; the professor was more likely to consider checking the morning stocks together a bonding activity.

  The vice principal leaned forward. “We certainly aren’t advocating that he go live with anyone else, but it does seem as if he’s surrounded by a lot of female influence. He’s welcome to speak to our guidance counselor anytime he chooses—she’s a wonderful listener and the kids all seem to respond to her—but Mrs. Frazer and I thought that perhaps he could benefit from a male presence in his life. A mentor of sorts. If his father’s not available to help—”

  “Not at this time,” Kenzie said flatly.

  “Then perhaps this Uncle Forrest?”

  “Ah…that’s a possibility.” A complicated, awkward possibility, but worth discussing with Ann if it was in Drew’s best interest.

  “What about JT?” Drew said suddenly.

  Kenzie’s jaw dropped. “JT?”

  “Yeah, he could be my mental.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so, honey. I wasn’t even sure you liked him. And he’s so busy with his painting....”

  “Yeah.” Drew’s chin thrust out. “Everyone’s always so busy.”

  Her heart hurt.

  The vice principal cleared her throat. “Well, we’ve certainly given you a lot to think about over the three-day holiday, haven’t we, Mrs. Green? You and Drew talk, and let us know if we can be of any help.”

  “Thanks.” Kenzie walked with Drew to the door and wished both of the other women a good Labor Day weekend.

  Kenzie had arranged for Leslie to ride home solo on the bus and for Ann to meet her at the stop. That gave Kenzie and her son a few minutes to talk privately in the car. If he didn’t want to, should she push? It turned out that worry was for nothing. He started firing questions at her even before he had his seat belt buckled.

  “Is Aunt Ann living with us because Uncle Forrest doesn’t love her anymore? Will Abigail grow up without a daddy, too? Is she going to move with us into the new house?”

  “No, honey. You know how sometimes I have to separate you and Leslie when you’re fighting?”

  Despite his sullen attitude, he flashed a mischievous grin. “You mean when we’re annoying you?”

  “Ann and Forrest didn’t want to fight, so they’re kind of giving each other a time-out. I don’t know how much longer she’ll be staying with us, but she is not moving into the new house.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Not entirely. “Why did you suggest JT as a mentor?” She would have been less surprised to hear him mention Sean. Though he didn’t technically know the blond man well, they’d certainly hit it off. With JT, Drew was pricklier than a den full of hedgehogs.

  “Dunno,” the boy muttered. “He’s a guy. He lives even closer than Uncle Forrest.”

  And JT had officially been on more outings with Drew than his biological father had all year. “Those are logical reasons,” she agreed. “But I thought you didn’t like him.”

  “I don’t like art. At least, I didn’t think so. Some of the stuff at that museum was kinda cool, I guess. Besides, Leslie’s a suck-up. If you and JT start dating, I want to make sure he likes me, too. Or she’ll get better presents at Christmas.”

  “Drew!” Kenzie gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying not to veer into oncoming traffic. Back way the hell up, son. “I already told you I didn’t have any plans to date JT. I hardly think you need to start worrying about Christmas presents.”

  “Did you ever plan for you and Dad to, you know, end up living apart? Do you think he planned to be a better dad?”

  How had her nine-year-old become so wise in the ways of the world? “I know it bothers your daddy that he isn’t doing a better job. He’s said so on more than one occasion.”

  “Then why doesn’t he try harder?” Drew demanded.

  “Sometimes it’s hard for people to change, even when they really, really want to.”

  “If he ever gets a hit song on the radio, I’m not listening to it!”

  “If you think that will make you feel better.”

  He stared out the window, not speaking again until she pulled into a parking space. “Mom, do you think JT would teach me how to paint?”

  “I, uh… Honey, I really don’t know. He’s been having a hard time with painting lately, and we won’t be here much longer,” she reminded him. But Drew looked so unexpectedly crestfallen that she heard herself say, “I’ll ask him. No promises, though!”

  Life would be so much easier, she reflected, without promises. Fewer broken vows to spouses and disappointments to children. Even privately, promises could trip up a person. She’d sworn to be independent and responsible, avoiding men who might hurt her or have the power to wound her kids, yet she’d begun thinking of JT at random moments and as she fell asleep at night. Now her reticent son was beginning to carve out a place in his life and affections for the artist.

  Please, please don’t hurt us. Even if it were a promise she had the right to ask for, was it one he’d be able to keep?

  Chapter 10

  As soon as Kenzie walked into the apartment, she saw a huge floral arrangement dominating the coffee table. No point in asking who they were for, considering Ann’s giddy expression.

  “Can you believe he sent flowers?” she asked, beaming in Kenzie and Drew’s direction. Then she sobered. “Everything go okay at the school?”

  “Fine,” Kenzie replied, cutting her eyes toward Drew and hoping to convey to her sister that they’d talk later. “Leslie make it home all right?”

  Ann nodded. “She’s in her room listening to her iPod and doing homework.”

  “What a nerd,” Drew said. “We have three whole days before class.”

  “Yes, but your sister knows better than to procrastinate,” Kenzie said pointedly.

  “I guess I should go work.”

  She tousled his hair. “Good guess.”

  As he shuffled down the hall, she bent to inhale the fragrance of the purple and yellow bouquet. The last time a man had sent her flowers had been her boss in Raindrop when she’d discovered an accounting error in the bank’s favor.

  “So, was there a card?” she asked her sister.

  “It said ‘I miss you. Forrest.’ If it hadn’t had his name on it, I might have thought JT sent these for you.”

  Kenzie tried not to imagine how she’d feel if he made such a gesture. “‘I miss you’? Simple, classic, to the point. I like it. Did you call to let him know you got them?”

  “I left a message.” Ann floated to the kitchen, where she lifted a pot lid and stirred something that smelled divine. “I told him thank-you. And that I miss him, too. And that Abby misses the way he sings to her when she’s fussy.”

  “Forrest sings?” Kenzie couldn’t quite picture that.

  “Yeah, he has a surprisingly good voice. I try to soothe her with lullabies, but it’s not the same.” Ann worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Do you think it’s selfish of me, being here and separating her from her dad at a formative age?”

  “I don’t think you’ve scarred her for life, no, but I’m sure she’d be happy to go home. Drew asked me today if…”

  “If what?”

  “Well, if you were plannin
g to move into the new house with us.”

  Ann gave a horrified bark of laughter, then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, dear. Has my being here upset him?”

  “He loves you. He really loves your cooking. He may not fully appreciate Abby yet, but that will come as they both get older. His teacher, however, is worried about estrogen overload. He’s living with a sister, mom, aunt and tiny female cousin with a wardrobe of pink. They think he could benefit from some male influence. I wondered the same thing last spring, when he kept angling to get extra attention and playing time from his coaches.”

  Ann poured two glasses of ice water, handing one to Kenzie. “Are you thinking about calling Mick?”

  Sipping the water, Kenzie considered the possible outcomes of such a call. “He’s notoriously difficult to get ahold of. He doesn’t stay in one place long, his cell phone gets turned off whenever he’s low on funds, and he’s slow to return messages. That said, if I could reach him and I told him about the vice principal’s concerns, he’d ask if there was anything he could do and would immediately want to talk to Drew. He’d promise to come spend a weekend of special father-son time—he might even do it, if a gig didn’t crop up in the meantime—but if he came and spent a wonderful weekend with Drew, it would hurt Les. And if he came and spent a wonderful weekend with both of them, full of resolutions to be a better dad and see them more, it would just leave more pieces for me to pick up when another six months pass before we hear from him again.”

  “That sounds like a no on calling him, then.”

  “He means well.” Kenzie set her glass on the counter. “But intentions aren’t enough. There needs to be action, follow-through.” Speaking of well-intentioned promises… “I told Drew I’d ask JT for a favor this weekend. I expect to see him at the tenants Labor Day picnic. Think we could whip up some really great dessert I could use as a bribe?”

  Ann struck a goofy femme fatale pose. “You sure you don’t want to bargain with sexual favors, instead?”

  “Rhiannon!” Kenzie paused, her mind departing on naughty flights of fancy. “We’ll call that plan B.”

  As JT stared at his reflection in the bedroom mirror, he was struck simultaneously by two absurd bits of behavior—he was whistling a jaunty tune and he was considering changing clothes, inexplicably second-guessing whether his denim shorts and faded Shakespeare Tavern T-shirt were too informal for the annual rooftop picnic. The ringing phone interrupted his contemplation and he answered, half his mind still on wardrobe issues.

  “Yo,” Sean said in greeting. “Just wanted to let you know the Owenbys were thrilled. I knew they would be, but I thought you’d want to hear they loved the painting.”

  “Thanks,” JT said absently, carrying the cordless phone toward the closet. Well, no wonder he’d gone with this shirt, he realized a second later. It was one of the few that had been clean and on a hanger. “Have you ever known me to be jaunty?”

  “Not on purpose. There was that one Christmas party, though, with the eggnog incident.”

  “You’ve conveniently confused me with you.”

  “So I have. What’s up? Feeling jaunty?”

  JT had no idea what he was feeling. It was as if after months of living in the relative safety of dark numbness, he’d emerged into a kaleidoscope of bright emotion. Not an entirely pleasant sensation. As with a numb limb that had been “awakened,” there were sharp needles of pain.

  Along with returning responsibilities, he thought, glancing around as if seeing the dim room for the first time. He was an artist, for crying out loud, and there wasn’t a damn thing hanging on the walls in here. When was the last time he’d made the bed? The pile of dirty clothes against the wall probably qualified for historic landmark status.

  JT frowned. “I gotta go, man.”

  “Tell Kenzie I said hello.”

  “I didn’t say anything about seeing her.”

  “You were behaving even more bizarrely than normal, so I intuited you must be nervous about spending time with a certain cute blonde. Plus, when we were at dinner, I overheard mention of the Labor Day picnic. Tell Mrs. Sanchez I said hi, too. Her cooking has ruined me for all other women.”

  “Why should I be nervous about seeing Kenzie? She’s my neighbor. I see her all the time. She’s…nice.”

  “I’ll say.”

  “Don’t think about her in that tone of voice.” A wave of irrational possessiveness rose inside him.

  “No lewd disrespect intended. I admire her wit and parenting skills and how adorably protective she is of her sister. But none of that precludes noticing just how—”

  “I’m serious.”

  “All right.” Sean paused. “So why are you nervous about seeing her?”

  “Because I want to,” he said finally. It had been a long time since he’d let himself look forward to something, since he’d truly wanted anything. Even though he’d complained about not being able to paint, that had been more frustration than the desire to create. On a basic level, he wanted Kenzie.

  He wasn’t sure if it would ever deepen into a more complicated emotion or if he was too damaged for that. For the time being, just wanting to be near her was something to savor. A rare gift he’d doubted he would experience again.

  Now that he’d managed to answer Sean’s question, though, JT was plagued with one of his own—did Kenzie want him?

  In her mind, Kenzie always associated September and the start of each new school year with the changing seasons and the crisp bite of fall. In reality, however, today was approaching record-breaking highs and the baking heat stole her breath as she stepped onto the roof. Three minutes up here and she’d be sweating like a petty criminal during a tax audit.

  A chorus of friendly hellos met her, and she smiled at Mrs. Sanchez and Mr. C. Alicia from downstairs approached and offered to carry the glass dish over to the food table. But Kenzie didn’t see—

  “Excuse me.” JT’s voice was an apologetic rumble and she felt more than saw him draw up short to avoid colliding with her.

  She turned to look over her shoulder, drinking him in with her eyes. “No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t be blocking the doorway.” With him so close, taking a step away was the last thing she wanted to do, but she suspected he’d like to set down the heavy cooler he was toting.

  “I don’t cook,” he said sheepishly. “Ice and sodas are my traditional contribution.”

  “Hey, don’t knock the ice and soda. On a scorcher like today, they’ll be a hit.”

  “Maybe next year we can do this in the parking garage instead. Think of all that shade. Then again, the view’s nicer here.”

  Got that right, she thought, unable to resist watching as he walked past her toward the folding tables.

  A moment later, he returned, carrying two different kinds of soft drink. “Take your pick,” he offered.

  “Thank you.” She unscrewed the lid of one, toying with the plastic.

  “Where’s everyone else?” he asked.

  “They’ll be up soon. Leslie’s helping get the baby ready, and Drew had to finish his video-game level before he saved his progress.” All true, but Kenzie had ducked out ahead of her family on purpose, crossing her fingers for a chance to speak with JT alone. “I was hoping to run into you this afternoon.”

  “Oh?” His eyes were a hot liquid silver, and she almost blushed under their scrutiny.

  She nodded, leaning against a section of decorative railing. “I need to talk to you about something. If you have a minute?”

  “Fire at will.”

  The phrase might be more apt than he’d intended. He seemed a fairly private man, and she’d wondered if he ever felt under attack from his temporary but invasive neighbors. Leslie pushed for his company every time she saw him; Drew was barely civil. Now there were Ann and
the baby, too. While JT had never complained, Kenzie suspected he could sometimes hear Abigail crying. Knowing he’d been expecting a child of his own, she better understood the way he quickly glanced away from the infant when he encountered her.

  She swallowed. “My son, Drew? I realize you don’t know us very well, but I’m sure you’ve noticed he’s…working through some issues.”

  JT laid his arm across the rail, not touching her but close enough that she could feel the warmth from his skin. “Artists are supposed to be observant. I may not have known you long, but I think I’m starting to know you well. The twins are angry, with good reason, but they’re amazing kids with lots of talent and strength. And you’re a great mom who’s doing a hell of a job with little help.”

  At twenty-eight, having someone praise her ability as a mother was about the headiest compliment she could imagine, far more potent than if he’d told her she had a lovely smile or shapely legs. “Thank you, but you give me too much credit. Ann’s been helping, too.”

  “Seems to me that’s a two-way street. Is she here to assist you, or are you giving her sanctuary through a tough time?”

  “Both, I guess. Although her presence is part of why I need to talk to you.”

  His eyebrows winged skyward.

  “Drew’s teacher and vice principal called me in for a short conference yesterday. Apparently, one of the things he’s unhappy about is being constantly surrounded by females.”

  JT grinned into his drink. “He’ll grow out of that. In a few years, girls won’t seem so bad.”

  “Even then, I suspect his mom, aunt and sister won’t rate very high on his cool list. Meanwhile, the staff at his school feel he’d benefit from more, um, male influence in his life. A role model or teacher.”

  “I suppose that makes sense,” JT said carefully, obviously starting to question how this applied to him.