Acting Up

by Kristin Wallace

  “I know, go with them.”

  “Go with them so you can get something for yourself,” she said, quirking a brow.

  Aaron’s smile spread. “Cool.”

  As the boys raced off, Addison couldn’t help chuckling. She turned to take her seat and noticed all the women were staring now.

  “What?” she asked.

  They all smiled.

  “What?”

  Franny cleared her throat. “It’s just nice to see them so happy.”

  “Oh…”

  The simple observation overwhelmed her. It had been so long since she’d had the power to make anyone happy. Addison almost didn’t know what to do with the emotions.

  Elizabeth walked over and gave her a hug. There were tears swimming in her eyes when she pulled away. “It’s very nice.”

  “Mommy, why is everybody crying?” Jan’s son, Chris, asked.

  “Because we’re happy.”

  An adults-are-crazy expression flashed across his face. “Huh?”

  Fighting back a fresh onslaught of weepiness, Addison chuckled. “Never mind, Chris. Isn’t it someone’s turn?”

  “Yeah, mine!” he shouted.

  They all laughed and the charged moment passed. Pretty soon, the boys returned with sustenance. The rest of the game passed in a blur of crashing pins, good-natured jabs at failures, and hearty cheers for successes. Addison would never be a champion bowler, but she managed to stay out of the gutter the rest of the night. After the first game, Aaron found a group of older kids from school and begged off to play video games.

  At the end of the night, Addison volunteered to drive Jason and Carson home. Aaron wanted to stay longer, and after making sure one of the other mothers would drive him home later, she agreed. The drive to Ethan’s didn’t take long. Within a few minutes she pulled up to the most charming two-story, Victorian house she’d ever seen. Like some sort of life-sized dollhouse. A wrap-around porch was embellished with gingerbread trim. Tall picture windows marched along the outside on both floors. A gabled roof with more gingerbread trim finished off the enchanting picture.

  The front door opened, and Ethan stepped onto the porch.

  “Dad! Dad! I knocked down eight pins at once!” Carson cried.

  “I dropped seven!” Jason seconded.

  “Nice work, guys,” Ethan said, ruffling their hair. “Did you have a nice time with Addison?”

  “She tripped and almost went splat,” Carson announced.

  Jason followed up with a demonstration.

  “Hey, I thought we were going to keep that to ourselves,” Addison said.

  The twins covered their mouths, which didn’t disguise their giggles.

  Jason grabbed her hand. “Come up and see our room!”

  Carson took her other hand, and they dragged her up the stairs. Their room was a typical boys’ sanctuary. Twin beds with matching super hero comforters were on opposite walls. Long shelves, holding books and toys, sat under the window. The closet was an explosion of clothes and more toys and games, which told her Aaron came by his propensity for messiness naturally. It must be coded in the male DNA.

  The boys proceeded to introduce her to some of their favorite toys. Action figures, super heroes, miniature cars, and various rocks and handheld video games were among the treasures. Jason handed her the greatest treasure of all. A framed picture of a young, blond woman holding two tow-headed boys.

  The shot must have been taken some time ago, as the boys were still in their toddler years. A shimmering lake was in the background, but the sun on the surface of the water had nothing on the woman’s bright smile. Jenny Thomas was luminous. Almost glowing in her happiness.

  Addison sank down onto the bottom bunk. “Your mom?”

  The twins snuggled on either side of her. “She was the prettiest mommy ever,” Jason said with a soft sigh.

  Addison put an arm around his slim shoulder. “She was.”

  “Sometimes I start to forget her,” Carson said. “Then I look real hard at the picture.”

  Something twisted inside her and as if by magic, the dark knot of envy twisting around Addison’s heart disappeared. What did it matter if the woman had a shrine? Jenny Thomas had brought these two wonderful boys into the world and taught them a mother’s love. A gift that deserved a statue. Ten statues.

  “You’ll never forget her,” Addison said. “She’s in your heart.”

  “She smelled like apples,” Jason said. “When Gamma makes an apple pie, it’s almost like Mommy’s there, too.”

  “You know, I bet she is.”

  Both boys gazed at her, faces shining with hope. “Ya think so?” they asked in unison.

  Addison nodded.

  “Cool,” they chorused.

  “Boys, it’s time for bed,” Ethan said from the doorway. “Go start your baths.”

  The twins’ faces screwed up. “Aw, Dad!”

  Ethan arched a brow and their protests died away. As they scrambled off the bed, Jason took the picture and put it back on the desk.

  “Did you thank Addison for taking you to the bowling tournament?” Ethan asked.

  The twins threw their arms around her, and she hugged them close, breathing in their little boy scents.

  “You’re almost as pretty as Mommy,” Jason whispered.

  Addison’s breath caught. “Thank you.”

  A moment later, their pounding feet echoed down the hall.

  Ethan shifted. “Want to wait?” he asked. “I should make sure they don’t just splash some water around the bathroom.”

  Unable to speak for the emotion welling up in her throat, Addison could only nod. She slipped by him and went back downstairs. The sound of high-pitched giggles accompanied by Ethan’s baritone laughter floated down the stairs.

  Since no one was around to stop her, Addison decided to poke around. In the dining room she discovered a gleaming, antique table and a gorgeous china cabinet. At the end of the room, French doors opened onto the front porch.

  The kitchen was a mess, thankfully. It was nice to know the whole place didn’t belong in a magazine. The playroom-slash-family room off the kitchen offered further evidence of people living in the house.

  Finally, Addison arrived in the living room. The carved wooden mantle on the fireplace was a work of art. Above the mantle was a large portrait. This photograph had been taken at a studio and featured the entire family. A Christmas photo, judging by the red and green theme. The twins were older in this shot, maybe five or six.

  “Our last Christmas together,” Ethan said.

  Startled, Addison jumped and spun around. Ethan stood in the archway between the foyer and the living room.

  “Bath time finished already?” Addison asked, trying not to feel guilty about poking around.

  “The boys are brushing their teeth.”

  “Your house is lovely.”

  “Thank you. Jenny worked hard to fix it up. It sat empty for years, so it had gotten pretty run down.”

  Of course Jenny Thomas had been a master decorator. “It’s hard to tell people even live here. Especially in here and the dining room.”

  “We don’t use these rooms too often,” Ethan said, eyes focused on the image over Addison’s shoulder. “I have a lady come in and dust once a week, but we’re usually in the den or the kitchen.”

  Right. Formal rooms would only bring back memories of dinner parties and Christmas trees by the bay window.

  “You all look very happy,” Addison said, gesturing toward the portrait.

  “We were.”

  Silence. An awkward silence that heightened her anxiety. Ripples of unease turned to pounding waves.

  “Thank you—”

  “It was fun—”

  They both stammered to a halt.

  “You first,” she said.

  “I was going to thank you for taking the boys tonight,” Ethan said. “They obviously had a great time.”

  “We all did. I was worried about fitting in with the ot
her mothers at first, but I think I won them over.”

  The corner of his mouth kicked up. “You have a way of doing that.”

  “Have I won you over?”

  Ethan stared down at her, his expression solemn. “I think the issue is you winning over my sons.”

  A long silence followed, and Addison could tell he was gathering the courage to do something. His expression became even more shuttered and distant. Whatever Ethan was working up the nerve to say couldn’t be good. Dread slid down her spine.

  The look in Ethan’s eyes when he finally glanced up chilled her to the bone. “You’re leaving soon,” he said.

  “So?”

  “I’m worried Jason and Carson are getting too attached. I don’t want them hurt when you go back to your real life.”

  “Are you concerned about the twins or yourself?”

  “Maybe both. You’re a gorgeous woman. Intoxicating in many ways. When I’m with you, I feel alive again.”

  “Then why are you pushing me away?”

  “Because this is only a rest stop for you, and no matter what I might feel, I have to protect my sons. I appreciate you taking them bowling tonight. It was sweet of you, but I think—”

  Yeah, Addison definitely recognized this scenario. It was called being dumped. The reasons were noble perhaps, but painful all the same. “I should keep my distance. Don’t encourage them, or you apparently, to get attached. I get it.”

  Ethan closed his eyes. When he opened them, she saw a flash of raw anguish. “Addison—” His voice broke.

  Well, at least they would both suffer after tonight. There was no comfort in the knowledge, however. “It’s all right. You’ve got to protect the innocents from the nice lady who’s only passing through.”

  This time Ethan groaned. “I’m a complete jerk.”

  Wouldn’t everything be easier if he was? All those slay-the-dragon-my-lady qualities she admired so much dictated he sacrifice his own heart for the well-being of his children.

  The stitches holding Addison’s damaged heart together started to fray again. “No, you’re a father trying to do the right thing.”

  Regret. Pain. Disappointment. All of those emotions were reflected back at her. “You deserve better.”

  “So do you.”

  “I wish—”

  “I know. I should go.” She kissed her fingertips and pressed them to his lips. There was no way she could trust herself to kiss him. “Pass that on to the boys for me.”

  Ethan made another sound of distress and stepped toward her.

  “Please don’t touch me,” she said, holding out a hand to ward him off.

  Addison spun around and reached for the door, but before she could turn the handle, Ethan wrapped his arms around her.

  Warmth invaded her limbs, and Addison nearly wept. It seemed unimaginable she would never feel this again.

  His lips touched her temple. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Addison’s new rule of keeping her distance from Ethan and the twins took a nosedive when said twins showed up on Saturday bearing gifts. Specifically, three baskets filled with plastic green grass and an assortment of candy wrapped in pastel tinfoil. There was even a giant chocolate bunny smack in the middle of each basket.

  More calorie-laden goodies. “What’s this for?” Addison asked, eyeing the offering and imagining the tortures her personal trainer would devise once she went home. The very idea sent sheer terror coursing through her veins.

  Jason’s look said she was one marshmallow chick short of a dozen. “It’s an Easter basket.”

  “For Easter,” Carson clarified in case Addison was too ignorant to figure out the rest of the puzzle.

  “Of course, I knew that,” she lied. “Thank you.”

  Carson shifted from one foot to the other. “Can we come in and give Aaron and Mimi Ruth their baskets?”

  Did inviting the boys in constitute encouraging them to get too attached? Probably.

  “You know what, Aaron is in the shower and Mimi Ruth is napping, so now isn’t the best time for a visit,” Addison said. “I’ll take the baskets and make sure they get them.”

  Two pairs of shoulders practically drooped to the ground.

  “Okay,” Carson sighed.

  “Maybe later, huh?” Jason suggested.

  “Sure, later,” Addison said, struggling to speak around the lump in her throat. She kissed both boys on the cheek. “Thanks again for the baskets.”

  Addison shut the door and then paused a moment to rest her head against the frame. Why did doing the right thing have to hurt so much?

  “You lied to the munchkins?”

  The accusation came from Aaron, who was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, a can of soda in one hand and a bag of chips in the other.

  “I didn’t lie,” Addison said. “I fibbed.”

  “Is there a difference?”

  “Yes.” She slipped into the kitchen and deposited the Easter baskets on the counter. Aaron put his soda and chips aside to paw through the closest one.

  Aunt Ruth came in, scooting her walker across the floor. “Did I hear someone at the door?”

  “The Thomas kids,” Aaron said. “They brought these, and then Addison gave them the boot.”

  Obviously, Addison’s mental telepathy telling the teenager not to squeal had failed. “That’s not true,” she said, scowling at him.

  “She said you were napping, so they couldn’t come in,” the teenager said, still ignoring all warning signs.

  “She could have been napping,” Addison said.

  Aunt Ruth gave her a searching look. “Yesterday, you took them bowling. Today, they can’t come in the house. Did something happen last night?”

  Stalling, Addison reached into one of the baskets and pulled out a mini chocolate egg wrapped in pink foil. “No.”

  “She’s a terrible liar,” Aaron said, once again telling tales.

  These little chocolate eggs would make great missiles.

  Addison resisted the childish impulse to chuck the candy. For one thing, it was beneath her. For another, throwing chocolate would mean missing out on eating it.

  “It’s no big deal,” Addison said. “Ethan and I talked about it last night when I dropped off the boys, and we both agreed I shouldn’t encourage them to get too attached.”

  “Why?” Aunt Ruth asked.

  “Because I’m leaving soon. Ethan, I mean, we don’t want the boys hurt when I do.”

  Aaron made a rude sound. “Adults. You guys can always find a way to complicate things.”

  So saying, the teenager took his Easter basket and escaped to the den.

  Which left Addison alone with her aunt. “Well, any words of advice from you?”

  Aunt Ruth sighed. “Did it occur to you that ignoring the boys while you’re still here will hurt them even more?”

  Well, not until this moment. “It’s not up to me.”

  Another sigh. “I suppose not. I’m sorry. I had started to hope—” she broke off.

  “Hoped what?”

  “Never mind, dear,” Aunt Ruth said, though her disappointment was clear. “Just the silly imaginings of an old woman.”

  Imaginings like falling in love with Ethan and living in Covington Falls the rest of her life, no doubt. “I can’t stay.”

  “Of course, Addison, I know. I’ll just go lie down and take that nap you were accusing me of.”

  With a parting smile, Aunt Ruth made her way back to her bedroom. Aaron was right, Addison thought as she fished out another piece of candy from her Easter basket. Adults always did find ways to complicate things.

  ****

  Easter Sunday dawned with a crystal blue sky so bright it almost hurt the eyes. Aunt Ruth would not hear of missing church and insisted Addison and Aaron had to come, too. Addison chose a buttercup yellow sundress, which seemed appropriately spring-like and cheerful. However, she didn’t get the memo about the hats. Cli
mbing out of the car, she concluded every woman in the entire town had worn an Easter bonnet. Pink ones, blue ones, purple ones, feathered ones. Pillbox and wide-brimmed. Straw and silk. Even the baby girls sported tiny bonnets.

  And gloves. Addison hadn’t been aware anyone outside of actresses appearing in period pieces wore gloves anymore.

  “Just when I thought this place couldn’t get any weirder,” Aaron muttered beside her.

  “Hush and go help Aunt Ruth.”

  “Addison!”

  Turning, she saw Jason and Carson tearing across the parking lot toward them. Amazingly, the boys were wearing suits, with ties no less.

  “Well, don’t you two look dashing?” Addison said.

  Ethan ambled up. Addison said hello while managing not to look him in the eye. However, nothing could stop her from noticing how handsome he was in his navy suit and red tie.