by Lee McKenzie
“Do you and your mom talk about those things?”
“Not really, but I hear stuff and see stuff.”
Good to know. “How do you feel about her not dating?” He asked because he genuinely wanted to know. He just wished he could have found a way to do it without sounding like a psychologist on a TV talk show.
Jenna shrugged. “I don’t know. I just want her to be happy, I guess.”
“Do you think she is?”
She faced him again. “Yeah, I do. She’s a pretty cool mom…”
How many teenagers would admit to thinking something like that?
But Jenna wasn’t finished. “And I’d be really pissed if anybody did anything to hurt her.”
Bingo. Now they were getting somewhere. She resented his misdirected anger over the makeup fiasco—and who could blame her?—but her real resentment ran a lot deeper.
A few minutes ago their conversation had been well outside his comfort zone. This new twist had him scrambling. What was the right thing to say here? To hell with the right thing—he couldn’t think of anything to say.
He remembered one time back in his senior year in high school, he had gone to a girl’s home to pick her up, and her father had outlined the consequences for any boy who did anything to his daughter. It hadn’t even been a date, as he recalled. They were going to a chemistry study group. Then there had been numerous lectures from his own father. Not “the talk” in the sense that Kristi had referred to the other night, but more of a “be a gentleman” kind of thing. He’d managed to wait till he was almost finished grad school before getting his girlfriend pregnant, and by then he knew well enough what doing the right thing meant.
That’s not what Jenna meant, though. Or he hoped it wasn’t. She would be “pissed” if someone hurt her mom in the emotional sense. She was also enjoying being in control of the situation, having turned the tables on him, and she was waiting for him to respond.
“Ah…” He hated to think what shade of red his face had turned. “I would never…not intentionally…ever do anything to hurt your mother.”
Not what she wanted to hear, apparently.
What else could he say? He and Kristi had a business relationship, and together they’d hatched this plan to be each other’s plus-one as a way to avoid the awkward setups their families kept arranging for them. This was supposed to be simple, straightforward, easy. How had it become so complicated, so fast?
It became complicated when he kissed her, which was right around the time he’d figured out that he’d like their arrangement to be more than a matter of convenience. That much he could acknowledge, even to Jenna, because it was true. And if she repeated it to Kristi, which he strongly suspected she would, it would sound as though he was covering up the fake dating scenario by making it sound real.
“Your mom and I are just getting to know each other, and right now neither of us has a clue where this is headed or how the future’s going to look. We’re taking it slow.” Kristi had laughed when he’d said that earlier. Lucky for him, Jenna seemed to accept it at face value.
“Good.” She went to work on the last salad bowl—no thumping this time—while he stowed the other containers in the fridge.
For another couple of minutes they worked in comfortable silence while she rinsed the bowls and he loaded them in the dishwasher.
On their way back to the sunroom they passed his mother, carrying a stack of plates and cutlery.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Everything’s fine,” he said. “Do you need a hand with anything else?”
“You go join the others, and let your father know he should come in for dessert. Jenna, would you mind helping me? You can bring in your mom’s cupcakes.”
Kristi gave him a questioning look when he joined her at the table.
“Everything okay?” It was the same question his mother had asked, right down to the subtext.
He seated himself and reached for Kristi’s hand beneath the table, glad that for the moment Molly and Martha were outside with their grandfather and Britt was occupied with her phone.
“Better than okay.”
Her smile was probably meant to convey thank you. What he saw was a mouth he desperately wanted to kiss, a face he wanted to look at over and over again and a woman who deserved so much more than a fake relationship.
Chapter Ten
Every Monday morning Kristi met Sam and Claire at Ready Set Sold’s downtown office, dropped off the past week’s receipts and other paperwork, and then the three of them held their weekly business meeting over coffee at a café down the block. This morning, in spite of her best intentions, she was running a little late. Sam and Claire were already at the coffee shop, and Marlie, their office manager, was talking into her headset, her long acrylic nails clacking on her keyboard.
Today the nails were purple with silver glitter to match her purple skirt and complement a snug-fitting cream-colored sweater that was lavishly bedazzled with rhinestones. Her hair was big, as were her other assets, including the engagement ring on her left hand. Her boyfriend, Thomas, had proposed last winter but appeared to be in no hurry to set a date.
“Good morning, angel,” she said when she was off the phone. “The other two have already gone for coffee.” Her nickname, Marlie, was short for Marline. She referred to her three employers as “Marlie’s angels,” and they loved her for it.
“I know. Claire just sent me a text message.” Kristi pulled a manila envelope out of her bag. “These are my receipts. I’m afraid I didn’t have time to sort them for you.”
“Did you write the clients’ names on them?”
“These are all for the Anderson house. I finished there last week, so this should be it for that project.”
Marlie reached for the envelope. “Hand them over. I’ll sort them.”
“You will?” Kristi blew her a kiss. “You’re my favorite office manager in the whole world.”
“I understand you’ve taken on an interesting new client.” Her emphasis on the word interesting told Kristi that Sam or Claire, possibly both, had told her about Nate. She knew her partners well enough to know they wouldn’t tell Marlie the whole story.
Kristi decided to play along. “Very interesting. Of all the houses I’ve worked on, this is definitely my favorite so far.”
“And the owner?”
Ditto. “He’s…”
“Sam says he’s a real catch.”
Kristi laughed. “Okay, Sam did not say that.” Sam never said things like that.
“You’re right, but she didn’t have to. Besides, Claire showed me his picture.” The phone rang, and Marlie clicked a button on her headset. “Ready Set Sold. How may I help you?”
Kristi took advantage of the distraction and slipped into the tiny office she shared with her two partners. Shortly after they opened the business, they’d found space on the second floor of an old building near Pioneer Square. The small reception area was Marlie’s domain. It led to an even smaller office that Kristi technically shared with her two business partners. Kristi tended to work at home and out of her minivan because it meant she could spend more time with Jenna, and Sam ran the construction end of the business out of the ancient delivery truck she had converted into a mobile workshop.
Claire used the office more than either of them, especially to meet with clients, and the space was organized accordingly. The glass-topped desk with dark espresso-colored legs had been Kristi’s idea b
ecause it made the small room feel more open. The surface, completely free of fingerprints and clutter, was all Claire’s doing.
On the back wall above a narrow credenza were three framed photographs that showcased some of their recent projects. Kristi changed them every month, and next week she’d be adding new ones. Right now the display consisted of a cedar deck Sam had recently refurbished on the back of a home overlooking Lake Union, a one-and-a-half-story Tudor in Montlake with Claire’s Sold sign in the front yard and a before-and-after montage of a handyman’s workbench that Kristi had organized.
Her phone buzzed. Another text message from Claire, wondering when she would join them. She grabbed her bag and waved at Marlie as she retraced her steps through the front office, texting a hasty I’m on my way!
* * *
THE HOUSE FELT quiet, almost too quiet. Nate set his laptop on the peninsula and turned it on. Half an hour ago his mother had picked up the girls and they were spending the day at the zoo and having dinner at their favorite fast-food restaurant. They wouldn’t be home until bedtime.
Kristi had a meeting with her business partners this morning, and then she was going shopping for “storage solutions” that would help him keep the house organized. He probably could have found a reason to go with her, but as much as he enjoyed spending time with her, he didn’t care for shopping. Her business partner, Sam, would arrive midmorning to finish painting. She had also made arrangements for someone to give him an estimate on putting a fence around the swimming pool. He walked to the patio doors and gazed out at the yard where Gemmy lay sprawled in the sun.
He and Heather had loved the idea of having a pool, spending time out there with the girls. It had been one of the deciding factors when they bought the house, right after they got married, but they had never used it. By the time they moved in, Heather’s health was deteriorating. After the girls were born, he could barely keep his head above water in the figurative sense. With the demands of his family and launching his career at the university, there had been no time for relaxation. By the next summer Heather was very sick, and with two toddlers, the pool had been nothing more than a safety hazard. He’d had it drained and the cover installed, and it had been like that ever since.
For the past two years, fixing up the pool had been relegated to the list of things it would be nice to do…someday. For now, he had two little girls who depended on him for everything. Three meals a day, clean clothes, bedtime stories. Everything he had to do to live up to his promise to Heather, to love the girls enough for both of them. In between he prepared lectures, graded papers, carried out research projects and sat on faculty committees.
Give your head a shake, man. He had a rare day to himself and he had work to do. He shouldn’t be dredging up the past. After being in a holding pattern for the past two years, his life was changing. And all because of Kristi. He was disappointed she wouldn’t be here today. If she was, he might have an easier time settling down to work. Or he’d be completely distracted.
He turned away from the window, switched on his computer and forced himself to take a seat. One thing was certain. Kristi’s being here couldn’t be any more distracting than her not being here. He opened the document containing the paper he was working on and stared at the screen. He was so relieved when the phone rang that he grabbed it and answered without checking the call display.
“Nate, it’s Alice. I’ve been expecting you to call.”
He knew that, and in spite of the talk he’d had with Kristi on the weekend, he had been reluctant to contact Alice.
“Sorry. It’s been pretty hectic around here, with all the renovations going on, and I had some family things this weekend.”
“I see.”
“We celebrated my sister’s thirtieth birthday.” The last thing he needed was for Alice to feel snubbed.
“That’s nice,” she said, without sounding as though she meant it. “I’m calling to see if you’ve filled out those entry forms yet.”
“Not yet. Like I said, we’ve been busy.”
“The entry deadline is next week. We don’t have much time.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I appreciate you thinking of the girls, but I’ve decided not to enter them. It’s just not right for us.” He stopped talking before he added that there was no way in hell his daughters were being paraded around in public like a pair of little divas.
There was a long silence. “I wish you’d said something sooner. I had those head shots taken. Their dresses have been picked out.”
He held the phone away from his ear and stared at it for a few seconds. No one asked you to do any of those things. “I’m sorry you went to all that effort. Next time something comes up, I won’t take so long to make a decision.”
“Fine.” Her tone implied she was anything but. “What are the girls doing this morning? Can I talk to them?”
“Sorry, Alice. They’re not here. My parents picked them up half an hour ago. They’re spending the day at the zoo.”
“Oh. All right, then.” As usual, she didn’t mind letting him know she was disappointed.
“We’ll call you before bedtime so they can say good-night.”
“That gives me and Fred something to look forward to.”
If Fred had ever had an opinion about anything, the poor man had given up expressing it years ago. Now he wouldn’t dare look forward to something unless his wife told him to.
“Great. We’ll talk to you then.”
He set the phone on the counter, then let out a whoop and punched the air. He’d done it! Kristi would be so proud of him. He’d stood up to Alice, said no to the pageant, and it had been way easier than he ever would have imagined. Why hadn’t he done this a long time ago? He knew the answer.
Half an hour after saying goodbye to Heather for the last time, he’d stood in the hospital corridor with Alice and Fred. He had probably been exhausted, no doubt worried as hell about how his future as a single father would unfold, but all he remembered about that day was the overwhelming numbness.
And then there was Alice, in his face, her emotions raw and roiling on the surface.
“How could you do this to her? My daughter would still be alive if it weren’t for those babies.”
Those babies—his two innocent darling girls, the loves of his and Heather’s lives—were with his family. Unbeknownst to them, their lives had changed forever, and now they had a grandmother who resented their very existence. And since their existence was his doing, she resented him, too. He had a vague recollection of Fred hovering silently in the background, saying nothing as always. He’d had little more than disdain for his father-in-law in those early days after Heather died. Now he sympathized with the man.
Heather had been their only child, and when she was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes at age seven, keeping her healthy had become Alice’s sole purpose in life. Not long after he and Heather met, she had described how her mother had become overprotective, constantly worrying and monitoring her blood sugar, preventing her from doing many of the things kids did—having dinner at a friend’s house, going to sleepovers, even playing sports. Heather had been strong-willed and determined, and she had rebelled. To some degree, her rebellion led to complications, and by the time she was in her late teens she’d had a kidney removed.
Having a baby would be risky—she’d known that—and when they did find out the twins were on the way, Alice had wanted the pregnancy terminated. Heather dug in her heels and insisted
on going through with it, and Nate had been caught in the middle, not knowing whose side to be on, not wanting to have to choose.
Although they hadn’t planned to have a family—hell, they hadn’t even planned to get married at that point—he’d always assumed he’d have one someday. A career, a wife, a house, a couple of kids, a dog…that’s what he’d grown up expecting to have.
He’d felt trapped and guilty and that guilt had been compounded by his mother-in-law after Heather’s death. But then a month after the funeral she’d rung his doorbell and insinuated herself back into Nate’s and his daughters’ lives. There had been no explanation, no apology, and she’d been around ever since, lavishing the girls with expensive gifts and sending him on a guilt trip every chance she got.
Today, after two years, he’d finally put a stop to it. He couldn’t wait to tell Kristi. He sat down at his computer, but instead he was thinking about all the ways he’d like to thank her.
* * *
KRISTI DASHED INTO the coffee shop and joined Sam and Claire at their usual table in the back corner. “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re always late,” Sam said. She was dressed in her usual blue jeans and work shirt, and her coffee cup was already half-empty.
“Funny. I meant later than usual. I can’t seem to get—”
“Organized?” Claire asked. Her navy jacket over a crisp white blouse suggested she’d be showing properties to prospective buyers that morning.
“Also funny. I was going to say focused.”
Sam and Claire exchanged a look.
“Don’t start,” Kristi said. “This has nothing to do with Nate.” They wouldn’t believe her, and why should they when she couldn’t even convince herself?
“We’ll talk about that later.” Claire ran a finger across her iPad screen and perused her list. “Let’s get started.”
