“I don’t want to go to my room!” she yelled, this time at Emma. Then she picked up the game board and flung it across the room, scattering pieces all over the ground. Wow. Dr. Jekyll had suddenly become Mr. Hyde.
“Adelynn, you can either choose to spend a few minutes in your room right now, or you can choose to go to bed early and miss the movie and the sleepover. Your choice.”
Her face crumpled. “But I don’t want to miss the movie and the sleepover.” Tears welled up in her beautiful dark eyes, but Emma refused to give in.
“Then I suggest you go to your room.”
“I want my daddy! He never makes me go to my room!” She balled her little fingers into fists, flashed a defiant look at Emma, and stormed down the hall.
Emma sighed and collapsed on the couch, completely worn out. This day wasn’t ending at all like she’d anticipated. Kajsa came to kneel on the couch beside her and rested her head on Emma’s lap. “I miss Daddy, too,” she said, her voice quiet and sad.
The words broke Emma’s heart, and she pulled Kajsa into a hug. “I know. Me too.”
“How much longer?”
Emma brushed at the strands of hair around Kajsa’s face. “He’s coming for Thanksgiving, remember? That’s not far away at all. Only a few weeks. And you and me and Adi—we’re strong. We can make it until then, right?”
“Sometimes I don’t feel strong.”
Emma had that same thought often, but it sounded way too grown up coming from a little girl. She continued to run her fingers through Kajsa’s soft brown hair as she tried to think of the right words. “You don’t always have to feel strong to be strong, did you know that?”
Kajsa shook her head, clearly not understanding.
“Kajsa, honey, you’re the strongest six-year-old I know. Even though your daddy’s far away and your mom’s in heaven, you wake up every morning with a smile on your face. You go to school, you work hard, you play harder, and you find happy things in life even when there’s so much to be sad about. But it’s okay to be sad sometimes and think about what we don’t have—like your daddy—because everyone gets sad sometimes. But you’re too strong of a girl to let that keep you down all the time. Does that make more sense?”
Kajsa nodded. “I’ll be happy again tomorrow. I promise. I just don’t like it when Adi’s mad at me.”
“Me neither.” Emma smiled. “Do you think she’s cooled off yet? I’m thinking that she might need to hear that she’s strong too.”
Kajsa perked up, her head bobbing up and down once again.
“And maybe my two strong little girls can eat the dinner I made and get even stronger. Then we can make some popcorn to go with our mud pie.”
The corners of Kajsa’s mouth tugged into a smile. “Can we take the pie to Uncle Kevin instead? We could go right now.”
Both strong and sweet. That was Kajsa. Emma hated to disappoint her again. “He’s busy tonight, so maybe we can take it to him tomorrow instead.”
“But you said it tastes better fresh.”
Strong, sweet, and smart. Emma touched a finger to Kajsa’s nose. “It does taste better fresh, smarty-pants, but that’s what he gets for ditching us tonight, right? Maybe we should add some worms to it too.”
A giggle escaped Kajsa’s mouth, and Emma grabbed her hand, pulling her up. “C’mon, let’s go see if we can make Adi giggle, too.”
“Almost ready, girls,” Emma called as she donned her favorite old flannel PJs and wrapped a towel around her wet hair turban-like. “Do you have your pillows and blankets all spread out?” Kajsa and Adelynn had been instructed to get the family room all ready for the movie and sleepover by gathering as many pillows and blankets as they could find.
When they didn’t respond, Emma called out again, louder this time. “Girls? I’m all ready. Are you?”
Again, nothing. The silence felt almost eerie. Even when they were trying to not be found, they could never be this quiet.
Emma peeked down the hall, then into their room. Empty. Their bed was devoid of all pillows and blankets, so they had to be somewhere. “Kajsa? Adi? Don’t mess with me or we won’t have time to watch the movie.” Emma walked into the front room, noting that the girls had done their job well. The floor was covered in blankets and pillows. But still, no girls. Where were they?
A chilly breeze prickled Emma’s skin, and she glanced toward the front door, which was cracked open. What in the world? Emma rushed forward and flung it wide. “Adelynn! Kajsa! Where are you?” she yelled, straining to see any movement in the darkness. No lights were on at Becky’s so they couldn’t have gone there. That left only one other option.
Emma’s gaze moved to Kevin’s house, where that unfamiliar black car still sat in the driveway. Light spilled from his front window, indicating that he was home. Oh no. Had the girls seen that? Was that where they’d gone? There was a very good chance that Kajsa’s big heart wouldn’t stand for Kevin getting day-old mud pie. Emma ran to the fridge, where, sure enough, the shelf that once held the mud pie was now empty. The girls had obviously taken it upon themselves to deliver it.
Kajsa! You are in so much trouble! Emma closed the fridge and pulled the towel from her hair, dropping it on the couch as she headed outside. Her fingers frantically raked through the wet locks as she crossed the lawn towards Kevin’s house.
At his front door, Emma raised her hand, took a deep breath, and knocked. Only then did she hear giggles coming from shaking bushes at the side of the house. To her horror, both Kajsa and Adelynn jumped out and raced back toward their house. Before Emma could follow their lead, Kevin’s front door opened, revealing a middle-aged woman with dark hair who looked a lot like Kevin. She was carrying Emma’s mud pie.
The woman looked her up and down before lifting an eyebrow in question.
Emma glanced back at her house—at freedom—and watched as the girls disappeared inside and shut the door. Oh, they were going to get it. How could they do this to her? She turned her attention back to the woman, frantically racking her brain for a non-crazy reason she’d be standing on Kevin’s front porch with wet hair and in her PJs. “I, uh, just wanted to… uh… make sure that, uh…” That what? The mud pie got delivered safely? How lame did that sound? “That everyone’s okay.” she finished.
“And why wouldn’t we be okay?” said the woman, looking confused. “Did something happen?”
Oh, geez. How did Emma get herself into situations like this? “No, it’s just that… I, uh, saw two suspicious looking people hiding in your bushes, so, you know, I thought I’d check.” Emma forced her mouth into a smile. “Neighborhood watch and all that.”
The woman continued to watch Emma in confusion. She opened her mouth to say something when Kevin came up behind the woman. “Emma? What are you doing here?”
Great. She should have fled like the girls had done. In hindsight, she could see that now.
“She saw some suspicious people hiding in your bushes and wanted to make sure we were okay,” the woman unhelpfully replied.
Kevin leaned forward and glanced outside. “Suspicious people? Where?”
“I believe she’s talking about the people who left this on your doorstep.” The woman held up the pie for Kevin to see.
Emma stifled the urge to roll her eyes. She’d made that pie as a gesture of kindness—to show Kevin she’d been joking about not having enough popcorn for him. But now, it had all backfired. It wasn’t right.
Kevin glanced from the pie to Emma. “Did you make this for me?”
She was tempted to deny everything, but that would only lead to more trouble, since, really, who else would have made him a mud pie? “Yes, but I didn’t deliver it.” Emma gestured down at her ensemble. “In case you couldn’t tell, I’d planned to stay in tonight, but Kajsa and Adelynn had other ideas.”
“What do you mean? They delivered it?”
“That’s right.”
“And are they also the suspicious people you were referring to?” The way Kevin said
it made Emma feel like she belonged in the crazy house. Come to think of it, as long as Kajsa and Adi were under her roof, she did live in a crazy house.
Emma let out a breath. “I was taking a shower, okay? They were supposed to be getting the front room ready for our movie night, but when I came out, they were gone. I thought they’d come here, so I knocked and out they jumped from the bushes, leaving me here looking like an idiot. I honestly didn’t mean to barge in on you like this, especially when I knew you had other things going on.”
“Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?” Kevin asked.
“Because…” She threw up her hands. “I really have no idea. Can I plead the Fifth on that one?”
The woman looked from Kevin to Emma, then took a step forward and held out her hand. “Since my son seems to have forgotten his manners, let me introduce myself. I’m Victoria Grantham. Kevin’s mother.”
“Good to meet you.” Emma shook Victoria’s hand slowly as she tried to put two and two together. His mother was in town? Why hadn’t Kevin just told her that in the first place? Why all the mysterious something-came-up mumbo jumbo? A simple “Mom’s in town. Can’t come tonight.” would have done the job just fine. Instead, he’d made Emma feel like he was keeping something from her on purpose. Something he didn’t want her to know. But why?
There was really only one explanation. He didn’t want them to meet.
The thought settled in Emma’s mind like a migraine.
“And you are…?” Victoria coached, still holding Emma’s hand.
“Emma,” she said. “Emma Mackie.”
Why wasn’t Kevin saying anything? Why did he look so uncomfortable and tense and… guilty even? Where was the guy who’d texted her all those sweet notes? Who’d said he couldn’t wait to see her again? Who’d kissed her and held her and made her feel like she was something special?
Right now, Emma felt the opposite of special. She felt like an intruder.
Swallowing a yucky-tasting lump in her throat, Emma forced a smile. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Victoria, and I’m so sorry I bothered you. I hope you enjoy your time with your son.” Without sparing Kevin another glance, Emma did what she should have done to begin with—ran away.
“Emma, wait,” Kevin called, coming after her. His hand caught her arm, and he stepped in front of her, blocking her escape.
Tears threatened to spill, but Emma refused to let him see how much he’d hurt her. She lifted her chin defiantly. “Did you need something? A spoon to go with your pie, maybe?”
He grimaced, then flashed a glance at Victoria. “Could you give us a few minutes, Mother?”
She nodded and walked inside, pie still in hand, and shut the door behind her.
Kevin turned back to Emma. “The reason I didn’t tell you about her is not the reason you’re thinking.”
“What am I thinking?” Emma asked. This ought to be good.
“You’re thinking that I didn’t want her to meet you. But that’s not it at all. It’s because I didn’t want you to meet her.”
Emma blinked, trying to understand the differences between those two sentences and how one could be better than the other. “Why, exactly, didn’t you want me to meet her?”
“Because you’re—” Kevin stopped himself, then winced.
“I’m what?” Her voice raised a notch. Why wouldn’t he just say what he was thinking?
“Too nice,” he finally said.
Too nice? What? “What’s that supposed to mean? Your mom only likes mean people?”
“No.” His fingers raked through his hair as he took a few steps forward then circled back around. Finally, he stopped and jabbed a finger toward his house. “If I take you back inside and let you have a real conversation with my mother, she’ll smile, talk, and ask you question after question, acting like she really likes you and is happy you’re dating her only son. But ultimately, you’ll walk away feeling like you’re nowhere near good enough for me. I don’t want that to happen, okay?”
His words only served to churn her anger. “So I’m not good enough for you?”
“No,” said Kevin. “That’s what she would say—I mean, not directly, but she’d imply it in her subtle way.”
“Why would she think I’m not good enough? She doesn’t even know me.”
“She knows some things,” he finally muttered.
“What things?”
Kevin let out an exasperated groan. “Emma can we please not go into this?”
“What. Things. Kevin?”
He tried to reach for her again, but Emma dodged his hand. She looked him straight in the eye, daring him to tell the truth. He finally sighed. “She called right after you moved in—before I got to know you—so all she knows is what my opinion of you was then. We were just about to sit down to dinner, and I was going to straighten her out—before I let you meet her.
“Let me meet her?”
“You know what I meant,” he groaned. “Listen, Emma, you don’t know my mom. She sees me with one type of woman, and you’re—” Again, he cut himself off. He might have even cursed under his breath, Emma wasn’t sure. But she did know how that sentence would have ended.
“Not it?”
“Well… yeah.” He looked worried, as though she’d take that the wrong way. Which she did.
Emma took a step closer and clenched her fists. “Tell me this, Kevin. If you were still dating Nicole¸ would you have felt the need to prep your mother before introducing her?”
“I’m not dating Nicole, I’m dating you.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Kevin glared back at her, and Emma could tell she was beginning to make him angry as well. “No, all right?” he finally said. “Nicole is a successful lawyer who comes from a successful family. She’s the type of person my mom wants me to marry.”
Emma felt her body start to tremble. “Whereas I’m a starving artist who has set her sight way too high.”
His eyes caught and held hers in a hard stare. “That’s what my mother thinks—not me. This is exactly why I didn’t want you to meet her.”
“I thought you didn’t want her to meet me.” Emma held on tight to her anger. It was the only thing keeping her from breaking down. “Did it ever occur to you, Kevin, that I can stand up for myself? That I could have handled your mother’s subtle insults? Or, that she might even like me when she got to know me? How weak and pathetic do you think I am?”
“You’re everything but weak and pathetic.”
“You’re right about that.” She glared at him, then strode back to his front door, where she knocked again. Only this time, she didn’t care that she was dressed in PJs or that her hair was wet. She didn’t care about anything.
His mother opened the door, still holding the pie, which told Emma they’d probably had an audience.
“Yes?” she asked.
“I’d like my pie back, if you don’t mind.”
She handed it over, looking bewildered.
“Thank you.” Pie in hand, Emma stalked back to Kevin and pressed it into his face. Using her pajama pants as a napkin, she wiped the lingering whip cream from her fingers and walked home. It wasn’t until halfway through Tinkerbell, when Kajsa and Adelynn had finally drifted off to sleep, that she let go of the anger and allowed the tears to fall.
The smell of shampoo mixed with steam lingered in the air as Kevin rubbed his hair dry with a towel. He’d taken so long in the shower that the water ran cold, and his mirror was so fogged up he couldn’t see his reflection. He grabbed a hand towel and wiped it across the glass, revealing a clean, slightly foggy face—one that looked as miserable as he felt.
The conversation with Emma had gone from bad to worse. And now, not only did he have to figure out a way to undo the damage that was done, he also had to find a way to explain that whole scene to his mother. He could only imagine what she thought of Emma now.
He took his time changing before he found her relaxing on his couch, f
lipping through a cooking magazine.
“This chicken Marsala looks good, doesn’t it? Maybe we could make it for dinner tomorrow night.”
Kevin sat down next to her and rested his elbows on his knees. He turned to face her. “How come you stopped making mud pie?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You used to make it all the time when I was a kid. Cookies, cakes, and brownies, too, if I remember right. But then Dad decided to run for public office, and things started to change.”
She set down the magazine and clasped her fingers around her crossed knees. “I was trying to be healthier. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” said Kevin. “I’m just curious as to why you suddenly became concerned with health as soon as Dad announced his intention to run for the senate.”
His mother shrugged. “He and I had both gained some weight over the years, and I thought it would reflect poorly on his image. So we made some lifestyle changes. You make it sound like it was a bad thing.”
It wasn’t a bad thing. What Kevin had a problem with was the reason behind those changes and the importance his mother placed on image—the importance that Kevin realized he’d been placing on image. From the get-go, he’d fought his attraction to Emma because of that. Even after he’d gotten to know her, he’d still let Janice and his mother give him reason to doubt.
And now he might lose her because of it.
His mother’s hand came to rest on his knee. “You obviously have feelings for that girl, and I’m sorry you developed them before you realized her true nature. But be grateful you saw it now instead of later.”
Kevin flashed his mother a look. “I have no intention of letting Emma walk out of my life now or ever. I love her.”
Her eyes widened briefly before that serene, unemotional smile came back. “It’s never a good thing to act rashly. If you give it more time and thought, I’m sure you’ll see reason. Do you really want to be with someone who is okay with making a scene like that in your front yard? Anyone on your street could have seen that.”
[Meet Your Match 01.0] Prejudice Meets Pride Page 19
