Challenged by You: A Fusion Universe Novel

by Tracey Jerald

  “You’re welcome anytime after eight, Mrs. McPhearson.”

  She beams, causing a million little wrinkles to appear in her face. I feel like kissing each and every one. She nods at Jonas, who’s been silently leaning against the doorjamb. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rice. I enjoy your column when I read it in City Lights.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine, Mrs. McPhearson.” He lifts a hand in her direction.

  “Is there any special food you need me to buy for your home, Mrs. McPhearson? Anything you need me to send the children over in, toys you want me to bring…” A million questions fumble out of my mouth.

  “Oh, dear. I suppose I should have asked if you minded if I watch them here.” My eyes bug out at her softly spoken words. She shakes her head. “I generally prefer to let children be in their own environment at this age; it offers them a sense of comfort.”

  “But I don’t have a television,” I blurt out.

  She shrugs, indifferent. “That’s why I have two hands to knit. And if that ever gets boring, I have an e-reader. Trust me,” she confides. “It’s like a little soap opera in your mind.” And much to my surprise, Mrs. McPhearson giggles. And that simple act settles the last nerves inside of me because I can’t remember the last time my mother laughed.

  Holding out my hand, I thank her profusely. “You’ve lifted an enormous burden from my shoulders.”

  “And what a lovely way to end an evening.” Beaming, we exchange goodbyes before I close and lock the door behind her and just lean against it with my eyes closed.

  I feel him, sense him, before I open my eyes. Looping my arms around his neck, I say, “All my life I put stock in what she said.”

  “Well, it’s time to stop letting your mother—a woman who leaves a foul aftertaste on my palate—make you think any of you are less than what you are.”

  I hesitate a heartbeat before asking, “What’s that?”

  “I could give you a thousand flowery words, but the reality is you’ve created a loving family. And she doesn’t get to be the morality police, dismiss someone you engaged to spend the night with your children, and judge you, Trina. That’s not right.” Jonas tips his head back and swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion.

  “I always hoped…”

  “What, that you’d change her mind?” Jonas leans forward and captures my hands before continuing. “Trina, you’re beautiful, successful, a fantastic mother, and well respected. In other words, you’re everything she’s hungered her whole life to be.” He falls quiet while I absorb his words.

  Finally it dawns on me what he’s saying. “You think she’s jealous of me?” I ask, incredulous.

  “I don’t just think it. I think she’s done her damnedest to provoke you because then your life is no better than hers is. God forbid if you manage to succeed where she hasn’t.”

  “But, why?”

  “Because you refused to settle for second best.” Jonas scoffs. “I’m in your arms because you demand more from not just me, but everyone around you. You’re not selfish, anything but. And when your back is against the wall, you rise to every challenge you’re faced with. You constantly intrigue me—more so now. On top of which, you’re waffly cute.”

  Jonas’s words warm me from the inside out. His arms are squeezing me so tightly, I have no option but to lean forward to impress my point on him. “I don’t want you to think I’m using you,” I confess.

  “Using me? I’m looking for all the ways I can ingrain myself in your life. I’m worried the clock is ticking and when our time’s up, all that’s going to be left is you dashing off and I’ll be left behind.” His forehead touches mine.

  I rear back. “That would be—”

  “What?” His voice is cautious.

  “Improbable. Ridiculous. You’re the man with the words. What one would you select?” I tease him.

  “Relieving,” he counters immediately. “It’s nice to know you’ll accept help.”

  “Help, yes, a handout…it’s not in me, Jonas.”

  “And that’s one of the many things I admire about you.”

  A smile twitches. “Want to name a few others?”

  A gleam enters his eyes. “Just like a woman—give her one compliment and she wants more.”

  I jerk my fists from behind his back and whack him. He wrenches my hands up above my head and tugs me toward him. He leans against my body, aligning us as if we were still in his bed. Both of our breath whooshes out as he does. “I’m scrambled over your eggs,” he informs me with complete seriousness.

  To prevent the tears threatening from falling, I flippantly remark, “And here I thought you were going to admire the fact I managed to not have as many stretch marks as I feared.”

  Somber as a judge, he tells me, “I hate to break it to you, but…”

  “You fiend!” I laugh.

  Banding an arm around my waist, he whispers, “I hope you look back on today as the perfect beginning it was supposed to be.” Passing his hand over my jaw, his eyes roam my face.

  “I used to be so ashamed of where I came from. I wanted nothing but to escape, to stop the cycle for Annie and Chris.” My confession brings about a change in Jonas’s face. His eyes crinkle in the corners, and his lips part.

  “Maybe you’re not the only one who’s been trying to figure out where they belonged.” Flipping me around so his back is against the door, Jonas presses his lips to mine gently before lifting his head.

  “I need to go,” he says softly. Pain lances through me. I’m not sure what shows on my face, but before I can speak, he gets back in my space.

  I put a hand against his chest and say quickly, “Thank you for today—” but he cuts me off.

  “You don’t understand.” Lifting my hand, he presses the palm. “But you will. I have some business calls to make.”

  “Oh.” Crap. I’ve been so absorbed in my own drama, I forgot Jonas has a column to write. As I unlock the dead bolts, I tell him honestly, “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

  You would have thought I just handed him a perfectly baked dessert. His face lights up before determination sets in. “That’s because I’m a real pizza work.” I groan at his parting food pun as he crosses the threshold. “I’ll text you later, Trina.”

  “Bye, Jonas.” I wait until the elevator arrives and he steps on. Once he does, I close the door and flip all the locks. I give myself a few moments to luxuriate in the memories of last night and today before I push myself away from the door. Unfortunately, I have laundry to fold and a best friend to call, neither of which I’m looking forward to.

  Very unlike the tingling feelings hearing from Jonas later is causing in me. Making certain the kids are still asleep, I allow myself one quick jump in the air because there’s only one other person I could share it with, and right now I have to find out first why she left my children with my mother.

  And by the time that conversation is over, I might not be in such a sharing mood, I think dourly as I make my way to the storage closet where I stashed the mountain of laundry.

  Chapter 21

  Trina

  The key in the lock doesn’t distract me from sliding freshly cooked pancakes off the square griddle pan since I know who’s at the door. And while I’d like nothing more than to finish our conversation to make sure she’s okay, feeding Annie and Chris come first. My children are leering at me like a pack of hungry wolves with their prey in sights as the smell of pancakes fills the air. I’m given a short reprieve from all the emotions flowing through me when Elle bursts through the door with red-rimmed eyes.

  “Aunt Elle!” They race over to her. “Grandma said you were sick?” Leaning in the doorway, I see her bend over to hug my kids, increasing my guilt by tenfold.

  Elle wheezes out, “You know how I’m allergic to bunches of things?”

  Once Elle got a word in to tell me what happened, guilt has been clawing my insides until I’m left raw. Now, seeing her, I’m irrational with the need to make
amends for the way I launched into her when she first answered her phone earlier. “Elle…” I move the gate away to get closer to my best friend “Annie, Chris, leave Aunt Elle alone. She may still be in a lot of pain.”

  Immediately, my kids each lean forward to kiss the nearest body part they can reach which for Annie is a knee, Chris a hand. “Why didn’t you call me last night?” I wail, feeling like a failure of a friend.

  “Because your night was special. Your first date in two years?” she argues in her now raspy voice, the crazy lunatic. “Please. I wasn’t interrupting that except for certain death. And…”

  “And it would have been just as spectacular even if it had to be postponed a few more days or weeks,” I pull her tight against me. “I’m so sorry I yelled at you before I understood.”

  “Shh. If I’d have come home to your mother saying what she did… Well, we don’t need little ears hearing bad things, do we?” She fakes a bright smile.

  “Nono here, Elle,” Chris declares triumphantly.

  “Is he, Chris?” Elle purrs. Her violet eyes shine. “Where is Jonas?”

  “He’s not here right now,” I correct, blushing. “He left just after I finished interviewing Mrs. McPhearson.”

  “Your next-door neighbor? For what?” Elle’s confusion is evident.

  “Oh, Elle. That’s a long story. Let me get the kids fed first.”

  “Can I help?” Hope and a touch of wariness war on her face. “I’m sorry, T. I never meant…”

  “Stop apologizing. It was a series of events that led to some welcome changes. But now’s not the time to discuss them.” I stare pointedly down at my children, who are now racing around us in a circle. “Right now, it’s time to eat.”

  As he tries to pass by, I swing Chris up in my arms. He squeals in glee as I make my way into the kitchen when I hear Elle say, “Anything except peaches. I don’t need another anaphylactic reaction.”

  “I promise. This is a peach-free zone.”

  “Except in the fruit compote your lover brought over for the ice cream,” Elle laughs. “Maybe he’s just trying to off me to get that number one slot in your heart.”

  I freeze in the act of plopping Chris in the high chair. “Didn’t you read the label?”

  “I did. It didn’t mention anything about peaches, but it looked like a local distributor.”

  “So, cross-contamination,” I surmise.

  “Likely. Which sucks because it was fabulous on top of the ice cream. Now, you can make up for it by telling me how your evening went.”

  I frown at the pancakes at the table. “What do you want to eat? You shouldn’t be eating something this solid yet, should you? Off the top of my head, there’s the rest of the ice cream, yogurt, or applesauce?” Though listing the last item causes my heart to ache a little after knowing about Jonas’s feelings about apples.

  “Gimme the ice cream, babe. I like s-h-o-t-s about as much as these two. I deserve to be pampered.”

  “Deal.” I reach into the freezer and grab out the tub of vanilla and a spoon. Plopping both in front of Elle, I scoop up Annie, who immediately reaches for the sweet treat in front of her godmother. “Pancakes first,” I tell my daughter firmly.

  “Ice cweam,” she demands.

  “Yeah,” Chris agrees. “Ice cweam!” He throws his plastic spork down to show me his opinion. Pointing to me he says, “Bad Mommy,” before he bats his lashes at Elle. “Pretty.”

  I open and close my mouth before counting to ten. I wasn’t lying to Jonas last night when I said there were some days when the challenges of parenting made you want to scream. Today, I feel like I’ve been sliced, diced, chopped, and deep-fried, and I’m only at dinner. Finally regaining my control, I give my children two options. Not that they understand the ramifications of what I’m saying, but more the firm tone I’m using. “You can have your ice cream with the pancakes as part of your dinner, but there will be no dessert before bath, or you can have it after we eat. Regardless of which choice you make, if you throw a fuss, there will be no park tomorrow with Mrs. McPhearson. You have to decide—together.”

  “I love how you do this.” Elle’s enthralled as the twins babble for a moment before she speaks in the eerie silence.

  “What?”

  “They’re so young, but you include them in decisions.”

  “They’re going to have to deal with the consequences regardless, so they need to be a part of the process, right?”

  Annie, who instigated the issue, resolves it by picking up her fork and putting a bite of pancake into her mouth. Chris follows suit. I shrug knowing this little squall has passed.

  Later, after the kids have had dessert—ice cream, of course—and their bath, Elle and I are drinking warm herbal tea cuddled on my bed. “I’d like to make it up to the two of you,” she volunteers.

  I snort. “You made the wrong decision by not calling me, but the best decision you could. Get over yourself, Bruder.”

  Her head drops to my shoulder. “I’ve waited years for you to have this moment. After Erik and Will, I jumped right back into the saddle of dating. I didn’t have—don’t have—the responsibilities you have. And then for them to try to take custody of your children?”

  The white-hot fury that used to lick at my soul when we’d touch on the subject of our exes just isn’t there. “Maybe when you’re being shoved down a path you never want to travel, you’re just being prepared for the better way of life.”

  “Excuse me?” Elle shifts back.

  “I mean think about it. If I hadn’t moved back to New York, I never would have started working at Seduction. I certainly would never have met Jonas. Would I ever have had that confrontation with my mother?”

  “Stupid twat” is all Elle says. I can’t help but grin. “I can only be grateful they didn’t require licenses for motherhood or I wouldn’t have you in my life. And I need you. Beyond that, bah!”

  At the end of a day that began beneath the twinkling lights unveiling the truth of desire, bringing me full circle amid a sense of pain, I never thought I would feel so free. Yes, there’s a never-ending sadness I’ll never quite recover from over the confrontation with my mother, but there’s also the relief in exposing my feelings rather than pretending any longer. “You don’t owe either of us a thing, Elle. If it hadn’t been for the sequence of events unfolding, I never would have realized Mrs. McPhearson is a professional sitter. Life has a funny way of giving us what we need when we need it, doesn’t it?”

  Before she can answer, my phone pings with a text. Reaching up on the shelf, I see it’s from Jonas. “Probably checking in. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all,” she drawls, scooting closer. “You realize I’m going to read everything he says.”

  “Likely ’cause if I didn’t let you, you’d just unlock my phone when I went to pee.”

  “Well, there is that,” she agrees.

  I grin, but I open my phone and read. Then I frown in concentration.

  Did your new stroller come in yet?

  “Hmm, is this the kind of sexy talk you two got off on last night? Hardly my cup of tea, but hey, whatever works.” Enunciating her point, Elle takes a long sip of her cooling drink.

  “Not hardly,” I drawl as my thumbs fly over the keyboard. No, they sent it back again since Mom wasn’t at my apartment. Why?

  How do you feel about an almost mint condition stroller that’s used. I can vouch for the seller.

  Suddenly pictures of a woman with long dark hair holding a newborn and two little boys appears on my screen. My heart melts. Is that Chelsea? She’s beautiful.

  It is. That was taken by her husband right before he had to go back to his job overseas. But she needs a triple now. She was going to list her stroller online. What were you going to spend on your new one?

  Realizing Jonas is completely serious, I ignore the faces of his serene cousin and her adorable family. Then I gasp. “Holy crap! That’s the Cadillac of strollers. There’s no way…”

&nbs
p; “What? Once you started talking baby shit and not sexting, I kinda tuned out,” Elle admits. She leans over my shoulder to catch up. “Can you scroll up? Who’s the family?”

  “Hold on. You weren’t paying attention.” My fingers are flying. Jonas, that’s sweet, but that stroller retails for more than double what I was planning on spending. There’s no way I can take that from your cousin. Thank you, but no.

  There’s blue dots that go before they stop. Then my phone rings with a number I don’t recognize. Something inside me tells me to take the call.

  Pressing Accept, I answer warily, “Hello?”

  “Trina, it’s Chelsea Parker, Jonas’s cousin. Honey, you’d be doing me a huge favor if you took this thing out of my condo. I was only going to ask $250 for it—Ian and Scott have had enough bodily incidents on the material that I feel guilty even asking for that.” Quickly she adds, “I did have the stroller cleaned though. Trust me, there’s no more slime, grime, or boy ick anywhere on it.”

  Doing some rapid calculations, I realize I actually can afford the new stroller if dip into savings. Going on instinct which seems to have worked well so far today, I accept. “Then yes. Thank you so much.”

  Her gentle laugh rings in my ears. “Do you want to know anything about it? The color? Features?”

  “Honestly, Ms. Parker, your cousin wouldn’t have given you my number if he didn’t think the stroller was safe for my children. And that’s my top priority above all.”

  “Make it Chelsea.” Her comeback is immediate. “Somehow, I suspect we’re going to get to know each other really well, Trina.”

  I reach out and grab Elle’s hand. “That sounds wonderful.”

  “As for payment, why don’t I just give the stroller to him? He can pass along your payment the same way? This way you don’t have to worry about adjusting your work schedule. I’ve heard you work at Seduction. “

  “I’m surprised Jonas shared that.”