The competitor in James took a big beating, especially when Ryan glanced up at him over a shoulder. “Can we go again?”
James sighed. “We’ve only got an hour. Wouldn’t you prefer something else, simpler, maybe?”
Ryan’s reply was uncomplicated and uncompromising. “No.”
Stymied, James counted out more tokens. This time he gave them to Ryan to insert. Five minutes later, Ryan had again lost all four lives, but they made it halfway through the Desert Rally course. Only because there are fewer things to hit, the teen thought morosely.
Inevitably Ryan asked, “Again?”
So they did it again. This time James convinced Ryan to let him “help” steer.
Twenty minutes later, they made it through the course, dead last.
James looked at his watch. At least we made it, he allowed with a half smile. “Time’s up. Let’s go find our moms,” he said, a little too cheerfully. Pushing the boy from his lap, James stood and stretched. Bending over to rub the cramp in his left calf, James was startled to feel arms around his throat.
“Thanks, I had fun,” Ryan squealed directly into James’ left ear.
“Hey!” He rubbed his ear to ease the ringing in his eardrum. “Yeah, yeah.
You’re welcome.” He stuck out his hand, and Ryan put his small one into it. “Let’s go.”
Standing at the edge of the gym’s main room, James scanned the room for his mother. Constructed in faux rock, three climbing walls stood against the far wall. He spotted his mother and Ms. Hyland on the right two, apparently in a race to the top. His mother climbed steadily up the middle. Thomas stood at the bottom and to her right, under the blond woman, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting encouragement. James could not tell who was ahead. He sent a bit of a wish toward his mother.
The women neared the top, both finding their handholds efficiently. In the end, due to James’ wishes perhaps, his mother topped the edge first. She smacked the sensor, triggering the light and buzzer a full second ahead of the taller, younger woman. James applauded madly, then grabbed Ryan’s hand and dragged the boy over to the walls. He continued cheering as his mother switched to the slide lead and quickly returned to the floor, bouncing once on her feet before turning around.
She pulled off the green bit of fabric she had used to tie her hair back, and the tresses promptly fell to surround her face, which was lit with high color. Sweating profusely, she was laughing as she caught her breath. Thomas slapped her on the back once, then turned to spot for Ms. Hyland as she began her slide down the wall face.
Ms. Hyland landed beside their mother and offered her a high-five before turnŹing to Thomas. James’ brother clasped her hand and whooped, making both women laugh. “You’ll need a few more lessons to beat Mom,” Thomas said. “However, I’m game if you are.”
“Colluding against me?” their mother said. “My own son? Shame on you.” She wrapped an arm around his neck. “Now where’s my towel. God, I need water.”
Laughing, Ms. Hyland walked over to a bench and fetched both their towels and gym bags. She scooped out a bottle of water. Her own skin shiny with sweat, she took a healthy chug herself before passing it over. “I’ll get the right pace eventually,” she warned.
“You can’t beat me at handball. I’ll stay ahead of you here, too.” Brenna laughed.
James was surprised when she popped her towel at the other woman, making her jump backward.
“I have to point out, kindly,” the younger woman teased back, “that that is scripted. This is not. Your days are numbered,” she countered, accepting the return of the water bottle and tossing back another swallow.
The women fell silent, sharing big smiles, then realized the boys were staring at them.
“Shower?”
“Yeah.” Ms. Hyland flipped her hair free of the ponytail tie and looked at ThoŹmas. “We’ll be out soon. Watch Ryan for a few minutes?”
“Sure thing,” Thomas replied. He offered his hand; she shook it. “You really did great today.”
“I had a great teacher.” She flashed him a toothsome smile and brushed his shoulder lightly before following their mother into the locker room.
“Well, let’s go sit and wait,” James sighed.
“You’re right. It’ll probably be ten, fifteen minutes. Want to go to the Game Room?”
“Yes!” Ryan pumped his fist In the air.
“No!” James objected. Thomas shot his brother a questioning look. “I Just spent the whole hour in there with him,” James said defensively.
Thomas held out his hand. “Well then, give me the tokens. I’ll take him.”
“You just want to keep on his mother’s good side,” James said crossly, handing over the tokens.
“What is it with you? That night at the campsite did Cass and Ryan poke you in the ass or something?”
“No.” James subsided with a pout, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets. “Fine. Let’s just go.”
“Come on, I’m your brother. Tell me what’s up.”
“Have you ever seen Mom act like this?”
“Far too rarely.”
“What is it with that woman that’s got you so nuts and Mom acting like last year never happened?”
“They’ve obviously worked things out. Shoot, you should be happy. Mom’s got few enough close friends as it is. Most of them are back in Michigan. At least now she’s got someone she can joke around with, do fun stuff.”
“But things don’t just go away like…that.” James snapped his fingers.
“Maybe it’s something on the set. They decided to bury the hatchet in order to get through it. Hell, I don’t know. I don’t care.” Thomas sat Ryan in front of a space shoot ‘em up and popped in the coins. “You being upset isn’t going to change anyŹthing.”
James frowned. “I know.” He put his hand on the game console and exhaled loudly. “I can’t get over the feeling something is really messed up. We’re just missing it.”
“You’re just not giving Cassidy a chance.”
“And you’re giving her too much of one,” James retorted. “Damn it, Thomas, she’s over thirty. She isn’t going to like you no matter how much you fawn over her or her kid.”
“I happen to think she makes a pretty cool friend.”
“So is that why you watched her butt sashay out of here just a minute ago?”
“Listen, she was telling Mom and me today just how cool all this is. How she had never gone for the Outdoors Club in college but now wished she had.” He laughed. “She scared Mom nearly to death when she did her first plummet, but she had great form. She suggested skydiving might be next.”
“So she’s got a death wish. I’m supposed to like her now?”
“She just loves excitement. I think Mom’s finding that refreshing. She’s got an adventurous streak in her, too, that I think she’s just beginning to let out.”
“Our mother is not going to skydive.”
“Maybe she isn’t. But if she does, you can bet it’ll be because she wants to do it.”
“She’s our mom!”
“But,” Thomas lifted Ryan down from the game as the telltale sound of the last life lost played out, “she’s a person, too.”
James crossed his arms over his chest. “You are such a dweeb, Thomas.”
“And you’ve got some growing up to do. Mom’s finally breaking out of her shell, and I think it’s great.”
In the locker room, Brenna grabbed a full-sized towel from the courtesy rack
und headed for the showers. She noted all the stalls were occupied and paused.
“Come on, let’s go,” Cassidy suggested, coming up behind her.
“Where?”
“The communal shower.”
“I don’t”
“It’s just to rinse off. That’s all we need.” Cassidy was already moving; Brenna automatically followed.
At the end of the row of stalls, the floor opened up to a lowered space. Spigots lined the far wall at chest height.
Brenna shook her head. “I need a shower.”
“Then feel free to wait.” Cassidy stepped out of her shoes. Putting them up on a bench, she dropped her gym bag next to them, then pulled off her socks. Bending over, she stepped out of her shorts and dropped them on top. She remained in her white tank top and underwear as she pulled the chain under a spigot and stepped into the water flow. Turning around, she dropped her head under the spray and combed her fingers through it before tossing her head back. She looked at Brenna as she brushed the hair back from her cheeks and forehead.
Brenna drank in the sight of lean curves hidden inside the clinging wet tank. “You’re soaked.”
“Yes, but I’m cool now,” Cassidy answered with a mischievous smile, stepping away from the water. “You ought to try it,” she suggested, running a finger through the sweat dotting Brenna’s near shoulder. Wrapped up in her towel, she sat down on the bench, picked up her bag, and fished out a cotton sweater, fresh underwear, and a pair of slacks.
Looking from the spigot to Cassidy, Brenna saw the blonde’s smile widen slowly and her eyebrows dance. She was being challenged to drop some of her inhibiŹtions.
Bending over, Brenna plucked off her shoes and socks. The shorts followed. There was a tingle down her back she felt she was being watched but when she glanced over her shoulder, Cassidy was bent over, putting on her sneakers. The blond head started to rise, and Brenna turned her face away, averting it before Cassidy could catch her looking. So she wants a game? All right.
Keeping her back to Cassidy, Brenna pulled off her tank top and stepped forŹward into the spray, flexing her shoulders as she scrubbed her fingers through her wet hair. The ice cold water teased her nipples hard before running down in rivulets to her center and continuing down her thighs.
The shower was not cooling her off. Knowing those eyes were on her, appreciŹating the view, made Brenna feel like a ball of fire, the white hot core of which was centered just below her pelvic bone.
She rubbed her hands down her chest and abdomen, sluicing off the excess water. Only then did she turn around. A towel was held up at face level, blocking her view of Cassidy, who was holding it out.
“Dry off,” Cassidy said tightly. “Or I’ll get us both very wet.”
Brenna gave her a daring leer, then wiped the expression from her face as she took the towel and wrapped it around herself. Studying Cassidy, who was deterŹminedly looking at the floor, she felt energized and said evenly, “Don’t challenge me. I always play to win.”
“I’m beginning to believe that.” Darkened eyes, hungry with desire, flickered over Brenna’s face. “Sometime you’ll have to tell me where you developed that comŹpetitive streak.”
“In a household with four brothers we call it a survival mechanism.”
Cassidy was silent for a long moment, then quirked her brow. “You like nude sunbathing too, I bet.”
“What makes you say that?”
Cassidy’s smile broadened, showing her teeth before she turned away. “No tan lines.”
A flush caught Brenna from head to toe as she settled quickly on the bench to cover her weakened knees. “I’m a mother,” she protested innocently, “How could I dare do that?”
Cassidy watched Brenna as she covered herself in a billowy green blouse and black slacks, then stepped into low-heeled sandals. “A year ago I’d have guessed tanŹning salon,” she mused. “But I didn’t see this adventurous competitor in you then.”
“True,” Brenna acknowledged.
“Though I wouldn’t be surprised to discover that’s why you built the deck in your backyard.”
Brenna’s cheeks flooded with heat, and she dropped her eyes.
“I swear you’ve bewitched me. I can completely see you in that yard… More beautiful than any fairy princess.” As Brenna’s head came up, Cassidy swept in and planted a quick kiss at the corner of her lips. Aroused but wary, Brenna looked around, noting they were well hidden from others in the locker room.
Exhaling sharply, she grasped the nearby tiled wall separator and watched Cassidy leave. God help me, I’ve never felt anything this totally consuming in my life. Collecting her wet things and rolling them into her towel, Brenna stuffed them into her bag, tossed the bag on her shoulder, and strode out.
When she stepped out into the gym again, Brenna spotted Cassidy standing among their children. Ryan was in her arms as she spoke with Thomas on her left and James looked at them from her right. A sensation of family slammed into her with the force of a physical blow. At that moment, she resolved to make that snapŹshot a permanent picture in her life.
Wrapping her arm around James’ shoulder, she addressed the group. “Everyone ready for dinner? I’m starved.”
Chapter 33
Brenna stood at the stove, tending a skillet of chicken strips saut^ing in a white wine and mustard sauce. She glanced at the timer, noting the wild grain rice still had ten minutes. Just enough time to finish the chicken thoroughly.
She looked over her shoulder at the kitchen’s other occupant. Cassidy’s face was in profile as she skillfully chopped vegetables on the cutting board. Odd enough for a first date, she thought with a smile. Dinner with my kids and me. Cassidy looked far from daunted. When all three boys disappeared into the game room, she had offered to assist. Right now she was cutting mushrooms to add to the salad in a bowl by her left elbow. The fall of her hair obscured her face somewhat, so Brenna shifted to catch the profiled chin and nose, admiring the smooth features.
“Salad’s almost finished.” Cassidy spoke without turning, alerting Brenna to the fact that she knew she was being watched. “You’ll burn your hand again if you don’t pay attention to what you’re doing.” She turned her head slightly until their gazes met. Brenna blushed under her amused smile.
You’re distracting me, she thought. She tried to hide her blush and covered it with, “The chicken and rice are almost done.”
Cassidy nodded, pushing the mound of cut mushrooms from the board into the bowl, then tossing the salad briefly. “Well, why don’t I tell them dinner’s up?” She flashed a quick grin, dropped the knife into the sink, brushed off the cutting board, and put it back on a hook over the sideboard.
“All right.” Brenna returned to minding the chicken, pleased with the ease with which they’d divided the responsibilities.
Cassidy had learned how to walk silently in order to get herself in and out of the house while tiptoeing around her ex-husband’s rages. She employed the talent now, to get a peek into the game room before the boys knew she was there.
Peering around the edge of the doorway, she surveyed the room. Thomas coached Ryan through a flight simulator video game. Both were seated cross-legged on the floor, control pads in hand. Ryan bounced frequently, giving Thomas a runŹning commentary. The older boy cocked his head and listened. He maneuvered his own ship through the same obstacles on the split screen with the other half of his attention. As he had with her at the gym, Thomas was encouraging, prodding Ryan into making better choices. He would probably enjoy being a camp counselor, she thought, wondering exactly what he thought he might do with his life, knowing he would be graduating from school in May.
Brenna’s younger son, James, was a different story. In the corner of a small futon couch, lowered so that she could barely make out the top of his brown hair, he read a book propped on his bent knees. He seemed pretty absorbed by the contents of the small paperback. Noticing his exhaustion when she collected Ryan before the group left the gym, she had tried to talk to him. He had rebuffed her, politely, but it had been a rejection all the same. She wondered if it was personal or if he was just mad at the world, as some teenagers were wont to be. He did not seem the “mad at the world” type. His mother was just too involved in his life to let it get that far. No, she thought sadly, it must be me. She thought about how Brenna had said the same
thing when Cassidy had been shivering on set one day. Well, not everything has to be about us. It was interesting to think th
at Brenna had been seeing the relationship that interconnected them even then. She smiled and stepped into the room.
“Dinner,” she announced. Three sets of eyes turned to her, expressions ranging from interested to excited to wary. She smiled as Thomas and Ryan stood. The sevŹenteen-year-old flipped off the game console, and James rolled to a sitting position, still warily watching her.
“I’ll set the table.” Thomas stepped past her and left.
Ryan looked up at his mom. “Can I help?” When she nodded, he ran after ThoŹmas.
Amused, Cassidy turned back to James. “Coming?”
“In a minute.”
He returned to the page he held open, and it was clear to her that he’d become interested in the reading again. “Good book?”
He shrugged, trying to tuck the book out of sight. “Just something I picked up.”
“Something for school?”
“No.” He stood up, pushing the book aside. “Come on, before Mom comes looking for you.”
She remained in the doorway, studying him. She wondered at his choice of words: looking for her, not for him or for both of them. Meeting his gaze, she waited until he broke the connection and said, “I may not have said it, but I sure did appreŹciate you watching Ryan this afternoon.”
“Yeah.”
The silence spread like a fog, making it difficult for her to gauge what he was feeling. She was put in mind of Commander Jakes’ stoic mask. It was a phrase that director after director had used while coaching Brenna. “Nothing’s supposed to get through the mask. When it does, that’s the drama.”
On the other hand, Hanssen was supposed to be a contained but forthright individual. Getting at the unflappable Jakes was her form of rebellion. Cassidy was frequently instructed, especially during her first months on the series, to deliver lines with the intent of breaking the mask.
Brenna’s “mask” was a tight jaw, and eyes that wouldn’t look quite at you. She always looked as if she were holding her breath. Cassidy saw that now in James’ face.
She tried to break through. “James, tell me something.” He looked at her, but the mask stayed in place. “Do you watch the show?”
Turning Point Page 33
