The Summer of Sunshine and Margot

by Susan Mallery

  “What’s the problem?”

  She looked at him for a long time. “I’m not really a smoker. Sometimes, when I don’t feel right, I smoke because it centers me. I go through maybe a pack a year. You don’t have to worry.”

  “Maybe you should just take a Valium instead.”

  She got up and patted his shoulder. “Isn’t that still drugging myself?”

  “Yes, but it’s safer.”

  “I love you very much, and I love Wesley. You shouldn’t worry. Everything is going to work out just fine.”

  With that, she turned and walked into the house.

  Alec knew she meant her words to be reassuring but they were anything but. He followed her inside and took the stairs to the second floor, where he found Margot in the guest lounge. She was curled up in a corner of the sofa. Her face was pale and she looked shaken. When she saw him, she flushed slightly, then turned away.

  He sat across from her in a chair. “I spoke to my mother.”

  “I really should leave.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “I have no idea. We went to the pageant and everything was fine. We talked about the purpose, the scholarships and hard work. She wanted to walk around by herself while I spoke to someone I knew. Not ten minutes later, she was upset—crying to the point where she could barely speak. She demanded we leave and yelled at me for taking her there.”

  She finally looked at him. “I don’t know what triggered her and I have no idea what was triggered. Obviously she was upset, but about what? She told me I couldn’t possibly understand but that it wasn’t me.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “First the dinner and now this. I’m not doing a very good job here. I’m supposed to help, not make things worse.”

  “You couldn’t have known something at a kid’s beauty pageant would affect her so strongly.”

  “Did her mother put her in pageants when she was little? Did she have a bad experience at a talent show or something?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “If I don’t understand the problem, there’s no way I can help her,” Margot said. “Maybe someone else would do better.”

  “She doesn’t want you to go. If she did, believe me, she would have no trouble telling you.”

  “That’s what she said. It’s just...” Margot drew in a breath. “What I should tell you is I’m really good at my job and I hate messing up but what I’m really thinking is I like your mom a lot and I wish I could stop hurting her.”

  “You didn’t hurt her.”

  Her mouth twisted. “I put her in circumstances that hurt her. It’s a fine line, believe me. I’m rethinking my entire plan. Again. It’s not usually like this.”

  “Most clients aren’t like my mother.”

  She managed a shaky smile. “You did try to warn me.”

  He looked at her. “I think you’re helping her. She knows a lot more about Cardigania and she’s very excited about the political fund-raiser.”

  He wanted to say more—he wanted to tell her that he needed her in his house, only that wasn’t true. Yes, he liked Margot but need? That was completely unreasonable.

  “My boss thinks I should stick it out,” Margot admitted. “He says it will be good for me, that my plan is sound and all Bianca’s reports to the office have been excellent.”

  “There. You have proof you’re doing well.”

  “Until today. And the whole soup thing.”

  She shifted so her bare feet were flat on the floor. Until that moment he hadn’t realized she wasn’t wearing shoes, but now that he’d seen her bare toes, he couldn’t seem to look at anything else.

  Her toes? He didn’t have a foot fetish. It wasn’t that her feet were especially erotic, it was that they were bare. There was something vulnerable about that, something that made him want to hold her and tell her everything would be all right. None of which made sense. What if what his mother had was contagious?

  “There’s something in her past,” Margot said firmly.

  For a second Alec thought he’d spoken his thoughts out loud, but then he realized Margot was talking about something else.

  “Behavior is all on a spectrum,” she continued. “Including being impetuous and not caring about what other people think. Most of the time your mother is well in the middle range. What you and I think of as normal. But every now and then she becomes outrageous. From what I’ve observed, some of that is by design, but some isn’t.”

  “We’re back to an incident from her past.”

  Margot nodded. “You really have no idea what it is?”

  “I really have no idea. I would tell you if I knew something but wasn’t comfortable discussing it.”

  She smiled. “I knew you were going to say that. And you’re her only family?”

  He nodded. “She never knew her father—she’s an only child, as was her mother, who has since passed away.”

  “So we have a mystery and absolutely no way to solve it,” Margot said with a sigh. “Not unless we can convince her to tell us what it is.”

  “Unless you can convince her.”

  She grinned. “Not willing to delve deeply into your mother’s psychological past?”

  “I’d rather face lions.”

  “Not even for the key to Indus script?”

  He considered her words. “No, not even for that.”

  “Wow. She is powerful.”

  “You have no idea.”

  * * *

  Sunshine finished squeezing limes into a measuring cup. She had tequila, she had Cointreau, she had ice, she had a glass and absolutely nothing planned for the evening. She was going to put the crappy week behind her, get drunk, then start fresh in the morning. Come dawn, or maybe eight-thirty, she would rise refreshed, hopeful and ready to figure out how to graph linear equations. Barring that, she would check out the math lab on campus. She was not going to be undone by Math 131. She was going to excel—or at the very least, pass.

  She poured the ingredients into the Vitamix, added ice, put on the lid and flipped the sucker on. It leaped to life with the power of a jet engine and before she could say Why, yes, I am sulking, she had margaritas. She turned off the machine.

  “Is this a party for one, or can anyone join?”

  The voice came from behind her. She shrieked and jumped, then spun around to see Declan standing in the entrance to the kitchen. She pressed a hand to her chest, as if she could still her thundering heart.

  “I thought you were out with Connor,” she said breathlessly. “Jeez, don’t sneak up on me.”

  “Sorry. Connor’s staying over at Elijah’s tonight. I just got back from dropping off his stuff. They were having a lot of fun and Phoebe said she didn’t mind, so here I am. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “I know. It’s okay.”

  She reached for another glass. “Just so you know, I’m feeling especially pouty tonight. If you hang out with me, I’ll whine and be unreasonable.”

  “I think I can handle it.”

  She ran a wedge of lime around the rim of both glasses, dipped them in salt, then poured in the slushy mixture. She put the leftovers in the refrigerator—not that she expected them to have to last long. It was definitely a two-margarita kind of night.

  Together they carried their drinks out to the patio and took seats in two of the lounge chairs. The late afternoon temperature was a balmy seventy-two degrees and the sun had headed west but was still visible. Sunshine kicked off her shoes and put her bare feet on the ottoman by her comfy chair. Maybe she would just sit here forever. Later, when she’d decomposed, Declan could bury her bones in the garden.

  She smiled, thinking there were a lot of steps between right now and being nothing but bones. For one thing, she was going to have to pee in a while.

  “What’s so funny?” he
asked, stretching out in the chair next to hers.

  “Nothing you want to hear.”

  “Okay, then why are you pissy?”

  “I said pouty, but pissy works.” She sipped her drink. “I went to a TA session a couple of days ago. The guy was a total jerk. He talked down to everyone, was totally demeaning and then had the balls to practically ask me for sex.”

  Declan put his feet on the floor. “Did you report him? I worked with the college on several projects and they’re supportive of the students. They would not tolerate that kind of behavior. I can get you the name of someone in administration.”

  “Of course you can,” she said, doing her best to keep her tone light. “I’m not going to report him.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s too much like running to my mom after someone’s mean to me on the playground. I don’t want to start something, I just want to pass my class. It’s not even him,” she added, telling herself she was fine. Or she would be. “I talked to one of the students in my class. I told her what happened.” She closed her eyes. “You know what she asked?”

  “What?”

  “She wanted to know if I was wearing something that made him think I was asking for that kind of attention.” She opened her eyes and looked at him. “What year is this? Is that even relevant? For what it’s worth, I was dressed how I always am for school. In jeans and a shirt. Except for the professor, I’m the oldest person in the room. This isn’t about me trying to get a guy’s attention at a nightclub.”

  “Report him,” Declan repeated. “The college would want to know what happened.”

  “I’m sure they would, but this isn’t about that.” She managed a slight smile. “I warned you—I’m being pouty, so this is not the time for reasoned conversation.” She looked at him. “Please don’t try to fix my problem.”

  “I really want to.”

  “I know. It’s a guy thing. But you have to let this go.”

  He exhaled heavily. “Fine. But only because you asked.”

  “Thank you. Drink your margarita. You’ll feel better.”

  He did as she’d requested, then asked, “What are you going to do?”

  “Check out the math lab.”

  “Do you want me to look over your assignments? I might remember enough to be able to help.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m going to go the math lab route. I think it would be awkward to have you helping me with my homework.”

  “The offer stands.”

  “Thank you.” She drank more of her margarita. “So did you get to spend much time with Phoebe today?”

  “And the next topic?”

  She laughed. “Come on. You have to admit she’s nice and funny and attractive.”

  “Then you should date her.”

  “She’s not my type, but you could...”

  He looked at her, his expression exasperated. She grinned at him. He had a nice face. Strong and handsome. He was a good guy. Cared about his kid, which she liked best of all.

  “Fine.” She faced the garden again. “I’ve been thinking about Connor’s birthday. It’s coming up fast. We should figure out the party.”

  “You’re right, we should. I never much thought about it. That was one thing Iris handled. What did you have in mind?”

  He rarely mentioned his late wife. She almost never came up in conversation and Sunshine had no idea what that meant. Connor talked about her, although less often than he used to. Sometimes, before bed, he sent up prayers to heaven, asking the angels to get her messages about what was going on in his life. But Declan was mostly silent about his relationship with her.

  “I would propose we go with an ant-heavy bug theme. I’ve been looking around at decorations and there isn’t much that is just ant based. I can do some custom things easily enough. Let’s see.”

  She put her margarita on the small table between them and held up one finger. “Food. The bakery at the grocery store will do ant cupcakes. I also have a recipe for an ice cream cake that looks like a watermelon with ants on it. We’d do a green punch and call it bug juice. There’s ants on a log, of course and I’m trying to come up with a bug-themed sandwich or wrap, but I haven’t had much luck yet.”

  She held up a second finger. “For decorations I can make caterpillars out of balloons and a couple of places sell small plastic ants by the bag, so we’ll have those everywhere. I can get bug paper plates and cups. I’d buy plain goodie bags, then glue on ant cutouts. So far I’ve found Ant-Man soap, bug stickers and I wanted to talk to you about a flashlight. I found heat resistant stick-ons that I can cut into an ant shape so when they turn on the flashlight, there’s an ant on the wall.”

  She grabbed her margarita and took a drink. “I’m hoping the weather will be nice enough that we can have the whole thing outside. I’d want to rent tables and chairs, if that’s okay with you. I have some game ideas, too, but it’s probably too soon to discuss those. So what do you think?”

  He stared at her. “You’ve thought of everything. It sounds great. Yes, please, let’s do that.”

  “Yay! What’s the budget?”

  “Spend whatever you want.”

  “You can’t say that. What if I go wild?”

  “Then you go wild. I’m not worried. Sunshine, you use coupons when you do the grocery shopping. Those are not the actions of someone who is going to spend a thousand dollars on a kid’s birthday party. Also, a lot of what you’re describing is labor heavy, so time you’ll have to put in. I want to help. I’m pretty sure I could do some of the cutting and gluing.”

  “I don’t know. It’s pretty tricky stuff.”

  “Try me.” He smiled at her. “This is going to be Connor’s best party ever. The ones we threw him were much more low-key.”

  “Is it too much?”

  “No. It’s exactly right. You’re very creative. He’ll love everything you have planned for him.”

  “Okay. Thanks for saying that.” She finished her drink and waited for the tequila to do its thing. “Do you mind if I ask you about Iris?”

  Declan held her gaze. “Sure. What do you want to know?”

  She thought he might have tensed a little as he spoke, but she couldn’t tell. “Was she an indoor kind of person? Not very physical or athletic? I don’t mean that in a judgy way.”

  “I know you don’t.” He leaned back in his chair. “She was very much in her head. She worked in medical research and enjoyed reading and quiet activities.”

  “That’s what I thought. You’re not like that and I don’t think Connor is, either.”

  Declan raised his eyebrows. “He’s always going off to his room.”

  “Sure. It’s what he knows. But he likes to be outside and run around, too. I think he needs a physical activity, like some kind of sport. I’m not sure what, but an organized team would be good for him. After the games he could hang out with the guys, learn the rules of male hierarchy and all that.”

  “The rules of male hierarchy?” His voice was teasing. “What does that mean?”

  “Oh, you know what I’m talking about. Don’t pretend you don’t. Guys have rules for how they interact with each other. We all see it. He needs to learn that. I’m not saying he’ll play pro ball, but it would be good for him.”

  His humor faded. “It would. You’re right—I should have recognized that myself. Thank you, Sunshine.”

  His voice was low and sexy. Appealing, she thought, as a little quiver took up residence in her belly. Declan was... He was... Nice. Just nice. As a father, as a man. She liked his smile and the way he talked and his sense of humor and how he was with Connor and...

  No, no and no, she told herself. Not going there. She loved her job and she was not going to be that girl anymore. She was better than that.

  “Were you into sports in high school?” he a
sked, drawing her back to the conversation.

  “I was a cheerleader.”

  “Of course you were. Great, now I’m picturing you—” He sat up and turned toward her. “I apologize. I never should have said that.”

  He sounded horrified. Or maybe mortified. She didn’t know exactly what he’d been picturing, but it was fine with her.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she told him.

  “I don’t want to be like your TA.”

  “Believe me, you have nothing in common with him.” She picked up her glass only to remember it was empty. Hmm, maybe the tequila had kicked in after all. Not that she felt drunk, just relaxed and less whiny.

  “You should ask Phoebe out,” she said.

  “That again?”

  “Yes. It would be good for you.”

  “I never should have discussed my personal life with you.”

  “Or the lack of one?” she teased.

  “That, too.”

  She sat up and swung her legs down and put her bare feet on the pavers.

  “Declan, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be with someone. Sex is a part of the human condition. It’s not wanting and needing that’s the problem, it’s how people go about meeting those needs that screws up things. What happens between two consenting adults is perfectly fine.”

  He looked at her. She had no idea what he was thinking, but that was okay. Just looking at him made her happy.

  “You’re holding out for love?” he asked.

  She sighed. “At this point I would be thrilled to have someone to take me seriously, but that seems to be a losing battle.”

  She picked up her glass and stood at the same time he got to his feet. The sun had slipped below the horizon and the air was rapidly cooling. The night was still and she could hear the sound of their breathing.

  His dark gaze locked with hers. Something crackled between them—something hot and dangerous and yet full of promise. She knew that if she leaned toward him, he would touch her. He might even kiss her and she found herself longing for the feel of his mouth on hers. Only... Only...

  And then what? After they kissed, what was next? Sex? So they did it and she walked from his bed to hers and then in the morning, what did they say to each other? More important, what did she say to herself? If she was ever going to be more than she was, she had to break the cycle of giving in because it felt good. Dammit, she wanted to be a person with a moral compass and a spine.