Meant-to-Be Mum

Setting the bottle on a nearby table, Cole stood and walked over to the porch railing, his hands slammed into his jeans pockets. “For the summer, anyway. My folks needed someone to house-sit. And my sister and her family are here. It’ll be good for them, having a break until we figure out what comes next.”

“And you ran into Pop in the Food Lion. Amazing.”

“I think that’s called fate.”

He heard her snort. “So their mother... She simply washed her hands of them?”

“They talk. Text.” He looked at her. “It’s only been a week. And she’s still their mom.”

Her downturned mouth—there was a familiar expression—made it clear what she thought of his assessment before she nodded toward the yard, where her dad was giving Wes pointers on how to throw the ball. “Looks like maybe they’re helping each other.”

“So I didn’t imagine it,” Cole said. “That he’s lonely?”

Her cheeks puffed when she blew out a breath. “The others are around, of course. They get together a lot, he’s hardly neglected. But it’s not the same, from when the house was always filled.”

Cole took another swallow of his tea. “Can’t quite believe he’s selling it.”

“Not sure how hard, though. It’s been on the market for months. And it’s not overpriced, but...”

“He doesn’t really want to leave.”

The kids’ laughter floated over to them from the far end of the yard. Her smile seemed halfhearted. Nothing like the sassy grin he remembered. “Can you blame him?”

Cole thought of all the kids who’d found sanctuary here, temporary or otherwise. Himself included. How Jeanne Noble’s generosity, the Colonel’s strength, still permeated the space. It was a good house, filled with good vibes. Mostly, anyway.

“No, I can’t.” He squinted. “So you don’t mind? That we’re here?”

“Why should I?”

For oh, so many reasons, he thought, then looked away again, annoyed that he was still having trouble staring directly at the girl he’d once loved so hard it’d scared the snot out of him. Sure, those feelings were gone, but the memory of them wasn’t. And his fists clenched underneath his folded arms as the compassion in her eyes threatened to reopen not only newer, not-yet-completely scabbed over wounds, but much older ones he’d thought long since healed.

Then she got up to join him at the railing, and he shut his own eyes against the onslaught—of memories, of her scent, of disappointment and uncertainty and longing. Man, was he messed up, or what...?

“Dad tell you about Matt and Kelly?”

The amusement in her voice brought Cole’s gaze to the side of her face again. “Kelly? McNeil?”

“Yep.”

Back in school, Cole and Sabrina and Kelly had been—in hindsight—a very strange but very loyal triumvirate. Until Kelly moved away their senior year, and everything...changed.

“Matt and Kelly, what?”

“Married, if you can believe it. New baby, even. Well, three months old now. Although she already had two kids from her previous marriage.”

Cole’s head spun. Sure, everyone knew Kelly’d had a crush on Bree’s twin brother, but she’d been too shy to say anything. And Matt...well. Matt was Matt. Focused, one might say. Which was another word for oblivious.

“I don’t... Wow.”

Bree laughed. “Long story. Happy ending. Or beginning, I suppose. They don’t live far. In case you run into them in the supermarket or whatever. But fair warning—they’re ridiculously happy. It can grate, after a while.”

This was said with such love—and obvious pain—Cole felt his gut twist.

“I can imagine.”

A moment passed before she nodded toward the kids. “Tell me about them.”

He got another whiff of her perfume, something far more sultry than the sweet, flowery scent she used to wear. The image of all that luggage piled in the foyer flashed through his brain, the tears shining in her eyes—

“Wes is scary smart,” he said. “Especially in math. There was some talk about letting him skip a year, but I said no. Other kids already think he’s a freak as it is.”

“He gets picked on?”

A world of understanding packed into four words. “Enough.” He hesitated, then said, “Nothing like I was, though. Thank God.”

She flashed him a quick smile, then asked, “And Brooke?”

As usual, his heart softened when he looked at his daughter, tall and blonde and still blessedly shapeless—although for how long was anybody’s guess. No longer a child, nowhere near being a woman...and Cole had no clue what to do with her. Except love her.

“Into dance, art, music. Science. Every bit as smart as Wes. And not even remotely interested in capitalizing on that.”

“Because she’s seen what’s happened to her brother and doesn’t want to go there.”

“Maybe. Whatever. Drives me nuts.”

“Give her time, she’ll get over it.”

Feeling his lips twitch, Cole looked over. “You sure?”

“I did,” she said, then laughed. “About being myself, I mean. Mostly, anyway. But those hormone swarms are a bitch.”

“Yeah. I remember,” he said, and she laughed again, then gave him something close to a side-eye. “They’ll be fine, Rayburn.”

“Why would you say—”

“Because you’re their dad.” Not looking at him, she stuffed her fingers in her front pockets, the lightweight top scrunching over her wrists. “You were a good friend,” she said softly. “A good person. Even if we messed things up—”

She cut herself off when her father appeared at the porch steps, leaning heavily on the bottom post and breathing hard.

“Pop? You okay?”

“Of course I’m okay,” the Colonel said, swatting a hand at his daughter before hauling in another lungful of air. “You guys all keep reminding me I need more exercise, so I got it.” Then to Cole, “You and the kids are welcome to stay for dinner. Easy enough to fire up the grill—”

“Thanks,” Cole said. “But we’re going to my sister’s—”

“Right, right—I forgot.”

At the mention of Diana, Cole saw something flash in Bree’s eyes. The vestiges of fear, most likely. His sister, ten years his senior and Cole’s self-appointed surrogate parent whenever his well-meaning but easily distracted academic parents dropped the ball—which was frequently—could definitely be scary.