Cold Feet

“Not today,” he said. “The kids have soccer games.”

“Oh.” Madison poured more batter on the griddle, wondering what to say next. She wanted him to know he could trust her, but she didn’t want him to think she was prying into his personal business. “Maybe Brianna and I could come and see them play.”

“Next week would be better,” he said.

“Next week” would probably never come. Madison wanted to see more of her nieces and nephews, but Tye was always so aloof. “Well, you know I’m here if you need anything, right? You’d call me if…if you ever felt like you wanted to talk, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course,” he said. But she knew he never would. Madison was fairly certain he still harbored some of the resentment he’d felt toward her when they were young. She had no idea what she could do to overcome it. She’d never mistreated Johnny or Tye. Some of the anger they felt toward Ellis for not being there when they needed him, and her mother for being such an unresponsive stepmother, had slopped over onto her.

“I’d better go,” he said. “I don’t want to make the kids late for their games. Thanks for telling me about Johnny.”

“Sure.” She hung up, feeling slightly hurt that Tye never wanted to include her in his life.

The rattle of the newspaper behind her reminded her that she had other things to think about.

She poured Caleb Trovato a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice and motioned for Brianna to put down her fork and quit staring daggers at him.

“Thanks,” he said, lowering the paper enough to look over it. He glanced at Brianna, grinned and went back to reading his paper.

Brianna’s expression darkened the moment she realized her acute unhappiness at his presence caused Caleb no discomfort.

Madison decided she really had to talk to Danny about unifying their efforts to raise their daughter as a happy, well-adjusted child. “Did you sleep well?” she asked Caleb, cracking an egg into the skillet she’d just gotten out.

He folded the paper and set it to one side. “Very well. You?”

She was more than a little curious about Caleb’s late-night visitor. But she wasn’t about to mention it. She didn’t want to seem like a nosy landlady—especially when she guarded her own privacy so carefully. “Fine, thanks.”

“Was that the brother who came by last night?” he asked, nodding toward the telephone.

“No, that was Tye. He’s a year older than Johnny.”

“Do you have any other siblings?”

“Just the two brothers.”

“They’re both weird,” Brianna volunteered, wrinkling her nose. “And Johnny stinks.”