Espresso In The Morning

“Well, not enough by the look of either of you. I get at least seven and a half hours of sleep every night. My doctor says I’m as healthy as a woman ten years younger.”

“Good for you, Mother,” Claire said and propped her feet on the coffee table before her. She closed her eyes.

“Honestly, hon, I’m worried about both of you.”

Claire sighed and opened her eyes. “We’re fine.” She leaned toward her mother. “I do have a favor to ask, though. If it’s too much I understand, but we have a little change in his schedule and I’m not sure what to do about it.”

Her mother nodded. “He mentioned he wants to quit soccer. I can’t say that I’m surprised. You two can’t keep on the go all the time. I can only imagine how exhausting it is. I can’t comprehend why you would do that to yourself, let alone to your son.”

Claire tightened her jaw in frustration. No matter how old she got, she’d always be an irresponsible kid to her mother, one who never made the right choices—one whose troubles were always her own fault.

“We’re okay, and, yes, he wants to quit soccer,” she said. “But I have to work and he can’t be home alone. I feel like we can’t ask any more of Becca. You know how Kyle is. Grey’s staying longer in the afternoons would be a disruption for them.”

“Why can’t you work from home?”

Claire waved her hand. Her mother had already proven she would never understand—or accept—the truth. “I might try it, but would you be able to watch him if it turns out I can’t work while he’s there? It’s after school Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. If it’s too much trouble for you to get him from school, I’d run him over to you, then pick him up afterward. I know it’s a lot to ask, but you were saying you don’t see enough of him. I just wanted to see if it’s an option.”

Her mother sat in silence, frowning. At last she nodded. “Of course Grey is always welcome with me. I’m doing a little more consulting these days, though. I can work around his schedule for the most part, but I can’t get him until later in the day. He can still go to Becca’s and I can pick him up from there. Just let me know what you decide.”

“Thank you, Mother, I really appreciate it.”

“I’d be happy to see more of him. He’s at a good age,” she said, smiling. “I can even watch him evenings and weekends. You should be going out more, Claire, dating. It isn’t right for you to be single. Both you and Grey could use some male interaction. For obviously different reasons, of course.”

Claire pressed her lips together. “No, I’m not interested in dating and, yes, I agree Grey needs a good male role model,” she said. “I’m working on it. I’m checking into getting him a Big Brother.”

“Really?” Her mother leaned back, arms folded.

“Yes.” Claire said. Would she ever be able to set up another meeting? “Really. Why, what’s wrong with that? I thought you’d be pleased.”

“Nothing, sweetheart—a Big Brother could be a good thing. I just don’t know why Grey needs someone who isn’t family or a friend. What about Kyle? Can’t he spend more time with him? Or how about Ned, my next-door neighbor? His kids are grown and he has more time on his hands than he knows what to do with.”

Why did her mother find fault with everything she did? If Becca had suggested the BBBS, would her mother have been open to it? Claire shouldn’t be resentful when her mother was trying to help. But still...

“I’m perfectly comfortable with the Big Brother program,” she said. “They’re people who volunteer their time to be with kids. They’re well screened. Which is more than I can say for your choice of friends.”

Her mother stiffened at the reference to her former friend, the man she’d admired so much that she’d refused to believe Claire after the attack.

“Phil Adams was an upstanding citizen. He sat on the board of the homeowners association for years and city council wouldn’t have been the same without him.”

Claire stood. “Well, you and I have very different opinions on what constitutes an upstanding citizen, Mother.” She headed toward the screen door. “I’ll drop Grey by after school on Friday.”

CHAPTER SIX

“KEN, IT looks like we’re going to run short on a few supplies before the next shipment,” Lucas said to the older gentleman. “I’m going to make a quick run to get what we need to tide us over.”

“No problem,” Ken said. “I’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone.”

Slipping his jacket on, Lucas pushed through the front door, into the sunlit day. As he patted his pockets for his keys, a familiar brunette rolled into the parking space beside him.

He’d been thinking about Claire since their conversation the other morning. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from giving his opinion about Grey’s need for a role model. And, of course, he’d pushed again about the downtime. As he thought about it, his whole approach to her was colored by Grey’s desire to de-stress their life, but Claire still had no idea Lucas knew about that. She no doubt thought of him as a creep, who stuck his nose in where it didn’t belong. He’d been looking for an opportunity to smooth things over with her ever since.

She slipped out of her car and, thankfully, acknowledged him with a little wave. He returned the wave and smiled. “Welcome back.”

Now that she was here, he had no idea how to dig himself out of the hole he’d dug with her. She stepped onto the sidewalk in front of The Coffee Stop.

“You’re not working this afternoon?” she asked.

At least she was still speaking to him. He again patted his pockets for his elusive keys. “I’m making a quick supply run.”

She nodded and adjusted the shoulder strap of her computer bag. “Well, I’m going to get some work done.”

“Claire,” he said and she paused. “I just want to say I shouldn’t have butted in the other day. You know, harping on you about your schedule and suggesting the Big Brother thing for Grey. I was out of line.”

Again, she nodded, but then stepped closer to him. “It’s okay. You made some valid points.” Her cheeks pinked. “I’m going to look into the Big Brother program. It was a good suggestion.”

She glanced through his car window as he shoved his hands in his pants pockets, still searching for his keys. “Is that what you’re looking for?”

His keys dangled from the ignition.

“Well, that’s no good,” he said and jiggled the door handle to no avail. He walked around the car, checking all the doors. But all of them were locked.

“Do you have a spare set?” she asked.

“I must have had one at some point, but I have no idea where it would be. I guess I’ll call a locksmith.”

She pulled out her own keys. “I think I have a coat hanger in my car, if you want to give that a try first.”

“I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

She opened the passenger door beside him and felt around under the seat, but came up empty-handed. “Hold on.”

She moved to the back door and tried again from that angle. “I’m pretty sure it’s under here.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I don’t mind calling a locksmith.”

“No, I’m sure I have one. It was from some dry cleaning and Grey stuck it under there. Let’s move the seat up.” She climbed into the backseat and leaned over the front, searching for the lever on the left side of the seat.

“Let me get this out of the way,” she said as she grabbed a book bag from between the seats and slung it into the passenger seat.

The contents spilled across the blue upholstery, displaying printed pages marked with yellow highlighter. Lucas hurried to gather the documents, but paused as his gaze fell on one of the highlighted phrases.

PTSD Symptoms: Traumatic Flashbacks

“I’ll get that,” Claire said as she grabbed the papers from his hands.

Before he could comment, she’d shoved everything back into the book bag and resumed fumbling with the lever.

“Let me,” he said and she moved aside to let him pull the lever. The seat slid forward and she was finally able to extract the sought-after hanger.