Meant-to-Be Mum

“Jeannie picked out every paint color, every stick of furniture in the place. What somebody does with it after I’m gone is none of my concern. But as long as I’m still here, it’s my home. And damned if I’m going to spend whatever time I have left in the house feeling like I’m in somebody else’s.”

“So why’d you redo the kitchen?”

He huffed a breath through his nose. “Because even I had to admit it was falling apart. Half the drawers didn’t even close anymore. And the old range was down to two functioning burners. So I caved, let some kitchen designer convince me that an upgrade would add value to the house.”

“I’m sure it did.”

“Except I hate it. Looks like a damn showroom. Or a commercial kitchen. Not like someplace a family wants to hang out. Frankly, I’d change it all back if I could. Except they tell me you can’t even get those green appliances anymore.”

“And thank God for that,” Sabrina said, and her father humphed. “Pop...you need to make a decision here. A real one, I mean, not this half-assed thing. Otherwise you’re wasting both the Realtor’s time and yours. If you don’t want to sell, then don’t. I mean it,” she said at her father’s startled look. “Take the place off the market, tell Sunridge you changed your mind—”

“And forfeit my deposit?”

“If it comes down to that, yes. For heaven’s sake—for once in your life, go with your gut, not only your head. If it doesn’t feel right to leave, don’t. It’s your house, your life. Your right to reverse course. But don’t move forward with something only to save face, or because that’s what everyone’s expecting—”

Her gaze lowered, her uneaten food a blur. She felt her father’s touch on her wrist, as gentle-rough as his words. “Why do I get the feeling we’re not talking about me anymore?”

She jerked her hand away, even as she laughed. Hyenaesque though it may have been. Because she had seen the writing on the wall with Chad. Like neon-hued graffiti, actually. But in spite of the troubles with Robbie, she’d clung to the relationship for far longer than she should have. Because she was so, so tired of...

Of failing.

“Hey,” she said, smiling. “You’re the one who can’t decide whether to sell his house or not.”

But after she’d retreated once more to the room that still bore the scars of her youth—a hundred tiny pushpin pricks from long-gone posters, a red stain on the windowsill where a candle had melted and overflowed—the cold, hard truth came right with her, that she’d fallen into the very trap she’d sworn to avoid.

Of letting desperation make a fool of her.

Exactly like she had with Cole, all those years ago.

She hurled her old teddy bear across the room, where it bounced off the closet door with a pathetic little squeak.

* * *

“So Sabrina’s back?” Cole’s sister said, stretching plastic wrap over the leftover salad.

Yeah, he wondered how long it’d take before she brought up that particular subject. Figuring it best to jump the gun before the kids said something at dinner, he’d casually mentioned she’d been at the Colonel’s.

“Yep,” Cole said, warring with himself about having a second piece of chocolate cake. With caramel filling. Sitting there on the counter, taunting him like some barely clad sex kitten in an X-rated dream. Squelching a sigh, he looked back at Diana, while in the family room beyond, her youngest and Cole’s two were watching some zombie flick, the expressions on their faces not a whole lot different than the characters on the screen. “Visiting, or something. Had no idea she was going to be there. Or she, us. What’re the odds, right?”

“How is she?” Diana asked stiffly, and Cole smiled, even as he silently cussed out his brother-in-law for abandoning him to the she-wolf that was his sister. Some flimsy excuse about a crisis at his restaurant.

“Down, sis. That was a long time ago.”

Her eyes cut to his, then away again when she turned to grab the cake cover and rattle it over the plate, hiding temptation. “Just asking.”

Even though she’d been married and a mother already when it became obvious Bree was no longer a part of Cole’s life—having been the center of it for so long—it was Diana who’d seen through his lousy attempt at stoicism and realized her baby brother was hurting. Never mind that he’d brought most of the pain on himself.

“We talked, Di. Watched the kids play with the Colonel. That’s pretty much it. Hey,” he said to the mother of all skeptical looks, “you remember that dude you dated your senior year? What was his name?”

Di frowned for a minute, then said, “You mean Stuart? Gosh—I haven’t thought of him in years.”

“But back then you two were pretty tight, as I recall.”

He couldn’t tell if Di was more shocked or amused. “You were seven, for pity’s sake. How would you...?”

“I might’ve heard Mom and Dad talking. Sounding worried.” He shrugged, enjoying his sister’s blush. “So tell me—if you were to run into Stuart now, would you still feel anything?”

“What? No! Why would I?” Cole lifted an eyebrow, and his sister sighed. “One word—Andy. Who wiped all thoughts of other guys out of my head the minute I met him. Also, Stuart didn’t break my heart.”

“Bree didn’t—”

“Cole. Please. Memory like a steel trap.”

“Then how come you’re not remembering that I broke it off?”

“Damage control doesn’t count. And besides...” Her gaze gentled. “Then there was Erin.”

She stopped there. Thank God. Although there would have been a time when she wouldn’t have.

“Look,” he said, “we ran into each other, we talked, she’ll go back to New York and I’m here. With my kids.” He glanced into the family room. “Speaking of damage control.”

His sister leaned over to kiss him on top of his head. Like he was five, for God’s sake. Then she looked into the family room, her mouth curved down at the corners.

“How are they doing?” She turned back to him. “And before you answer, I’ve survived three teenagers. My BS detector is top-of-the-line.”

“You tell me. Since you watched them like a hawk all during dinner.”

“This can’t be easy on them, leaving Philly, their friends...”

“They’re cool with it, you guys are three houses away and it’s only for the summer.”

“And then?”

“Haven’t gotten that far.”

“So you’re not going back to Philly.”

Not if I can help it, he thought, then smiled for his concerned sister. “Keeping our options open for now. Di—it’s been a week. Give us a second, okay? Although I am thinking—if we stay here—of putting them in Sedgefield.”

That got another disapproving look. “Public school was good enough for us, as I recall.”

“For some of us, maybe.”

His sister sucked in a short breath. “Sorry—”

Cole held up a hand, cutting her off, then refolded his arms over his chest. “Sedgefield’s a better fit for the kids than any of the middle schools here, I checked. And I can afford it.” Which his parents hadn’t been able to, not on their professors’ salaries. For years, Cole had wondered how different things might have been, if he’d gone there. Although of course now he knew bullying could happen anywhere. And if he had, he wouldn’t have met Sabrina...

Thereby saving himself a whole boatload of heartache.