A Mother in the Making

“No, Jack. I want an explanation.”

“Well, let’s just say if you open a nude-mud-wrestling venue in your pool cabana, I might have a case for full-time custody.”

“That’s ridiculous! And totally inappropriate!”

“No, it’s a joke, because I’m trying to keep this light. Terri, I really don’t think that having a couple of people here unloading kitchen cabinets on a Friday evening is going to traumatize our son.”

“No, but it’s going to rob him of your attention.”

“Which you’ve been doing ever since we first separated three years ago, by not letting me have more time with him, so please don’t try that argument.”

Carmen went back out to the truck to bring in the new stainless steel sink, but her cell phone rang in her back pocket on the way.

Kate.

She came around to the front of the house and sat on the porch steps for some privacy and tried to sound as upbeat as possible. “Hi, Katie-girl!”

“I’m home and there’s no dinner, so I’m—”

“But did you get my message? I’ll be home in a bit. And there’s fresh pasta and deli sauce, one of those creamy ones you like.”

“I’m not going to wait. I’m going out. Courtney’s picking me up. Well, her boyfriend.”

“Courtney’s boyfriend is picking you up. Where are you going?”

“Just out.”

“Is there a plan?”

“Just out, Carmen!”

“Wait, okay? I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Well, twenty, at least, but if she said twenty she knew Kate wouldn’t even consider waiting. On the other hand, if she didn’t keep to her golden rule of honesty with her baby sister, then what was left? “Actually, not ten, I guess. Longer. But I’d like to eat with you.”

This was honest.

And I don’t want you out drinking again, especially not on an empty stomach. You’re under the legal drinking age for another two years and ten months!

Which was even more honest, but blatantly counterproductive, so she kept it to herself.

“I hate cooking,” Kate whined, her voice rising in volume and pitch. “I mean, you’re not here, Carmen, the house is cold and dark, and now I have to cook, too? I’ve been serving burgers all day.” Kate had dropped out of college a few months ago, and was working at a local fast-food place almost full-time. Her pay was the pits. “I stink of them. If I don’t hit the shower in thirty seconds, I’m going to throw up. And I’m not staying to eat with you. I’m going out. You only want me at home because you don’t like Courtney’s boyfriend and you don’t want him picking me up.”

“That’s not true!”

Carmen heard footsteps behind her, and Terri’s voice. “If you could excuse me?” She shifted her backside from the center of the steps to the side, and Terri passed.

“Kate, why do you make this complicated when it’s simple? Let’s just eat together before you go out, okay? I love you.”

Terri turned in the driveway with another of her disapproving looks. Apparently this phone conversation was inappropriate, also. Was it because of the emotional tone? Because Carmen was sitting on the steps? Was she holding the cell phone to an inappropriate ear?

“Listen,” she said to her sister, as the BMW left the driveway. “I am leaving here in three minutes. I will cook the pasta. I will make my Ten-Minute Tiramisu recipe for dessert.” She closed her eyes, ashamed of herself. What did parenting books say about using bribery on kids? And they were usually talking about two-year-olds. “If you are not there when I get home, I love you anyway.”

Kate disconnected the call.

Chapter Four

Carmen O’Brien had beautiful eyes, twinkling and chocolate brown and alive.

When she came back into the house, they were clouded with worry, and Jack wanted to ask her what was wrong.

He wanted to ask her a whole lot of things, actually.

Was Terri being a witch to you?

Did you love that kiss as much as I did?

When can I see you again? Can we dress up a little and go out somewhere, and could it have nothing to do with hammers and paint?

But Cormack had questions about the cabinets, and Ryan needed settling in. He would be hungry any minute, if he wasn’t already. There was no time for Jack to follow through on what had happened with the two of them just now in the basement. Carmen went to slip past him in the direction of the kitchen and he stopped her with a quick touch on her arm. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She looked up at him, earrings long and delicate against her neck, eyes very dark. “My baby sister’s being a pain in the butt, that’s all.”

She leaned a little closer than she really needed to. It was more like a sway than a lean, as if she didn’t know it was happening and wasn’t fully in control. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, frozen by the strength of the pull between them. He could almost see it shimmering in the air. He could feel it on his skin, in the beat of his heart and in the weight of his groin.

“I have a couple of those,” he told her, struggling to focus. “Pain-in-the-butt baby sisters, I mean. They live in Florida, not far from my mom and dad. Both married with kids.” For some reason he wanted the two of them to pour out their life stories to each other, this minute.

“I wish my sister lived in Florida.” She looked up at him, half smiling but not really seeing him anymore, Jack thought. Her sister held the prime position in her thoughts, and he wondered about their relationship. “Florida. Alaska. Greenland. The moon. But she’s only eighteen so I can’t get rid of her just yet.”

She sounded grim about it, but then she sighed and he picked up on the care that lay beneath her words. The care and the aura of responsibility. Why was that? Didn’t the O’Briens have parents?

Suddenly he had a whole lot more questions for her.

“Dad?” Speaking of parents… “Are we gonna eat soon?” Ryan asked. “I’m hungry. Like, starving hungry.”

With the kitchen out of action, Jack hadn’t been able to stock up on good kid food. He’d been holding his breath, waiting for Terri’s criticism on the issue, and he’d marshaled his defense ahead of time. He had set up a camp stove in the living room, and they were having home-cooked chicken burgers tonight, with non-negotiable lettuce and grated carrot in the filling.

He hated feeling that he had so much to prove. He’d spent the past ten years, almost, being the best father he could. Why did Terri always assume that he was going to feed their son nothing but junk? Why did she always act as if she was the only one who cared about his well-being?