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Just Like Em

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Год написания книги
2019
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“Yeah, right. Like I really care about kids under ten and adults over thirty. No one my age will be there. I hate these get-togethers.” With that she turned on her heel and ran out of the room.

“Samantha,” Roger shouted, but she didn’t respond. Well, he couldn’t wait around. He turned to Sophia as she came through the patio door with the twins, who carried snorkels and swim fins.

The boys wore swimming trunks and T-shirts with Diamondback logos, which meant he’d be spending a good deal of the time playing lifeguard at the pool. Roger had on a shirt that matched the boys’ and khaki shorts.

“Can you see that Samantha gets to the party? I’ve got to drive the boys over now, and she isn’t ready.” His jaw tightened. “And see if you can make her presentable.”

Sophia nodded. “Sure. When I take the birthday cake. Don’t you worry.”

The phone began ringing as the twins ran for the front door. “Don’t answer it, Dad,” Chip shouted over his shoulder. “We’ll be late.”

It could be important. Roger hesitated by the hall phone, picked it up and immediately wished he hadn’t.

“Hello, Millie,” he said, trying to put a smile in his voice. He hadn’t told his mother-in-law about the downsizing at work and had no desire to go into any details now.

“You know what day Monday is?” Before he could answer, she added, “Karen’s birthday. Are you coming up?”

No way. He had taken the kids to visit their grandmother in May, on the anniversary of Karen’s death. Black drapes had been hung around the living room, and the flames of dozens of scented candles had consumed all the oxygen. But the séance, with a spiritualist trying to communicate with Karen, had really caught him unawares.

Even though he’d removed the children as quickly as possible, the twins had had nightmares for the rest of the week. Samantha had been reluctant to leave.

Losing a daughter and husband in the same year had affected Millie’s ability to cope. Although he sympathized, Roger wasn’t about to subject his children to another harrowing experience.

“I’m sorry, that’s out of the question, Millie. Too busy this weekend. We’ll celebrate Karen’s memory on Sunday.” He might mention it, but had no other plans. “Maybe you could come down here?”

“And have my blood boil away? You know I can’t tolerate a Phoenix summer.”

That he did. Fortunately, he could count on her staying away for a good portion of the year. “Sorry to run, but the kids are waiting for me in the car. I’ll talk to you soon.” He shook away the disturbing feelings, something her conversations always created, and put down the phone.

“Grandma Millie?” Sophia asked from the kitchen doorway.

Roger nodded. “If she calls again, give her some excuse.”

“No need. She won’t talk to me. Can’t understand my accent.” Sophia sniffed and turned back to the kitchen.

* * *

IT WAS A brilliant, blue-sky Saturday morning when Em and her son drove toward Jodie’s house. “What do I have to go for?” Sammy asked. “I don’t know anybody.”

Em smiled. “It’s a party. You’ll make lots of new friends.” Sammy gave her an “I don’t believe you” look in the rearview mirror and placed his chin on his fist. He stared at her through the baby-fine blond hair that fell over his forehead and eyes.

If only she could reach him, she’d finger his hair back. “Don’t be such a Gloomy Gus.”

Em pushed her left spaghetti strap into place. It had a tendency to flop off her shoulder, and she kept forgetting to shorten it. But she was wearing the only cool sundress she owned, and she had no intention of roasting today. “You’ll have a great time, and if you’re not—well, we’ll leave.”

“You always say that. But you start talkin’ and we never go.” He made his mouth droop as he glanced at her. So small and precious. Em wanted to pull over to the side of the road and give him a hug.

“I promise. You say the word and we’re out.”

The party invitation had come as a delightful surprise when she’d called Jodie the previous day. A bunch of seven-year-olds at play would help Sammy meet kids his own age. He hadn’t made any friends since they moved from California, and he still had a month to go before school started.

Jodie had told her that Karen had died, and Em empathized with the children’s loss and with Roger. She knew from her own experience how difficult it was to be a single parent.

When they reached Jodie’s house, Em pulled her car past the row of vehicles parked in front of the balloon-bedecked mailbox. Another white van, a duplicate of hers, pulled past her and parked. Before it came to a full stop, children poured out and ran down the sidewalk.

“C’mon, Ma.” Sammy pushed open the door and joined the group, stabbing at the balloons on the way.

Em chuckled. Kids, how quickly they adjusted. She reached for her bag and the gift and stepped out into the heat, just as Roger walked toward her. He nodded at her, a curt acknowledgment of her presence, before passing with his arms loaded with gifts.

For several moments she stood there, her hand braced against the door, expecting a smile similar to the one he’d given her the previous day. He walked past her without a backward glance. Didn’t he remember her from yesterday? She jerked her hand from the car’s scorching surface.

“Idiot!” she scolded herself under her breath. “He’s probably figured out who I am and doesn’t want a thing to do with me.” She shook her hand in an attempt to ease the burn, took a deep breath, flipped her sundress strap back into place and headed for the party.

The moment she reached the backyard, Sammy said, “Ma, can I go in the pool? Ya brought my suit, right? Chip and Chaz need me to help drown girls.”

“Chip and Chaz? Oh—so you made some friends.” Em searched through her bag and handed him his suit. Without answering, he turned and headed for the pool, waving it over his head. A moment later he disappeared into the house with several young boys.

Someone screamed. “Emmy Lou!” Em turned as Jodie, with outstretched arms, raced toward her. Her short dark hair was held back in several tiny butterfly snaps.

After a quick hug that nearly crushed the birthday present, Jodie hooked her arm in Em’s and directed her toward the gift table. She waved and shouted at another group of people standing under a tent. “Harve, look here. I want you to meet one of my oldest and dearest friends.”

In an aside to Em, Jodie added, “And if you ever need to get divorced again, call Harve. He’s the best lawyer in the state.”

The remark startled Em. She had no intention of marrying a second time. Once more Jodie grabbed her arm, and they headed for the tent.

Introductions went on for several minutes as all the parents welcomed her to Phoenix. Jodie zeroed in on a few single parents, men and women, clustered around a tent pole, and pushed Em into the group. Most of their children would be attending the same school as Sammy, so Em asked questions about what she could expect.

After some pleasant conversation, Em began to relax with the help of a cool glass of lemonade. She hugged one corner of the tent’s shade and watched Sammy frolicking in the pool with several children his age. She had slathered him with sunscreen before coming. Too much sun with his light skin...

She was about to venture over to the pool to check on him, when she saw Roger. He circled the pool, shouting warnings and avoiding the splashes aimed at him.

No man had a right to look that good. He hadn’t changed much in the past fifteen years at all. His hair was shorter but still fell over his forehead in that delightful wave that made her fingers itch. How many times had she dreamed of pushing it aside and raining kisses...?

Stop it, Em. You’ve grown up. Get a life!

She returned her attention to Sammy. She had a life. She had her son, her mother, a job and divorce papers that said she’d never have to pay another dime of her ex-husband’s bills. Life was pretty darn close to perfect.

Sammy disappeared under the water, and for a moment she couldn’t see him. One hand gripping her large bag, the other clutching her throat, Em started for the pool. A second later he came up—choking.

Instantly her heart started to race. Not another asthma attack. Before she could reach his side, Roger pulled him out of the water and began pounding his back.

“Stop that!” Em shouted. Her boy needed assistance in breathing, not bruises. She kneeled by Sammy’s side and handed him his inhaler. But instead of taking it the way he usually did, the boy pushed her hand away.

“I’m okay,” he said in a hoarse whisper. He looked up at her with pleading eyes that tore at her heart. He wanted so much to be like all the other kids, with no weaknesses that might make him different. But she’d seen minor incidents like these escalate without proper care. She wasn’t about to risk another trip to the hospital.

She pushed the inhaler toward him again. He turned away. Frustrated by Sammy’s reluctance, Em sat back on her heels, her full skirt billowing around her ankles.

“I think he just swallowed a little water,” Roger said, in a low voice.
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