An Unlikely Mommy

A memory surfaced, the Christmas her freshman year when her dad and brothers had bought her a stack of cookbooks. The only kitchen tools I’ll need after the move are a microwave, a can opener and a refrigerator magnet with the phone number of the town’s pizza-delivery place.

It wasn’t that she’d ended up stuck with traditionally female chores because her brothers were meat-headed chauvinists. Juggling schoolwork and, in the case of Danny and Will, part-time jobs, they’d all helped around the house in different ways while Wayne ran the garage. Struggling to fulfill a promise that first year after Mom’s death, Ronnie had inadvertently set the pattern from which she still hadn’t broken free.

Take care of them. Looking back, Ronnie knew what her mother had meant—after all, without feminine interference, Will and Devin might never have thought to put on clean clothes. Yet, Ronnie felt as if she’d spent more time trying ineptly to fill someone else’s shoes than finding her own footsteps.

The library was on the corner, and Ronnie automatically slowed, assuming this was where she and Lola Ann would part company after their lunch.

“I, um, thought I’d walk with you,” Lola Ann said. “You know, work off some of that barbecue. Plus, I have to go to the post office. The garage is on the way.”

Ronnie raised her eyebrows but didn’t comment on her friend’s indirect route. “Suit yourself, I’m happy for the company.”

While Joyous was by and large a rural community where cars were a necessity, the few blocks of “downtown,” with its old-fashioned storefronts and limited parking, really did make for a nice stroll. They ran into numerous acquaintances, including Charity Sumner as she exited Claudette’s Beauty Salon.

“Charity!” Navigating the stroller the blonde pushed, Ronnie gave her a one-armed hug. “Long time, no see.”

Charity was Treble’s younger sister and, next to Lola Ann, Ronnie’s closest friend.

“We’ve missed you at Guthrie’s, but understand what’s kept you so busy.” Lola Ann leaned down to admire eight-month-old Brooke. “A cutie like this one sure makes the biological clock tick louder.”

Ronnie shifted her weight, listening as the other two women discussed baby milestones. Truthfully, Ronnie’s biological clock wasn’t running all that fast. She doubted it was even plugged in.

“I should be going.” Charity glanced at her watch reluctantly. “But we have to get together soon! Now that she’s sleeping through the night and I don’t constantly feel like a zombie, it’s time to reclaim my life.”

After they’d said goodbye, her friend’s words kept looping in Ronnie’s mind, like one of those irritatingly catchy pop songs that are impossible to get out of your head. Time to reclaim my life, time to reclaim my life. It was exactly how Ronnie had been feeling…except, had she ever created a life to reclaim?

“Lola Ann, is twenty-five too old for deciding what you want to be when you grow up?”

“What? I thought you liked being a mechanic.”

“I do. I meant metaphorically rather than professionally.”

Frankly, she’d never analyzed her vocational choice too closely. Wayne, who’d inherited the garage from his own father, had spoken often of sharing the place with his boys. Danny was the bookkeeper and worked in a mostly administrative capacity, although he’d probably help with basic maintenance procedures this week because people were gearing up for spring break road trips, keeping them busier than usual. Devin was a certified mechanic, but only pitched in between construction jobs to supplement his income—Joyous wasn’t a hotbed of new buildings and roadways. Of Wayne’s four children, Ronnie was the only one to become a full-time mechanic at the annoyingly named Carter & Sons.

She glared up at the sign that had never really bothered her before now.

Then she shook her head, trying to clear away the negativity. “Honest to God, I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. I’ve been cranky. Itchy in my own skin, bad-tempered and unable to sleep.”

“Maybe it’s sexual frustration,” her friend teased. “That’s made me peevish on more than one occasion.”

“The sad part is, you’re probably right.” Ronnie glanced back up at the familiar sign and sucked in a deep breath. “Lola Ann, it’s time to make some changes. Are you with me?”

The brunette looked nervous. “Uh…with you on what, exactly?”

“We’ve got to take charge of our lives.” Running into Charity today had reinforced the realization that most of the people Ronnie knew were moving forward in different ways. Buying her house was an important step, but it didn’t have to be the only one. “You’re a bright, attractive woman. You don’t have to get all your happily ever afters from books—create your own future. If you’re really interested in that brother of mine, make him notice you. The next time I see Jason at Guthrie Hall, I am marching up to him and claiming that dance I’ve always wanted.”

“You are?” Lola An asked skeptically.

“I am! And if I can be brave, so can you.”

“Seems awfully convenient that the theoretical object of your bravery almost never comes to Guthrie’s.”

“I’m aiming for greatness here, don’t distract me with minor problems like reality.”

LolaAnn laughed. “All right. After you, o fearless leader.”

Empowered, Ronnie swung open the door. Lola Ann followed her inside the small office area that opened via a carpeted hallway into the much larger repair bays. “I’m back from lunch!”

Danny glanced up from his computer, looking amused at her inexplicably emphatic tone. “So we see.”

“’Bout time you got back, slacker.” Devin passed them en route from the minifridge, a carton of leftover take-out food in his hand. “Hey, Lola Ann.” He punctuated his greeting by affectionately chucking her chin, a gesture of such asexual fondness that Ronnie almost winced on her friend’s behalf.

Lola Ann’s expression was one of abject misery. Devin, being male and clueless, missed it completely.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to work,” Lola Ann told her friend. “I’ve gotta get to the post office, pick up those stamps.”

“We’ll see you on Saturday for dinner.” Ronnie gave her an encouraging smile. “In the meantime, don’t forget what we discussed. The world really can be your oyster.”

Turning to go, Lola Ann raised a halfhearted fist in solidarity.

“We make our own destiny,” Ronnie called through the door as it closed. “Even the most daunting journeys start with one decisive step!”

Devin stared at her. “Someone had way too many fortune cookies at lunch. What was that about?”

“Nothing you need worry your pretty head over,” Ronnie said. “Is Dad in the back?”

“Went to lunch with one of his poker buddies,” Danny answered, his eyes never leaving the monitor.

So it was just her and her brothers? She bit her lip, recalled this morning and decided to take advantage of the opportunity. “Devin, after I move out, will you go by the house for dinners and stuff? Keep him company.”

“I suppose, as long as it doesn’t put a crimp in my social life.” When he saw that she was seriously concerned, he sobered. “Sure, no prob. You know I always pop in to do my laundry, anyway.” The bunkhouse didn’t have a washer and dryer.

Ronnie rolled her eyes. “I assume you refer to the bags of clothes you leave on the laundry room floor that get magically sorted, washed and folded for you.”

“Yeah, gotta love those laundry fairies.” Grinning, he speared a bite of cold pasta.

“Well, this laundry fairy is about to get her own mortgage payments,” she snapped, “so you’re going to have to learn how to measure out detergent.”

Devin blinked. “Hey…I didn’t think you minded. I mean, you were doing yours and dad’s clothes so I figured it was no trouble to toss in one other person’s. I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you, Red.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She waved a hand, feeling shrewish. “Just, now that I’m moving out, things will have to change.” Actually, her house didn’t come with a washer and dryer, so maybe she could go to Dad’s house once a week and—No! She would save her quarters and use a Laundromat, or take pizza and a DVD to Lola Ann’s and do a couple of loads there.

They’d snagged Danny’s attention; he was peering at her intently. “You okay, sis? You seem wound pretty tight.”

No way was she sharing Lola Ann’s theory about why that might be.

“I’m excited about the move, but a little stressed, too,” Ronnie said. “It might be weird, not living in my room anymore.”

“It’ll be an adjustment,” he agreed. “For Dad, too. Maybe we could get him a puppy for Easter or something.”