Motherhood Without Parole

Like she’d be fooled? There were places in Virginia to ride horses, too. He’d insisted that he’d miss them, that he wasn’t sending them because he didn’t want to spend time with them, but the man was a lousy liar. If he’d done something criminal at work, there was no wonder he’d been caught.

At least he put us in a coed school. All-girl would have been a nightmare.

Though she wouldn’t have admitted to her little brother that she found his presence comforting, she’d been glad he was at Newsome, too. Besides, if they’d been separated, she would have worried about PJ.

Starting at the end of August—barely weeks away—they would be in separate schools for the first time since he’d entered kindergarten. She’d be an eighth grader at a public middle school, while Paul Jr. would go to third grade at an elementary school. Newsome had continued straight through high school, breaking age groups up into different class buildings on the same grounds.

During their weeks in Florida with the grandparents PJ had been uncharacteristically calm about Neve’s no longer being around to look out for him at school. He’d been too busy being excited about being home, being closer to Aunt Lily, making new friends—Neve would miss hers like crazy—and spending time with their father. Ha! Hadn’t her brother noticed that even when they’d visited at Christmas they’d had to wait around for Dad to wrap up “important work” before he took them on whatever promised outing was scheduled? Besides, their dad wasn’t even home. He was in prison. The guy who’d lectured PJ about why playing a good, honest game was always more important than winning and had warned Neve that her active imagination was no excuse for lying…and he’d committed a federal crime! Well, if she had to write some stupid school paper this year on who her heroes were, Paul certainly wouldn’t be mentioned.

Even when he got out of prison, they’d have to share him with his new wife. My stepmother. The word mostly conjured images of evil psycho women from fairy tales. The stories her mom had once read her at bedtime, when Neve had been young enough to think she’d always want her room painted pink. Wonder if the step will let me paint it black? Four black walls might actually be too much, but it would be fun to ask.

Neve had met Kate two Junes ago, when she and PJ had come home for the summer. Dad had thought he was being suave, hinting throughout dinner that Kate, their model-gorgeous guest, was someone special. Unable to take the little suggestions that the kids treat Kate like “one of the family,” Neve had asked outright if her father was getting married. She’d known. She’d known as soon as he’d started talking up his girlfriend before they’d even left the airport. The only girlfriend he’d had since—

She swallowed the painful knot in her throat, redirecting her thoughts to the comparatively easier event of her dad’s engagement. Sensing her father was trying to break the news of an impending second marriage hadn’t entirely prepared Neve for confirmation of her question. Dad and Kate had exchanged glances as he’d nodded, then he’d looked expectantly at Neve, who’d felt like she couldn’t breathe. PJ had appeared equally wobbly. The kid was so small for his age he looked like a baby half the time even when he wasn’t on the brink of tears. Trying to get it together for both their sakes, Neve had asked what they were supposed to call their impending stepparent. No freaking way Neve was calling her “Mom.”

Kate had seemed as weirded out by the idea of being a stepmother as Neve was at having one and quickly assured them that just Kate would be fine. Paul had beamed, apparently thrilled they were already blending as a family or whatever.

What did he know? After all, wasn’t he in jail for something stupid? She wondered if Kate would give her the details if she asked. Aunt Lily mostly just wrung her hands, called the whole thing unfortunate and tried to change the subject. Neve used to be able to talk to her aunt about stuff, but it seemed like Lily and Dad weren’t getting along so well anymore. Neve wasn’t particularly thrilled with some of his decisions, either, but things were bad enough without rocking the boat. She was old enough to know better, but sometimes she just wanted the illusion that things were still close to the way they’d been when Mom was alive.

Footsteps on the stairs and muffled voices told Neve she’d be dealing with her stepmother sooner rather than later. She cast a wary glance toward the closed window. If the situation got desperate, she always had the circus as a backup plan.

Kate sucked in a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. Did twelve-year-olds typically shut their doors? Probably. Kate respected the kid’s right to privacy, but when she’d been this age, all she’d had was a dividing curtain. If Neve kept the thing closed, how would Kate know if the girl was doing drugs or downloading school papers off the Internet or anything else it was Kate’s duty to prevent for the next five months?

On the other hand, it wasn’t as if she’d been monitoring Neve’s every move while the budding teen was in New England, either.

Knowing that PJ’s room was far enough down the hall the noise probably wouldn’t bother him, Kate knocked on the door. It opened to reveal a young woman, seemingly taller than she’d been mere weeks ago, with green eyes that were huge on her angular face and frizzy wheat-colored hair. Neve didn’t speak, giving Kate a mild state-your-business glare.

“Hey,” Kate said. “I wasn’t expecting you guys yet or I would have been home earlier.”

Neve shrugged. “How could you know Pa-pa would get sick?”

Behind Kate, Lily made a small sound, and Kate kicked herself for not telling the other woman she was sorry to hear her dad was in the hospital. Basic etiquette! Kate was known to be the best person in the office for coolly dealing with sudden crises, but anything involving the kids threw her off her game. Well, it’s your first night. You’ll get better at this in no time.

And there was no time like the present.

“Can we come in?” Kate prompted, feeling bizarrely like a vampire who couldn’t enter without a specific formal invitation.

The girl moved aside in wordless grudging concession.

“We’re not keeping you up, are we, dear?” Lily asked, hovering in the background like the world’s largest butterfly. Nature similes seemed appropriate to the earthy, doe-eyed, dark-haired woman who didn’t look much like pictures of her late sister. “You’re probably exhausted.”

Neve remained silent as she sat on the corner of her double bed, but her nostrils flared delicately. Kate bit back a grin, guessing Lily had fretted over the kids all evening.

Kate suspected Paul’s sister-in-law considered her “aloof.” Then we’re even. Kate considered Paul’s sister-in-law to be potentially smothering.

“If you are tired,” Kate said, leaning against a small desk near the doorway, “we can talk in the morning. I just wanted to say hi, see if there was anything you needed.”

“Like what?” Neve’s tone was neutral, but there was an air of challenge in the way the teenager tilted her head, as if scenting ineptitude.

“Um…towels?”

“Thanks, but PJ and I know where everything is.” Her eyes narrowed. “Unless you’ve changed something?”

“No, everything should be in the usual spot. Well. I guess I’ll let you get back to, um, whatever.” Taking a stab at congeniality, Kate smiled in Lily’s direction. “Thanks for providing supper for them and tucking them—”

“It’s not like she had to help us into our jammies,” Neve muttered. On the contrary, the young woman was wearing silky mint-green pants with navy cuffs and a matching button-down nightshirt that made her look like a junior Victoria’s Secret catalogue model, slumber-party edition.

Kate met the girl’s sarcasm with a raised eyebrow and a quelling glance. At least she hoped it was quelling. “Why don’t you tell your aunt thank you before I show her out?”

“I can show myself,” Lily said crisply. “No need for drawn-out goodbyes when I’ll probably see you all again tomorrow.”

So soon? “We’ll look forward to it.”

“Good night, Neve. You know you can call me anytime you need anything.”

Neve nodded, and Kate grimaced inwardly. Oh, sure, Lily didn’t get any flippant retorts about towels.

Lily paused at Kate’s side. “You should feel free to call me, too, you know. Whenever you need help.”

The offer might have been more appreciated if Lily hadn’t sounded so damn sure Kate would need help. Immediately and often.

Kate would show them. Single mothers juggled jobs and children all the time, and she’d conquered every goal she’d ever set for herself. Motherhood would be no different.

CHAPTER 3

Kate’s first thought was that she was being watched—the kind of focused, silent stare that might come from a dog who needed to be let out for his morning constitutional. Slowly recalling that she didn’t own a dog, she struggled to open her eyes.

Her gaze immediately collided with a small boy’s. PJ. Reality clicked into place—the kids had returned and today would be her first full day alone with them. Her heart thudded in her ears. If she were awake enough to think rationally, she would tell herself she’d known this was coming. What difference did it make that it had happened earlier than expected? But rational had apparently hit the snooze button.

“Morning, PJ.” Since she was lying on her side and he was leaning against the mattress, his face was mere inches from hers. Unaccustomed to waking under close scrutiny, at least she’d managed not to scream, curse or otherwise traumatize him.

He blinked at her, his face a miniature of his father’s except for Heather’s hazel eyes. “Do you know how to make waffles?”

“Good question.” She yawned, trying to remember if they had any waffles in the freezer.

“Your breath is stinky.”

That’s what you get for standing so close, kid. Was she supposed to reprimand him for being rude or applaud his truthfulness? “Let me brush my teeth, then we’ll talk about waffles.”

“Okay.” He waited until she stood, then fell in step with her. “Neve says you probably can’t cook.”

Kate was irritated by this assessment, but the girl wasn’t entirely wrong. “I can cook some things.” Including a shrimp pasta dish that was her single cooking-for-a-date meal and a layered dip that was her fallback dish for social events where she wanted to make a good impression by bringing something. Unfortunately that repertoire got old fast and would be of no help for breakfast. She paused in the doorway. “PJ, I have to go to the bathroom now.”

“Okay,” her new shadow responded.

“Alone, all right?”

“Sure. I’ll wait here.”