Authors: Ginger Voight
He was down the walkway and nearly to his car before she could stammer any reply.
For not having a real “job,” that week turned out to be one of the busiest of Joely’s life. She balanced motherhood with her fledgling business, which was thankfully fluid enough to fit around her commitments as a parent. She carted the kids to and from school and their various after school activities. For Kari, for that week at least, this meant four hours at the restaurant every day, from four in the afternoon to eight in the evening. Having had fifteen years’ worth of experience trying to supervise her willful child, Joely was concerned that maybe Lillian had bitten off more than she could chew. Unfortunately she couldn’t stay at the restaurant and run defense because she still had cookies to make, recipes to crack, baking and decorating hacks to research – not to mention two other kids who needed her attention. That was a pretty full plate. She knew she had to let her baby bird fly on her own for a bit. Joely was convinced it was harder on her than it was on Kari.
In fact, after the appropriate amount of bitching those first couple of days, Kari rose to the challenge in ways Joely couldn’t have predicted. By Wednesday Lillian promoted Kari to bussing tables and she even got a tip or two. When Joely would drop off batches of goodies, she got to witness firsthand how Kari interacted with the customers, filling water glasses, helping the wait staff with trays and cleaning – without complaint – whenever there was a lull in customers.
“Who is that and what have you done to my child?” she asked her mother that Wednesday afternoon. Lillian just laughed.
“I get partial credit. Xander gets the rest.” She indicated where Xander stood on the other side of the room, where he was leading a group of employees through more extensive cleaning projects. Joely watched in wonder as Xander issued commands and, without any argument, Kari would perform each task, even when Joely knew damned well she hated it. Instead she did every chore with a smile on her face.
“I guess he can charm girls young and old,” Joely smirked.
Again Lillian chuckled. “He’s been a proper gentleman, I assure you. Sometimes kids just need an outside party to impress. A parent says do something and there’s this biological impulse to rebel. Another adult says it, somehow it carries more weight.”
She watched him closely as he interacted with the other girls, searching for any clues to send her running the opposite direction. He was a player, so something as simple as a gaze held too long would have supported Joely’s worst suspicions about him and his motives. The more innocent the encounter, however, the more possessive she felt. Deep inside she knew that made her special, and God only knew how desperately she needed to feel special. She felt herself flush as her eyes liberally scanned his body much bolder than she’d normally allow. Her palms itched, as if she could feel his skin under her hands. Every time she remembered what he had done and what he had said, she flushed with excitement. It was something she hadn’t felt since she was but a girl herself.
As if he felt her stare he turned to face her. Her breath caught as their eyes met. When he smiled, slow and sure, she knew then and there that none of those girls had seen this side of him. It had been for her alone, though she still racked her brain to know why. Xander Davy was suddenly her mystery to crack. And stolen glances like that one, or passionate kisses like the ones they had shared, her body pressed up against his, his breath in her ear as he said things she’d only fantasized about before, made her want to figure it all out, damn the consequences.
What the hell, right? She was free whether she wanted to be or not. There was no one left to stop her
or
to fight for her.
But, fortunately or unfortunately, she was too busy to dwell on it all. She spent her days building her business around her life as a single mom. Xander had offered via text to come to the house after the restaurant closed, just so he could help her set up her social media accounts. She declined. There was just no time. The time she wasn’t spending with her kids she was either cooking, unearthing new recipes, learning new baking/decorating tricks or setting appointments for side jobs. Her sleep schedule shrank to five hours a night, six if she was lucky. She was ready to throw everything in the business to reach that $10,000 goal, but she wasn’t going to sacrifice time with her children for it. They ate together every night. She would look over homework, read bedtime stories to Hannah, and do her best to keep her mother’s house as clean as she could.
Her mother had enjoyed decades of solitude. She didn’t want to run her out of her own house with the kind of chaos that comes from living with three kids. Keeping the kitchen under control was hard enough as it was.
Friday night she got her first check from Lillian’s Place. Her eyes bulged at the number. She forgot all about her busy week. It had been a small price to pay for this tiny down payment on her freedom. In fact, she decided to increase her production to bring in even more money. She stayed up late that night preparing an extra couple of dozen cookies, hitting the sheets by almost three o’clock in the morning. She was up again at seven, making as many new goodies as she could before her afternoon play date with Mason and his family. She expanded to the cinnamon buns, as well as individual little fruit pies she made in mini-muffin pans. They weren’t very big, and not as labor-intensive as her decorated cookies. Thanks to some special cutters, she was able to decorate the tops with patterns in the crusts, layering little leaves and hearts on top, to create unique personal pies.
She took three of them with her to Mason’s house, sending the rest with her mother and daughter to the restaurant. It gave her just enough time to change into something a little dressier than the jeans and T-shirts she wore to bake. She put Hannah in a sweet little velvet dress, tying her brown hair in pigtails, and added a vest to Nash’s outfit of khaki slacks and a white, short-sleeved dress shirt, which was a stark difference from the black hoodies and ripped jeans he preferred to wear.
Mason was pleased by the transformation when he opened the door. “Hey, guys!” He reached for a hug, which she automatically returned. “Come on in. Lilah’s dying to meet you.”
Their place was an upper-middle class three-bedroom brick home on the south side of Abilene, and the interior was impeccably decorated. The entryway was tile, with various pieces of art on the wall. They all headed to the living room, which featured a brick fireplace as the focal point.
A handsome man with sandy blond hair and warm brown eyes rose to greet them, as the little bundle of energy with Mason’s dark hair launched off of his lap to do likewise. She skidded to a stop in front of them. “Hi! My name is Lilah Campbell-Pruitt,” she said formally as she stuck out a hand to Hannah.
This caused Hannah to giggle as she shook her new friend’s hand like adults did. “I’m Hannah Morgan. This is my big brother, Nash, and this is my mom.”
“Joely,” she said as she shook the little girl’s hand. She stood to greet the man who came to stand in front of her.
“Christopher,” he said. She could tell right away he wasn’t as gregarious as his life-partner.
Joely handed them the tiny box with the goodies. “I brought you a little something.”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Mason said as he took the box. “But I’m totally glad you did. Wait till you taste these,” he said to Christopher.
“Let’s go in the kitchen,” Christopher suggested.
They entered the cheery kitchen just off of the family room, where a generous spread was already prepared and waiting for them at the table. There were finger sandwiches, cheeses and fruit, with chips and finger foods for the kids.
Once everybody sat, everyone over the age of six ceased to exist for the two little excitable girls, who promptly discovered all their similarities and delighted in their differences. For instance, they both wore fingernail polish, but where Hannah wore her long hair in pigtails, Lilah wore her hair much shorter in a cute little pixie cut. With this much stuff to figure out, they were much too excited to eat. “May we go to my room?” Lilah asked Christopher.
“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, but she shook her head. She wanted to play, and she had a whole bunch of toys she wanted to share with her new friend. It was something she rarely got to do.
Christopher softened to her immediately. “Sure, sweetheart.”
The girls sprang off their chairs and bolted down the hall. “No running!” Mason called after them.
Christopher turned to Nash. “Looks like they’ve abandoned you.” Nash simple shrugged, staring down at the table. Chris shared a look with the other adults before he tried again. “You like video games?”
That got Nash’s attention. He slowly raised his eyes to Chris’s. “Sort of.”
Joely snorted. “Sort of? I think he has a billion points racked up on his game box.”
He gave her a look of disdain before he corrected her on what kind of game console they possessed.
“That’s what we have,” Chris told him. “Set up in the den.” He filled a dish full of fun goodies for the boy, then grabbed a can of lemonade from the fridge. “I’ll show you. Come on.”
Nash looked at his mother, who nodded her approval. Silently he left the table and followed Chris to the family room.
Mason sat across from Joely. “I swear I don’t know how you handle more than one.”
She chuckled. “There was a bit of an age gap between the older two and Hannah. That helps.” She stared after her son. “I am worried about Nash, though. He’s been so depressed.”
“Understandable, given the circumstances.”
She shook her head. “No, he was depressed before that. He’s been withdrawing for a few years. It’s like puberty hit and he’s turned into another kid entirely. Now, without his father around, I’m afraid he won’t come to me about things that are troubling him. He’ll feel like he’s on his own.”
“Been there,” Mason said as he poured her a glass of iced tea. “I turned twelve and realized my folks and I were speaking two different languages. They got more comfort out of what they wanted to see rather than the reality. My advice? Let him know you love him regardless.”
“I try to,” she said. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ve been depressed, too. And maybe it started way back then.”
Mason touched her hand softly right as Christopher entered the room. “Everything okay?”
She nodded. “Nash okay?”
Christopher laughed. “From the look on his face when he saw our game collection, I don’t think we’ll see him again till midnight. Kid was absolutely giddy. Don’t worry. I hid anything that was truly violent.”
She smiled. That was the thought of a parent. Mason handed one of the pies to Christopher.
“I’ve been waiting to try one of these,” Christopher told her. “Mason says they’re a big hit at the restaurant.” He inspected the design. “They’re almost too pretty to eat.”
Mason popped the pie into his mouth. “Almost,” he grinned with a mouthful of food.
She had to laugh. She inspected the plate of cheeses, finally deciding on a soft brie covered with brandied nuts. “You guys are no slouches yourself,” she said before diving in. Her eyes rolled back. “This is divine.”
Mason shrugged. “I dabble. I certainly don’t think I could start a business doing it.”
“Don’t let him fool you,” Christopher told her. “He comes from a family of restaurateurs and foodies. Left up to me, Lilah and I would live off of mac and cheese and hot dogs.”
“Stop,” Mason told him, his affection for the other man evident. “He’s too modest for his own good.”
“If your family is in the restaurant biz, how come you work for my mom?”
Mason’s face fell somewhat. “It’s complicated,” he said softly.
She thought about what he had said about not connecting with his folks. Before she could ask, he offered. “They live up in the panhandle, in Amarillo. I haven’t seen them in three years.” He shared a look with his partner before saying, “After Lilah was born we went there to show them that we were like any other normal family. We loved each other. We had a beautiful child. We have a good life. That was our idea of success, but they were less than welcoming.”
“They refused to acknowledge Lilah even after she was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia right before her third birthday.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said without hesitation. The thought of a sick child was terrifying to any parent. It explained why she was smaller than Hannah, and wore her locks short and cropped. “Is she okay now?”
Chris nodded. “She’s in remission now, thank God. But it was devastating at first. We lived with uncertainty for years. It was what made us try to make inroads with her grandparents, to settle old grudges before it was too late.”
From the pained look on Mason’s expression, it hadn’t happened the way they wanted. “They said she was being punished because of our lifestyle,” Mason said as he looked away. Joely could tell it still devastated him. It broke her heart. “So we moved down here to be with Chris’s mom, who took us in while we got Lilah treatment. It was touch and go for about a year, but my folks never called, never contacted us. As long as we were together, there was nothing to say. So we decided there was never a need to go back. The true irony is that Chris’s mom, Bobbie, isn’t even biologically related to Lilah like they are, yet Bobbie was welcoming, loving and always there for her.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said as she placed her hands on Mason’s. It suddenly put her petty problems in perspective. Yes, Russell was a raving asshole at the moment, but he was still there for the kids… probably even more than ever before. It was the one good thing that had come from the whole thing.