Yours, Mine & Ours (6 page)

“That's not the point! She was mixed to be mixed with her own kind! Because it's such a good—”

“Mix. Yeah, I got it.” Mike scraped a hand through his hair. “Kids, go downstairs.”

“Mommy, make him stop jumping on Darling!”

“Can't you do something?” Amanda demanded.

“At this point, they look pretty well…hooked up. I'm not sure how to de-hook them. If it'd hurt them.”

“I just can't believe this,” Amanda said with despair.

“Neither can I.” Mike sighed. “I'm guessing this means that I won't get that lasagna tonight, huh?”

 

Princess, Darling, Molly and Amanda were all crowded into the downstairs bathroom. Someone had originally painted the room green. As soon as Amanda could get the supplies purchased—there was so much to do in a new house—the girls had decided it was turning into their butterfly room. The grape-and-aqua butterfly wallpaper had already been decided on. But that subject had already been thoroughly discussed, and they were on to the next.

Dinner next door.

Because Molly no longer wanted to go, Amanda was determined to turn the occasion into a solid parenting lesson…but so far, that was challenging.

“I don't see why we have to eat with them, Mom.”

Molly, in spite of her current scowl, looked downright adorable in her purple-and-white shorts set. Because she claimed she was way too old for a nap these days, she'd been coaxed into supervising a rest period for Darling and Princess. All three had conked out for a good hour's snooze.

Amanda wrapped a purple scrunchie in Molly's hair, making a tidy ponytail that matched her own. She was also wearing a purple-and-white shorts set. Personally, she was a little freaked to do the matching mom-daughter clothing thing, but Molly had claimed it was the “most important thing to her in the whole world.”

“We're going over there for dinner,” Amanda explained, “because we want to show Mr. Mike and Teddy that we're gracious.”

“What's
gracious?
” Molly studied her mom as Amanda put on mascara.

“Being gracious means… Well, things weren't going too well between us all this morning, right?”

“You're not kidding. I couldn't believe Teddy peed in the yard. I didn't see his penis, but I still saw him peeing. And then his dog hurt our dog. And then they were so
dirty
.”

“Well, honey, Darling wasn't really hurt by their Slugger. That was something else. But the point—about our going, about our being gracious—is that strong girls don't run away where there's a problem.”

“Why not?”

“Because the problem's still waiting for you when you stop running. So it's just a whole lot easier if you just deal with a problem right when it happens.”

“But I don't have a problem.
They
have a problem. Can I put on that stuff on my eyes, like you?”

“Not mascara, lovebug. But we'll do blush together.” Molly immediately lifted her face and closed her eyes, waiting for her mom to brush her cheeks. Immediately she peered at herself in the mirror.

“I look beautiful,” she said with awe.

“Yes, you do. You look beautiful, but even more important, you're going to be gracious, and polite and on your best manners.”

“Why do I have to be on my best manners again?” Molly insisted.

“Because they're neighbors. And we want them to be good neighbors. So we're going to show them that we're nice people. Everybody has problems come up, honey. Friends, neighbors, family. Disagreements don't disappear if you ignore them.” She'd been an expert at doing just that, all her life, and particularly in her marriage. So for damn sure, Molly wasn't going
to make the same mistakes. “We're going to be on our very, very, very best behavior, okay?”

“Got it. We'll show 'em. I'm going to be so good you won't believe it. I'm going to be so good you'll probably want to get me an outfit for my American Girl doll. I'm going to be so good that you'll let me stay u—”

“We're both going to be on our best manners because it's a good idea. But we'll talk about that other stuff when we get home.” Amanda didn't want to commit to bribery. Unless she had to. In the meantime, there was still a ton to get ready before heading next door. Darling had to be walked—on a leash. Princess expected a treat right before dinner. Amanda had to unearth the picnic basket, then start stacking the dinner—the hot plate of lasagna, silverware, napkins, a warm towel-wrapped loaf of Italian bread, a chilled bowl of fruits for salad. There was also carrot cake with a butterscotch sauce, but she couldn't carry it all at once. Truthfully, she couldn't carry what she had now.

“I'll help, Mommy.” Using her most virtuous voice, Molly reached for the napkins.

“Thanks, honey.” Amanda tried to keep the irony from her tone, took a breath, and off they went.

“Good grief,” Mike said when he opened the back door. “Amanda, I figured you'd bring a pan, not a whole feast. You didn't have to go to all this trouble—”

Oh, yeah, she did. Looking at that sweaty, oiled man all morning—shirtless, muscles gleaming, laughing with his son—well, the whole morning had put bad ideas in her mind, that was all. Unacceptable ideas. The trauma with the dogs was just a different layer of tension. She was living next door to this guy. She had to make it all more comfortable—a
lot
more comfortable—than she was feeling right now. And food seemed the best way to do it, because he was a guy.

Food always worked with guys.

“It was no trouble,” her daughter informed him, in her best grown-up voice.

Mike, to give him credit, didn't laugh. “Well, we sure appreciate it,” Mike told Molly with due seriousness, and then herded them all onto the shady back deck.

Not that Amanda wanted to dwell on it, but Mike definitely cleaned up well. A white polo set off his ruddy skin; the denim shorts even had a belt.

His hand touched her lower back for only a second, yet it was enough to put a tick in her pulse.

Teddy had been spruced up, too, his unruly hair still damp and hard-combed. The dog was completely out of sight, although there was a hint of mournful baying coming from the second floor. The deck table had been cleaned off. The view overlooked their almost-finished water garden.

The kids sat across from each other, while Mike
and Amanda unpacked the picnic basket. “That's an amazing project you took on,” she said, wanting her voice to come out as cheerful as a stranger's. Specifically, she wanted to sound like an unfamiliar woman he'd never kissed, and for damn sure, never rattled.

“It's going to take a lot of hours of blood, sweat and tears, but I'm hoping it'll turn out.”

His son piped up, “We're gonna put frogs in the pond. And then we'll feed them our own worms.”

“Yuck! Mommy,” Molly said.

“Remember. Gracious.” At Amanda's reminder, Molly bobbed her head in exuberant agreement. And that was when the whole dinner started a crash-dive that just never recovered.

Her sweet daughter looked up at Mike. “We're going to be gracious to you two even if you're complete pigs.”

Amanda winced.

“Well. We'll try not to be pigs for you,” Mike told her. “What would you kids like to drink?”

“Root beer,” his son answered, where Molly said, “Iced tea with a little sugar and a little lemon and two small ice cubes. But not too big a glass because I could spill it. And I can't spill it because I'm being extra polite today. Thank you. Oh. I mean, please. Right, Mommy?”

Amanda glanced under the table. Nope, no room to hide there.

Teddy said to his dad, “What's wrong with her?”

“Nothing's wrong with anyone,” Mike said firmly, and stopped choking long enough to deliver drinks. Everyone but her suddenly impossibly fussy daughter were easily pleased by having only to pop a top.

For a short stretch, food captured everyone's attention. Molly sat next to her, crossing her legs exactly as Amanda did. Teddy looked at them both across the table as if they were as fascinating—almost—as dead animals. He started a steady round of kicking, only once in a while kicking Amanda—which was far, far better, she thought, than the Armageddon that would follow if he accidentally kicked Molly.

But those few moments of good luck just couldn't hold. She'd never seen anyone eat as much as Mike—easy proof he was nuts for lasagna. Both kids gained red stains on their clothes, but that was to be expected. One drink spilled. A nearby bee made Molly shriek. Their golden cat with the scary eyes attempted several times to leap on the table.

But it was almost over—and nothing too terrible had happened—until the subject of sex came up.

It wasn't exactly Mike's fault. Everybody was shoveling in food, and Mike took the occasion of quiet to murmur sotto voce, “So…did you have the chance to call your vet?”

She answered carefully. “Yes. At least, I reached her office. She's not in for the next few days. The receptionist said there's a type of morning-after pill. I'm not sure if it applies. We'll see.”

“I told you I'd pay.”

“Not necessary,” Amanda started to say, but hearing the words
we'll see
triggered a knee-jerk response in her daughter.

“Yeah. You know what
we'll see
means. It means we'll talk about it later. That's what Mom said about what your dog was doing to our dog.”

“Now, Molly, I didn't—”

Molly had hunched forward, was looking both male Conroys in the eye with her drama-queen face on. “I don't get it. Why your dog would hurt my Darling. My dog is sweet and wonderful. I can't believe you'd let your dog be so mean.”

“Honey,” Amanda said again, but she was drowned out by Teddy's voice.

“
My
dog isn't mean.
My
dog is the best dog in the whole world. Your dog must have done something,” Teddy informed her.

“
My
dog didn't do
anything
. That's why I named her Darling. Because she's a darling. And your dog was
hurting
her.”

“He was not!”

“Kids,” Amanda said, “Neither dog was hurting the other. Molly, we talked about this.”

“No, we didn't. You just said the dogs were playing. They weren't playing. I don't know why you're not telling me the truth, but I know what the truth is this time,” Molly said, and turned again to Teddy. “I
saw
it. I
saw
your dog on top of my dog. I think your dog should say he's sorry!”

“Hold it, both of you,” Mike said firmly. “Neither dog was being mean. Neither dog was hurting the other. What was going on was…”

He glanced at Amanda, as if asking permission. But as much as she wanted to make the situation better, right then, she was busy wiping up lasagna spots from the table.

So Mike said, “Listen up. That's just what a boy and girl dog do when they really, really like each other.”

“Why?” Teddy asked.

“Yeah, why?” Molly echoed.

Again Mike looked at Amanda, this time more desperately. She reached for a spoonful of fruit salad. “Okay,” he said, “but you owe me for this.” And to the kids, he continued, “Because that's how dogs express when they love each other and want to have puppies.”

“But I love puppies,” Molly said.

“Everybody loves puppies.”

“But you and Mommy were all upset. Why were you all upset if we were going to get puppies!”

“Because,” he said, and almost for sure Amanda felt a big bare hairy foot tapping her ankle, “your dog is very young. And we adults felt that maybe she was too young to have puppies quite yet. That it wouldn't be good for her until she was a little older.”

“I know what you're talking about now,” Teddy piped in. “It's sex. I know all about it,” he informed Molly. “I've got a book and everything. I can't read yet, but it's got pictures of frog babies and duck babies and stuff. I'm probably going to learn to read next year.”

“I don't care about sex and reading! I care about puppies!” Molly said.

“That's just because you're a girl and you're stupid.”

“Stop right there!” Both parents said simultaneously. The potential for war simmered in the air, the kids glaring at each other nonstop…but then Teddy said he had to go to the bathroom.

“You're not going to pee in the yard again, are you?” Molly asked with horror.

Teddy looked at his dad. “You told me I had to be nice. I
been
nice. I been
totally
nice. But I can't be nice
all
the time.”

“Just go to the bathroom and we'll talk about it later.”

When Teddy headed into the house, Amanda jumped up and started heaping dishes back in the picnic basket. Her daughter was trying to engage Mike in a further discussion of sex and puppies—Molly had a backbone of steel, and when she wanted something, such as puppies, she could be relentless.

There'd be another chance. Hopefully. Maybe. Conceivably. But right now, keeping the kids together
any longer was like rubbing poison ivy on bare skin. The gathering tonight needed a fast curtailment. Amanda figured that the faster they got out of there, the better.

“So,” Molly continued to grill Mike, “how come people have babies? How come people can't have puppies instead?”

A crash from just inside the house startled the three of them. Mike shot out of his seat, and Amanda was right behind him. Crashes and four-year-olds were never a good sign.

A
manda only had to step into Mike's living room to grasp the big picture. Near the fireplace, a table lamp had fallen to the ground, its shade askew, its lightbulb and ceramic base in pieces. A tennis ball was in sight. And Teddy was standing in the bathroom doorway. The instant he heard his dad bang through the screen door, he started crying.

“It wasn't me, Dad! I didn't do it! It wasn't me!”

Amanda watched Mike charge over to his son—initially, she was unsure whether he was angry or annoyed or frustrated. But his response conveyed none of those things. He just swiftly scooped up his son and lifted him away from the sharp shards.

Teddy heaved sobs in between extensive explanations to his dad.

“It was a woman who did it. She came in the front door. I said who are you and you'd better get out of here. But she picked up Slugger's ball and threw it at the lamp just like that. I couldn't stop her. I wasn't strong enough. I said, I'm going to get my dad! But then she ran away! It wasn't me, Dad! It was her! The woman!”

Mike set his son on a chair—firmly—with a glance at Amanda.

“Where's your broom or vacuum?” she asked.

“I'll take care of it.”

“I'm telling you the
truth,
Dad. She had yellow hair. And she was tall. And she had a big purse. And big, big, big earrings.”

“Teddy,” Mike said quietly, sternly. “Your mother was not here.”

“It wasn't my mother. It was just a woman who looked like her. And had earrings like her. I told her and told her, go away and I'll call my dad. But she still just picked up Slugger's ball…”

Amanda figured it was an ideal time to tiptoe away. She grabbed Molly and the picnic basket and took off for home.

It was another four hours before she could call the day quits. All through the kitchen cleanup and story reads and putting Molly to bed, she kept thinking about Mike—about how he was with his son.

They both had their share of parenting challenges. But she liked how he'd handled Teddy with gentle, calm firmness. How his first thought was to rescue his son from potential harm, not to scold. And how Teddy showed no fear of his dad, only absolute, secure trust, even when the squirt had been inventing an incredibly wild story and had to know there'd be some punishment for throwing the ball in the house and breaking the lamp.

She folded the dish towel, poured a glass of sun tea, turned off lights and ambled outside. Instead of choosing a chair or the chaise, she perched on the deck steps.

The sun had just dropped out of sight, but there was still ample light to see the backyard and the plantings she'd done that morning. Robins pranced in the grass. A dove cooed from the shadows.

Slowly, the sky deepened, softened, darkened. She sipped her tea, set it down, stretched out her legs, relaxed. Stars popped into the sky, which was hardly a surprise on a cloudless night…but suddenly there seemed to be stars in the grass, as well. She sat up, confused, figuring the twinkling lights on the ground had to be some kind of optical illusion. The tiny lights switched on, off, one after the other, all through the yard. Five, then a dozen, then more.

It was crazy. She wandered into the yard, feeling the tickly brush of soft grass beneath her bare feet,
and extended a hand…something touched her, then lit up. Another one of those impossible “stars.”

“Fireflies. Amazing, aren't they?”

She whirled around, saw Mike's shadow from his deck, and immediately felt her pulse kick up. It was because she wanted to talk to him, of course. It wasn't chemistry. It was that debacle at dinner that she wanted to discuss.

He aimed down the steps, into her yard. Her heartbeat did more of that frisky thing…but there were stars floating and dancing around them, on an evening turned velvet dark, and the man looked downright magical, coming out of the shadows like a prince in a fairy tale.

Obviously her mind couldn't be trusted.

“I've never seen them before. Fireflies? So they're an insect?”

“And ugly in daylight. But they don't bite or sting or hurt anything. They're just putting out flashes to attract the opposite sex.”

Like him, she thought. The damned man kept putting out flashes, forcing her pulse to do that thrum thing, making her somehow want to lean closer to him. Not that she did any such thing. “You recovered from dinner? And just for the record, I think you're a hero for taking on the sex-education questions.”

He gave a short laugh. “Your daughter had me stumped with the question about why humans have babies and can't have puppies. Not that it's a hard
question. Just hard to think up an answer that works for a four-year-old.”

“Speaking of four-year-olds…I swear, Mike, my daughter can be absolutely wonderful.”

He chuckled again. “I think she is. She's honest. And she stands up. My guess is that all that character comes from the red hair. Your set of genes.” And then it was his turn to clear his throat. “And speaking of the other four-year-old…I swear, my son does know how to tell the truth.”

“Of course he does. That's just what four-year-olds do. Invent. Imagine. It just gets out of control sometimes.”

Mike scraped a hand through his hair. “Well, in my time, we called it lying. The tricky part is that the villain in all his stories is never an ogre or an alligator or a bad guy. It's always a woman who looks just like his mom.”

Amanda winced—for both of them. “Touchy.” She didn't motion him toward the steps, but they both seem to aim back there. He took one side and she took the other, neither touching…neither even looking at each other. She thought they were both being seriously smart this time.

Besides, there were those magical fireflies to look at.

“You weren't kidding about Teddy having mom issues, were you? Or mom-desertion issues.”

He sighed. “I keep trying to turn it around, but I'm
not sure how. I was a lawyer by profession, did I tell you that? Right and wrong questions are supposed to be easy. But even when a divorce is right…even when both sides do their best…it's never so easy for the kids.”

“Totally agree.” She tried not to turn her head. “You're not working now?”

“No. When I left the downtown firm I was employed by, it wasn't just the divorce, but wanting something with less pressure, less hours, for Teddy's sake. I really wanted to take a couple months off, go after a healthier life here. A kid's life, rather than an adult's city life. All the stuff we talked about before. Speaking of which…do you know what you're doing for preschools?”

She started to laugh…and then he did, too.

“I know,” he said wryly. “I can remember when I had the spare time for music, restaurants, a show, whatever. Now it's analyzing what makes a four-year old fib and deciding whether he needs vaccination shots for preschool. What happened to my real life and will it ever show up again?”

Amanda felt a heart tug…she could have asked the exact same question, and she couldn't believe there was someone else who understood exactly what she was going through. This kind of talk…it wasn't like leaning. It wasn't like counting on a white knight to
rescue her. It was just…incredible…to find someone else who needed to reach out for the same reasons.

A friend.

A plain old real friend.

What a wild concept.

“What?” he said, as if trying to read her expression.

“Nothing. I just… It's nice to laugh. Just laugh. Just be with someone else,” she said honestly.

“Yeah. No strings. No weirdness. No worrisome anything.”

“Exactly,” she said, and in that peaceful moment, her sanity took a complete nosedive. There was no explaining it. Mike lurched up from the deck steps to stand up, and start for home. She stood up at the same time, thinking it was time to turn in. Screen doors were open; it's not as if they couldn't hear their kids, but it had been a long day. She suspected he was as ready for an early night as she was, and started to say so.

Only, their shoulders accidentally grazed again, when they were both in motion. And because it was dark, she stumbled on the bottom step. He caught her, kept her from falling. They were still laughing…but then she lifted her laughing face up to his, intending to say something warm and friendly.

Suddenly there was a second of silence. As magical as the firefly night. As compelling as water and
food and shelter. As restlessly disturbing as the air just before a thunderstorm.

And then the storm hit.

These weren't like the kisses before. This was Gorilla Glue. Once he pulled her into his arms, she couldn't pull free. Once her mouth found his, he either couldn't or wouldn't let go.

He spun her—possibly just an instinctive moment to protect them both from falling. Whatever the reason, he whirled her down the step, into the grass, into the dark shadows of the yard. A simple turn somehow escalated into a wild, crazy dance. A dance of kisses. A dance of stolen laughter. A dance of silliness at first, yet transformed by the rhythm of silk and shadows into something darker, richer. Sexier.

He murmured something, into her hair, onto her throat, a whisper that tickled her skin, tingled her senses. She lifted her arms to loop around his neck, wanting to look at him, to understand what was going on.

He looked back, but his eyes were too dark, too mesmerizing. His palms skidded down her sides, taking in ribs, waist, hips, shaping her, learning her. Then he bent down for another sweep of a kiss, this one involving teeth and tongues and pressure.

She curved closer, spine bowed, so her breasts and belly could rub against him. She hadn't felt this ignition charge since…since he'd first kissed her. But that was controllable. This wasn't. The divorce had
brought on an epic stretch of sexual deprivation. But desire so fierce, so luscious, that she couldn't catch her breath?

He made her feel it. The desire to risk all. The brand of need that tangled every nerve in the body. Abandonment. That's what she wanted. Just once in her life. To abandon all reason, all good sense, and just give into the power of this man, this moment, this incredibly powerful wildness.

A dog suddenly barked. Not his hound. Not her Darling. A neighbor's dog…reminding her—and apparently Mike—that they were in the middle of a neighborhood. His head shot up. She lifted hers at the same time.

This wasn't a Shangri-la with fireflies.

It wasn't a fantasy.

It was real life. With both their kids behind screened doors mere yards away.

“Good grief,” she murmured, aware that her shorts seemed to be unbuttoned, her tee dragging off her shoulder. That his tee had been pushed up. Possibly even by her…since no one else appeared to be glued to him.

“Hell,” he responded. Then, “You want to hear I'm sorry?”

“No, of course not. It just…happened. I don't believe you planned this. And I sure as heavens didn't.”

He nodded, relief in his face as he stepped back.

“Good thing we understand each other. Nice to have a friend where you don't have to sweat guilt or regrets or explanations all the time.”

“You said it,” she said. Somehow her voice came out oddly hollow. “Thank heavens we're just friends.”

 

Thankfully, sanity returned with daylight…and more sanity shored up after days passed without seeing her neighbor. The mosquito bites faded. The mark on her throat slowly disappeared. The raw feeling in her heart… Well, she banished it. As she was sure Mike had.

They'd been a pinch away from making love. Out side. In the grass. With the fireflies and mosquitoes. In public.

Well.

That certainly wouldn't happen again.

“When's Daddy coming?” Molly asked—for the fifth time in the past five minutes.

Thom had been due a half hour ago. “Any minute now.”

“He said we were going to do something special. He said it was a surprise.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“Daddy said he's going to buy me a bunch of stuff.”

“Did he?” Amanda lifted the brush. They'd al
ready done Molly's hair. Twice. But Molly wanted it “perfect.”

“Daddy said we'll have so much fun that I can stay overnight next time.”

“I'm sure he believes that's true, lovebug.” And it would happen when hell froze over, but Amanda didn't say that to Miss Priss. The outfit for the day, after long deliberation, was a panda-bear tee in purple and pink, pink capris, sandals with panda-shaped bows and, of course, sunglasses with the same motif. Molly, naturally, had coordinated it all.

Amanda contributed a bag with bug spray, sunscreen and a variety of healthy snacks to hand to her ex. The jerk wouldn't think of any of that. He'd be too busy buying off his daughter.

Just a half hour before, the mail had arrived—and she'd gotten the letter from Friend of the Court, expressing Thom's request for full joint custody. She knew why he wanted it. So he could cut her child support.

“Can I go outside, Mom?”

“Sure. We'll wait outside.”

Thom was just pulling in. The car was brand-new, a gleaming black hybrid. The devil stepped out, looking handsome as sin—white smile, cool shades, the same elegant posture and walk that had drawn her attention to begin with.

It was embarrassing to remember how naive she'd been back then.

Molly yelled, “Daddy!” And he swung her up and around in his arms as if hoping the whole world was watching—with a camera—so he could prove how much his daughter adored him.

Which Molly certainly did. She chattered ten for a dozen as she crawled into the backseat, automatically strapping herself into the child's seat. He glanced up, said, “Amanda” as if he'd just noticed her.

“You'll have her back by seven?” Amanda said.

“I'm sure you'll call me if I'm five minutes late.”

His tone was snotty. She let it go.