Almost a Family (5 page)

“Sure, I’m happy. It’s what I always dreamed of.”

Without asking if she wanted any, he filled the coffee pot and measured grounds into a filter. “I work ten- or twelve-hour days and come home to an empty house. I know what that’s like. It’s damned lonely.”

“That’s you. This is what I wanted, what I chose.”

He didn’t answer, and her fingers fiddled with the corner of a woven cream-colored placemat. It may have been what she’d chosen, but she couldn’t admit to him that, truthfully, she’d never met anyone who had measured up to the standard he had set. He’d been her ideal—dark and handsome, kind, ambitious, an attentive lover. Yet his strength, his utter conviction, had been a few of the reasons she’d had to leave.

The coffee gurgled and spat as it brewed into the carafe. Sara could be heard giggling with Bubbles in the porch.

Jason filled a mug with the coffee and placed it, black, in front of her, then with a small smile put a sugar bowl and carton of coffee cream beside her right hand. “You always did put your career ahead of relationships.”

She added sugar and cream, stirred, put down the spoon and stared up at him. “That’s unfair. You wanted to chase your dream and expected me to fit in your plans where
you
wanted. What I wanted didn’t matter. You refused to hear me, to see that my way could have worked, too.”

“I heard you loud and clear. You made a choice and it wasn’t me.” He took another cup out of the cupboard for himself, his body language relaxed but tension flickered in his tone.

She pushed away the coffee and her voice rose. “You’re still as bullheaded as ever. You still don’t get it. It didn’t have to be a choice. We both could have had what we wanted.”

“A wife going off to a school half a country away isn’t my idea of a marriage.” He slammed his mug down on the counter, his voice agitated.

“And demanding to have everything your own way isn’t any kind of marriage or partnership. I believe that’s called a dictatorship!”

Sara showed up at the door to the kitchen, her little mouth pursed. “Stop fighting.”

Jason was immediately contrite and went over to kneel in front of her. “Sorry, muffin. Your Aunt Molly and I were just talking. Hang on a sec.”

He reached into a cupboard and took out a small red foil bag. “Here. I’m going to give you these for Bubbles.” He took out three dog treats that looked like bacon and ripped them in half so there were six pieces. “We’re not fighting, okay?”

Molly hid behind her coffee cup, taking several short sips and watching Jason deal with Sara. He was so much better with her than she was, and that made her angry, too. She somehow always felt like she was in the wrong. Like she always measured up short. It infuriated her that he was the only person who could make her feel that way.

Sara nodded, then disappeared back around the corner.

“What I do with my life now is none of your business,” Molly hissed, keeping her voice low.

“You’re absolutely right. I lost that right the day you walked out on us.”

Molly placed her forehead on her right hand in exasperation. That day, he’d never understood that he shared the blame, and obviously he still thought he was completely innocent. “You still think it was all my fault. You think you’re completely blameless. Sir Jason the Perfect.”

“I asked you to marry me. You were the one who said no.”

“Even you know it’s not that simple. You presented me with an itinerary of our lives for the next ten years, then wondered why I didn’t go for it.”

His eyes threw daggers at her. “I offered you everything. You tossed it in my face! Now you come back to save the day. Good old Molly. If there’s a job to be done, she’s gonna do it, right? And boy, is she ever going to make herself look good. And when it’s over, you’re gonna leave. Because that’s the other thing you do really well.”

Molly pushed back her chair and stood, her hands on her hips and her lips thin. “You couldn’t be more wrong. You’re jealous. You’re jealous because I came home to look after Sara and Kim, and that’s your job, right? Dudley Do-Right is outdone by the woman who did him wrong. Not everything in life is a competition.”

“If that isn’t pot calling kettle.”

“I call it as I see it, if you remember,” she retorted.

“Be careful,” he ground out between clenched teeth as they squared off.

She sniffed. “You tried to run my life once before. I didn’t let you then, and I won’t let you now. Get over yourself.”

“Right back at ya.”

She stared for a long moment, breathing heavily from anger and frustration, their argument firing her blood almost as much as his kiss had. She was appalled with herself for thinking how she’d love to close the distance between them and kiss him senseless. Rip off his clothes. She wondered if the sex would still be as spectacular…

Whoa. Too far. Time for a strategic retreat.

Spinning, she stormed to the porch. “Sara, say goodbye to Bubbles, honey. It’s time to go.”

“Aw, do we have to?”

Absolutely.
“’Fraid so, kiddo. Gotta get you ready for bed. It’s seven-thirty already.”

Without saying a word to Jason, Molly stuffed Sara’s arms and legs into her coat and boots with terrifying efficiency.

She opened the door, taking Sara’s hand. Sara half-turned and called back, “Bye, Uncle Jason!”

Molly heard him call something, but she was too busy towing Sara across the yard to listen to what it was.

*

Molly flipped through the third file of the day and sighed at the cream-colored stack that still remained. This was the first time she’d had a chance to open her briefcase. Looking after one three-year-old was proving to be more challenging than negotiating land leases and royalty contracts worth millions of dollars.

She closed the file and slid her laptop over on the kitchen table. Clicking on her e-mail button, she waited what seemed like forever for her messages to download. Kim had a computer, but her internet access was spotty. Molly poured herself another cup of coffee while she waited. She opened a message from a colleague, but the words didn’t register. All she could see were Jason’s furious eyes as they’d argued.

So many feelings left to simmer. Molly supposed it was inevitable they’d vent them now after leaving them unresolved. But she hadn’t been prepared for the reality of dealing with him again and confronting all those feelings. It was proving to be more intense than she could have imagined.

She had to stop thinking about him and focus. Sara would be asleep for perhaps an hour. Molly wondered how much work she could accomplish in that amount of time.

She was immersed in page seven of a contract when she felt a tiny hand tug at her sleeve.

“You’re awake already?” She turned, pulling off her reading glasses, and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Sara nodded and stuck a thumb in her mouth, something Molly hadn’t seen her do before.

“Can you play for a little while? I need to finish this.”

Sara looked up at her, saying nothing, but her brown eyes glimmered with tears and the thumb went deeper.

Molly sighed and pushed the contract out of reach on the table. “What’s wrong?”

Two tears splashed over Sara’s eyelashes. “When’s Mommy coming home?”

Molly sighed again, then picked up the girl and placed her on her lap. “I’m not sure, honey. Probably in another week or so. She needs to be better so she can take care of you, right?”

Sara nodded, but Molly could tell she wasn’t appeased.

She had work she must finish, but faced with Sara’s tears, knew she’d have to finish it after Sara was in bed for the night.

She hadn’t seen Jason in three days, not since she’d taken Sara to see Bubbles. She told herself that was not the reason for her short temper and irritability lately. After their fight, distance was certainly best.

“Tell you what. Let’s make cookies.”

Sara’s head perked up immediately. “What kind?”

“What’s your favorite?”

“Monster ones.”

“I don’t know what those are.”

Sara hopped down, took Molly’s hand and dragged her to the cupboard. “They have M&Ms and chocolate chips and stuff,” she explained and opened the drawer next to the oven that held Kim’s recipe box. “In there.”

She lifted out the box. “We’ll see.” An idea blossomed. “But maybe we can make some and then sneak them in to your mom. Would you like to visit her again?”

Sara’s eyes brightened further and Molly wiped the tears from the girl’s cheeks, thinking how sweet and fragile her niece was. There was no contest. Work could wait. For now, there were cookies to bake.

With Sara’s help, Molly found all the ingredients they’d need. She measured and Sara poured, and they took turns stirring. A little over an hour later, they had three dozen cookies cooling on a wire rack, and both aprons and four feet of counter were covered with flour and sticky oatmeal.

“What a mess.”

Sara looked up, happy as a clam. “That was fun. I’m hungry.”

“Let’s test one.” Molly poured them each a glass of milk while Sara picked up two cookies. They sat at the table munching away, Molly listening to Sara’s animated chatter with half an ear.

Sara threw her arms wide, tipping over her milk. Molly jumped up and grabbed a towel, but not before a river of milk spread to the contract she’d pushed aside earlier.

“Oh no!” Frantically she mopped, but the bottom edge of the contract was soaked.

“Sorry, Aunt Molly,” Sara apologized in a quiet voice.

“Sara, you’ve got to be more careful!” Molly held up the papers, trying to press the moisture out of them with her tea towel. She huffed out a sigh of frustration, then saw the girl dip her head and heard the sniff.

She shouldn’t have yelled. It had been an accident. And Sara was pretty fragile right now.

“Sara, it’s all right. Never mind, okay? It was an accident.”

“But you’re mad!” The words came out in a dramatic wail.

Molly smiled reassuringly in response to the drama. “Well, yes, a little. This is my work.” She pressed a kiss to the girl’s head. “But you didn’t mean to spill your milk and I should have picked up my things. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

Sara looked up, hope in her innocent eyes. “When I spill stuff on Mommy’s papers, she hangs them up with a clothes pin.”

“Good to know.” Molly ruffled Sara’s hair. “Let’s get this place cleaned up and go visit your mom while these cookies are still fresh.”

*

They drove to the hospital in the late afternoon, while daylight was disappearing, washed out against the white earth. Sara clutched a paper bag of cookies in her hand while Molly carried her purse and a paperback novel. They found Kim sitting up in bed, watching Oprah with headphones on, her hair clean and pulled back in a braid, her color much improved.

“Mommy!”

Kim’s mouth opened in surprise as her daughter scrambled up on her bed, boots and all.

“Hang on there, tiger,” Molly said and hurried to take off Sara’s snowy boots. “Remember your mom’s still sore, Sara.”

“If you’re gentle, you can snuggle right in here.” Kim adjusted her weight gingerly, making room for her daughter close to her side.

“We brought you a surprise.” Her chubby hand held out the bag.

“You’re my surprise,” Kim answered, but dutifully peeked inside.

“Monster cookies! My favorite.”

“Aunt Molly and me made ’em.”

“Aunt Molly baked? Glad I’m already in a hospital in case they have to pump my stomach.” Kim sent Molly a teasing smirk. “They smell delicious. May I have one?”

Sara nodded. Kim dipped her hand into the bag while Molly sat in a vinyl chair next to the bed.

“How are things going?”

Molly smiled. “Okay. It’s been a learning experience.”

Kim laughed tightly so as not to jar her ribs. “When I called you, I remember you saying, ‘How much trouble can one toddler be?’”

Molly let an affectionate grin crawl up her cheek. “Aw, she’s not trouble. She’s just busy. I don’t know how you do it, and work, and keep your house looking like you do.”

“You get used to it.”

Molly didn’t miss the wistful note in her sister’s voice. “You miss being home, don’t you?”

Kim leaned over and kissed Sara’s warm curls. “Of course I do. I miss my own bed and I miss real food and all that. Not to mention my little muffin here.”

“Any news on when we can spring you out of here?”

Kim shook her head. “Doctor says close to another week. My incision isn’t healing as he’d like, and I’m still on pretty strong meds for the ribs and the headaches.”

Kim looked down at Sara, who had snuck another cookie from the bag. “Here, sweetie,” she said, placing her headphoneson Sara’s ears and then changing the channel to cartoons. Sara looked up in wonderment, then glued her eyes to the screen.

“So how’s Jason?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Molly’s mouth pursed up like she’d sucked on a pickle. She was trying to avoid thinking about their last fight. She’d done pretty well with that, too. At least ten minutes at a time now.