Once and for All (13 page)

“Have you been drinking?” Sam demanded. He and his brother had done their fair share of partying as kids, but he had a whole different perspective on the matter now. Parenting was not for the faint of heart.

“We’re on the team,” Beau said indignantly. “We don’t drink.”

“And after what happened to Mom and Dad,” Tyler added in such a low tone that Sam could barely hear him, “we aren’t going to drink and then drive the Beast home.”

His nephews spoke with total honesty, but Sam still came closer, took a whiff. They smelled of smoke, not necessarily the legal kind, but there was no scent of either alcohol or breath mints.

“I can’t believe you did this.”

“We didn’t do anything,” Tyler snapped back angrily. “We stopped at the party. We fully intended to be back by curfew—which we are, and not because you called.”

“How many other times have you done this?”

“What?”

“Gone to parties when I thought you were just out with your friends.”

“A few,” Beau admitted.

“We’ve never done anything wrong,” Tyler reiterated.

“We have taken kids home, though,” his twin admitted.

“You’re the designated drivers?” Sam asked in surprise.

“The DDs? Sometimes.” Neither boy looked repentant. “Sam, we’re sixteen years old. We can make decent decisions.”

“Sixteen is not exactly an age known for decent decision making. If you go to parties, it’s easy to get into things you shouldn’t.”

“It’s also easy if you don’t go to parties. We’ve talked about this and made our decisions.” Beau spoke with conviction.

“You have, have you?”

“Yeah.” Beau glanced over at Tyler in that way that made Sam think they could actually read each other’s thoughts. Ty nodded. “And we’ve talked about some other stuff, too.”

“Like what?”

“Like we need
you
to get a life so that
we
can have a life.”

“What?” Sam asked incredulously. “How did this get twisted around to me?”

“You need to relax and stop trying so hard,” Beau said.

“Trying so hard.”

“I mean we appreciate it and all, but it’s not helping anything. It’s like you’re trying to make up for us losing Mom and Dad, and you can’t do that. You just—” Tyler shrugged helplessly “—can’t.”

It was the first time the boys had so casually mentioned losing their parents, and they’d just done it twice in one conversation.

“I owe it to your dad to see that you’re brought up right.”

“And you’re doing a good job, but…you kind of…” Tyler looked over at his twin. “What’s the word?”

“Smother,” Beau replied.

“Micromanage,” Tyler corrected.

Sam’s mind was reeling. If this was a ploy to sidetrack him from grounding them because of the party, it was working pretty damned well.

“If you just relax, you’ll be less stressed, and we’ll do our best not to become delinquents.” Tyler glanced at his brother. “Well, I promise not to be a delinquent.”

“Me, too,” Beau agreed, in such a solemn tone that Sam felt like laughing. But then again, he didn’t. What the hell?

He needed a drink, but there was no way he could pour one without setting a bad example for the boys.

“You’re still grounded for going to the party without telling me.”

“So if we tell you…?”

“No,” Sam said adamantly, then rethought the wisdom of taking a tough stance right now. “We’ll discuss it later.” After he’d had time to think about it. “And—” he hesitated briefly “—we’ll talk about other stuff, too.”

Beau and Tyler exchanged glances, then Tyler cleared his throat and said, “We know that having us here has been kind of hard on you. That we’ve kind of made it so you can’t…” Tyler’s voice trailed off and Beau finished.

“Go out with women and stuff like that. Like you used to do. Before.” Sam’s life
had
changed dramatically since the boys had moved in, but he hadn’t realized they’d noticed.

“Is this why you set me up with Jodie?”

They nodded in unison.

“She’s hot,” Beau said. “And I like her. We kind of thought you liked her, too.”

Sam pressed a hand against his forehead. “So you’re saying I’ve been overprotective and…”

“Probably have blue balls,” Beau said solemnly.

It seemed like a good time to end the conversation.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Sam said, feeling totally out-maneuvered. “Maybe not about the blue…whatever, but the other stuff.”

“All right.” The boys got out of their chairs and Tyler clapped Sam’s shoulder in an empathetic gesture before silently leaving the kitchen and heading down the hall to the pit the boys called a bedroom. Beau hung back for a moment.

“Sorry about Jodie. I really did think you kind of liked her. And if you guys hit it off, then…”

“Problem solved for you and Ty?” Sam asked. Micromanaging uncle distracted—although he still didn’t fully agree that that was what he’d been doing.

“And maybe for you, too.”

“’Night, Beau.” Sam wanted to end the conversation before his monklike lifestyle came back into play.

“’Night.”

She’d just pulled the Spitfire into the garage when her cell phone rang. Her pulse bumped up slightly when she realized it was Sam.

“Are you home all right?” he asked gruffly.

“I thought you weren’t going to add me to your duties.”

“Are you home?” he repeated.

“Yes,” she said softly. “I just got here.”
And I can’t quit thinking about you.
“Good.”

There was a brief silence, then Jodie said, “Is there anything else?”

“Probably,” he replied in a tone that made her pulse quicken. “I’ll talk to you later.”

He hung up before she could say goodbye. Jodie held the phone for a moment, staring down at it as if expecting it to tell her what to do. Then she flipped it shut and let herself out of the car.

It appeared that Sam wasn’t going to just go away after that kiss, and now she needed to decide on a course of action.

He was also exhausted from second-guessing every decision he made. He missed his old life, but he had a commitment here.

Last night had been the first time they’d mentioned their parents’ deaths in casual conversation. The boys had gone through grief counseling in Elko after David and Maya had died, but they’d been uncomfortable with the counselor and after three sessions had begged Sam not to make them go again. He hadn’t been that comfortable himself and wasn’t certain whether it was because of the counselor or part of the grief process. The boys had settled back into their lives well enough, though, and Sam thought he’d been doing a pretty good job of parenting—for an amateur—up until last night. But no matter how normal things appeared on the surface, they rarely talked about David and Maya.

Had he made a mistake there, too?

Monday morning, after the boys had gone to class, Sam called Tricia Lopez, the guidance counselor at the high school, from the vet clinic office. He’d winged it for too long. It was time for some advice, or at least another opinion.

Tricia was a Wesley native, but had only recently moved back to take the counseling position. Because of that, she asked Sam to explain the situation from the beginning—if he was comfortable sharing. Sam shared. He poured the story out, surprised at how much he had to say, then waited for the verdict. When Tricia didn’t answer immediately, his stomach dropped. He
had
screwed up. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here.” He could hear reassurance in her voice. “I was just jotting down some notes.”

“So what do you think?”

“I think you’re trying very hard to be a good parent, but you need to be careful not to…set too high a standard for yourself because you feel you owe it to your brother to raise his children perfectly.”

That was exactly what he’d been doing. The big question was how to stop. “All right,” Sam said slowly, jotting down a few notes of his own.

“Most teens think their parents are micromanaging,” Tricia continued. “There’s a thin line between doing more than you should and not enough, and no matter what, kids are going to push the envelope. It’s your job to push back. Just be aware of trying to control too much.”

“Will do.” Or at least he’d try. How was he supposed to know what was too much?

“And as for the other…the boys have a point. Shutting off your own life isn’t helping matters. If you don’t meet your own needs, then how are you going to meet theirs?”

“I was just thinking that in order to keep things stable, I should…I don’t know.”

“But I
know
you, Sam. You’re always going to be there for those boys and you’re going to make good decisions. Just having you around makes their life stable.”

“Should I bring up David and Maya? Talk about them more?”

“I think that might be a good idea. You’ll know if the twins are uncomfortable with it. Trust your instincts.”

“Thanks.”

“May I ask a favor?”

“Sure. What?”
Free inoculations? A neutering? Name it.

“Do you remember Paige Mansfield?” Tricia asked. “She was a couple years behind us in school.”

“Vaguely,” Sam said, wondering where this was going.

“She lives in Elko now, but comes into town once a week to do specialized counseling—”

“We already tried grief counseling,” Sam said. “It didn’t go well. I’m no expert, but I think she made the boys talk about too much, too soon.”

“Paige is a family counselor and she’s really good at not pushing. If you’re interested in trying just
one
session to see how it goes, she uses my office in the evening, after practice is over.” Tricia paused, then said, “I can put you guys on the schedule for this week. Tomorrow. You could try one session….”

What did he have to lose? “Sign us up,” Sam said, although his gut was clenching.

“You’re going to love Paige,” Tricia said with a note of satisfaction in her voice. “And I honestly think she can help you through the twists and turns of adolescent parenting.”

“Damn, I hope so.”

“Hey,” Sam echoed faintly. “How was practice?”

“Coach says if we play like we did on Saturday, we’ll get to state for sure.”

“I agree. That was a great team effort.”

The three of them stood in awkward silence for a moment. Sam had gotten off work at five, so he’d cooked hamburgers, which were now ready to eat. But for once the boys didn’t mention food.

“We really hope we didn’t, you know…” Tyler shrugged and glanced at Beau, who for once came up with the words instead of the other way around.

“Hurt your feelings or anything last night.”

“You surprised me. That’s all.”

“Sorry about the blue balls comment,” Beau mumbled, in a way that made Sam think Tyler had discussed the matter with him.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Sam said, cutting to the chase. “I’m new at this parent game and I’m damned afraid of making a mistake. And, uh, there’s this family counselor who comes to town and we’re going to go see her.”

The boys exchanged horrified looks.

“No,” Beau said adamantly. “Not that again.”

“She’s supposed to be different. Better.”

Tyler said nothing. He didn’t have to—his grimace said it all.

“This is moreso that I know when to cut you loose and when to lay down the law.” Sam figured that the prospect of more freedom might appeal to his nephews. “And maybe she’ll see some things we’re missing. Like me not knowing that you guys felt smothered.”

There were no raucous cheers of agreement.

“One session,” Sam said, “and then we’ll reevaluate.”

The proposal was again met with stony silence.

“One.”

“All right,” Tyler finally agreed. “But she better not be like the last counselor.” Beau gave a slow nod, looking none too happy.

“We’ll find out pretty soon. We’re going to see her tomorrow night after practice.”

“Whoopee,” Tyler muttered under his breath.

Sam didn’t want to admit it, but he felt the same. But he was adamant about getting whatever help he needed. One session wouldn’t kill them and it might shed light on some issues.