The Good Mom (10 page)

He slammed the book shut. Hadn't wanted to read it, then or now. It wasn't his to read.

She'd embarked on an affair with another man toward the end. Aidan hadn't known until they were already overseas. He'd found out through a mistakenly addressed email. Or maybe not mistakenly addressed. It hadn't mattered how, just that he'd known.

Aidan wound up his pitching arm and hurled the diary as far as he could. Fleur's secrets would go to Davy Jones's locker.

He sat for a moment, still bobbing alone in the waves. He could taste the bitterness and the regret. Even though he knew it did no good to wallow, he let himself. Five minutes. That was all.

And then he fired up the engine. Smelled the faint tint of gasoline, the gurgle of seawater churning in the propellers beneath him.

At least nobody else knew. Nobody else would ever know he knew, but himself and Fleur, and she wasn't around to tell anyone.

CHAPTER FIVE

L
ISBETH
WAS
TALKING
to Brandon via Skype on the computer in Ashley's kitchen. Lisbeth rubbed her very pregnant belly and gazed with adoring eyes at her husband and Ashley felt a brief moment of envy.

But then Ashley looked at her son. She was lucky to have him. She didn't have a husband like Lisbeth did, but that couldn't be helped.

“Did Uncle Jon leave for the ballpark yet? He's the starting pitcher tonight, right?” she heard Brandon ask his aunt. Ashley dried her hands on a dish towel. She always let Brandon watch Jon's games. Brandon idolized his professional ballplayer uncle.

“No, I'm still here.” Jon appeared in the screen, lowering his head and giving them a quick wave. “Hey, Ash.”

“Hey, Jon,” she said.

“Whatcha cooking?”

“Frozen gluten-free pizza for Brandon.” Her brother-in-law knew about Brandon's wheat allergy. When Jon had lived in Boston while Ashley had been in rehab, he'd fed her son often and he knew the challenges.

“Are you going to the game tonight, Auntie?” Brandon asked Lisbeth. “I think they're going to the World Series this year,” he said excitedly.

The timer near the stove dinged, so Ashley turned it off and then took out their pizza dinner. She calmly dished it onto plates while she listened.

“You need to finish up your call,” she finally told Brandon. “Your tutor is coming over soon.”

Aidan.
She felt herself smiling. To her surprise, she'd found herself looking forward to his arrival, not just for Brandon but for herself. After the long afternoon in his apartment, she'd gone home and thought about all that had happened and been said between them. Her initial anxieties about his presence in her home had been calmed by the realization that despite his gruffness, Aidan listened to her. He took her advice, and he worked with her. He honestly seemed to respect her.

Yes, he was healing from a difficult experience. Maybe mentoring Brandon would help him, too.

Brandon certainly needed the help.

“Good thing the game doesn't start until eight,” Brandon said to his aunt. “I want to see Uncle Jon win his sixth straight game.”

Again, Ashley felt the slight sting of envy. Her baby sister's husband was talented, rich and a good partner to Lisbeth. She was happy for her.

“Who did you get to tutor Brandon?” Lisbeth asked over Brandon's open laptop screen.

“Dr. Lowe,” Ashley said evenly. “We spoke about it, remember?”

Brandon momentarily dipped his head to scarf a slice of pizza. While his attention was away, Lisbeth mouthed to Ashley, “Call me.”

Ashley hesitated only a moment. Nodding, she took out her phone and called up Lisbeth's number.

Lisbeth answered. “Honestly,” she whispered to Ashley, “I never thought he would actually agree to do it! How did that happen?” Her face went off Brandon's laptop screen, and her husband appeared in her place, chatting casually with Brandon, keeping him occupied while the two sisters talked privately.

“Why didn't you think that Aidan would agree to tutor Brandon?” Ashley asked.

“So you're calling him Aidan now?” Lisbeth said on the other end.

“Yes. He asked me to.”

There was a snort.

“What, Lisbeth? If there's some other problem I don't know about, then tell me quickly, because he's going to be here any moment.”

The long scrape of the buzzer rang out.
Too late.
Ashley sighed. “I'm hanging up. He's here.”

“I got the door!” Brandon said. He actually broke away from conversation with the uncle he idolized to go open the door for Aidan, down a short hallway from the cramped kitchen they sat in.

Ashley could see Aidan as the door opened. Darkly tanned skin, a serious expression. Clear brown eyes that stared directly at her, over her son's head.

And that new feeling skipped inside her. A short jolt of pleasure and happiness. The tiny spark of growing familiarity she had at seeing his face. The pleasure that they'd shared confidences, and that he still chose to help her.

Lisbeth groaned audibly over the monitor. “You like him,” she mouthed, crossing her arms as if disapproving.

Ashley scowled at her sister, irritated, but when she turned back, Aidan was addressing her son. Aidan carried a white textbook in his hand, and Brandon helped the good doctor take off his windbreaker, wet with raindrops. Brandon hung it on a hanger in the tiny front coat closet.

Another groan came from the monitor, and Ashley turned back. “This is for Brandon,” she said quietly to her sister. But her sister just stared at her in that quiet, focused, enigmatic,
judging
way she tended to have about her. As if
she
understood Ashley better than Ashley understood herself. And Ashley felt uneasy, reminded of the one time she'd imposed on Lisbeth. The one time she'd had to leave Brandon with her sister while Ashley went to inpatient rehab.

Maybe Lisbeth thought that gave her the right to criticize her mothering skills. If so, Ashley was ready for that to end.

“You know I'm a good mom,” Ashley reiterated. “I always put Brandon's needs first.”

Lisbeth sighed. “I know,” she said. “I'm sorry.” She glanced at her round belly. “Maybe it just reminds me of—”

“Of our mom?” Ashley asked.

Lisbeth looked taken aback. “Yes, of Mom.”

She glanced up and saw Aidan looking at her, brow wrinkled quizzically.

Just wonderful.
He was here, but the tension had returned to Ashley's shoulders. The magic and pleasure of his arrival had gone.

* * *

A
IDAN
PAUSED
BEFORE
the table in the small apartment where he'd obviously interrupted not only their dinner but some kind of heated sisterly conference. He couldn't shake the feeling that his presence was the problem.

He paused, textbook still under his arm. The goal tonight was to work with Brandon for just one hour to start. Have the kid do some quick problem sets with him. Assess where his difficulties were. Make a plan for his next tutor, because Aidan wouldn't be here long enough to finish the job. He was sorry, but that's the way it was.

Ashley put her phone away, then ran her hand through her hair and smiled at him. He coughed, not able to resist gazing at her. She wore yoga pants and a tight T-shirt, which showed off her great figure.

He swallowed. He needed to remind himself that he wouldn't be interacting much with Ashley tonight, since he would be with Brandon. He didn't need to worry about getting too close to her. He would just be with her son, the struggling student who said he wanted to be a pediatric oncologist. Just two weeks of tutoring and mentoring, just to get the kid started, and then Aidan would pass him off to somebody else.

“Would you like some pizza, Dr. Lowe?” Ashley gazed up at him. Her hazel eyes caught his.

“Ah, no. I'm fine.”

“Dr. Lowe, meet my uncle,” Brandon said. He pointed to a laptop sitting on the kitchen table. On the screen, a guy that Aidan recognized as one of his grandmother's former team pitchers was sitting in shirtsleeves, a San Francisco cap on his head.

Aidan sat in the chair that Brandon indicated. He nodded at the guy on the screen. “Hello.”

“Hi, Dr. Lowe.” A woman crowded in next to the guy. She looked about seven or eight months pregnant and was wearing scrubs.

“Hello, Dr. LaValley,” he said.

“I didn't realize that you'd be coming to the house at night to tutor Brandon.” Her tone was cold.

What could he say to that? Dr. LaValley obviously wasn't happy about it.

“Dr. Lowe went to St. Bart's,” Brandon piped up. “He's going to help me catch up with algebra and stay in school.”

Whoa.
The boy was running political inference for him? Aidan glanced at Ashley, but she had crossed her arms and appeared to be silently communicating, sharing looks with her sister.

Both Ashley and her sister noticed him watching them, and they looked away.

There was silence all around. He glanced at Brandon, then at his watch. “So. Where do you study? Here? At the kitchen table?”

“Not usually.” Brandon rubbed his nose. “I work in my room, but I'm eating right now.” To prove his point, he took a bite of the pizza on his plate. “And my uncle has a game. I like to talk to him before he leaves for the ballpark.”

The uncle gave Aidan a look that said, “Is that a problem?”

It was. This kid and his family had no idea of the deck stacked against him. Aidan had once been in Brandon's shoes, and no one had helped him. He'd had to figure out everything himself. At least Brandon had a mom and a family who cared, however clueless they were about the situation.

Aidan stood. “Look,” he said to the couple on the screen, “good luck with your game tonight. I only have a short time with Brandon, and we need to get going.”

Their mouths opened in surprise, and he was sorry for that, but someone had to give the wake-up call.

“Brandon,” he said, “I need to talk to your mother. Alone.”

“No,” Brandon said. “I want to hear, too.”

Aidan glanced at the computer, waiting for the aunt and uncle to sign off. When the screen went black, he turned to Brandon and Ashley.

Ashley just stood with her arms crossed, giving him a strange look.

Aidan exhaled. “Okay,” he said to the boy, “you're twelve. Old enough to hear the truth. You're also old enough to make your own decision. I just left your school, and there's a room full of twelve-year-olds who are away from home, probably for the first time, and they're studying together. No one is talking, making internet calls or eating pizza with their mom.”

Brandon clamped his mouth shut. He gave his mother a sullen look, which made Aidan remember that Brandon really wanted to be boarding with the other kids, but his mother preferred him at home with her. Wasn't that why she'd moved to Boston with him?

“Brandon is not going to board,” Ashley said firmly. “But you're right. Study time should be designated study time. I agree with you on that.”

“I'm glad you're on board,” Aidan said, “because I'm going to be frank. You both need to know what you're up against.”

Ashley's phone rang. A ringtone like an old-fashioned telephone.

A line appeared in her forehead. “My sister.” She swiped at the screen of her phone, connecting to the call. Her cheeks turned pink as she listened.

Faintly, he heard Dr. LaValley's raised voice. After a moment, Ashley said, “I'll call you back later.”

“What's she saying?” he asked Ashley.

“She asked to speak with you.”

“I don't mind.”

He held out his hand, a silent request to take her phone and talk with her sister. He'd say what he had to say out loud. Brandon was watching with big eyes and, presumably, big ears.

She sighed and turned her phone over to him, then crossed her arms and cocked a brow. With a sidelong glance at her son, Aidan knew that she was on the same wavelength as him—it wasn't easy to communicate without letting her son in on what they were thinking, but somehow they were managing.

He took the phone. “Dr. LaValley?”

“Dr. Lowe. You are rude and arrogant, and you are out of line. But I'm not surprised, because you've always been rude and arrogant and out of line—”

Ashley gave him an apologetic look. He appreciated that. For her sake, he let her sister continue to say what she had to say. Her voice was strident, telling him all his flaws.

Okay, he got it. But she also had shown him something important.

“Everyone,” he said, “we're going to have a family conference.” And then he pushed the speaker button so that everybody in the room could hear. “Okay, we need to get Brandon's entire support system on board.”

He cleared his throat and continued. “Your nephew is a lucky kid,” he said, gazing at both Ashley and Brandon as he spoke into the phone to Elizabeth. “He's got you and your husband and his mom, all in his corner, all helping him out.” Aidan hadn't had any of that. “He'll be okay. He's smart, and from what I see, he's a good communicator, like his mom.”

He met Ashley's eyes, just as she was exhaling in surprise. Her hazel eyes fastened on his in gratitude. He guessed that in her family, maybe her younger sister got all the credit.

“We know he's smart!” Dr. LaValley snapped.

So was Dr. LaValley. But from his memory of her, she wasn't a great communicator.

He shrugged, not taking anything she'd said personally. “You all need to know that I have no pull with the school. Neither does my grandmother. If Brandon doesn't pass his classes, he will not be allowed to return next term. It's a serious threat.” He stared at Brandon, who looked genuinely shocked. All the blood had drained from his face. “He needs to decide if this is important enough to him to take it seriously,” Aidan continued. “To prioritize it over watching baseball games.”

“But...but...” Brandon began to stutter out a protest at the same time Dr. LaValley was groaning on the other end of the phone.

“Quiet, please,” Ashley said to both of them. “This is important, and you need to listen.”

“Ashley,” Elizabeth began. “Think about what we talked about.”

Aidan had no idea what they'd talked about, but whatever it was, Ashley was driven enough to make a stand. “I'm Brandon's mother,” she said into the phone. “I will handle it on this end.”

She glanced at them all—him, Brandon and the phone, with her sister on the other end. “You know what,” she continued. “I think Dr. Lowe has said everything that needs to be said. I'm going to sign off now, Lisbeth, and I hope that you and Jon have a great night.”

Then she pushed the button, ending the call, then turned the phone off and stashed it in a drawer.