We Interrupt This Date (17 page)

“Perfect. I can’t wait to give you that
priceless advice about your bathroom. Goodnight, Jack.”

He moved a step closer and I got the distinct
impression he was about to pat me on the head. This I would not
stand for. I was not his girlfriend and I certainly did not expect
a kiss, but a pat on the head was something reserved for a child or
a pet. I lurched backward out of reach and overbalanced, so I had
to grab a porch column to save myself.

His eyebrows came together in a frown.
“What’s wrong, Nic?”

“Nothing. I slipped, that’s all.” Still
hanging onto the column, I tipped my chin up.

“Gotten clumsy in your old age, haven’t you?
You know, if there’s some kind of problem, maybe I can help.”

Sure, Jack, I’ll open my heart and tell you
that even though we are nothing but friends, I’m jealous of the way
you and my sister flirt and I wish you didn’t have a girlfriend.
There, I’d said it. At least, I’d thought it. But Jack was never
going to know.

“There’s no problem. I’ll see you tomorrow,
advise you on your bathroom, maybe even take a look at your kitchen
while I’m at it.”

I watched him drive away before I went back
inside and collapsed in my recliner. Where were all these feelings
coming from? A week ago I’d thought I had a schoolgirl crush on
Steve and now he might as well not exist. In fact, I couldn’t even
clearly remember what he looked like. Maybe I was having some kind
of tired-of-being-alone-crisis. I wondered if there was a hotline I
could call. 1-800-reality check ought to do it.

DeLorean was buffing her nails to a higher
gloss. I noticed she’d left the lotion bottle sitting on the coffee
table. I got up and slipped a coaster under it, but the bottle had
already left a greasy ring.

She didn’t pick up on the vibes I was
sending. She even yawned delicately, putting her fingertips over
her lips.

“Who’s this Kelly Jack has to call?” she
asked.

“His girlfriend,” I spat. “She’s coming here
from New Jersey. Any day now.”

“Moving down or just visiting?”

“I didn’t quiz him about it and he didn’t
say.”

“Maybe he didn’t need to.”

“
What’s that supposed to mean?” I did
not intend to sit up half the night and play guessing games with my
sister.

She shook her head. “Honestly, Susan, for
someone as smart as you are, you can really be clueless.”

I narrowed my eyes down so far I could barely
see. “Clueless about what?”

“Think about it.” She crossed to the dining
room and picked up her sleeping baby, taking care not to wake him.
Quietly she went upstairs.

I stared at my hands. She was wrong. I wasn’t
clueless and I didn’t need to think about anything. I knew all too
well that my feelings for Jack, the feelings that had lain dormant
for twenty years, had come flooding back. And the timing was
terrible.

At 6:30 I gave up tossing from side to side and
dragged myself down to the kitchen to find Christian there ahead of
me making coffee. I drew in a deep breath. “There is nothing that
smells better than coffee after a bad night.”

He shrugged. Something in the set of his shoulders
activated my maternal alert system. My heart sped up, my breathing
quickened, my stomach clenched.

“Mom, we need to talk.”

“What’s wrong?” I walked over to stand beside him,
busily fighting off thoughts about Christian and Trinity having a
baby, Christian and Trinity getting married, Christian dropping out
of school to become a day laborer. Mama’s training was hard to
shake.

“For God’s sake, what were you thinking?” He put his
hands on his hips.

I looked down at myself to make sure I wasn’t dressed
in some hideous rag that would cause him deep shame or even prompt
him to disown me. Nope, my usual ratty robe with coffee stains on
the front. If he was going to object to that, the time was long
past.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ghost tours, Mom? I knew you hated your job, but
ghost tours? And moving into a B&B? Where will I stay when I’m
home and where will DeLorean and Cole stay if you sell this house?
You didn’t think this through. You didn’t consider your family and
what you owe them.”

I peered into his face. “Is that you Christian? For a
few horrible seconds I thought my son had been possessed by my
mother.”

“Don’t, Mom.” He gave an exasperated sigh. “I’m not
ten years old. When Grandma told DeLorean and me what you were
planning, I couldn’t believe it. At first I wasn’t going to say
anything. But after Baldwin called I realized how much DeLorean
needs your help. You can’t throw her and Cole out in the
street.”

“Whoa.” I held up my hands. “There’s not going to be
any street throwing. After DeLorean arrived, I saw I’d have to hold
off on selling the house and moving into a B&B.”

“Thank God.” Christian had never been big on hugs.
But now he wrapped his arms around me and awkwardly patted my back.
“’Cause I don’t mind telling you, it isn’t just DeLorean and Cole
who need help.”

“I understand that you need to get through college.
It’s all taken care of, you know that.”

“It was. But, Mom, like I said, we need to talk.”

My heart gave an extra hard thump. I’d suspected from
the moment he arrived that he had a problem that had brought him
home. I gripped the back of a chair and watched my knuckles change
from beige to pearly white.

“What is it?” I rasped out.

He favored me with his patented poor-worrywart-Mom
look. “It’s not like I’m into drugs or anything. It’s only that I
want to quit my job. Right now, all I do is go to class, study, and
go to work. I need time to have fun once in a while. You know, I
want the full college experience, which I can’t have if all my time
is booked with work and classes.”

I worked my mouth for a few seconds before more words
came out. “That’s out of the question. You need the money from your
job to help cover expenses.”

A pout formed on my son’s face, the face that still
looked so desperately young and unfinished. “I thought you could
come up with some extra money to pick up the slack.”

“We discussed that before you left,” I said, feeling
mean. Do mothers ever get over the desire to jump in front of a
Mack truck if it would help their children? “I don’t have another
dime to squeeze out of the budget. Maybe you should ask your
father.” T. Chandler not only had a lot more money than I had, he
owed Christian something after all the years he’d spent ignoring
him.

“He’s already paying most of my college costs. I
can’t ask Dad for any more money.” Christian looked like I’d just
suggested he ask his father to quit his job and join a rock
band.

“Why not?” I poured a cup of coffee and dipped my
head to sniff deeply. Organic. Trade free. Pricey. Would I have to
give up even this small luxury?

“He doesn’t have any extra cash. He already told me
even before I asked.”

That figured. T. Chandler had a sensor that went off
like the alarm on a bank vault whenever someone came near his
money. The only time it had ever failed him was when he met the
second Mrs. Caraway. I guess the waves of lust had shut the system
down.

“Crystal is redecorating their new house and besides,
they’re having a baby.”

I choked on my coffee. When I regained my composure,
I said, “I don’t care if they’re having a litter of eight. That
doesn’t excuse his obligation to his oldest child.”

“Mom, listen.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I
can’t handle a job and concentrate on school, too. And you can see
this isn’t a good time to try to get money from Dad. You’re my only
hope.”

“Why don’t I simply get a second job?”

Christian missed the sarcasm in my voice. He
brightened up by about four hundred watts and poured himself an
extra large orange juice.

“Thanks, Mom, that would be great. Between the
pawnshop and a few extra hours at a souvenir shop or something in
your spare time, we could manage.”

I dumped an extra sweetener in my cup. Spoiled. My
son was very spoiled. Was it wrong of me to raise him to think all
he had to do was ask and I would rush to make more sacrifices?
Sure. So it followed that it was my fault he’d developed a sense of
entitlement. But having made the mistake, wouldn’t it be just as
mean to make a sudden break without giving him a chance to adjust?
I didn’t know. I had a lot of thinking to do. In my spare time.

“I’ll consider getting a second job. No promises. But
I’m still going into the ghost tour business.”

“Isn’t it risky to quit your job and start something
new? It isn’t as if you have some kind of safety net if the
business doesn’t work out.”

The back door banged open and Mama breezed into the
room. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her.”

I put down my cup and forced a smile. “What are you
doing here so early?”

“Don’t be rude to your own mother. I’ve come to visit
my new grandson and give him a gift.” Mama held up a little blue
suit with a tiny white bow tie on the collar. “Isn’t this the most
adorable thing you ever saw? Now what’s this about? I thought you’d
given up that foolish, foolish ghost hunting idea.”

“I have not. And now my son wants me to take on a
part-time job so he can quit his own job and have more time for
fun.”

“What’s wrong with that? His college experience
should be your primary concern, Susan. As his mother, you owe him
that, especially since his own father has deserted him to cavort
with that woman. Surely your son shouldn’t have to pay the price
for his parents’ failure to maintain their marriage.”

Yes, surely. It must be written that way in the Bill
of Rights. As far as Mama was concerned, I was supposed to strap on
a suit of armor and hoist myself onto a white horse so I could ride
to my son’s rescue. Maybe I should paste on a stoic look and ask
Lydia to give me one of her, “If you don’t rescue, don’t breed”
bumper stickers to stick on the horse’s butt.

“I’ll understand if you can’t help me out with the
extra money. But I think you’re making a big mistake leaving a
solid job at the pawnshop for something hokey like ghost
tours.”

Oh, God. My “solid” job at the pawnshop no longer
existed. But there was no way I could tell my family I’d been
fired.

“I’m a grown woman. I’ll work where I want to work.”
Where I’d been forced to work, but they weren’t ever going to find
out.

“Susan, you are being…” Mama broke off and looked
past me. Her expression went gooey. “There he is. There’s my little
man.”

I turned and saw DeLorean holding Cole and behind
her, Trinity stood on the stairs. An audience. Since Friday, I
hadn’t been without one.

“Christian, can we talk about this later?”

“It’s okay, Mom. I can suck it up and keep my job if
I have to.” He made a face that said he fervently hoped he didn’t
have to do any sucking up. “And I guess you can always go back to
the pawnshop if the ghost tour business doesn’t work out. I was
mostly worried about you selling the house.”

“Right. I’m sure it’s packed full of childhood
memories you don’t want to lose.”

“For your information, that animal, DeLorean’s
so-called dog, tried to break down your utility room door when I
walked past the garage.” Mama fixed me in a disapproving glare
until Cole got her attention by bopping her in the nose with his
rattle. I suppressed a smile. I could get used to having that kid
around.

“Kenny from down the street is going to fix the
fence.” I glanced at the stove clock. “In fact, I’m surprised he
isn’t here yet.”

“So am I. As I recall, the last time he worked for
you, you cooked him a whole stack of pancakes and he dug into them
like he hadn’t had a decent meal in a year. And speaking of
pancakes, I’m quite sure my younger daughter and her baby would
love to breakfast with me at the Bookstore Cafe.”

DeLorean made a big show of running her hands down
her slim body and looking horrified as if she’d detected an extra
half ounce or so of unsightly fat that had attached itself to her
hips overnight. “I don’t know, Mama. I haven’t lost the last few
pounds I gained while I was pregnant.”

Christian snorted. DeLorean shot him a look and
finally let Mama persuade her to go out—Mama’s way of apologizing
for upsetting her yesterday—and Kenny still hadn’t shown up.

I fixed breakfast using Trinity’s recipe for vanilla
cream pancakes. I ate one more pancake than I should have and
wondered for the third time in ten minutes what had happened to
Kenny.

“I really need that fence fixed.” I reached for the
phone. “I’ll call and remind Kenny.”

Christian popped out of his chair and patted his
stomach. “If all you mean is that little section where the wire is
torn loose, I can fix that. Won’t take me half an hour.”

“Really?” I could hardly believe what I was hearing.
Christian had never been into maintenance.

“Sure. Part of the reason you’re keeping this big
house is for my sake. The least I can do is help out.”

I didn’t realize how much he cared about the house
until now. But if the thought of me selling was enough to get him
to take an interest in keeping it up, I was in favor.

Nearly an hour later, long enough for Mama and
DeLorean to return, the fence was hole free. Trinity led Brad out
of the utility room and turned him loose for a romp on the grass.
He made one circuit of the yard, galloping and bucking like a rodeo
bronc, and then flopped on his back under an oak.

“Done and ready to go.” Christian had just come out
of the house with his and Trinity’s bags. He put them down and
hugged me. “’Bye Mom.”

Trinity waited for him to step back before she moved
in and wrapped her arms around me. “It’s been great meeting you,
Susan. And I thought you might like to know—I didn’t sleep with
Christian. I camped out in a sleeping bag on the floor.”