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“Jeannie picked out every paint color, every stick of furniture in the place. What somebody does with it after I’m gone is none of my concern. But as long as I’m still here, it’s my home. And damned if I’m going to spend whatever time I have left in the house feeling like I’m in somebody else’s.”
“So why’d you redo the kitchen?”
He huffed a breath through his nose. “Because even I had to admit it was falling apart. Half the drawers didn’t even close anymore. And the old range was down to two functioning burners. So I caved, let some kitchen designer convince me that an upgrade would add value to the house.”
“I’m sure it did.”
“Except I hate it. Looks like a damn showroom. Or a commercial kitchen. Not like someplace a family wants to hang out. Frankly, I’d change it all back if I could. Except they tell me you can’t even get those green appliances anymore.”
“And thank God for that,” Sabrina said, and her father humphed. “Pop...you need to make a decision here. A real one, I mean, not this half-assed thing. Otherwise you’re wasting both the Realtor’s time and yours. If you don’t want to sell, then don’t. I mean it,” she said at her father’s startled look. “Take the place off the market, tell Sunridge you changed your mind—”
“And forfeit my deposit?”
“If it comes down to that, yes. For heaven’s sake—for once in your life, go with your gut, not only your head. If it doesn’t feel right to leave, don’t. It’s your house, your life. Your right to reverse course. But don’t move forward with something only to save face, or because that’s what everyone’s expecting—”
Her gaze lowered, her uneaten food a blur. She felt her father’s touch on her wrist, as gentle-rough as his words. “Why do I get the feeling we’re not talking about me anymore?”
She jerked her hand away, even as she laughed. Hyenaesque though it may have been. Because she had seen the writing on the wall with Chad. Like neon-hued graffiti, actually. But in spite of the troubles with Robbie, she’d clung to the relationship for far longer than she should have. Because she was so, so tired of...
Of failing.
“Hey,” she said, smiling. “You’re the one who can’t decide whether to sell his house or not.”
But after she’d retreated once more to the room that still bore the scars of her youth—a hundred tiny pushpin pricks from long-gone posters, a red stain on the windowsill where a candle had melted and overflowed—the cold, hard truth came right with her, that she’d fallen into the very trap she’d sworn to avoid.
Of letting desperation make a fool of her.
Exactly like she had with Cole, all those years ago.
She hurled her old teddy bear across the room, where it bounced off the closet door with a pathetic little squeak.
* * *
“So Sabrina’s back?” Cole’s sister said, stretching plastic wrap over the leftover salad.
Yeah, he wondered how long it’d take before she brought up that particular subject. Figuring it best to jump the gun before the kids said something at dinner, he’d casually mentioned she’d been at the Colonel’s.
“Yep,” Cole said, warring with himself about having a second piece of chocolate cake. With caramel filling. Sitting there on the counter, taunting him like some barely clad sex kitten in an X-rated dream. Squelching a sigh, he looked back at Diana, while in the family room beyond, her youngest and Cole’s two were watching some zombie flick, the expressions on their faces not a whole lot different than the characters on the screen. “Visiting, or something. Had no idea she was going to be there. Or she, us. What’re the odds, right?”
“How is she?” Diana asked stiffly, and Cole smiled, even as he silently cussed out his brother-in-law for abandoning him to the she-wolf that was his sister. Some flimsy excuse about a crisis at his restaurant.
“Down, sis. That was a long time ago.”
Her eyes cut to his, then away again when she turned to grab the cake cover and rattle it over the plate, hiding temptation. “Just asking.”
Even though she’d been married and a mother already when it became obvious Bree was no longer a part of Cole’s life—having been the center of it for so long—it was Diana who’d seen through his lousy attempt at stoicism and realized her baby brother was hurting. Never mind that he’d brought most of the pain on himself.
“We talked, Di. Watched the kids play with the Colonel. That’s pretty much it. Hey,” he said to the mother of all skeptical looks, “you remember that dude you dated your senior year? What was his name?”
Di frowned for a minute, then said, “You mean Stuart? Gosh—I haven’t thought of him in years.”
“But back then you two were pretty tight, as I recall.”
He couldn’t tell if Di was more shocked or amused. “You were seven, for pity’s sake. How would you...?”
“I might’ve heard Mom and Dad talking. Sounding worried.” He shrugged, enjoying his sister’s blush. “So tell me—if you were to run into Stuart now, would you still feel anything?”
“What? No! Why would I?” Cole lifted an eyebrow, and his sister sighed. “One word—Andy. Who wiped all thoughts of other guys out of my head the minute I met him. Also, Stuart didn’t break my heart.”
“Bree didn’t—”
“Cole. Please. Memory like a steel trap.”
“Then how come you’re not remembering that I broke it off?”
“Damage control doesn’t count. And besides...” Her gaze gentled. “Then there was Erin.”
She stopped there. Thank God. Although there would have been a time when she wouldn’t have.
“Look,” he said, “we ran into each other, we talked, she’ll go back to New York and I’m here. With my kids.” He glanced into the family room. “Speaking of damage control.”
His sister leaned over to kiss him on top of his head. Like he was five, for God’s sake. Then she looked into the family room, her mouth curved down at the corners.
“How are they doing?” She turned back to him. “And before you answer, I’ve survived three teenagers. My BS detector is top-of-the-line.”
“You tell me. Since you watched them like a hawk all during dinner.”
“This can’t be easy on them, leaving Philly, their friends...”
“They’re cool with it, you guys are three houses away and it’s only for the summer.”
“And then?”
“Haven’t gotten that far.”
“So you’re not going back to Philly.”
Not if I can help it, he thought, then smiled for his concerned sister. “Keeping our options open for now. Di—it’s been a week. Give us a second, okay? Although I am thinking—if we stay here—of putting them in Sedgefield.”
That got another disapproving look. “Public school was good enough for us, as I recall.”
“For some of us, maybe.”
His sister sucked in a short breath. “Sorry—”
Cole held up a hand, cutting her off, then refolded his arms over his chest. “Sedgefield’s a better fit for the kids than any of the middle schools here, I checked. And I can afford it.” Which his parents hadn’t been able to, not on their professors’ salaries. For years, Cole had wondered how different things might have been, if he’d gone there. Although of course now he knew bullying could happen anywhere. And if he had, he wouldn’t have met Sabrina...
Thereby saving himself a whole boatload of heartache.
“And they were already in private school in Philly, anyway,” he said, seeing a mind-numbing, body-exhausting workout in his near future. Because if he dreamed about Sabrina tonight, he was a dead man. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said when Brooke slogged into the kitchen and collapsed into his arms. He’d never thought of himself as the kind of daddy to actually have a daddy’s girl, but what did he know? “Movie over?”
She shook her head. “But my eyeballs were about to fall out of my head, it was so disgusting. Why do boys like stuff like that?”
Diana chuckled. “A question I’ve been asking myself for years. Want another piece of cake?”
“Di—”
“Have you looked at your daughter recently? I swear she’s grown two inches in the week since you guys got here. Kid needs fuel.”
“And I did eat two helpings of veggies,” Brooke said, all big green eyes. “And a salad—”
“Okay, okay,” Cole said, laughing in spite of himself. And honestly, it wasn’t as if either of his two showed the slightest indication of having the same weight issues that had plagued Cole for so long—equating food with comfort, as some sort of compensation for whatever he’d believed was missing from his life. His own parents had turned a blind eye, for reasons Cole would never understand. But damned if he was going to do the same thing.
While Brooke downed her second piece of cake and the boys finished up the movie, Diana packed up enough food to last them until fall.
“You know,” Cole said, the bulging bag knocking against his thigh as they walked outside and the kids raced ahead “I really hate it when you pity me.”
“That’s not pity, it’s looove.” Cole groaned; his sister laughed before giving him a one-armed hug. “I’ve missed you, twerp.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” And amazingly enough, he meant it.
Brooke let out a shriek at something Wes said to her, and Diana chuckled again. “They’re going to be fine, honey,” she said softly. “And so will you.”
“I am fine, Di.”
She gave him one of her looks. “No, you’re not. And don’t argue with me, I know you a helluva lot better than you know yourself. You need someone, Cole.”
Yep. Still the same pain in the ass as ever.
“I have someone. Two someones, in fact.”
“Not what I mean, and you know it.” She paused. “I didn’t regret for one minute my decision to stay home with the boys. But if Andy hadn’t been there, too...” Cole could feel her gaze on the side of his face. “Raising kids is hard. Raising them on your own—”
“Is not beyond the realm of possibility.” Bemused, Cole lowered his eyes to his sister’s. “And if you even try to fix me up, I will kill you.”
She laughed. “Not to worry. Every woman I know who’s even reasonably the right age is either married, insane or a skank. Sometimes all three.”
“You need new friends.”
“Tell me about it. But you need—” she rubbed his arm, her voice gentling “—to put yourself out there, sweetie. And don’t give me any flak about having the kids full-time. Because they’re always welcome here while you—” her mouth twitched “—search.”
Smirking, Cole ignored the headache trying desperately to take hold. His sister meant well, she really did. But even if he had the time—or energy—to pursue a relationship, right now was about the kids’ needs. Not his. Because damned if he was going to do to them what their mother had.
“Thanks for the offer, but we’re good.”
Then he hotfooted it down the walk before she could regroup. A talent at which Diana excelled.
* * *
Despite his aching head—which the kids’ near-constant bickering behind him for the past ten minutes hadn’t helped—Cole smiled for the trio of wriggling, curly-tongued pugs swarming Brooke and Wes when they got back to his parents’ house.
“Let ’em out,” he said, dumping his keys on the same little dish on the table by the front door that had been there forever, as the beasts raced through the modest bungalow and through the now-open patio door. Cole quickly unloaded the bag of food, stuffing what needed to be refrigerated into the old white side-by-side before joining kids and dogs outside.
The yard wasn’t particularly large, but it backed onto a wooded parcel separating the neighborhood from a secondary highway. Dimly, Cole could hear that same hum of traffic that used to lull him to sleep at night as a kid, that had served as a comforting backdrop to now-forgotten conversations.
Maybe not so forgotten.
Expelling a breath, he shoved his hands into his pockets as he stood on the cement patio, willing the almost-cool evening breeze to unclog his brain, relax the muscles strangling the base of his skull.
Ironically, his sister’s prodding about the future—the one she saw for him, anyway—had only jerked awake another scene from his past, of a scrawny sixth-grade girl who’d had no trouble verbally smacking down that trio of bullies, all twice her size, who’d been making Cole’s life a living hell. Trying to, anyway. Since in reality their ass-hattery hadn’t bothered him nearly as much as it apparently had her.
His mouth curved in spite of himself as he remembered the good times, of how natural and easy things had been between them.
Until an influx of rowdy hormones drowned out every ounce of intelligence and common sense Cole had possessed, blinding him to who, or what, Sabrina had become—
“Dad? You okay?”
He hadn’t even realized Wes had plopped into one of the patio chairs, long legs stretched in front of him, his pant hems hovering north of his ankles. A trip to the mall was in order, Cole thought, suppressing a shudder. “Sure.”
“Really? Because you’ve been, I don’t know. Weird.”
Out in the yard, Brooke threw a ratty old tennis ball for the dogs, laughing when they all tripped over each other trying to get it. Smiling, Cole crossed the patio to sink into the chair next to Wes’s, then leaned forward to link his hands between his knees. “Hey. Weird is my middle name.”
The kid snorted a laugh through his nose. “Okay, weirder. Seriously, on the way back from Aunt Di’s? You didn’t even tell Brooke and me to stop messing with each other.”
“And you’re complaining?”
“I’m... Well, no. I guess. But...” Something made a peeping sound in the woods. Frog? Bug? “I thought you said you and Sabrina had been best friends?”
“We were.” Brooke flopped on the grass in the fading light, then writhed in laughter as all three dogs assaulted her with sloppy kisses. “Actually, she saved my butt when we were kids. Thinks she did, anyway. Took on a bunch of bullies who apparently took issue with the way I looked.”
“Took on? As in, beat them up or something?”
Cole laughed. “Bree’s a lot tougher than she looks, but...no. Read ’em the riot act, though. And pointed out her twin brother, who was easily twice her size. And theirs. But like I said, we hadn’t seen each other in years. And I certainly wasn’t expecting to see her today. Or her, me.” He glanced over at his son. A breeze ruffled the kid’s too-long hair, almost as curly as Cole’s. He looked back out over the yard. “So it was definitely strange.”
“So, what? You guys just hung out together and stuff? You didn’t date?”
“No,” Cole said mildly. Truthfully. Although with a slight, if insistent, pinch to his chest. “We spent most of our time at the Colonel’s. But sometimes here. Where it was a lot quieter.”
“Quieter?”
“The Colonel and his wife Jeanne had adopted four kids—including Sabrina and her twin brother—and then had a baby of their own right about the time Bree and I met, in middle school. Add to that everybody’s friends...place was definitely hopping.”
“And Mom couldn’t even handle two kids,” Wes muttered, and Cole’s gaze snapped back to his son. He’d given Bree a severely edited version of the story, of course. Partly because he was hardly going to air his—or, in this case, his ex’s—dirty laundry to someone he hadn’t seen in almost twenty years. But partly because he was ashamed, truth be told, that he hadn’t made it his business to find out what exactly had been going on. Then again, how would he have known, if the kids didn’t tell him?
But in the past few days, the truth had leaked out bit by bit, how often Erin would leave them on their own, or forget to pick them up, or even when she was there, retreat to her room and computer rather than interacting with her own children. He’d assumed, since she’d fought for primary custody, they’d be her priority. Instead, they’d apparently been so far down the list they were barely on her register.
His eyes burning, Cole reached over to clamp his hand around the back of his son’s neck. God knew Cole was still jerking awake at night, heart pounding at the realization that no one was coming to get them on Sunday. That he was it. At the same time, no one was ever going to take them away, either. Ever again. Or leave them alone, or ignore them, or let anything—or anyone—come between them.
