Motherhood Without Parole. Tanya Michaels
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it had been natural to have a small, private wedding. The fact was, if Lorna got a look at how well-to-do Paul was, requests for family loans were sure to follow, even if they were cleverly disguised passive-aggressive requests.
But Lily hadn’t asked for money as far as Kate knew, and it was beside the point now since they had none to lend. Kate didn’t think she needed to start clipping coupons—yet—but once Paul came home, who knew how long it would take him to find a good replacement job and what sort of salary he’d be offered. She doubted another CEO position would fall into his lap, especially with his now murky record.
“Could we go to the pool?” PJ asked cheerfully. “It’s better than Florida. No jellyfish.”
Apparently Neve had been stung one year at the beach and PJ had spent the past couple of summers afraid to go back in the water. To PJ, jellyfish were the new Jaws.
The posh neighborhood included membership to a large pool and private clubhouse. They could spend the afternoon there without spending a dime, not counting the semiridiculous check she and Paul had written to the mandatory homeowners’ association in January.
“Now that sounds like a good idea,” Kate agreed. “What about you, Neve? Want to take advantage of the last couple of weeks of summer? It will be fall before you know it.”
“I like fall,” the girl said. “Everything’s dead then.”
Chipper sentiment.
Just as Kate began to worry that Neve was headed for teenage years filled with Goth clothing and suicidal poetry, Neve added, “It’s easier on my allergies. Summer’s not so bad, but spring is miserable.”
“Ah.” Come to think of it, Kate should probably make it a point to learn more about both children. As far as she knew, no one would go into anaphylactic shock at the sight of peanuts or shrimp, but there were dozens of potential missteps she would rather avoid. Especially those that might lead to emergency room visits. She had one dizzying moment where she realized how much she didn’t know. Hell, Patti had left more explicit instructions when Kate house-sat for her once than Paul had for turning over his children.
But that’s just because he trusts you and knows you can do this. Whereas Lily’s little pop-ins, unsolicited advice and frequent offers to assist seemed to stem from a suspicion that Kate wasn’t cut out to be a mom. Well, by the end of the month Lily would just have to admit she was wrong.
“I guess going to the pool would be okay,” Neve allowed, sounding a lot like royalty who’d just deigned to spend the afternoon with commoners.
“So why don’t we all change into our bathing suits and meet downstairs when we’re ready?” Kate had been working too many hours to loll around poolside this summer, but she assumed the suit she’d taken on her honeymoon still fit.
In the privacy of the master bathroom she tugged the supportive top into place and checked her butt in the mirror. Assured that the navy-blue one-piece with dark green detailing wouldn’t send anyone running from the pool area, she tossed some sunscreen and a paperback novel into a shoulder bag, along with several oversize towels. Once she got downstairs, it struck her as comically ironic that she’d worried about her suit being indecent.
While PJ looked the way an eight-year-old boy should—scruffy but adorable in baggy SpongeBob trunks and an orange tank top with a frayed hem—his older sister looked as if she might be auditioning for the lead in Lolita.
“Where did you get that bikini?” Kate hadn’t meant to sound shrill, but her stepdaughter didn’t seem to notice the tone.
Neve stretched, showing off the suit. Not that there was enough material to make it a legitimate article of clothing. “I spent Spring Break with my friend Krista, remember? She and I got matching bikinis, only hers is green.”
Kate had assumed Neve was developing curves, as young women normally do, but she’d never seen them showcased in scraps of hot-pink, with white plastic rings holding together the bra cups and connecting the front and back fabric on the bottom. Lord, seeing his granddaughter in this getup was probably what landed Lily’s father in the hospital.
Kate took a deep breath. “I’m all for fashion, Neve, honestly. But until your dad gets back, I’m trying to do the best job I can to…to fill in for him. Do you think he’d want you to go to the pool dressed—” undressed “—like that?”
The adolescent shrugged, the casual gesture at odds with the intense expression in her eyes just before she ducked her head. “I don’t think he’d care. He’s never commented on my clothes. Or much else about me.”
Oh, Paul. Kate had heard both his arguments for boarding school and Lily’s criticisms against it and had sided with him. After all, Newsome was touted to be one of the best educational facilities in the country, with devoted staff and excellent programs. But she had a feeling that his daughter at least was less than thrilled about being shipped off while he carried on with his post-Heather life.
For the first time, she was concerned about how the kids would react when they were told their father didn’t want them to visit. He planned on telling them himself on the phone—an announcement she wasn’t in a hurry to preempt—but it would be some time before he was allowed a call.
“I don’t suppose you have another suit?” Kate asked.
“No.” Neve jutted her chin out, and Kate recognized the gesture for the stubborn challenge it was.
“All right.” What the hell. In two weeks summer would end and the bathing suit would be a moot point. It didn’t make financial sense to buy a new one the girl would outgrow by next year’s beach season. “Should we walk to the pool or drive?”
“Seems silly to use the gas for such a short distance. There’s an energy crisis, you know.” Even now that the bikini objection had been withdrawn, Neve’s tone made it clear she hadn’t forgotten the censure and wouldn’t be forgiving anytime soon.
“Walking it is, then.” Kate glanced at PJ. “That okay with you, buddy?”
He nodded, volunteering no opinion on his sister’s wardrobe or North American fuel limitations.
When they arrived at the pool, Kate had to admit Neve’s suit no longer seemed out of the bounds of decency. At least not in comparison to the others on display. The Hansons’ summer au pair was sunbathing in an ice blue string bikini while the two Hanson boys, older than PJ and younger than Neve, tried to drown each other in the deep end. In another lounge chair a teen had removed her top and appeared to be sleeping on her stomach, wearing bikini bottoms that bordered on being a thong. Kate had the urge to cover PJ’s eyes.
The boy, however, wasn’t old enough to care about scantily clad young women. “Do you have any coins, Kate?”
“He likes to practice swimming at the bottom to pick them up.” Neve pulled a book out of her shoulder bag and took up residence under the shade of a table umbrella.
With Neve off in her own fictional world and PJ diving for dimes, Kate half wished she’d brought her laptop. She had some writing she could be doing, but working seemed to defeat the “quality time” spirit of the outing. Besides, the computer screen was damn hard to read in direct sunlight. But maybe tonight she’d put together some kind of schedule, times when she could be with the kids but also stay ahead on her office work. With a little multitasking, there was no reason her office performance had to change at all with her newest circumstances.
“Kate! Why, Kate St. James, is that you?”
Oh, hell. Lowering her sunglasses slightly, Kate noticed a trio of women entering the gated poolside area. Leading the pack was Celeste Parker, treasurer of the neighborhood association.
Kate managed a smile. “Yep, it’s me all right. In the flesh.” Although not quite so much of it as Celeste.
While the redhead wore a modest sarong-style skirt over the bottom half of her one-piece, she was spilling out of the low-cut top. No doubt to best showcase the breasts