Motherhood Without Parole. Tanya Michaels
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It opened to reveal a young woman, seemingly taller than she’d been mere weeks ago, with green eyes that were huge on her angular face and frizzy wheat-colored hair. Neve didn’t speak, giving Kate a mild state-your-business glare.
“Hey,” Kate said. “I wasn’t expecting you guys yet or I would have been home earlier.”
Neve shrugged. “How could you know Pa-pa would get sick?”
Behind Kate, Lily made a small sound, and Kate kicked herself for not telling the other woman she was sorry to hear her dad was in the hospital. Basic etiquette! Kate was known to be the best person in the office for coolly dealing with sudden crises, but anything involving the kids threw her off her game. Well, it’s your first night. You’ll get better at this in no time.
And there was no time like the present.
“Can we come in?” Kate prompted, feeling bizarrely like a vampire who couldn’t enter without a specific formal invitation.
The girl moved aside in wordless grudging concession.
“We’re not keeping you up, are we, dear?” Lily asked, hovering in the background like the world’s largest butterfly. Nature similes seemed appropriate to the earthy, doe-eyed, dark-haired woman who didn’t look much like pictures of her late sister. “You’re probably exhausted.”
Neve remained silent as she sat on the corner of her double bed, but her nostrils flared delicately. Kate bit back a grin, guessing Lily had fretted over the kids all evening.
Kate suspected Paul’s sister-in-law considered her “aloof.” Then we’re even. Kate considered Paul’s sister-in-law to be potentially smothering.
“If you are tired,” Kate said, leaning against a small desk near the doorway, “we can talk in the morning. I just wanted to say hi, see if there was anything you needed.”
“Like what?” Neve’s tone was neutral, but there was an air of challenge in the way the teenager tilted her head, as if scenting ineptitude.
“Um…towels?”
“Thanks, but PJ and I know where everything is.” Her eyes narrowed. “Unless you’ve changed something?”
“No, everything should be in the usual spot. Well. I guess I’ll let you get back to, um, whatever.” Taking a stab at congeniality, Kate smiled in Lily’s direction. “Thanks for providing supper for them and tucking them—”
“It’s not like she had to help us into our jammies,” Neve muttered. On the contrary, the young woman was wearing silky mint-green pants with navy cuffs and a matching button-down nightshirt that made her look like a junior Victoria’s Secret catalogue model, slumber-party edition.
Kate met the girl’s sarcasm with a raised eyebrow and a quelling glance. At least she hoped it was quelling. “Why don’t you tell your aunt thank you before I show her out?”
“I can show myself,” Lily said crisply. “No need for drawn-out goodbyes when I’ll probably see you all again tomorrow.”
So soon? “We’ll look forward to it.”
“Good night, Neve. You know you can call me anytime you need anything.”
Neve nodded, and Kate grimaced inwardly. Oh, sure, Lily didn’t get any flippant retorts about towels.
Lily paused at Kate’s side. “You should feel free to call me, too, you know. Whenever you need help.”
The offer might have been more appreciated if Lily hadn’t sounded so damn sure Kate would need help. Immediately and often.
Kate would show them. Single mothers juggled jobs and children all the time, and she’d conquered every goal she’d ever set for herself. Motherhood would be no different.
CHAPTER 3
Kate’s first thought was that she was being watched—the kind of focused, silent stare that might come from a dog who needed to be let out for his morning constitutional. Slowly recalling that she didn’t own a dog, she struggled to open her eyes.
Her gaze immediately collided with a small boy’s. PJ. Reality clicked into place—the kids had returned and today would be her first full day alone with them. Her heart thudded in her ears. If she were awake enough to think rationally, she would tell herself she’d known this was coming. What difference did it make that it had happened earlier than expected? But rational had apparently hit the snooze button.
“Morning, PJ.” Since she was lying on her side and he was leaning against the mattress, his face was mere inches from hers. Unaccustomed to waking under close scrutiny, at least she’d managed not to scream, curse or otherwise traumatize him.
He blinked at her, his face a miniature of his father’s except for Heather’s hazel eyes. “Do you know how to make waffles?”
“Good question.” She yawned, trying to remember if they had any waffles in the freezer.
“Your breath is stinky.”
That’s what you get for standing so close, kid. Was she supposed to reprimand him for being rude or applaud his truthfulness? “Let me brush my teeth, then we’ll talk about waffles.”
“Okay.” He waited until she stood, then fell in step with her. “Neve says you probably can’t cook.”
Kate was irritated by this assessment, but the girl wasn’t entirely wrong. “I can cook some things.” Including a shrimp pasta dish that was her single cooking-for-a-date meal and a layered dip that was her fallback dish for social events where she wanted to make a good impression by bringing something. Unfortunately that repertoire got old fast and would be of no help for breakfast. She paused in the doorway. “PJ, I have to go to the bathroom now.”
“Okay,” her new shadow responded.
“Alone, all right?”
“Sure. I’ll wait here.”
Since she’d never been one to carry on conversations from inside the stall of public restrooms, it was a little weird to have PJ calling questions through the door.
“Do you ever watch cartoons?” he asked conversationally. “That’s what I was doing, but my show went off. Neve’s taking a shower and couldn’t play with me. She said when she’s done, she’ll find me some Pop-Tarts or something, but I want waffles. And she takes too long in the bathroom. Always brushing her hair and stuff. Are you done yet?”
When she opened the door, PJ practically fell onto the tile floor. It didn’t take a child psychologist to understand why he might be a little clingy right now. Kate would be patient with his being underfoot.
As long as she could avoid tripping over him, they would be fine. “So…waffles, huh? Let’s see what I can do.”
A search of the freezer revealed that there were no instant waffles to be found. Maybe she had a recipe? It dawned on Kate that she only owned one cookbook—a novelty gift on cooking for your lover. She gestured toward the family room, visible through the wall cutout above the kitchen sink.
“Do you want to watch television? Maybe you can find more cartoons. I can call you when the waf—when breakfast is ready,” she amended, hedging her bets.
“Okay.”
“Thanks, buddy.” Appreciating his agreeable manner, she surprised herself by ruffling his hair. When he shot her a warm, approving smile, confidence filled her. She could definitely do this.
The mothering part anyway. The waffling part grew fuzzier as she pulled one foreign apparatus after another from the cabinets in search of the waffle iron. Her attempt to separate eggs was only partially successful, but how much damage could a little yolk do to the recipe? She’d begun pouring lumpy batter into the iron when her stepdaughter suddenly made her presence known.
“What is that?”
Kate