Second Chance Mom. Emilie Rose
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There was nothing she could do about the rest of her. “G’morning. Thanks for bringing breakfast.”
He nodded and offered the paper tray. “Coffee, juice or both?”
She might as well make the best of the situation. “Coffee. Please.”
“There’s cream and sugar in the bag with the biscuits.”
“Um...thanks.” Rachel shifted on her bare feet and dug her toes into the floor. She debated excusing herself to grab a bathrobe. But the only one available had belonged to her sister. Had Matt seen Hope in that robe...or taken it off her?
A coil of something unpleasant started deep inside her. She blamed it on hunger. “Don’t you, um...have to get to work, or something?”
“I have a few minutes. I wanted to see if you needed anything.”
“We need everything, but I’ll hit the grocery store after I shower. Uh...thanks again.”
“Sure. I guess I can just take my breakfast to go.”
Realization dawned. Embarrassment scorched her cheeks. “Oh. You’re eating here?”
“Well, only if you don’t mind. Then I can give Chastity a ride to school to save Pam the trip.”
She mentally smacked her forehead. She hadn’t even thought about how Chastity got to school. “She doesn’t take the bus?”
“Hope wouldn’t let her. Pam or my mom carpool the kids.”
Hope had insisted Rachel ride the bus. “That’s nice of you, Matt. You guys head to the kitchen. I’ll join you as soon as I dress.”
Her clothes—except for yesterday’s outfit—were all wet in the washer. Her underwear and bra were drying in the bathroom after the hand wash she’d given them last night. She’d have to borrow something of Hope’s after all.
Reluctantly, Rachel entered Hope’s pristine room. She kept her eyes off the bed that her sister might have shared with Matt and dug through the dresser drawers until she found something she couldn’t picture her sister wearing. Sure enough, the trendy blue jogging suit still had the tags attached. Rachel slipped it on and zipped the jacket, hoping the fabric was thick enough to conceal her lack of undergarments. It felt incredibly soft against her bare skin.
She detoured to brush her teeth and hair. One look at her pallor and the purple circles ringing her eyes, and she grimaced. The blue fabric did nothing to help her complexion, but the shade would have matched Hope’s eyes perfectly.
Unable to delay any longer, she removed the tags, then returned to the kitchen. Matt and Chastity sat at the table with their heads bent in identical angles over separate sections of the newspaper. The similarities between them stopped her in her tracks. Chastity had inherited her father’s mouth and chin. How could Matt not see that? Had anyone else in Johnstonville noticed? It seemed too obvious to miss.
Chastity looked up first. “You made the paper. Your homecoming has been officially announced in the community everybody-wants-to-know-your-business section.”
Matt glanced up, then did a double take. His gaze raked her from head to toe. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his lips compressed. Ever conscious of her lack of underwear and borrowed clothing, Rachel slid into a chair.
Chastity jumped to her feet, pitched her trash into the receptacle, and then headed down the hall.
“Where are you going?” Rachel called in alarm over her chaperone leaving.
“To brush my teeth.”
Rachel didn’t want to be alone with Matt. He cleared his throat and studied his coffee, trying not to look uncomfortable when he obviously was.
“What?” Rachel asked, a tad defensively.
Matt cupped the back of his neck, then met her gaze. “I bought that sweat suit for Hope last Christmas. We were going to start working out together.”
She suddenly felt every inch of the fabric abrading her skin as if it were burlap. Picturing Matt and Hope together bothered her. A lot. She planted her palms on the table and rose. “I don’t have any clean clothes. I had to borrow something.”
He covered her hand. “Rachel, it’s all right. I doubt she ever wore it anyway.”
The heat of his flesh on hers stirred memories best left undisturbed. Her pulse hitched. She sat back down and grabbed the coffee. Her parents had never been much for physical displays of affection. She’d forgotten how much of a “toucher” Matt was. “I didn’t know—”
“It was stupid to give it to her. She hated exercise.”
“I know. I’m the one who was always working up a sweat.”
His deep blue gaze caught hers. “I remember.”
She hadn’t meant the comment sexually, but judging by the way his pupils expanded, that was clearly the way he’d interpreted it. Warmth pulsed through her.
Fourteen years ago, they’d spent their time together jogging, rock climbing and canoeing—all pursuits that led them to isolated places where not even the winter chill had kept them from getting naked and sweaty together. They’d planned to try a lot more outdoor activities when he returned home for spring break. But that had never happened.
Matt stood, breaking the spell, and gathered his trash. She thought she saw him wince.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but Chastity and I have to go if we want to be on time. Tardy bell’s at seven fifteen.”
Rachel took a mental step back, suddenly overpowered by Matt’s presence, the memories and regret. “Thanks for...all this.”
“That’s what neighbors are for. We look out for our own. Chastity, let’s go,” he called out. “I’ll be in the truck.”
The front door closed behind him, and Chastity thundered out with a “See ya” thrown over her shoulder.
“Wait. Do you need lunch money or anything?”
She stopped. “Yeah.”
Rachel dug in her purse, handed Chastity some cash, then watched the pair drive away. Looking out for one’s own, Matt called it. He had no idea.
Then the emptiness of Hope’s house enveloped her. This had never been Rachel’s home, but it had been as close to one as she’d ever gotten. And she had to let it go.
* * *
JOHNSTONVILLE HAD GROWN, but there was still only one grocery store, and her shopping excursion was every bit as uncomfortable as she’d expected. Fellow customers studied her as if she were a new strain of bacteria in the petri dish.
A few women spoke to her, but mostly they watched in silence through narrowed eyes. It was almost as if they expected her to strip naked and dash through the aisles or, at the very least, open packages and start eating before she paid for the goods. The latter she’d done back in the day. The former she hadn’t, although she’d been tempted—just to see if the manager’s bad toupee would fall off when he chased her out of the store.
“Why, Rachel Bishop, I do declare.”
Rachel identified the sacchariney sweet Southern drawl and cringed. Debra Sue Jensen, one of the girls who’d done their best to make Rachel’s time here miserable. The nasty rumors Debra Sue and her besties had thrived on had only increased once Rachel had caught Matt’s attention. Wishing she could ignore her and walk away, Rachel instead pasted on a polite smile and turned to face the debutante witch of Johnstonville High.
“Hello, Debra Sue.”
“What a surprise to see you back in town.” She sneered at Rachel’s wrinkled clothing as if she knew it had come off the laundry room floor. “That’s a new look for you. Isn’t it?”
Rachel