TWO
AMBER
I GO STRAIGHT UPSTAIRS to my room as soon as Dad brings us home. I can hear Mom and Dad downstairs. He’s probably telling her about what happened at the party, about that dumb poodle. He didn’t used to care about that kind of stuff until Miss Perfect came along. It’ll be her fault if Jaden and I get in trouble over it.
From the sound of Mom’s voice, Dad’s the one in trouble. If her Mood Disorder makes her crabby with Jaden and me, it makes her bonkers with Dad. Over anything. He could say good morning, and she would chew his head off. He usually sucks it up.
Sometimes I think he’s scared of her, or maybe he puts up with Mom’s Mood Disorder so she won’t give him a hard time about seeing me and my brother. I want to believe that, a lot.
I flop down on my bed, thinking about the creepy hostess lady. She could have hurt Jaden. We were only playing with her silly dog. I don’t see the big deal. I figured that’s why people have those little poodles, to dress them up like dolls.
Anyway, a dumb poodle isn’t really a dog. It’s a toy. That’s why people call them toy poodles. Not like our Nina. She’s a real dog, an Old English Sheepdog. No one puts clothes and makeup on a dog like her. My mom says her breed is a working dog. If we had any sheep, Nina would keep them in line. As it is, she tries to herd us around. She can’t do it to me. I’m ten and too big, even for her, but Jaden’s only seven and real small, which is why I have to stick up for him.
It should be Mom’s job, but she skips stuff like that on account of her Mood Disorder. That’s what she calls it when she’s cranky and orders out instead of cooking. She’s either down in the dumps or running around, yelling at everybody. My dad doesn’t have a Mood Disorder. He has a town house. That’s what he calls it, even though it’s not in town. It’s in the suburbs, like our house. He also has Robin, his girlfriend. Miss Perfect.
We didn’t say goodbye to her, but she didn’t say bye to me and Jaden either. She just sat there in the front seat, next to Dad, with a prune face. If anyone asked me, I think her lipstick looked better on the dog. Maybe if she disappeared, we would get to see Dad more often but probably not.
Mom calls up the stairs that she’s going out. “Make sure you walk the dog!”
It’s always my job to walk Nina. Sometimes Jaden comes along, but he’s too little to manage her by himself.
“Amber?” Jaden’s pouting in my doorway. “I’m hungry. They didn’t have any kid food at that dumb party.”
“Come on,” I tell him. “I’ll fix us a treat.”We head for the kitchen, and I make s’more sandwiches. Since we don’t have graham crackers, I have Jaden spread peanut butter on slices of white bread. He concentrates so hard his tongue sticks out. Personally, I think peanut butter is a good addition to almost any dish. I try to dip the bread into a pot of chocolate I melted from the little wrapped candies Mom buys, kind of like making French toast, but the chocolate is too thick. As I remove the bread from the pot, some of it drips onto the cooktop and sticks to the burner. A lot of it coats the pan. I put the bread on plates and smear chocolate on the slices with a knife instead. The bread tears in a couple of places, and Jaden makes a face.
“It’s getting broken,” he complains.
“Don’t worry, Squirt,” I tell him. “We’ll cut the sandwiches into smaller pieces, like real s’mores, after we add the marshmallow.” I’m being creative, like the chefs on those cooking shows Mom watches. Lots of times they don’t have the right ingredients, either, but they have to make special dishes out of what’s available. That’s how I got the idea to use marshmallow topping, on account of we don’t have real marshmallows to melt over the fire.
I open the jar of Fluff and try to pour it onto the slices of peanut-chocolate bread. It’s too thick, so I scoop some out with a wooden spoon, but I miss the bread, and some of the marshmallow lands on the countertop.
“Amber, you’re making a mess.”
“Great chefs don’t worry about stuff like that.” That’s what I would like to be when I grow up—or an artist. They’re sort of the same thing, in my opinion. “We can clean up later.”
I press the bread slices together over the marshmallow. Some of it squirts out the sides, so I don’t push down too hard. Then I cut the sandwiches into fours. “Ta-da! I just invented indoor s’mores.”
Jaden and I pour ourselves glasses of milk, take our plates to the table, and enjoy our snack.
“Like it?” I ask.
“Yum!” He wipes marshmallow off his chin with his sleeve, smearing Fluff on his face and shirt. I should have put out napkins, but people don’t use them around campfires anyway.
I eat a bite. Pretty good. They should have had Chef Amber cater that stupid cookout. Then people would have had something decent to eat.
“Did you see the lady talking to Robin at the party?” Jaden asks.
I think about it, picturing her—tall with a skinny face and dark hair and eyes. “Gloria, that’s her name. I wonder what she talked to Miss Perfect about.”
Before Jaden says anything, Mom walks in. She looks around, and her face turns red. “What in the name of God have you done to this kitchen?”
“I’ll clean it up,” I mumble.
“Never mind that,” she says. “Go walk the dog.”
“Come on, Jaden,” I say.
It’s better for him to come with me when Mom’s having her Mood Disorder. We hurry off to get Nina’s leash before Mom says anything else.
THREE
ROBIN
ROBIN SAT IN ICY silence as they drove away from Vanessa’s house.
Finally, Ben spoke. “Vanessa vetoed the letter of apology. She thinks they’re too young to assume that kind of responsibility.”
Robin managed a tone 150 decibels below the intensity of her anger. “Amber’s ten. Jaden’s seven. How old were you when someone held you accountable for your actions?”
Ben grimaced. “You can’t compare their childhood to mine, Bird. My parents were together. I had stability. They—”
“Damn it, Ben! How long are you going to make excuses for them?” She retrieved her lipstick from the floor of the car and tossed it at him. “You should have made them apologize to me. Where do you think stability comes from, anyway? Divorce doesn’t justify inconsistent, permissive parenting.”
Ben glanced down at the lipstick sitting in his lap then back at the road. “Vanessa tries. Now that she’s on a mood stabilizer, maybe—”
“I’m talking about you, not Vanessa.” Robin had had her fill of his bipolar ex, who’d left Ben for a woman and now drew a hefty child support check each month despite their shared custody. It was best for the children, Ben said. “Why can’t you take a stand?”
“I do.” He didn’t sound like he believed it any more than Robin. “She has primary custody. If I’m the disciplinarian, I end up being the bad guy, and Nessie overrules me, anyway.”
Nessie. Like the frigging Loch Ness monster. “Poor Ben,” Robin muttered.
“I could do without the sarcasm.”
“Sorry.”
After a few tense moments, Ben said, “I’m wishy-washy—I know it. I don’t blame you for thinking it, Bird.”
His injured tone and pet name melted Robin’s resentment into guilt. She backpedaled. “Ben, it’s hard to be a parent, especially a single one. You’re a kind, thoughtful man, and I love you.” Although lately, she’d had second thoughts about that. “But I hate to see you...” She searched for a diplomatic phrase. “Trying to be Mr. Nice Guy instead of a real father.” Not so diplomatic.
Her eyes darted over and caught Ben’s stricken expression, his olive complexion blanching to yellow.
“Has it occurred to you that maybe I need help?”
Robin sighed. “I can’t be their parent. And I’ve logged enough hours of mothering young children. Besides, it would only backfire. Amber and Jaden would drive a wedge between us in about thirty seconds.”
“It seems they already have.”
<
br /> “Ben, get some therapy.” It wasn’t the first time Robin had urged him. “For them, for you, for the whole family—whatever it takes.”
“You know I can’t. Vanessa won’t go along with it, and I’m not allowed to take them to a shrink without her consent.”
They’d covered that ground before. “Then start without them and figure out how to get them in.”
“I’ll think about it.” Ben’s voice held more exasperation than conviction. He glanced at her. “Let’s drop it and go back to my place. We can still enjoy what’s left of the weekend. What do you say, Bird?”
Always the same nonending to the conversation. They would drop the subject until the next go-round, nothing resolved or changed. “No, Ben, I don’t think so. I need to pack, rest up for tomorrow.” She sensed his eyes on her but kept her gaze focused ahead. “Please take me home.”
“And then what, Bird?”
“I go to DC for two days, and you get to think about what I’ve said.” She drew a breath. “Then we’ll see.”
ROBIN CONTEMPLATED THE HALF dozen outfits she’d laid out on the bed. She had too many for a two-day trip, one for each time she’d started to call Ben to recant her ultimatum then changed her mind.
She sank into her bedroom chair. “Get a grip.”
Her iPhone rang. She retrieved it from the night table. Not Ben but her ex-husband.
“Hey,” she said warily.
David rarely called now that Sean could handle his own communication with his dad.
“How are you, Robin?”
“Fine. Packing for a business trip. I’m going to DC.” A note of pride crept into her voice. “For a briefing. Orientation,” she corrected. Not like I’ll be meeting with the joint chiefs. “I’m the admin for Mountainview Hospital’s new National Cancer Institute research program.” Let David’s perky little trophy wife—their former au pair—top that. “It’s a whole new approach to—”
“That’s great,” David interrupted. “Congratulations. Don’t worry. I won’t keep you. But I talked with Sean and wanted to call you.”
“Is anything wrong?” She couldn’t recall David’s last urge to call her. “I assume he’s getting ready for finals.” Robin knew that to be the case, having spoken to Sean that morning. But David’s call unnerved her, so she instinctively deflected.
“He’s great. Really, Rob.” His voice caught unexpectedly. “I’m proud of him. Aren’t you?”
“Of course.” She wondered where the conversation was leading. David’s two younger kids with Lena got much more of their father’s attention than Sean ever had.
“Isn’t it something? His being accepted for that summer research intensive?”
Robin stiffened. Sean hadn’t mentioned the acceptance.
“We did okay by him, didn’t we?” David asked. “I mean, you did. I called to tell you what a great job you did and to thank you for all those times you took up the slack for me.”
Robin silently cursed the moisture springing in her eyes. I’m too emotional today. She was letting men get to her when she could least afford the distraction. “He’s a great kid—young man.” Who apparently wouldn’t spend much of his summer with her. Not that she begrudged Sean his opportunity, but her empty nest felt lonely, and her hopes of building a new nest with Ben had taken a hit.
“At least we got one thing right, huh?”
She forced a smile, hoping it would come through in her voice. “Yes. We did.”
“And our boy has a girlfriend, I hear.”
Robin frowned. Another piece of information Sean didn’t mention. Maybe it was the kind of news boys told their fathers, not their mothers. She hoped so. She debated calling Sean and confronting him but thought it best to give him a chance to tell her himself. Besides, she had enough to deal with at the moment.
“Okay then. Take care, Rob. Have a great trip. Good luck with the study. I’m glad that mess back at Valley Memorial didn’t hurt your career.”
She ended the call and pressed her fingertips to the damp corners of her eyes. David’s timing sucked. It always had. She wished he hadn’t brought up Valley Memorial Hospital and the skeleton in her professional closet, especially right before her trip. It might mean bad luck.
Robin pounded her fists against the chair’s armrests. Pack. She had too much at stake.
The MATCH project represented a huge step in Robin’s nursing career. Dr. Richman, her boss, counted on her. The patients did, as well. And so, too, did the sponsors at the National Cancer Institute, the hospital administration. Maybe Sean didn’t need her anymore, but others did.
Screw Valley Memorial. Screw David. And as for Ben, he can damn well wait on the back burner for the next couple of days.
Robin got up and tackled her outfits with the laser focus of a cardiovascular surgeon. She selected two pantsuits, three blouses, a pair of jeans, and one dress for the cocktail reception tomorrow evening. Nothing too formal, it was a gently sculpted knit with a scoop neck and three-quarter sleeves. The dark-teal shade complemented her red-gold hair and gray-green eyes. Colors were her thing. Robin added the clothes to the wheelie carry-on bag that held her underwear and nightgown then returned the other outfits to her closet.
Done.
Her cell phone rang again, and she glanced at the screen. Ben this time. For a moment, Robin’s finger hovered over Accept. Not this time. She shut off her phone. No more drama tonight. She needed a time-out from Ben and a good night’s rest. A couple of sleeping pills would help. She had an early flight to catch.
FOUR
ROBIN
ROBIN RESTED HER FOREHEAD against the plane window, nursing a sleeping pill hangover and grateful to view an expanse of sky rather than her fellow passengers across the aisle. As usual, she’d arrived well before boarding call. She anticipated takeoff, eager to crank back her seat and grab a few extra winks during the flight. Maybe coffee would be better. She needed to be sharp for the NCI orientation.
“Good morning, Robin. Mind if I join you?”
Startled, Robin looked up at the woman standing before her in the aisle. She tried to place the face she’d seen—where?
The woman smiled.
Her white teeth stirred a memory. “You’re...” The name wouldn’t come.
“Gloria Reyes. We chatted at the party yesterday.”
“Ohh.” Robin flushed, recalling their hasty departure in the wake of Amber and Jaden’s poodle debacle. “Of course. Sorry. Uh, sure. Sit down.”
As Gloria settled into the aisle seat, Robin tried to make sense of the odd coincidence that she was on the same flight. “I—uh—I’m surprised to see you again so soon.”
“Yes, small world. I would’ve told you I also planned on traveling to DC.” Gloria gave a low chuckle. “But you left rather abruptly.”
Robin winced, exacerbating her headache. “Pretty terrible, huh?”
The plane’s audio crackled to life, filling the cabin with the inevitable drone of the takeoff announcement.
Gloria glanced around before placing her handbag on the seat between them. “Guess we can spread out. Almost as good as business class, huh?”
“I suppose.” Robin had never flown business class.
Raising the armrest on her left, Robin angled herself a few degrees toward Gloria. So much for her nap. Maybe she would still get a chance to review her notes about the questions she wanted to raise at the briefing. But after running out on the woman at the party, it seemed rude to spurn her company during the short flight. After all, she claimed to be a friend of Ben’s.
“I could see you were upset yesterday,” Gloria said. “Amber and Jaden are quite a handful. Aren’t they?”
Robin shook her head. “I’ve only known them a few months. Were they always this unruly or just since the divorce?” Chatting with Gloria might not be so bad. She might provide a sympathetic ear, a useful perspective.
“The divorce aggravated the situation, but Amber and Jaden have always had issues. Jaden has learning
disabilities, and Amber...” Gloria lowered her voice. “You know her mother has bipolar disorder, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Amber is the proverbial apple from the tree. Vanessa has her hands full.”
“But...” Robin hesitated. “Maybe it’s not my place, but she and Ben don’t seem very consistent with rules for the kids. When they stay with Ben, Amber lies around in his bed, watching TV and eating cookies, getting crumbs all over the sheets. She’s got her own room, but he never says anything to her.” Her resentment bubbled over. “And they’ve stolen stuff.” Robin’s cheeks burned as she envisioned her lipstick adorning the poodle’s face. She chose not to mention that particular theft to Gloria.
Gloria nodded. “It must be difficult for you, Robin.”
“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve urged him to get family therapy.” Rolling now. “And he makes excuses. He says Vanessa won’t go along with it. It’s become a bone of contention between us.”
“How unfortunate.” Gloria sighed. “I’d like Ben to find a solid relationship after all he’s been through with Vanessa.”
Her words rang true. Robin stifled a pang of remorse over refusing Ben’s call the previous evening.
“But he’s right about her dislike of therapists, I’m afraid.” Gloria shrugged. “She never likes what they tell her.”
Gloria seemed quite the expert on the Martin family. Robin searched her memory for how she might be connected to them but drew a blank. “How do you know Ben and Vanessa?”
“Oh.” Gloria waved her hand dismissively. “We go way back. I worked for Ben when he first opened his law practice. I handled his books. Then Vanessa and I hit it off. Mostly I’ve stayed in touch with her since the split.”
“I hope I haven’t said anything offensive.” Robin wondered why Ben had never mentioned the woman.
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