Carter shrugged. “I’ll get there.”
“Why take the test if you’re not interested?”
“I am interested.” If the man talking had been anyone but his boss, Carter would have told him to back off.
“Then act like it. Take the next opening. You can’t play forever. Maybe it’s time to grow up.”
Carter glared at Killian. “What I do is damned important. I make a difference.”
“You could make a bigger difference as detective. You know it and I know it. So what’s holding you back?”
* * *
SATURDAY MORNING STARTED with complete chaos. Ten five-year-olds running through the open classroom, their parents talking in groups and Rachel sorting through supplies left in the small yard off her classroom.
She knew nothing about lumber or tools, so she wasn’t sure if she had everything she was supposed to have. While she could figure out which wood was which from the size, she wasn’t sure if she had the right braces or not.
“Need some help?” Carter asked as he stepped out into the yard.
“Desperately,” she said and held out her list. “Do I have all this? I’ve never made a booth before and to be honest, I have no big plans to make one now. That’s why you and the parents are here. Well, some of you will help me with the card kits, but that’s the easy part. It’s mostly sorting and counting.”
She was aware she was talking too much, which frequently happened the first time she saw Carter after any kind of absence. She wanted to explain that, technically, it wasn’t her fault. There was something about looking at him that unhinged her brain. Something that made her remember what it was like to touch him and kiss him and...
He moved close and smiled at her. “You about wound down?”
If she said no, would he stop her talking in the most interesting way possible?
“Pretty much. The kindergarteners have never had to have a booth before. I was very comfortable in that position. Suddenly, someone decided we were capable, or at least the parents were. I know nothing about building. Can you take charge of this and coordinate the work? In theory, the build should take no more than two hours.”
“I’ve built cabinets. I can handle a festival booth.” He glanced over the instructions. “It’ll be fun. Are the kids supposed to help?”
“If they want. I’m going to have some of them with me, putting together our card kits.”
“Which are?”
“Greeting cards. Some are preprinted and some can be made by hand with decorations and trims.”
He took a step back. “Don’t make me do that.”
She grinned. “I promise. You can stay out here and be macho with the wood and paint.”
“Perfect.”
He smiled at her and she felt her insides shimmy a little. Despite her urge to throw herself at him, she drew in a deep breath and walked toward the classroom. “Let’s go gather the troops and divide into teams.”
Back in the classroom, Rachel explained their two projects and let the parents and kids divide up themselves. She felt someone tugging on the hem of her T-shirt and turned.
“Morning, Christian,” she said to the small boy. “Are you excited to help build the booth?”
Christian nodded. “Is he your boyfriend?” he asked, pointing at Carter.
Rachel’s mind went blank. Under the circumstances it was a reasonable question and one she should have expected. “Ah, well, to be honest...”
“Yes,” Carter said easily.
Christian giggled. “Are you gonna kiss her?”
“Maybe later. If she’s very good.”
A couple of the mothers exchanged glances as if they wouldn’t mind being rewarded by Carter for excellent behavior.
“Okay, then,” Rachel said, ignoring the heat on her cheeks. “Let’s get started.”
Carter led the construction crew outside while she put the card kit folks to work in the classroom. She had set up several stations for the kids, showing how many of each items went in to the various bags. White cardboard signs showed five buttons inside a bag at one station and three bows in another bag at a different station.
Soon kids and parents alike were counting greeting cards and filling bags. When she was sure everything was going smoothly, she walked to her desk and pulled out her parent list. There were a few she wanted to talk to today. It was more casual than an official parent-teacher conference.
“Helen, do you have a second?” Rachel asked a pretty, dark-haired woman who was helping with the bow counting.
“Sure, Rachel.”
Rachel let the way into the classroom next door. It was empty and quiet.
When they were seated on the two adult-sized chairs Rachel had brought in earlier that morning, she leaned forward.
“I’m a little worried about Anastasia. She’s a wonderful girl. So bright and friendly and she loves learning. But she’s obviously exhausted. She falls asleep during storytime nearly every day.”
Helen stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean. We put her to bed at nine. That should be enough sleep.”
“She’s only five. I think an earlier bedtime might help. Does she try to stay up later? Some kids are natural night owls.” Rachel didn’t think that was the problem, but she’d found it was usually more productive to start by getting the parent on her side than to make an outright accusation.
Helen shook her head. “Anastasia is always ready to go to bed when it’s time. In fact, if we’ve been out after seven, she falls asleep in the car on the way home.”
“Then I would suggest moving her bedtime back fifteen minutes every four or five days until you find a time that gives her enough sleep. It’s probably going to be about seven-thirty.”
Helen’s eyes widened. “But that’s not possible. She has her classes.”
“Hmm, yes. She’s mentioned that she has a lot of activities outside of school. Dance, Spanish, some kind of martial arts.”
Helen nodded. “Gymnastics, piano, soccer. We have a schedule. Some are in the afternoon, but a few are in the evening. She couldn’t attend them and get to bed earlier.”
Rachel tried to figure out the most tactful way to make her point. “I think it’s wonderful when caring parents take such an interest in their children. I wish all parents were like you. But sometimes kids get overscheduled. Anastasia needs time to just be a little girl. She needs time to play and dream and imagine as well as learn Spanish.”
Helen opened her mouth, then closed it. “We have her doing too much, don’t we? I’ve wondered. It’s just both Martin and I have siblings who are gross underachievers. We didn’t want that for Anastasia. We want her to have every advantage, but also to understand that she needs to push herself.”
“Pushing her now won’t teach her that lesson,” Rachel said gently. “Anastasia is exceptional because of who she is on the inside, not because of what she does. She’s not going to be your little girl for a very long time and that goes so quickly. I would hate for you two to miss these special years because your daughter is never home.”
“I’ll talk to Martin,” Helen said. “Maybe we can back off on the classes.”
“Don’t give them up all together,” Rachel said. “It’s good to expose her to a few things. Maybe try a couple this semester and next semester try some different ones. Then you can sit down as a family and figure out what you think is important and she likes to do.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“You’re more than welcome. Anastasia is wonderful. I’m glad she’s in my class.”
Helen smiled. “I am, too.”
The other woman left. Rachel made some notes on her file, then glanced up when Carter walked into the room.
“Impressive,” he said. “I came to tell you the booth is coming together, but I did
n’t want to interrupt. You handled that really well.”
His praise made her feel a little bit floaty inside. “Thanks. I’m with the kids for several hours a day. Because I’m not the parent, I can usually see both the good and bad that’s happening. Unfortunately, parents tend to get stuck on one or the other.”
“Helen got the message.”
Rachel closed her file and stood. “I hope so. I hate seeing these kids dragging because their parents plan for them to be the next Secretary General of the United Nations. But balance is tricky to find.”
Carter tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “My mom did a great job at it. We were all convinced we were her favorite. She made us believe we could do anything.”
“My parents were like that, too,” Rachel said, remembering the loving support they’d offered her. “I wanted to be an astronaut/ballerina and no one ever said it was a dumb idea. Of course I was only twelve and no one takes career plans seriously at that age. There was this one time that they—”
Unexpected tears filled her eyes. Rachel was so surprised, she stopped in midsentence.
“What’s wrong?” Carter asked.
“I don’t know.” She blinked several times, but the tears wouldn’t go away. “I was going to say something about my parents, but I know if I do, I’ll burst into tears.”
“I can handle it.”
She sniffed and smiled at the same time. “I appreciate you saying that. It’s just I don’t understand. I don’t cry very much, especially not about the loss of my family. It’s been fourteen years. I’m sad they’re gone, but I’ve recovered, emotionally.”
“Hey, it happens.”
He drew her close and wrapped his arms around her. She let him because, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she needed the comfort.
“This is crazy,” she murmured against his shoulder as tears trickled down her cheeks. “I have no reason to cry. This is not like me.”
“You’re having a baby,” he said.
She drew back and stared at him. “I hardly think that’s a reason to break down when I talk about my parents. I know the situation is stressful, but speaking as someone who is firmly in denial about the whole thing, I can’t believe that’s why I’m losing it.”
She wiped her face and tried to think happy thoughts. Maybe she should get a kitten. A fluffy white one that would play with a ball of yarn. Only the image of it caused her eyes to fill again.
“I’m not saying it’s because you’re stressed,” he said. “It’s hormones. Trust me. I have three sisters who have all been pregnant at least twice. You might not want to think about being pregnant, but your body is seriously busy producing all kinds of chemicals. You’re reacting to them.”
Was that possible?
“Are you saying I’m going to be an emotional basket case for the next seven months?”
“Possibly.”
“I’ll never survive.”
“Sure you will. Besides, I’ll be right here. You can cry on my shoulder anytime.”
She laughed, which helped ease the need to sob. He cupped her face in his hands and used his thumbs to wipe her cheeks.
“Better?” he asked.
She nodded, then found her gaze lingering on his mouth.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Me, too. Think anyone would mind?”
“Hurry up,” a small voice called out. “He’s gonna kiss her.”
Rachel turned and saw Christian and his friend lurking in the doorway. “Great. An audience.”
Carter laughed. “I don’t do requests. Rain check?”
“Absolutely.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
CRISSY SET THE pitcher of iced tea on the table, then put her hands on her hips. “Let me just say for the record, I’m bitter about the lack of wine, okay?”
Noelle smiled. “I’m only twenty. I couldn’t drink the wine anyway.”
“You could be with us in spirit,” Crissy grumbled. “But you’re right. So, Rachel, what’s your excuse?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“I meant for getting pregnant.”
Rachel didn’t have an actual answer for that. Fortunately the phone rang...again.
Noelle’s smile broadened. “That’s probably Dev,” she murmured. “I’ll take it in the other room.”
Crissy stared after her. “We’ve been here less than two hours and this is his third call. It’s amazing he can get any work done.”
“I’m thinking he’s not,” Rachel said, wondering what it would be like to be that in love. She’d wanted that for herself, had tried twice. So what had gone wrong? Did she just have bad taste in men or did she not know how to have a good relationship?
“I’m sure he misses her,” Crissy said as she poured Rachel a glass of iced tea. “I still can’t believe they’re so much in love, but they are. Talk about lucky.”
Crissy sounded both happy for her friend and a little wistful, which Rachel could relate to.
“She’s glowing,” Rachel said. “Now that they know the baby’s all right, they can be happy.”
“Are you happy?” Crissy asked. “You haven’t said much about your own pregnancy.”
For good reason, Rachel thought. “I’m doing okay. Physically I don’t feel any different. At least not yet. I had an emotional meltdown the other day, which isn’t like me, but I guess now I have hormones to deal with.” She leaned toward Crissy. “Honestly? I can’t seem to get my mind around the fact that I’m having a baby. I’ve tried to think about it as far as what all I have to plan for and deal with, and when I do I start to panic. It seems easier to ignore the whole thing. But that can’t be good, either.”
“You have time,” Crissy told her. “What? Seven more months? Trust me, as you begin to completely lose control of your body, you’ll get that it’s real.”
Rachel grinned. “Lose control? You make me feel like aliens have invaded and will soon be bursting out.”
“Pretty much.”
“You have personal experience in the matter?” Rachel asked teasingly.
Crissy shrugged. “I’ve been doing some reading so I can relate to what Noelle’s going through. And now you.” She reached in her purse and held up a bottle of water. “But to be on the safe side, I’m avoiding any liquids that come from a tap. What is it with you two?”
“We’re just lucky,” Noelle said as she walked back into the kitchen and took her seat at the table. “Dev says hi and promises he won’t call again until after you guys are gone.”
“I’m not a big believer in happy endings,” Crissy said, “but looking at you is kinda making me a believer. You look good in love.”
“Thanks. I feel good. Now I just have to get you two married off.”
Crissy scooted back her chair. “I’m fine being single. Did I mention my charming cat? He’s more than enough company, thank you very much. I hate first dates enough to never want to go on one again!”
“You’re going to be a tough one,” Noelle said. “I thought we’d start with someone easier.” She turned to Rachel. “So how’s Carter?”
Rachel laughed. “He’s fine, but you’re wasting your time setting us up. It’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?” Noelle passed around the large bowl of Chinese chicken salad. “You said he’s a great guy.”
“He is. He’s funny and charming and I think he’s dated nearly every age-appropriate woman in a tristate area.”
Noelle nodded. “You don’t think he’s good husband material.”
Rachel considered the statement. “Actually, I think he is. He cares a lot about his family. They’re all wonderful. He’s responsible and caring. He helped me out with my fall festival booth last weekend, which was great.”
“He sounds perfect,” Crissy said as she
took a roll. “Which makes me instantly not want to trust him. But I’m the cynical member of the team. What’s your excuse?”
“For one thing, he’s made it really clear that he’s not interested in anything long-term. Carter doesn’t believe in romantic love. Not for himself anyway.”
Noelle dismissed the problem with a flick of her fingers. “That just means he hasn’t met the right someone yet. Which could be you. But I don’t understand. Doesn’t it bother you that he doesn’t want to get married for the sake of the baby?”
“Not really,” Rachel admitted. “I know that decision was right for you, but it’s not right for me. I don’t need to be married to have a child. Carter will be part of the baby’s life and that’s enough.”
Crissy and Noelle exchanged a glance that told Rachel they’d been discussing this without her.
“You’ve always talked about wanting a family,” Crissy said slowly. “I thought you meant in the traditional sense. Husband and kids.”
“I do want that. Just not with Carter.”
Noelle took some salad for herself. “At the risk of sounding stupid, why not? If he’s all that you said, how can you keep from falling in love with him?”
* * * * *
Noelle is wise beyond her years. That was THE question Rachel has been ignoring. Well, her best friends—and her heart—want an answer. In Circle of Friends Part 4, it’s decision time...
#1 New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery invites you to celebrate the event of the year with her brand-new story!
With Joy, Love and a Little Trepidation,
Courtney, Sienna and Rachel Invite You
to the Most Emotional Wedding of the Year…
Their Mother’s
Find out what happens in
Daughters of the Bride
A must-read for anyone who has survived the wedding of a sister, a mother, a daughter—as told by the master storyteller of the genre.
Order your copy today!
* * *
“Susan Mallery is one of my favorites.”
—#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber
Circle of Friends, Part 3 Page 10