“In a very sick way.”
“No arguments there. But those times, when you’d come to me...it was my chance to feel like the strong one. The more-together one. And that felt good.”
Nearly twenty years, it’d taken him to find the strength to admit that. To himself, first. And now, to her.
“Really? My sob fests fed your ego?”
“Fed? Hell, kept it from starving.”
“That is so sad,” she said, her laugh soft as she shook her head. “On both our parts.”
“Whatever works, right?”
“Until it didn’t.”
“No. Until it didn’t.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said on a rush of air. “Really.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
From out front, they heard the chaotic chatter of the kids’ return, which sent the dogs into a yipping, wriggling frenzy. A minute later his sister shoved open the patio door and stepped outside, pale blue eyes glinting over high cheekbones as she gave Bree what she probably thought was a genuine smile.
“Brooke’s gone to change, she’ll be out in a minute. So. Sabrina Noble. My goodness. It’s been...a while.”
“Hey, can I get you anything?” Cole said, shooting his sister a Be nice glare.
“Thanks, but, no.” Shoving her graying, left-to-its-own-devices hair off her forehead, Diana made a face. “I’ve got to haul my butt to the mall myself to start looking for an outfit to wear to that interview next week. Since soccer-mom chic won’t cut it in the corporate world.”
There was no disguising the terror in Di’s voice. Currently attired in a polo shirt and skort combo—her uniform from April to October, when it was replaced by the same corduroy pants and pullover sweaters she’d been wearing since college—his tall, broad-shouldered sister had always had what their mother had diplomatically referred to as an “athletic” build. And, as with the rest of the family, absolutely no fashion sense. Or desire to accrue any.
“Got any idea what you’re looking for?” Sabrina said kindly, and Di belted out a slightly hysterical laugh.
“You kidding? I’ve been a stay-at-home mom for twenty years. Seriously, other than the same black dress I’ve been trotting out for funerals for the last decade, and a blue one for weddings and Easter...I have no idea where to even start.”
“Then, why don’t you come with Sabrina and me, Aunt Di?” Brooke said from the patio door, making both women look toward the girl, all long hair and even longer legs, wearing a top and shorts that even Cole in his rampant cluelessness could tell was way too infantile for her.
“Oh, sweetie, I wouldn’t want to interfere with your day,” Di said, except Bree grinned and said, “That’s a great idea!” and Cole thought Please, God, no.
His sister and Bree stared at each other for a good five seconds, the thoughts tumbling around in their heads perfectly obvious to everyone in the room except, he imagined, his daughter, before Bree said, “Seriously, I’m really good at multitasking. And trust me, I know where the bargains are.”
At the word bargains, the corners of his sister’s mouth curved up. “You don’t say.”
“Oh, but I do. Style is power, baby. But real power—” Bree’s grin turned downright wicked “—lies in never paying full price for anything.”
And that, apparently, did the trick. Broke the spell. Whatever. Because now his sister was looking at Bree much like Cinderella probably had her Fairy Godmother. But, frowning, she turned back to Brooke. “If you’re sure—”
“It’ll be fun, Aunt Di. Won’t it, Sabrina?”
Bree chuckled. “Sure. Fair warning, though—expect to spend a lot of time in the dressing room.”
His sister’s forehead scrunched even more. “But you’ll hand me things to put on, right?”
“Until you scream for mercy, yep. Let me go potty, and I’ll catch up to you at the car...”
When she came back down the hall, however—and between her ponytail and those ridiculously hot white pants, damned if she didn’t look at least ten years younger—Cole stopped her. “My daughter, I can understand. Maybe. But my sister? Why on earth—?”
“Because, atonement,” Bree said softly, picking her purse up off from the floor where she’d dumped it earlier.
Cole felt his face warm. “I thought we agreed we were both guilty.”
“Yeah, but I screwed up first. And maybe I feel like...” She glanced away, her mouth in a thin line, before looking back at him. “You know how there’s paying it forward? Well, maybe I feel like I need to work backwards. Clean up a few old messes.”
“You don’t have to prove anything to me, Sabrina. And certainly not to my sister—”
“Maybe not. But I do have to prove something to myself. Or at least, do some good instead of wallowing. So, humor me, okay?”
After they drove off, Wes—in baggy shorts and a scuzzy, tattered T-shirt that easily rivaled anything Cole would have worn at that age—came up beside Cole as he stood outside the still-open door.
“You sure that was a good idea?”
“It’s a shopping trip, bud,” Cole said, giving his son a brief smile. “Specifically, a shopping trip without either of us.”
Wes nodded. “Good point.”
But he could still feel the boy’s tension. His wariness.
“She’s only here for a few weeks,” Cole said gently, refusing to acknowledge the pang accompanying the statement. “And whatever makes Brooke happy, right?”
That got a shrug. Considering the other options, Cole took it. “So. Just you and me, kid. What do you want to do? And be sure to pick something your sister hates.”
After a moment, the kid grinned, then suggested the noisiest, crash-bangiest, most plotless flick currently playing.
“Perfect,” Cole said, giving his son a high five, praying all those explosions would blast Sabrina Noble right out of his skull.
* * *
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” Cole’s sister said as they trekked back to the SUV, their arms loaded with shopping bags, “but that was almost fun. Bargain hunting kicks butt.”
Sabrina laughed. They’d been out for hours, and she could tell both Brooke and Diana were exhausted. But blissfully so. Then my work here is done, she thought, surprised at the flicker of disappointment the idea evoked. “Welcome to my world. You’re both pretty much set through early fall, although you’ll need to do this all over again come September.”
Yanking open the back door to shove all the bags inside, Diana laughed at Brooke’s groan. At Sabrina’s suggestion, they’d hit up a nearby outlet mall, and both her charges had done her proud. Brooke, especially, had dutifully tried on every item Sabrina suggested, often gaping at her reflection in shocked delight.
“I’m starving,” the girl now said, clicking her seat belt behind Sabrina.
“You and me both, baby,” Diana said, then looked over at Sabrina. “How about you?”
“Don’t you have to get home?”
“I texted Andy,” she said as Sabrina pulled out on to the highway. “He and whatever boys are around will probably have pizza. They won’t suffer, believe me. Hey,” she said, nodding toward the glowing sign of a major chain restaurant, “will that work?”
“Do they have chicken fingers?” Brooke asked.
“I’m sure they do.”
“Then, yeah. Okay.”
* * *
Diana waited until the waitress had taken their orders and Brooke excused herself to go to the ladies’ room before folding her hands in front of her on the table and spearing Sabrina with her periwinkle gaze.
And Sabrina thought, Jeez, cookie...a little slow today, are we?
Sure, she’d thought it odd earlier that Diana walked the kids back to Cole’s when she lived all of three house
s away, but it hadn’t occurred to her until this very moment that the woman had actually finagled her way into tagging along on the shopping spree, for whatever purpose lay behind her Gotcha now, bitch expression.
Very clever. Scary as crap, but clever.
Taking a sip of her iced tea, Sabrina said, “You know, I had thought of suggesting you tweak your hair. But now I’m thinking that soft style really flatters your face. A trim, maybe, but definitely leave the silver. It’ll make people take you more seriously—”
“Break any of their hearts, and your kneecaps are toast.”
Slowly, Sabrina set down her tea. “And it took you four hours to say this?”
“Like I was going to risk pissing you off before you helped me with my wardrobe. But I mean it. They’re all in a really tender place right now. Especially the kids. Do not mess with them.”
The server brought them their salads. Sabrina drizzled her ranch dressing over the crisp greens before saying, “I know they are, Diana. And even if I didn’t, I have no intention of ‘messing’ with anybody right now.” At Diana’s dubious expression, she sighed. “I was supposed to get married next month. My fiancé broke it off a couple of weeks ago.”
“Oh. Damn.”
“Yeah. So believe me, I’m feeling a little tender myself.”
Across from her, Diana glanced over her shoulder, then leaned toward Sabrina and whispered, “Like you were back in high school?”
“Excuse me?”
“When the two of you—” she lowered her voice even more “—hooked up.”
When Sabrina could breathe again, she said, “Cole told you that?”
“Not in so many words, no. And not right away. But when I kept nagging him about why you guys weren’t hanging out anymore, he turned as red as that beer sign over there. Not unlike the color you are now. So I put two and two together.”
“And came up with what, exactly? Since you more or less admitted you guys didn’t actually talk about what happened, I’m guessing you missed the part about how he was the one who ended the relationship. You can ask him, if you don’t believe me.”
Diana continued the staring thing for several seconds. “So you’re saying you didn’t go nuts on him?”
“It was a lifetime ago, Diana. And whatever happened between us, it was mutual.” Her mouth flattened. “Stupid as hell, but mutual.”
His sister stuffed a chunk of romaine lettuce in her mouth, then said around it, “Don’t get me wrong,” she said, “I had a great time this afternoon. I like you. I liked you then. Because I could see how good you were for my brother. Until—”
“Diana, jeez. Moot point, okay? Not to mention Cole’s a big boy now. He doesn’t need either of us to protect him anymore.”
“It’s the kids I’m more worried about.”
Sabrina’s fingers strangled her fork. “And even suggesting I’d ever hurt a child only goes to show how little you know me. And seriously—how ticked would Cole be if he knew we were even having this conversation? So back off. Now.”
Finally, his sister cracked a smile. “And there’s the Sabrina I remember.”
“Yeah, well, ten years in New York haven’t exactly mellowed me,” she said, and now Diana laughed out loud, only to loudly exhale.
“I meddle because...well, you understand. Family. And our parents...” She sighed again. “It’s not that they didn’t care, but...”
“I know. I remember.” Sabrina paused, then said, “Cole was very lucky to have you looking out for him.”
“Except then I got married and moved away, and...” Diana’s mouth flattened. “Professionally, Cole has done so well, it’s scary. But personally...” Her head wagged. “And if anybody deserves good things, it’s that kid. Okay, man,” she said at Sabrina’s frown. “Did he tell you? About the game?”
“The game? He did say something about still designing them, like as a hobby or something, but...what?”
Diana held up one finger, then twisted to pull her phone from her purse, tapping the screen several times before handing it across the table. “You ever play this?”
“No, I’m not really into this stuff. But my nephews, absolutely, all the time—wait.” Her eyes shot to Diana’s. “This is Cole’s?”
“Yep. He developed it about five years ago, almost as a joke, and it went viral.” She took back her phone. “Fortunately, he took my advice and trademarked it first. Not only the game, but the characters, the ‘worlds,’ all of it. He thought I was nuts. Then. Now—” She grinned. “Not so much.”
“Wait—so all the related toys and junk I see all over the place—”
“He gets licensing fees for. Yes, indeedy.”
“Jeebus,” Sabrina said, and Diana chuckled.
“Exactly. Who do you think sent Mom and Dad on that trip? Not Andy and me, that’s for sure. Nor do they have to worry about retirement, even if they live to over a hundred. And Wes and Brooke will be able to go to any school they get into. The kid’s no Bill Gates, but he’s not hurting... Hey, honey,” she said as Brooke returned, plopping down beside her aunt and smiling shyly at Sabrina as their entrees arrived. She could see nothing of Cole in the girl, with her green eyes and straight blond hair—unlike her brother, who reminded her so much of his father it was startling.
But what she could see, in that smile, in those eyes, curled up inside Sabrina like an affection-starved kitten...much like what she’d seen far too often in the eyes of too many fosters who’d passed through when she’d been a kid herself. That What now? look.
Will anybody ever love me enough?
To keep me?
To want me?
To not screw up?
Except, although Brooke and her brother had been hurt, they hadn’t been abandoned. And never would be, not as long as Cole was around, she thought on a pang that nearly took her breath. Gosh, she doubted they even understood, at least not yet, or not fully, how incredibly fortunate they were to have their dad to pick up the pieces, to make them whole again.
To love them.
Sabrina, however, knew exactly how fortunate she was to have this strong, brave, good man in her life again.
Even if for only this single, precious moment.
* * *
At the flash of car lights in the picture window, Cole lifted his eyes from his e-reader as the dogs crowded around the front door, woofing and wriggling. Outside, car doors slammed over waves of women’s laughter, his daughter’s higher-pitched giggles—a sound that made him smile. He set the reader on the side table by his father’s favorite chair, standing as the door opened and Sabrina and Brooke burst inside, practically invisible behind an army of shopping bags.
“You guys leave anything for anyone else?” he said, and Brooke giggled again, her face flushed. She was already wearing one of her new outfits—at least, Cole didn’t recognize it—skinny black jeans with a filmy, sleeveless top with bunches of roses all over it. And sparkly black flats. They dumped the bags in the middle of the floor, sending the dogs into a sniffing frenzy.
“We might have gotten a little carried away,” Sabrina said over the crackling and rustling as the dogs investigated, her gentle smile for his little girl punching him right in the gut. The same smile, he remembered, she used to give her baby sister. Or any other little kid, for that matter. Now she turned that smile on him and his heart cramped. “And you should see your sister’s haul. No more mom jeans.”
“Yeah, Aunt Di actually has a butt now. Where’s Wes?” Brooke asked, totally oblivious that her father had choked on his own spit.
“Next door. I think maybe he and that Keenan kid hit it off.”
“Oh. That’s nice. I guess.”
You’ll find friends, too, Cole wanted to say, even as he knew that would only make things worse. “So. This one of your new outfits?”
“Turn around.” She did, slowly, arms stiffly at her side, hands fisted, before meeting Cole’s gaze again. And all he could think was—as every ounce of breath left his lungs, never to return—if she looked like this at twelve, scrub-faced and modestly attired, God help them all when she hit sixteen. Still, somehow, he smiled. “You look great, sweetheart.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
The girl released what sounded like a hugely relieved sigh, even as Sabrina said, “See? What’d I tell you? Gorgeous is gorgeous.”
“Couldn’t’ve said it better myself,” Cole said, and Brooke flung herself into his arms to bury her face in his chest. His most excellent little surprise package, he thought, his eyes stinging. Then she pulled back, her own eyes bright.
“Wanna see what all else I got?”
“You bet. Fashion show, right here. Five minutes.”
Her smile lighting up the room, Brooke pushed through the sea of snuffling dogs to gather up the bags, bump-bumping down the hall to her aunt’s old bedroom, her canine companions close at her heels. Sabrina laughed, making Cole turn. And if he’d had any breath left, it would have beat a hasty retreat, too. Yes, even though her hair was a mess and her lipstick was eaten off and there was some sort of food splotch on the front of her blouse. Or maybe because of all of that. Because she was real.
Because she was Bree. Still.
“Thank you,” he said, and she grinned at him.
“You kidding? We had a blast.”
“So I gathered. And she looks...” He hesitated, searching for the right word. “So confident.”
“Doesn’t she? But that’s the thing about clothes, when they showcase who you really are inside. Which ain’t easy for a twelve-year-old, who has no idea who she is. Inside, outside, any side. Not a kid, by no means a woman...it’s rough, that age.”
“But you nailed it.”
Meant-to-Be Mom Page 8