Meant-to-Be Mom

by Karen Templeton

  But it wasn’t. And he couldn’t.

  “And I thought we’d moved past that—”

  “For God’s sake, Cole—who am I to talk to some girl about self-esteem issues? About how she needs to respect herself?”

  His forehead knotted. “And where’s this coming from? Seriously, how’s helping out those girls any different than what you did with Brooke? Did for her?”

  “Because your daughter’s nothing like I was.” A sad smile curved her mouth. “I could fake it with her. From what Matt said, I’m guessing those girls...” Her head wagged. “They’d see straight through me, know I was a fraud.”

  “Yeah, I could really tell how much you were pretending with Brooke. And like you could fake anything with anybody. So I call BS. And why are you being so hard on yourself?”

  “Not hard. Honest.”

  “Hey. Look at me.” When she did, he said, “Everybody does stupid stuff when they’re young. You’re not some special snowflake, okay?” That got a tiny smile. “And besides, you weren’t the one who walked away.”

  “Which you wouldn’t have done if I hadn’t gone nuts on you.”

  “Okay, valid point,” he said, and she snorted. “Still doesn’t make either of us bad people. Temporarily insane, maybe. But not bad—”

  “I know I’m not bad, Cole,” she said, sounding tired. “At least, not anymore—”

  “Dammit, Bree—you’re human. And humans screw up. Own it, already.”

  At that, she finally cracked a real smile...only to immediately blow out a breath. “If it were only that easy.”

  Setting the bottle on the counter, Cole leaned back against it again, his arms folded as he frowned down at the floor. “What’s easy,” he said, “is hiding. Coddling your fears, refusing to face what scares you.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “Only, where does that get you? Nowhere, that’s where. Fear...it’s paralyzing. Believe me, I know. What I finally realized, though, is that unless we stare that sucker down, act in spite of it instead of because of it...it wins, doesn’t it?”

  “Wow,” she said softly, then angled her head, her brows drawn. “So...you’re not afraid anymore?”

  “You kidding? Now that I’ve got the kids full-time?” He shook his head. “It’s an ongoing struggle, believe me. But the moment I held Wes right after he was born, it hit me—over the sheer terror—that I had no choice but to be who this kid needed his father to be.” One side of his mouth tucked up. “And that sure as hell wasn’t who I’d always believed I was.”

  Outside, some bird sang its heart out while their gazes tangled, until, finally, Bree released a breath. “I do hear what you’re saying, but...I’m not there yet.”

  “Again, BS. Because who do you think planted that seed to begin with? Yeah,” he said when her eyes shot to his, “chew on that for a minute.”

  After rapping on the kitchen window to motion to the kids to meet him out front, he briefly met Bree’s still stunned gaze, then headed for the door. Before he could open it, however, the floor creaked behind him.

  “Thanks,” Bree said when he turned.

  “For...?”

  “Being a friend?”

  “Always,” he said softly, then started to let himself out the door. Only to look back and say, “And you know what else? If your experiences could benefit even one of those girls, keep her from going down a path she’s going to regret, who are you to withhold that from her?”

  And if she never spoke to him again, it was tempting to think her shocked expression had been totally worth it.

  * * *

  His words had rocked her.

  Not so much the words themselves, though, as the man saying the words, Sabrina thought as, two hours later, she continued sorting the junk in her old room into pitch, keep and donate boxes—although the keep box was definitely the least filled of the three.

  Funny how she’d always thought of herself as the stronger of the two in the relationship...until that embarrassing episode in the backseat of his parents’ Honda Civic, when she’d shown her hand—and pretty much everything else. At that moment, her fragile facade had crumbled, even if she hadn’t realized until then that her all-that-ness had been a facade. That everything she’d thought she’d known about herself had been a lie.

  And now, everything she’d thought she’d known about Cole.

  Slamming a decrepit doll that should have been tossed years ago into the garbage box, tears burned behind her eyes—

  “Bree?” Kelly called from downstairs. “You around?”

  Damn. She’d forgotten that everybody in the whole frickin’ family had a key. Swiping her cheeks, Sabrina shoved to her feet and tromped out onto the landing.

  “Up here. Packing.”

  Seconds later, her old friend started up the stairs, little Teri clutched to her chest. “I can’t get over how different the place looks already,” she said breathlessly when she reached the top. “I take it the Colonel’s not here?”

  “Nope. He’s over at Sunridge, checking out his new digs. Deciding what to take, I imagine.” Sabrina reached for the sleeping infant, whom Kelly hesitantly relinquished. Then the redhead turned, softly gasping at the stairwell’s wall, the dingy white paint ghosted with dozens of blank rectangles. “It looks so...naked. What’s happening with all the pictures?”

  “Some will go with Pop, I imagine. Yes, they will, won’t they, sweetie?” she said, gently bouncing her tiny, frowning niece. “And I guess we’ll divvy up the rest.” Her gaze swung to Kelly. “And to what do I owe the honor?”

  Her friend snorted. “Cabin fever. Kids are still with their grandmother, and I realized if I didn’t get out of the house I’d go bonkers. So baby-pie and I walked over. Well, I walked, she strollered.”

  “And of all the places you could have gone, you chose here?”

  Her cheeks pinking, Kelly shoved a tangle of curls behind her ear. “Matt said he invited you to go to the center. And that you seemed less than enthusiastic—”

  “Hey, want something to drink?” Sabrina asked, starting down the stairs with the baby. “There’s some fancy-schmancy bottled tea—”

  “And you seriously think tea’s gonna throw me off the scent?”

  Near the bottom of the stairs, Sabrina spun around, making Kelly practically snatch her cooing daughter from Sabrina’s arms. Folding those arms over the resulting emptiness, Sabrina said, “You know, I think I liked you better when you were all mousy and stuff.”

  “Sorry, cookie, that ship has sailed. Thank God. And I didn’t shove the stroller over every damn tree root between my house and this one to be put off. I have diapers. And an unlimited supply of breast milk. So I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s up with you.”

  Clearly, not an empty threat.

  Two bottles of tea later, Kelly sat cross-legged on the old family room sofa, her daughter at her breast, frowning at Sabrina. Who’d told her everything.

  As in, everything.

  “Wow. I can’t...” Her friend blinked. “Wow.”

  Curled up on the recliner, Sabrina’s mouth pulled tight. “Yep. And it was every bit as awkward and regrettable as you’re imagining.”

  “Uh, no. Some places, I refuse to go. But...” Her brows pushed together, Kelly slightly tilted her head. “Really? Not that you did it—although color me gobsmacked—but that you’re still beating yourself up over it?”

  “You weren’t around back then. I wasn’t a very nice person. To Cole, especially. No wonder he ditched me. Hell, I would have ditched me.”

  “And you were both kids who had no idea how to handle what had happened,” Kelly said gently.

  “We were seventeen, Kell. Old enough.” Sabrina let her head loll back onto the smooth, soft leather. “The funny thing is, it’s not like I’ve spent the past however many years doin
g the mea culpa thing about what happened. But between coming back here—and why I’m back—and seeing Cole again, and then Matt asking me to help those girls...I dunno. A lot of old junk bubbling to the surface, I guess.”

  Kelly frowned at her for a moment, then propped little Teri on her lap, rubbing her back until she let out a loud belch. “Honestly, you are so your daddy’s child,” she murmured, then laid the infant on the couch, where she promptly yawned and passed out, her wispy red hair quivering in the ceiling fan’s gentle breeze, and Sabrina thought she’d pass out from the sweetness.

  “So now you’re feeling sorry for yourself.”

  Sabrina’s brows pushed together. “For acting like an ass? Hardly. Mad at myself, though? You bet.”

  “Then you need to get over it. Because there is no ‘fixing’ the past. We can learn from it, maybe, but lugging all those old regrets around with us is simply dumb. And what Cole said about handling your fears...he’s right. The only way to ditch those suckers is to face them head-on. I’ve been there, honey,” she said softly. “Dude speaks the truth.”

  Smiling slightly, Kelly let her gaze drop again to her daughter, that adorable mouth sucking in her sleep. “It’s so, so easy to let the past trip us up. Or to let our mistakes define us. Our...choices.” As Kelly toyed with her baby’s hand, Sabrina thought about her friend’s first marriage, to a man she’d assumed would protect her, care for her. And his children. Didn’t work out that way.

  As if reading her thoughts, Kelly said, “Sure, I screwed up before, choosing Rick. Staying in my marriage probably far longer than I should have. And I’m not gonna say part of me doesn’t still regret that, at least on some level.”

  Her gaze met Sabrina’s again. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t think I deserve what I have now, with your brother. And frankly, if I hadn’t made those mistakes? I don’t think I would appreciate him—our life—half as much as I do. Also, if I were in your position, having the chance to share with kids at the center what I know now? You bet your butt I’d take it.”

  “And what makes you think they’d listen?”

  “Why do you assume they wouldn’t?”

  “Because if they’re like me at that age—”

  “And what if they are? Seems to me that would only make you relate to them even better, right?”

  Her words were close enough to Cole’s to make Sabrina flinch. As well as realize that wallowing in guilt wasn’t gonna cut it.

  A long, harsh breath left her lungs.

  “How long does this thing at the church go on?”

  Grinning, her friend gave her a thumbs-up.

  * * *

  Over the squeaks of a dozen kids’ sneakers as they shot hoops on the worn church hall floor, the loud clang! of the metal door opening made Wesley look over...and his stomach dropped. Although, truthfully? Dad’s friend looked as unsure about being there as Wes felt, her hands in her back pockets and her face pinched. Then his stomach twisted again when his sister jumped up from beside their dad to give Sabrina a hug—

  “Wes!” Matt called out, blowing his whistle. “Look sharp!”

  His head swung around a second before the ball bounced in front of him; Wes easily intercepted it, dribbling it down the court and slam-dunking it through the hoop. It wasn’t a real game, they were only fooling around and stuff, but Wesley felt his face warm at the smattering of applause. He wasn’t good at a lot of sports—and didn’t care—but basketball was okay. And Dad had already said, when they found their house, if there wasn’t a hoop they could get one.

  A thought that made him look back toward the bleachers, where Sabrina was talking to Dad and his sister, both of them looking at Sabrina like she had them hypnotized or something.

  Breathing hard, Wes stalked off the court to a refreshment table set up at the back of the hall. Nothing fancy—the cookies looked gross—but at least there was a cooler with bottled water and juice. He’d just twisted off the cap of a bottle of grape juice when some grinning black dude in baggy green basketball shorts, maybe a year or two older than Wes, came up to him.

  “Impressive,” he said, giving Wes a fist bump.

  “What? Oh. Thanks.”

  The kid stuck out his hand. “Elijah Hawkins.”

  “Wesley. Wes. Rayburn.”

  “You new?”

  “Um...kind of. I mean, my grandparents live here, so my dad and sister and I are hanging out for the summer, house-sitting.”

  “So you’re not sticking around?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe?” He shrugged.

  “Well, if you are? I’m on the team over at Hoover, we could really use you.”

  “Hoover—that’s the high school, right? Sorry—I’m only thirteen.”

  “Get out. Really? Tall as you are, I would’ve thought you were at least fifteen, maybe even sixteen. Well, look—my friends and I, we get up a game over here most nights, around seven or so. You’re welcome to join us anytime, okay?”

  “Uh, sure. Thanks.”

  With a wave, the guy loped back out on to the court, and Wes sighed. Wasn’t worth telling him they didn’t live close enough to the church for him to come over whenever he felt like it. Or that he’d probably be going to a private school. Which always sounded a little snotty, frankly.

  But right then, he thought as his gaze drifted back to the bleachers, he had far more important things to worry about. Anxiety spearing through him, he dumped his empty bottle in the recycling bin and ran back out onto the court, hoping maybe if he kept moving, he wouldn’t think.

  * * *

  “So, no girls here today?” Sabrina asked, sitting on the other side of Brooke with her hands tightly laced over one knee. And don’t think Cole hadn’t caught the What the hell am I doing here? look in her eyes—pretty much identical to the one in his daughter’s. In fact, the first time the child had unplastered herself from his side had been to hug Bree. Who, he noticed, had traded out her father’s shirt for a bright purple top that bared her arms and grazed her hips. And tight jeans which showed off those hips to perfection.

  And he could smell her perfume, slicing through the sweet tang of early summer air...mixed with the far less pleasant scent of sweaty teenage boys.

  “The girls are upstairs,” he said, and Sabrina looked at Brooke, who was wearing one of the new tops Bree had helped her pick out, something frilly and floaty and absolutely perfect for her.

  “How come you’re not with them?”

  “Um...because I don’t know them?”

  At that, Bree put an arm around the girl’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze, then said to Cole over her head, “And how come you’re not out there playing basketball with the guys?”

  “Me? Basketball? Get real.”

  She chuckled. “Wes seems pretty good at it.”

  “A trait he definitely did not inherit from me.”

  Another soft laugh preceded, “So no computer class?”

  “Only computer’s in the office. Something so old Windows doesn’t even support the OS anymore. Clearly your brother hadn’t thought that part through—”

  A shrill giggle floated down from the catwalk fronting a series of smaller rooms on the upper level, piercing the shouts and grunts from the game. Cole felt Brooke stiffen beside him as Sabrina looked up.

  “That them?”

  “Yep.”

  Another wave of giggles floated down. “They sound like fun, don’t you think?” she said softly, and Brooke stiffened even more. But it was pretty obvious, when Sabrina raised her eyes again, the battle going on inside her own head. Whatever had goosed her into rethinking things, he knew how much courage it took to break inertia’s hold on a battered psyche that only wanted to be left in peace. He was so proud of her he could pop. But he wouldn’t tell her that.

  Then, as one, a
nd still all yakking at once, the group headed for the stairs. After clumsily clomping down in shoes nearly as big as their heads, they walked toward the snack table set up at the end of the room, showing off an array of baby butts barely contained in short shorts or shrink-wrapped jeans.

  Dear God—they’d eat his little girl alive.

  “Come on.” Getting to her feet, Bree held out her hand to Brooke. “We’ll go together.”

  “Ohmygod, no! I mean, that would look totally lame!”

  “Any more lame than sitting over here with us?” she said, and Brooke’s gaze shifted to Cole’s.

  “She’s got a point, honey.”

  “So go on,” Sabrina said gently. “Introduce yourself. Bond over the cookies—”

  “I already saw them.” The kid made a face. “They’re, like, totally disgusting.”

  “Then use that,” Cole said. “As an ice breaker.”

  “A what?”

  “A way to get the conversation started.”

  “Good idea,” Bree said. “And what’s the worst that can happen?”

  “They all look at me like I’m stupid?”

  Cole’s chest cramped, hearing his old fears in his daughter’s words. But before he could figure out how to respond to that, Bree said, “Says the girl brave enough to turn her whole world upside down because the one she was living in wasn’t working for her. Somehow, cutie, I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.”

  And there it was, the old Sabrina whose ballsiness used to turn him inside out. Not to mention on. That still did, truth be told. But he wouldn’t tell her that, either.

  For a long moment, Brooke sat there, watching the girls. Until she suddenly stood, sucked in a breath and headed straight toward them.

  Cole leaned over, close enough to get another heady whiff of her perfume, and whispered, “You should give lessons.”

  Her brow puckered, she looked back at him. “In...?”

  “Mojo-finding,” he said, and she gave him a smile that zinged straight to The Land That Time Forgot.