by Shirley Jump
“And why would I want to get good at being with kids?”
“Because someday, Miss Duff, you might just want to try marriage again.” His gaze met hers, and something hot and dark burned in their depths, something she couldn’t read. “There may be a man who captures your heart. A man you want to stay with. A man you want to make a future with. So why not take a taste of the future today?”
“Because—” She cut off the sentence. She couldn’t finish it, not here. Not in front of all these people. That was a little more information than the entire Lawford legal community needed to hear.
And besides, the days when she told Nick Gilbert her plans for her romantic future were way in the past.
“Angela,” Nick said, waving the little girl over. “I want you to meet a friend of mine.”
Angela bopped across the grass, her blond curls springing up and down with her steps. She beamed up at Carolyn. “Hello. I’m Angela.”
“This is Carolyn,” Nick said.
“Miss Duff,” Carolyn corrected.
“Miss Duff?” Nick arched a brow.
“Well, children should learn to be respectful. And formal. If boundaries aren’t put in place—”
“For Pete’s sake, Carolyn, this is supposed to be a casual event. And we’re making friends here, aren’t we, Angela?” He bent down and smiled at the girl. She nodded, curls bouncing like they were on a moonwalk. “Friends go by first names.”
“But—”
“This isn’t a court case, Carolyn. It’s a picnic. Loosen up.”
Was that the problem? She’d been too stiff? Too formal with Bobby? But she knew no other way. Had no experience with anything but court. There, she excelled. Here...
She couldn’t be more out of her element if she’d been swimming with sharks.
“Here,” Nick said, thrusting a potato sack at her. “You and Angela take this one, and I’ll go make friends with Bobby. And us boys will challenge you girls.”
Angela laughed, the sound tinkling in the summer air like coins dropping into a jar. “Oh, the girls will win. Girls always win.”
“Want to bet a piece of pie on that?” Nick said.
“Sure!” Angela turned to Carolyn. “We can beat ’em, can’t we, Carolyn? Oh, I mean, Miss Duff.” Her little face sobered, the mirth wiped away with those two last words.
Carolyn had never felt more like a party pooper in her life.
“Sure we can, Angela,” Carolyn said, holding out the sack so that they each could step inside. “And...call me Carolyn.”
CHAPTER FIVE
NICK REACHED THE FINISH LINE, breathless and in a big pile of arms, legs and laughing small children and uncomfortable lawyers. He bent over, helped Bobby to his feet. “Not bad for a couple of amateurs, huh?”
The little boy beamed. “That was fun. I never did that before.” Bobby’s chest expanded with pride. “And we won. You must be really good at this.”
“Nah, just lots of experience. My dad and my brother are the true reigning Lawford potato sack champs.” Nick winked at Bobby.
“Your dad does this with you?” The boy’s face fell six inches, and something clutched at Nick’s heart.
“Well, he did, but now he’s too old. And frankly,” Nick said, pressing a hand to the ache in his back, “I think I might be, too.” That struck him—that he was getting past the age where he should be doing this kind of thing, and yet it didn’t bother him as much as he’d expected it would. He’d had fun with Bobby, and for a second it felt like Bobby was his nephew. A cousin. Maybe even his own kid.
Now that was a weird sensation. Never before had Nick imagined having kids of his own. That had been one of those thoughts a million miles off in the future, like retirement planning. He shook it off. He wasn’t the kind to raise a family. He’d tried marriage once, screwed it up and had no intentions of going there again.
Bobby and Nick started to walk toward the grandstand, where Mary was holding a trio of trophies for first, second and third place. Across the line of sack racers, Nick caught sight of Carolyn and Angela. He chuckled. Poor Carolyn. She looked about as comfortable out here as a porcupine at a balloon factory. She was back to being the stiff, straitlaced Bostonian he remembered from college. Getting her to loosen up had been half the fun of dating her. But apparently, Carolyn had gone right back to who she used to be—and that rigid persona didn’t mix well with kids.
“It must be nice,” Bobby said.
“Must be nice, what?” Nick asked, drawing his attention back to the boy.
“To have a dad who shows you how to race like a sack of potatoes.”
Nick’s gaze strayed to Carolyn again, and he could have smacked himself upside the head. Of course. Everything about the day made sense. Her discomfort around the children. Her difficulty connecting. Her reluctance to join in on the crafts, the games.
It wasn’t just that she’d lived in Boston. Or that she wasn’t used to being around kids. Carolyn had much, much more going on than that.
Nick may be clueless when it came to what little girls might like for toys, but he had at least grown up in a two-parent family. Two parents who were still alive, still sitting at either end of the Thanksgiving table.
He hadn’t watched his father get gunned down buying a gallon of milk. Then been sent to live with a woman who’d hated his existence.
He hadn’t forgotten that hole in Carolyn’s past, but he hadn’t quite realized the impact of it on her, not until today. How hard it must be for her to be around children who’d experienced similar tragedies, to listen to other kids and parents who were working hard to maintain their families against tough odds. And then to see all these kids who were lost souls in foster families, being brought up by strangers?
Regret ran through Nick with a stab. How could he have been so cavalier as to suggest Carolyn was being formal? Lawyerish? Damn, he was a moron. Later, he vowed, he would apologize. Find a way to make it up to her. And most of all, help her make the whole day run much easier.
“Oh, look, Nick. Ours is gold. Do you think it’s real?” Bobby was asking.
Nick followed where Bobby was pointing at the six-inch trophy, simply a gold-embellished pillar. He doubted it was anything more than real aluminum, and that the sheen came from gold spray paint. But he’d been a kid, too, and knew what it meant to a boy of that age to believe in the impossible.
He bent down to Bobby and smiled. “Absolutely. It looks real to me.”
“I wish my mom could see it.” Bobby sighed. He squinted against the bright sun as he looked up at Nick. “She was too sick to come today. So she stayed home. Lots of days she’s too sick. But maybe when I bring this home, she’ll feel better?”
Another slam into Nick’s chest, that brought him up short. Drew him a thousand miles away from this being just fun and games and into something so much more. Something that could—
Have an impact on this kid’s life.
An awesome sense of responsibility weighed on Nick’s shoulders, a weight he’d never felt before. He tried it on, sure at first that being so used to not reporting to anyone, not being in charge of anyone but himself, that he’d resist the feeling of being needed by anyone.
But...
He looked at Bobby, at the kid’s wide eyes, waiting for an answer, for someone to reassure him that his world would be okay, and decided he could do this. For this one day.
“I’m sure she will,” Nick said. He might not be able to make up for Bobby’s ill mother, for the boy not having a father—or for the potato sack races that Carolyn and all the girls like her had missed—but he could make one boy’s day shine. Shine as bright as that trophy.
If there was one thing Nick was good at, it was showing somebody how to have fun. And maybe, in doing that with Bobby, he’d find a way to fill that weird h
ole in his own life, too.
* * *
Last place.
Carolyn had never come in last in anything in her entire life. From the sullen looks Angela kept sending her way, her partner in the potato sack race never had, either. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”
“Where’s Nick?” Angela said in response. Apparently that was a no.
“He’s on the stage. He and Bobby came in...first.”
“And they got a trophy.” Angela shot her an accusatory glare.
“You still get a ribbon for participating,” Carolyn said, trying to keep an upbeat tone. “And there are other games. Lots of chances to win yet.”
“Here comes Nick!” Angela broke away from Carolyn and dashed toward her knight in shining armor.
Mary wove her way through the crowd and up to Carolyn. “How’s it going so far?”
Carolyn groaned. “I’m getting my tubes tied.”
“That bad, huh?”
“I am so not cut out for mothering. I don’t think I could be trusted with a puppy at this point. In fact, don’t even send me home with a houseplant. I’d kill the thing with boredom.”
“Oh, it can’t be that bad.”
Carolyn gestured toward Nick, who had Bobby mounted on his shoulders, and Angela trotting alongside. Two people, apparently Angela’s foster parents, had joined them. Angela was proudly making introductions. “See the Pied Piper of children. Note the lonely old maid who drove them away.”
Mary laughed. “Maybe you should join forces with Nick. After all, the whole point of today is to engage the kids. And if it all works out, you can take it a step further.”
“A step further?”
“And sign up for the Be-a-Buddy program.” Mary made a sweeping gesture, indicating the crowd of children and adults. “That’s what this is all about. A trial run of sorts. If the day is successful, we’re hoping to get a lot of the sponsors to be a part of the buddy program and continue interacting with these kids. So many of them really need a strong role model in their lives. Someone who can see them on a regular basis and do enriching, fun activities.”
Enriching? Fun? Strong role model? With kids? Mary had her confused with someone else.
Carolyn put up her hands. “I am the last person who should be involved in that. You know my schedule, Mary. You know what my life is like.”
“I do,” Mary said gently. “And that’s exactly why I think you should be a part of this. I think you need it more than the kids do.” She gave Carolyn’s arm a squeeze, then walked away.
* * *
It should have been easy to walk away.
The picnic had broken up. The children had begun boarding the buses or getting into cars to go home, loaded up with toys and cookies, their faces filled with delight—and disappointment that the day was over. Nick had earned a tight hug goodbye and an explosion of gratitude from both Angela and Bobby, then noticed the little boy gave Carolyn a stiff handshake.
He could read the longing in her eyes, though, the moment of hesitation when he’d thought she might reach out and pull the boy into a hug. Then Carolyn had drawn back into herself, the moment of softness gone. She’d become the bulldog again.
The woman he’d known so briefly back in law school disappeared as quickly as a feather in the wind. Disappointment slammed him in the chest. He’d hoped maybe Carolyn could have loosened up, had a good time, but then again, he hadn’t exactly helped a whole lot in that area, had he?
He’d had good intentions and gotten distracted by activities with the other kids. Leaving Carolyn to fend for herself. He’d let her down again, even though he hadn’t meant to.
“Oh, look, she came.”
Nick turned to find Mary, the event’s organizer, who had come up beside him. For a second he expected Mary to be talking about Carolyn, then realized that wouldn’t make any sense. He really needed to clear his head. Every other thought was about Carolyn Duff, for Pete’s sake. “She who?”
“Bobby’s mother. Bobby said she hadn’t been feeling well this morning, and I didn’t think she’d make it to the picnic. He was so disappointed. But she’s here. She knew how much this mattered to Bobby, so she came.” Mary smiled. “She’s one tough lady.”
Bobby darted across the field toward the woman, just as Carolyn wandered over and joined Nick and Mary. She shaded her eyes against the sun. “Is that Bobby’s mother?”
“Yep. Oh, look, he’s waving at us,” Mary said. “I think he wants to introduce you to her.”
“Oh, I don’t think—” Carolyn began.
“I think you should,” Mary interrupted. “It’ll only take a second.”
Nick could see Carolyn’s hesitation, sensed it in the set of her shoulders, the tension in her jaw. He remembered what she had told him about her childhood, about the years she had spent with her cold, unforgiving aunt Greta. Alone in a big, empty Victorian house, with no other real family. Carolyn, Nick knew, would feel uncomfortable in a family situation. Even though she’d said earlier that she’d wished she’d met his family, when they’d been together, she’d always found an excuse not to meet his parents, his siblings. The very idea had seemed to scare her.
The bulldog of Lawford could take on criminals, put them behind bars for years, but when it came to barbecues and holidays, she backed down and turned tail.
“Come on, it won’t be so bad,” Nick said, slipping his hand into hers. To offer support...friendship. Nothing more. But her delicate fingers were cool against his broad palm, the feel of her as familiar as a sunrise.
She looked up at him, defiant and brave. “I never said it would be. Let’s go.” Despite her words, Carolyn didn’t let go of Nick’s hand until they were across the field.
There they met up with Bobby and a small, thin brunette woman who looked tired but happy. Bobby stood before her, one arm holding on to hers, the other clutching his trophy. Pride shone in every inch of his face. “Nick, Miss Duff, I want you to meet my momma.”
“I heard wonderful things about you both.” The woman smiled. When she did, ten years were wiped off her face, and the difficulties of her life, so clear in her face, in the threadbare floral shirt and worn jeans she wore, seemed to be erased. “I’m Pauline Lester.” She extended a hand. The trio shook and exchanged introductions.
“They bought me toys, Momma,” Bobby said. “So many, I don’t think I can fit them in my room. Do I have to give them back?”
His mother laughed. “No, you can keep them all, sweetheart.” She drew her son against her, his wiry body cradling gently into her thin frame, her arm a shield and comfort. Then she met Nick and Carolyn’s gaze. Tears of gratitude welled in her eyes, but didn’t spill over. “Thank you. I can’t even begin to tell you how much this means to my son, to me.”
“It was nothing,” Carolyn said, wishing now that she had spent even more on Bobby, that she could afford to buy this mother and her son a whole house, furnish it from top to bottom. Pull an entire extreme makeover for this struggling family. “We just tried to get him something he’d like.”
“Oh, you did, and then some. Bobby’s a wonderful boy.” She ruffled his head. “He doesn’t need much.”
“Just you, Momma,” he said, burying his face in her shirt, as if inhaling her perfume. Imprinting her memory.
Carolyn’s throat swelled shut. Why had Mary paired her with this boy? The one who brought up everything from her own childhood? The parents she had lost—one she’d never known, the other that had been stolen from her. Her heart broke for Bobby—because she’d been where he was, wanting so hard to hold on to someone who wasn’t guaranteed to stay.
She felt a touch against her and looked down. Nick had slipped his hand into hers again. He gave her palm a squeeze.
Whoa, there was a surprise. He’d been paying attention and he not only knew, he unders
tood. And was telling her he was there. Twice now he had done this. Gratitude flooded her and she sent him a smile.
“Did you see my trophy, Momma? I think it might be real gold.” Bobby hoisted up his first place trophy, beaming with pride. “Nick and I won the potato sack race. He said he and his dad were the potato winners all the time.”
“Is that so? Well, you picked a good partner, then.”
“And Nick said that I’m his buddy.” Bobby’s smiled widened. “I never had a buddy like that before.”
“That’s wonderful, Bobby.” His mother drew in a breath, then let it out in a shudder. She coughed, and Carolyn could see exhaustion claiming her. “Let’s go home now.”
“Are you okay, Momma?”
She patted his shoulder. “Just fine, Bobby. Just fine.”
But all the adults could hear the lie the mother told her son.
“Thank you again,” Pauline told Nick and Carolyn. “It’s really nice to see Bobby smiling again.”
Then she turned and left, with her son at her side, his hand on her arm, protective and doting.
A family, no matter how small, but a family all the same. In a two-person cocoon.
* * *
“What is it with you two?”
After Bobby and Pauline Lester had left, Nick hung around to help finish cleaning up. He was just about to leave when he turned to find Mary Hudson, the event’s organizer, standing beside him. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and though there were faint shadows of exhaustion beneath her eyes from the long day, he could see the sharp look of inquisitiveness in her hazel gaze. “Us two who?” he asked.
“Oh, please. Like you don’t know. You and Carolyn. Everyone within a three-county area can tell there’s unfinished business between the two of you.” She picked up a stray piece of trash on the ground and tossed it into a nearby barrel. “And I know, because I work with Carolyn every day. She refuses to talk about you. Whenever Carolyn is silent, that’s a sure sign she’s hiding something big.”
Carolyn wouldn’t talk about him with other people. Nick didn’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. “It’s all in the past.”