by Sherry Lewis
“Yes, of course.” Sharon motioned the girl toward an empty chair. “What can I do for you?”
“It’s about the article I wrote for our last assignment.” Liberty perched on the edge of the chair and twisted her hands in her lap. “I didn’t do so well, did I?”
“It wasn’t one of your best efforts,” Sharon admitted. “In fact, I’ve been surprised by your grades all semester. You used to be one of my top students.”
“I’ve already done all this stuff once,” Liberty reminded her. “It’s not fair that I have to do it again.”
Sharon didn’t want to get into that discussion again. “I understand your frustration, but I’d expect your performance to be just the opposite. You should be able to ace the course since you’ve already been through it once.”
“I know, but I don’t have time to do it this semester, Mrs. Lawrence. I’m married now. I’ve got a house to clean and meals to fix and—”
“And you’re going to school and working part-time,” Sharon cut in. “Doesn’t your husband do his share of things around the house?”
Liberty flicked a wounded glance at her. “Not really. He works really hard, and he goes to school, so he’s tired when he comes home.”
“You work, too. And with your schoolwork, I’m sure you come home tired.”
“Sure, I do. But…” Liberty lowered her gaze and studied her hands. “It’s not just that, Mrs. Lawrence. It’s everything. I never get any time to myself. From the minute David walks in the door, he wants me right there with him. And if I try to do something else—like study—he pouts.” She lifted her gaze again. “It’s driving me crazy.”
Sharon fought the familiar tide of panic when she thought of her own changing life. She told herself that wouldn’t happen to her. She and Gabe were older, and hopefully wiser, than Liberty and her husband. “Surely, he understands that you need to study,” she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.
“He says he does, but he doesn’t like me to do it. I’ve tried doing my homework before he gets home, but then dinner’s so late we’re both starving and in bad moods by the time I finally get it on the table. Besides, money’s so tight, I need to get a full-time job. We can’t really afford for me to stay in school right now.”
Sharon warned herself not to get involved in the girl’s private life. She wasn’t a marriage counselor, and she had no business offering advice. Still, she hated to watch a young woman with promise fall by the wayside. “But you can’t really afford to toss aside your own future, can you?” she asked cautiously.
Liberty lifted her chin and met Sharon’s gaze. “There’ll be time for me to finish school after we’ve made some money.”
“I said the same thing once,” Sharon told her. “I let my ex-husband talk me into leaving school, but I didn’t go back until after we got divorced.”
“That won’t happen to me.”
Sharon chewed her bottom lip and told herself again to pull back before she got in too deep. “You’re one of my best students. You could have a brilliant future.”
“I will have,” Liberty insisted. “Just not right away. David and I have already agreed that I’m coming back as soon as he graduates. I’m a wife now, Mrs. Lawrence. I can’t just think about myself anymore.”
“I’m not suggesting that you should think only of yourself,” Sharon assured her. “But you can’t forget about yourself, either. Unless you have your own life and follow your own interests, you’ll have very little to offer your husband or your children, if you decide to start a family later.”
Liberty’s eyes flashed. “I know what you’re trying to say, but that’s not going to happen to me. I won’t let it.” She gathered her things and stood. “You watch. I’ll be back in a couple of years.”
Sharon tried to smile. “I hope so.”
Liberty crossed to the door, then turned back to face her. “Things are different than they used to be, Mrs. Lawrence. Women don’t give up everything like they used to.”
Didn’t they? Wasn’t that exactly what Liberty was doing? Sharon recognized all the signs. She’d done exactly the same thing for Nick.
Nick’s betrayal had hurt her, but she’d survived. She wasn’t at all sure she’d be able to survive another one. And everything she knew about Gabe warned her that she could be exposing herself to just that.
JUGGLING AN ARMFUL of books, Emilee dodged students on their way to lunch. She couldn’t take time to eat, no matter how hungry she was. She and Christa had plans for their lunch hour. Gabe was still worried that their mom would find out about the Man Plan. He’d talked to Emilee again last night and she’d had to promise that she and Christa would sort everything out. They’d find everyone who knew about the plan and call the whole thing off before lunch ended.
Smiling, she hugged her books tighter. She liked knowing that Gabe worried about their mom’s feelings. And she really liked seeing her mother so happy. Who would have guessed that her mom would fall for someone like Gabe? Or that he’d fall in love back?
In fact, Emilee couldn’t wait for Gabe to pop the question. She knew he would one of these days. She just hoped he’d do it soon.
She drew to a stop in front of Christa’s locker and checked the crowded hallway. No sign of Christa yet. But she caught a glimpse of her friend Derek making his way toward the opposite end of the corridor.
Clutching her books tightly, she hurried after him and caught up just before he turned the corner. “Derek? Do you have a minute?”
“For you? Anytime.” He slung his letter jacket over his shoulder and gave her a once-over. “What’s up?”
Emilee suddenly wished she’d taken time to check her hair and makeup. “You remember when Matt asked you to help Christa and me find a boyfriend for our mom?”
“Sure. But I haven’t been able to come up with anybody yet. The only single guy I know is about ninety-five years old.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Emilee assured him. “We don’t need you to look anymore.”
“Are you serious? Somebody found her a guy already?”
“She found one on her own.”
“Cool.” Derek fished a pair of sunglasses from his T-shirt pocket and settled them over his eyes. “But that’s going to disappoint a lot of people who are hoping to win the contest.”
Emilee’s smile faded. “Contest? What contest?”
“You know…whoever finds a guy for your mom gets a date with you or Christa for the Spring Fling.”
Emilee stared at him, openmouthed. “Who told you that?”
“Matt.”
Derek must have misunderstood. “Not that it matters now, but there wasn’t any contest. Matt just wanted to take Christa to the Valentine’s dance, and we told him he could if he found Mom a date, too.”
“Okay. If you say so.” Derek shrugged casually and checked his watch. “Look, I’ve gotta go. Some of the guys are waiting for me in the parking lot. We’re going to McDonald’s for lunch. Do you wanna come along?”
“I can’t. Christa and I promised my mom’s boyfriend that we’d tell everyone today. I still have to find Christa and tell a few other people.”
“Okay.” Derek moved his jacket to the other shoulder. “You want me to tell the guys I see?”
“No. There are only a few people who know about it, anyway. I’m sure Christa and I can find them all.”
Derek pulled down his sunglasses and peered over the tops at her. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. I really need to stay here—”
“Not that,” he said, cutting her off. “I mean about only a few people knowing. Everybody knows about it.”
Emilee gaped at him. “But we only told a few people. It was supposed to be a secret.”
“Some secret,” Derek snorted. “It’s probably the worst-kept secret I’ve ever heard. Some of the guys were talking about it at practice yesterday.”
Emilee thought she might be sick. “Basketball practice?”
He nod
ded. “And Kelley Hill said he heard about it at the swim meet the other day.”
“But—” Emilee knew she was going to be sick. “How did everybody find out?”
“Are you kidding? The winner gets a date with one of the Lawrence sisters. That’s big news.”
“That was never the deal,” Emilee insisted.
“No? Well, that’s what everybody thinks.”
Emilee’s stomach lurched. “You’ve got to help me straighten this out.”
“Me? Why me?”
“Because you can go into the boys’ locker room, and I can’t.”
Derek didn’t look at all concerned. “Okay, I guess. I’ll do what I can. But I don’t know how much good it will do.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “If you really want to call it off, maybe you ought to make an announcement on the PA system. It’d be a whole lot quicker.”
Feeling slightly nauseated, Emilee watched him leave, then started searching for Christa. They had to fix this now.
GABE FINISHED SHAVING, checked his reflection in the mirror and decided he looked presentable. He had a plan for tonight, and in a few minutes he’d put it into action. He’d expected his relationship with Sharon to grow over the past three weeks. Instead, she seemed to be pulling away. Could she be having second thoughts?
Tonight, he intended to find out. He’d asked her to have dinner with him, and once they were alone—without kids, assignments, test papers, dishes, housework, contracts, electrical outlets, light fixtures and the cat to come between them—he’d draw her out.
He pulled on his new shirt, checked his reflection once more and grabbed his keys and the single white rose he’d picked up on his way home. He pulled the door closed behind him, ignoring the blinking light on his answering machine. Nothing was going to delay him tonight.
Whistling softly, he drove across town and smiled when he realized he had the jitters, just like a kid on the way to pick up his first date. He’d never felt this way about any woman. Nor had he ever been so willing, even eager, to change.
When he reached Sharon’s house, he parked in the driveway for the first time and jogged up the walk to the front door. No garage-door entrance for him tonight.
Emilee answered and gave a yelp of surprise when she saw him standing there. “You look good. Christa, come here, quick. Look at Gabe.”
Grinning, he held out his arms and turned around slowly for Christa. “Do I pass inspection?”
“Are you kidding?” she said with a laugh. “You’re a total hunk. Mom’s gonna flip.”
He certainly hoped so. “Where is she?”
“Upstairs getting ready.” Emilee grabbed his arm and tugged him into the living room. “I’ll tell her you’re here.”
Not surprisingly, Christa hurried off to help. He could imagine them sitting on Sharon’s bed while she dressed, brushed her hair or sprayed perfume behind her ears. He bent to scratch Raoul, then settled into one of the wingback chairs to wait. He ran through his plans for the evening one more time. Dinner and dancing, candlelight and wine. He’d never known them to fail.
Within minutes, Emilee came back alone. Some of her excitement had faded. “She’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Gabe studied her slight frown and the clouds in her eyes. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” She shook her head quickly and dropped into a corner of the couch. “I don’t know.” She glanced at him. “You haven’t done anything to upset her, have you? Like maybe telling her about the plan we had to find her a man?”
“Me?” He shook his head quickly. “No.”
“Are you sure? She’s acting weird.”
Disappointment flickered in his chest. He thought back over their earlier conversation, but he couldn’t think of any mistakes he’d made. “I’m sure.”
Emilee gave that some thought. “I just don’t understand her sometimes. She—” She broke off and glanced over her shoulder at the sound of approaching voices. “Shh— Here she comes.”
Suddenly nervous, Gabe stood and watched the door. Sharon came into the room slowly, almost hesitantly, and he could see by the set of her face what Emilee meant. Other than the wariness, she looked beautiful in a silky flowered dress. Soft dark curls cascaded to her shoulders. Her eyes caught the muted glow of the lamp.
Somehow, he managed to speak. “You look beautiful.”
A shy smile curved her lips, but she didn’t meet his gaze. “Thank you.” She let her eyes light on him for a moment, then looked away again. “You look very nice.”
“Almost respectable, huh?”
That earned another smile, this one slightly more relaxed than the first. “Almost,” she teased.
Some of his confidence returned. He offered her the rose, and when she lifted it to inhale its scent, his heart leaped. But when she looked at him again, the shutter had dropped in front of her eyes.
He motioned for Emilee and Christa to leave them alone, then asked, “Is something wrong?”
She took so long to answer, his heart began to thud in his throat. “No,” she said at last. “I guess not.” She guessed? That didn’t sound very promising.
Sharon breathed in the rose’s scent again and lifted her eyes to meet his. “Actually, I’m glad we’re going to have a chance to be alone tonight…”
Yes!
“…because we need to talk.”
No!
Yes, he wanted to draw her out about their relationship, but the words sounded ominous coming from her.
He stole another look at the resolute line of her jaw, the stiff set of her shoulders, the dark light in her eyes and decided he didn’t want to know. Unfortunately, once a woman announced the need to talk, no man could escape. Gabe had learned that the hard way. So he’d listen to whatever she had to say. But he wouldn’t let even bad news discourage him. One way or another, he intended to win her over.
GABE FOLLOWED SHARON and the restaurant’s hostess through the crowded tables of the Blue Iguana to a corner booth. He waited for Sharon to choose her side of the booth, then slid onto the seat opposite her. So far, so good. He sat back in his seat and smiled at her. “I hope you’re hungry.”
She tried to smile, but it didn’t make it all the way to her eyes. “Yes,” she said softly. “I am.” She linked her hands together on the table. “Gabe, I want to talk to you about the girls. I’m worried about them and I know Emilee and Christa talk to you sometimes. Do you have any idea what they’re up to?”
If that’s all she wanted to talk about, he could still salvage the evening. Maybe he should tell her about the girls’ scheme. And maybe he should just shoot himself in the foot and get it over with. He tried to look confused. “Up to? You think they’re up to something?”
Sharon’s eyebrows knit and she tilted her head to one side. “They’re behaving strangely again as if they’re hiding something from me.”
Gabe wedged a tortilla chip into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Is your birthday coming up? Maybe they’re planning a surprise.”
She shook her head. “No. My birthday’s not until August.”
“Mother’s Day?”
“That’s two months away.”
“Saint Patrick’s Day is in a couple of weeks…”
“Yes,” she said slowly. “But we’re not Irish, and they don’t plan surprises for Saint Patrick’s Day.”
“It’s probably nothing,” he assured her. “Maybe one of them has a new boyfriend they don’t want to tell you about.”
Sharon took a chip, but she didn’t eat it right away. “I don’t think so. They always tell me about the guys they meet.”
Scratch that. He didn’t want to upset her further. “It’s probably nothing,” he said again. “They seem fine to me.”
“Then they haven’t said anything to you?”
Gabe gave her a look of wide-eyed innocence and ate another chip. “Relax, Sharon. You’ve got great kids. But let’s talk about us now. This is the first chance I’ve had to get you alone. I’d rather talk
about—” he broke off and smiled up into the face of a dark-haired waitress wearing a frilly Mexican folk dress “—what you want for dinner. Are you having the cheese enchiladas again?”
Sharon gave the menu a cursory glance and handed it to the waitress. “That sounds good.”
“Give her three of them,” Gabe said, “so she can have leftovers.” That might earn a favorable mark or two. At this point, he’d take anything he could get. “And I’ll have the large combination plate.” He handed both menus to the waitress. “And bring us two Tecatas.”
Sharon held up a hand. “I’m not sure I should have anything to drink—” She paused, sent him her first genuine smile of the evening, and shrugged. “On the other hand, maybe I should. Maybe then everything will make sense again.”
Gabe doubted that, unless the Tecata made her a mind reader. “So is that what you wanted to talk about? The kids?”
Sharon nodded slowly. “Yes. But not just about my kids. Let’s talk about your daughter.”
“About Tracy?” Gabe leaned back in his chair. “What do you want to know?”
“It seems to me that you know everything about me and about my daughters, but I know next to nothing about yours.”
“I guess I haven’t really talked about her much, have I? But you’re wrong about me knowing all about you. There are a million things I don’t know.”
She adjusted her napkin on her lap. “So, tell me about Tracy. She’s fifteen?”
“Yes. The sad thing is, I don’t feel as if I know much about her anymore. When she lived with me, she was quiet and fairly shy. She didn’t have many friends. But the last time I talked to her, she mentioned her friends. In fact, she hesitated to come and visit me over spring break because of her friends.”
“Does she look like you?”
“A little, but she looks more like her mother.”
“Do you have a picture with you?”
He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, opened it to the most recent picture he had and handed it to Sharon.
She studied it for a minute, then gave it back to him. “She’s very pretty.”