Huntington Family Series

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Huntington Family Series Page 47

by Rachel Ann Nunes


  “Cory?” asked Tyler.

  Startled, Cory glanced at him and realized the missionaries had continued talking. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear more about Christ or the Book of Mormon. “Tell me what you believe about families,” she said. “I’ve heard your church is big on families.”

  “The Lord is big on families,” Elder Rowley gently corrected, “and He does have a plan so that families can be together forever.”

  Cory thought of AshDee. This doctrine was what she would have loved—knowing she could be with her baby and her husband forever. Knowing they would see their mother again. Knowing, Cory scoffed, or believing? The two were very different things. Besides, if such a place as heaven existed, and Cory wasn’t holding her breath on that one, there was one person Cory wasn’t exactly anxious to see. Her father was likely to be as ornery and cantankerous as he always had been. Sometimes at night after AshDee had left, she’d shed tears into her pillow, wishing she could do the same. But she hadn’t been able to leave. She’d loved and idolized their father as much as she feared and resented him.

  As she listened to the missionaries teach, Cory again felt the burning in her stomach. It’s the wine, she told herself. Or maybe I’m hungry. That’s it, I’m hungry.

  She listened politely, reserving her questions for another day—after she read the booklets they gave her. When they’d finished, they invited her to pray; she declined. When Elder Rowley didn’t press, she changed her mind about making them leave immediately and dug out some of the many cookies she’d been given by the well-meaning Mormons. No sense in letting them go to waste.

  “Can we come back tomorrow?” Elder Savage asked, downing half a cookie in one bite. Cory offered him some of Kerrianne’s peanut butter bars to take with him. He really needed the calories.

  “Not tomorrow,” she said, walking them to the door. “Or the Fourth. Look, I’m not really sure I need you to come at all.”

  “You might have questions,” Tyler put in, pointing to the handouts. “And there’s still more they have to explain.”

  Cory knew that. She was curious about the tithing she’d heard about in church on Sunday, but so far they hadn’t brought that up. Besides, she might need them if she was to become a Mormon. “Saturday, then,” she agreed. “But only you three. Okay?”

  “Deal.” Tyler grinned and shook her hand.

  “See you then,” the elders said together. They went down the steps and headed toward Tyler’s battered green truck.

  “You haven’t told your brother, right?” she asked before Tyler could follow them.

  He shook his head. “Nope. How’s it going between you two anyway?”

  “Us?” Cory nearly choked on her last piece of cookie. As far as she was concerned, there was no “us,” only a stubborn man standing between her and EmJay. “We’re still discussing custody.” She glanced down the street. The sun was just beginning to set, and there was still plenty of light for Mitch to see them by if he happened to be out in his front yard. He wasn’t.

  Tyler nodded. “Maybe you should get a job here and hang out until she’s grown.”

  “I have a good job already. And EmJay would have many unforgettable experiences in the Amazon.”

  “Maybe Mitch would move down there. He speaks Portuguese, you know. My mother would have a fit, though.”

  “Mitch wouldn’t need to move,” Cory said in frustration. “I can take care of EmJay myself. She belongs with me.”

  Tyler shook his head. “Mitch loves that baby like she was his own. They’ve really connected. I—I—I don’t know what to say. He was so close to Emily Jane’s parents before—and to her, too, but now . . . boy, I think it would kill him to lose her.”

  “She’s only been here four weeks. Not quite four weeks, even. That’s barely any time in his life—or hers, for that matter.”

  “I don’t agree. Four weeks is a long time. Four weeks can change your whole life.”

  The thought crossed Cory’s mind that four weeks was about the time she would be spending in Utah. She didn’t plan on changing.

  Tyler’s seriousness vanished. “Hey, the longest I’ve ever dated a girl was three weeks. That was tortuously long. If I dated her four weeks, well, that would mean something.”

  “What about that girl at the memorial service?”

  “Oh, we’re just friends.” A line of worry appeared between his eyes. “At least we were. I think she’s been avoiding me.”

  “I wonder why,” Cory said dryly.

  Tyler shrugged. “I don’t know. But I’ll find out.” Then he brightened. “Hey, I bet she’d come with me on Saturday if I asked her. Would it be okay if I brought her? Maybe then I could find out what’s wrong.”

  “Might be nice to hear a woman’s point of view. For instance, I still don’t understand about Mormons and polygamy.”

  “Oh, that was just a blip in our history,” Tyler said, shrugging. “That’s what our prophet says. It was needed then, but it isn’t now. No one should worry about that anymore.” His confidence impressed her. What would it be like to believe in a living prophet?

  “Anyway,” Tyler continued, “God loves his daughters every bit as much as his sons—probably more, my dad always says.” He scrunched his forehead. “I think he’s trying to tell Mitch and me something when he says this, but Mitch just agrees.”

  Cory laughed as he’d intended. “We’ll see you Saturday.”

  “See you.” Tyler sprinted down the sidewalk to his truck.

  Leaving the pamphlets and the new Book of Mormon the missionaries had given her on the floor in the living room, Cory went into the kitchen. She knocked on the mudroom door.

  “Not yet, dear,” Vikki called. “Give me another ten minutes. But wow, Cory, these are great! It’s amazing what that old camera can do! Or rather the two of you together.”

  Smiling, Cory began thumbing through one of her sister’s photo albums that Mitch had lent her. She’d already looked through all the photographs from her sister’s younger years, and this was the first album from AshDee’s new life. She’d met Lane and they were together in almost every picture. They weren’t alone; Mitch was also in many of the photographs, smiling and laughing. He was at their parties, best man at the wedding, and even at the hospital, smiling as someone took a picture of him holding a newborn EmJay, who looked more like a bundle of receiving blankets than a real baby. In the background of that picture, AshDee smiled at him from her hospital bed with genuine admiration. She loved him, Cory thought, reading her sister’s expression. As a friend, at least. Because there was no doubt in her mind that AshDee loved her husband. Their mutual affection for one another was all too apparent on each page and caused an impossible lump to form in Cory’s throat. Would she ever know what it felt like to love a man like that? Or to have a man love her?

  Tears stung her eyes. She should have known love by now, shouldn’t she? But whenever she’d begin to get close, her father’s sermons had come to mind—which had been punctuated more often than not with smart slaps to her arms or face. She’d never been able to give her whole heart.

  Closing her eyes, Cory struggled for composure. Her father was dead; he couldn’t hurt her again. She didn’t have to believe his words anymore. Not about his church or about Jesus. After all, where was Jesus when she and AshDee were crying in the night?

  Yet AshDee had risen above their past. She’d freed herself. She had loved.

  Taking a last peek at Mitch holding EmJay, Cory closed the picture album and held it to her chest. She loved, too. She loved EmJay. “I won’t let you go, EmJay,” she whispered. “I won’t.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  What do you mean you might not make it to the barbecue tomorrow?” Amanda demanded when Mitch called her late Thursday morning.

  Holding the phone between his ear and his right shoulder, he waved a bowl of baby cereal at Emily Jane, who grinned at him from the high chair. “Emily Jane and I are going jet skiing, and we might not make it back
in time.”

  “But, Mitch, you know how Mother loves having us all together. Why can’t you choose another day to go? Wait a minute. Does this have anything to do with Emily Jane’s aunt, Cory What’s-her-face?”

  He spooned a bit of cereal into Emily Jane’s mouth. “She’s got some friends visiting and wants to show the baby off.”

  “Oh, I see. You don’t trust her enough to let her take Emily Jane by herself.”

  “Do you think I’m wrong?”

  Amanda clicked her tongue. “No, I don’t think you’re wrong, but I’m wondering what’s the point of letting her go at all?”

  “The point is that Emily Jane likes Cory, and how can I deny her a chance to know her aunt?”

  “Yeah, but Cory’s made it pretty clear she’s going back to the Amazon.”

  “That’s why I can’t leave Emily Jane with her. When I think about how she disowned her sister because she joined the Church, I get nervous about what kind of person she really is. And she keeps talking about Emily Jane and the Amazon, as though they’ll end up there together.” He couldn’t keep the irritation from his voice. “Anyway, I can’t trust her.”

  “With good reason. For a minute there, I thought you were going soft on me.”

  “No way.” Mitch made the words hard. No use letting his sister know how close she was to the truth. “I don’t even like the woman.”

  Amanda was immediately suspicious. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

  “I don’t need convincing. She’s nothing like the women I’m attracted to.”

  Amanda didn’t speak for the space of three heartbeats. “Right. She’s pretty, witty, independent, loves Emily Jane, and has a job you envy.” She snorted. “Yeah, she’s nothing like the women you date.”

  Ignoring her, Mitch gave Emily Jane another spoonful of cereal. “So, will you tell Mom? Don’t wait dinner on us, but we’ll be to the fireworks for sure.”

  “Why don’t you call her yourself?”

  “And risk another wife lecture? Or answer ‘why haven’t you brought over all those pretty girls from the singles ward?’” His voice rose to mimic their mother’s tone.

  Amanda giggled. “You sound just like her.”

  “I can’t deal with that right now. I was up half the night working and the other half with Emily Jane. I’m going to finish feeding her and see if we can both get a bit more shut-eye.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll tell her. But don’t forget your drysuit tomorrow.”

  “I’m not taking it.” Normally he would have because, unlike a wetsuit, the drysuit prevented the cold water from touching his skin and setting off the allergic reaction that could affect his breathing. Only his hands, feet, and face would itch and swell. “But don’t worry,” he added quickly. “I’m not actually going into the water. I’m only there to make sure Emily Jane’s okay.”

  “You sure? I know how you love jet skiing.” Amanda didn’t sound happy about his decision, and he knew she was envisioning him alone on the shore while Cory and her friends had a good time in the water.

  “I’m just not up for it,” he said shortly. Amanda was right that he loved jet skiing—in fact, he loved all water sports, but with his allergy to cold, participating was never easy. Besides, he wasn’t about to tell Cory and her friends about his disability.

  “You wouldn’t have to explain the drysuit. Everyone will be in a swimsuit anyway.”

  Sometimes Mitch wished his sister didn’t know him so well. “Forget it. Please, Manda?”

  “Fine,” she growled. “But take the toothbrush.”

  That was their code word for the epinephrine he always carried—just in case. “I never leave home without it,” he quipped.

  He hung up the phone, feeling rather depressed. He wondered if Cory was sorry that he was coming along.

  Cory slept late on Thursday. She and Vikki had been up half the night, but the result was worth it. Vikki had chosen ten stunning photographs, which they would e-mail today to catch the photo specialist before the holiday weekend.

  Vikki was waiting for Cory in the kitchen, a mug of steaming coffee in her hands. “I went to the store this morning,” she said. Instead of her usual business dress, she wore black knit pants and an embroidered T-shirt, her hair once again pinned up. “I can’t believe you didn’t have any coffee.”

  Cory shrugged. “I see you bought some mugs, too. Good thinking.”

  “Look, I scanned in the photos and was going to e-mail them, but you don’t seem to have an Internet connection.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Cory said with a groan. “I’ve been too busy to even think about it.”

  “Well, there’s only a few, but the resolutions are too high to use anything but high speed Internet. And the CD or hard copies wouldn’t make it there until tomorrow. Do you know where an Internet café is?”

  Cory shook her head. “Someone gave me an old phone book, though.” Then she had an idea. “I bet Mitch has high speed Internet. He works from home so he can stay with EmJay.”

  Vikki’s eyebrows rose. “He gave up work to stay home? Wow, this guy is too good to be true. Too bad there aren’t any sparks between you.”

  Cory blew out a disgusted sigh. “Oh, there are plenty of sparks! Every time we’re together we fight.”

  “Ah,” Vikki said, as though discovering something important.

  “What do you mean ‘ah’? It’s been really hard, I’ll have you know. Of course, now that I’m trying to be charming, I have to bite my tongue and let him think he’s right all the time. That’s even worse than fighting.” Cory helped herself to one of the blueberry bagels Vikki had also purchased. “Anyway, we might as well go over there. I need to see EmJay.”

  “Need?”

  Cory met Vikki’s eyes and looked away. How could she explain what she felt? Vikki and her former husband hadn’t had children, and she didn’t have any nieces or nephews yet. “I’ll get dressed so we can go. But remember that I’m trying to convince him to give me EmJay, so if I act funny, go with it.”

  Vikki laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll take every opportunity to leave you two lovebirds alone.”

  Cory changed into jeans and a spandex shirt, slipping her feet into sandals. Then in the makeshift darkroom, she grabbed a picture of Meeko. EmJay will like to see this, she told herself, though she knew it was really for Mitch.

  They rang at Mitch’s numerous times before he finally opened his door, wearing black lounge pants with green dinosaurs and a green T-shirt. His brown hair looked mussed from sleep and his eyes heavy.

  “Are you all right?” she asked. “Where’s EmJay?”

  He raked a hand through his hair, letting the door open wider. “She’s, uh . . .” He looked confused. “She was sleeping when I dropped off. We were up most of the night.”

  A noise behind him caused them all to turn, and there was EmJay munching on a handful of gerbil food. Mitch groaned and ran to her, while Cory exchanged a superior look with Vikki. Cory had suspected Mitch wasn’t up to the task of single parenting, and this was clear proof of his negligence.

  “Must have forgotten to shut the door to the animal room,” Mitch muttered, brushing the seeds from EmJay’s hand.

  Uninvited, Cory stepped into the house, followed by Vikki. They could see gerbil food scattered down the hall. Mitch tried to fish the seeds from EmJay’s mouth; obligingly, she spat a mouthful into his hand. Pocketing the seeds, he sighed and picked her up.

  Cory opened her mouth to point out what a rotten guardian he was and how much better she would be. Then she remembered her plan. Quickly, she softened her words. “You might want to put a self-shutting hinge on that door.” She really, really hated not rubbing this incident in his face, but she had no choice if she wanted him to like her. She gave him her best smile, holding his gaze until he looked away. The slight blush on his face almost made her laugh aloud. Plan working perfectly.

  “Don’t know why I didn’t think of it.” He glanced at the baby in hi
s arms, his forehead furrowed tightly. “She looks like she didn’t sleep at all.” Sure enough, the baby was rubbing her eyes.

  Cory held out her arms. “Want to come to me?” EmJay turned her head away.

  “Maybe in a bit,” Mitch said. “Probably needs to sleep off all that gerbil food. You know, a full stomach and all.”

  Vikki snickered, and Cory smiled, trying not to show how much the rejection stung—especially after all the times EmJay had been happy to see her. “It won’t hurt her, will it?” she asked. “The gerbil food, I mean.”

  He shrugged. “The gerbils don’t keel over when they eat it.”

  Cory glared at him hotly for a brief second before remembering her plan. She took a measured breath. “We came to use your computer, if you don’t mind.”

  Vikki held up her tiny silver USB mass storage device. “Do you have high speed Internet? If so, we wanted to know if we could use your computer to send something to the magazine we’re working for. We wouldn’t need your e-mail or anything. We both have online accounts.”

  “Sure. I had high speed put in when I bought the house.”

  “We really appreciate this.” Vikki’s eyes roamed the small living room, and Cory wondered if she was comparing it to her spacious condo in California. At least he has a place, Cory thought. Her own home consisted of a tent in Brazil and a storage unit in California.

  “My computer’s right here,” Mitch said unnecessarily. They could all see it in the corner of the living room, the screensaver sending a ball bouncing repeatedly across the monitor. “Looks like I left it on. I worked late last night.”

  “You really must have been tired,” Vikki said, sounding too sympathetic for Cory’s liking.

  Mitch nodded. Once more he pulled a hand through his hair, which immediately fell back to the sides of his face. Cory had a hard time looking away.

 

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