Beefcake & Mistakes

by Fennell, Judi

  “Bryan did propose, Mrs. Lassiter. I turned him down.” She owed Bryan that much at least since he’d taken the fall for their supposed night of debauchery.

  “You did? Why, dear? It can’t be easy raising a child on your own.”

  “Ma, really, I don’t think—”

  “It’s okay, Bryan.” Jenna tapped the table in front of him. With all the lies she would be telling for the next fourteen or so years, she could give him the truth now. “I said no because Bryan and I don’t know each other very well, and we should if we’re going to commit to spending our lives together. Right now, we need to be friends and focus on what’s best for Trevor. It’s a big enough adjustment. Marriage and all that entails will only muddy the waters.”

  Mrs. Lassiter pursed her lips and looked between them. “You’re right, of course. No need to rush things. The important thing is that you’re there for this little boy.” She took one last look at Trevor’s school picture and shook her head. “He has your eyes. I’ll be…”

  She sniffed then shooed Bryan out of the booth. “I’ll let you two get back to your arrangements. And thank you, Jenna, I’d love to come for dinner tomorrow. I’ll get all the particulars from Bryan.” She cupped his cheek and kissed the other one. “Goodbye, sweetheart. I love you.”

  “Bye, Mom.”

  He watched her walk away then waved when she was out front of the deli.

  “You have a great relationship.”

  “Yeah. We do. I knew she’d be thrilled. Ever since Dad died, she’s practically smothered Kyle’s girls.”

  “Now she’ll have someone else to smother.”

  “You sure you’re okay with having her tomorrow night? You didn’t have to do that.”

  Jenna took a bite of her sandwich more for something to do than any hunger issue. Because she wasn’t hungry. All the ramifications of the situation were starting to hit her. Bryan’s mother was coming for dinner. Trevor had a grandmother—a real one who wanted to know him and would probably want to take him to the Mackerley’s farm and show him the cows.

  “Does she bake?” Jenna’s mom used to make the best chocolate chip cookies—up until her daughter had disappointed her.

  “Bakes, cooks, sews, can plan a party with nothing more than a frying pan and a grill—don’t ask. My mom has loved being a mom and all she’s ever wanted is to have half a dozen grandkids.”

  “Looks like she got her wish.”

  “Well, half of it. So far there are only three, which leaves three slots open. I’d like to fill them someday.” His fingers stole across the table and wound around hers.

  Great. Something else for her to dream about.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “So you’re spreading your shame around again, I hear.”

  As usual, Jenna’s mother didn’t bother to knock, storming into her home as if she were the one paying the mortgage, and not giving a thought to keeping her voice down so Trevor wouldn’t hear any of this.

  Luckily, he’d spent the night at Cathy’s and wasn’t yet home. Jenna had wanted to make sure her house was up to snuff for the dinner with Mrs. Lassiter and Bryan—in two hours!—and had cleaned the place top to bottom.

  If only she could dust her mother under the rug as easily. “Ellen, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Mom had insisted on Ellen once Dad’s affair had come to light. She hadn’t wanted the mom moniker—said it worked against her in the dating arena and since Jenna had been about to become a mother herself at that point, she most definitely didn’t want to be known as Grandmom.

  It was just as well. Ellen had proven she really didn’t have the Mom gene anymore—as proven by her next sentence.

  “There’s some dumpy old broad going around telling people that Trevor is her grandson.”

  Leave it to her mother to boil everything down to its most basic. Ellen had always been a glass half-empty sort, but Dad’s affair had pushed her over the edge of negativity.

  Of course, that could have been the reason for Dad’s affair, but Jenna had chosen to stay out of her parents’ marital battles.

  “Her name is Tabitha Lassiter and she is Trevor’s grandmother.”

  “So am I.”

  If only she’d act it. Jenna fanned the magazines on the coffee table. “I didn’t say you weren’t.”

  “So what does she want?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Ellen fanned the magazines a little bit more. “Well, she was going on and on at the post office about being able to see him and she wants to take him shopping for clothes for school and toys for Christmas. And she wants to have him over at Thanksgiving. How come I don’t get to do any of that with him?”

  It took all Jenna had not to go fix those magazines. Instead she straightened the picture frames on the mantel. “Because you’ve never wanted to. I seem to remember you telling me to keep ‘the little bastard’ away from you so people wouldn’t look down on you.” The words had hurt when she’d first heard them and every time ever since. They were especially hurtful now that Bryan’s mother had so readily embraced Trevor’s existence simply because she was thrilled to have another grandchild.

  “I never said that, Jenna Marie.”

  “Okay, fine. You didn’t.” Jenna gave in. She’d never win anyway and, hey, if this was what it took for her mother to have the slightest iota of interest in Trevor, she’d take what she could get. For his sake.

  “Are you being flippant?”

  “Look, Ellen, I said, okay. You can take him shopping if you want. But right now I’m trying to clean the house before they get here, so if you don’t mind, I don’t have time to have this discussion. Christmas is six months away.” And by then, Ellen would probably have forgotten her indignation.

  And her grandson.

  “Before who gets here?”

  Leave it to her mother to zero in on the one thing Jenna didn’t want her to. “I’m having some people over for dinner.”

  “Who?”

  “People.”

  Ellen was across the room with her finger in Jenna’s face faster than Jenna had ever seen her move—except when she’d thrown Dad’s things out the window.

  “You’re having that woman over, aren’t you? If you were having Cathy and her husband, you would have said so, but you didn’t. The only reason you won’t tell me is because it has to be her. Is Trevor’s father coming, too?”

  Jenna shoved her hand with the dust rag onto her hip and refused to back down. This was her house, dammit. She could have whoever she wanted over for dinner. “Fine. If you must know, yes, Bryan and his mother are coming to dinner. She wants to meet Trevor. So, if you don’t mind, I have a lot to do to get ready.”

  “I don’t mind.” Ellen moved two of the frames around. “But I’m staying.”

  “What? No, you’re not. This is a dinner for Bryan and his mother to spend some time getting to know Trevor.”

  “I could use the time to get to know him, too.”

  “It’s been your choice not to know him before now

  “One that has been grossly misguided.” Ellen twirled around, sashayed over to the sofa, planted her butt on it, kicked off her heels, and crossed her ankles on the coffee table. “I’d like to rectify that situation.”

  “Only because you don’t want Mrs. Lassiter to one-up you on the grandmother scale.”

  Ellen flicked her fingernails. “Now what kind of grandmother would I be if that were the truth, sweetheart? At least I have a grandchild, unlike that mealy-mouthed tramp your father had to hook up with.”

  Jenna clamped the truth behind her lips. No one would win if she came out with it now.

  “How about if you come tomorrow night? Then you can have Trevor all to yourself.”

  “You’re ashamed of me?” Ellen patted her brand new haircut that she’d been sure to let drop had cost over two hundred dollars. She’d relished spending her husband’s life insurance money, hence the cut and color, the gym membership,
and numerous sessions with the personal trainer to keep herself looking good.

  If only she’d work on the inside as much.

  “I’m not ashamed of you.” In the looks department, no. But in the way she’d supported her and been there as a mother? Yes, that was embarrassing. But hurting her mom wouldn’t change the past and Jenna wasn’t that person.

  “Good. Then there’s no reason why can’t I come to dinner tonight and meet them.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “You are ashamed of me. I knew it.”

  Were those tears in her mother’s eyes? Couldn’t be. Ellen North sucked up her disappointment and swallowed it so no one would ever know.

  Jenna sat on the opposite end of the sofa and dumped the dust rag onto the table. “Mom, what’s going on?”

  Ellen blinked. “I’m trying, Jenna. I am. Everyone knows what you’ve done. First you got pregnant as a teenager and then you turn around and do the same thing as an adult. And now, suddenly, the father shows up and his mother is pleased as punch—”her voice rose an octave—“to spread the word that my daughter has given her a grandchild. How do you think I feel? Everyone’s looking at me as if I’m the bad grandmother. Do you know that Marla said she didn’t know I even had a grandson.”

  Marla was one of the women in the bridge club that Ellen had been playing with weekly for years. Shame on her mother for not letting her supposedly closest friends know about him.

  “Maybe if you took him out on occasion and showed your friends, they might.” Of course this was all about Ellen. Jenna was a fool to think it had any deeper meaning, like missing out on Trevor’s younger years. She stood up. She couldn’t do this now. She had to get ready for the people who actually wanted to know Trevor for him, not for what other people would say.

  Ellen flicked her nails again. “I already raised my child, Jenna. Also without a husband. Did you see me pawning you off on other people?”

  “I was sixteen. And Dad was still around.”

  That got to her mother. Ellen slammed her feet to the floor and leaned forward. “Just because we were still legally married doesn’t mean he was around for us. In our lives. He was too busy with her.”

  Okay, so maybe she did have to do this. At least some of it. For so long she’d listened to her mother rail against Dad and had just kept quiet. She’d sat back and taken her mother’s barrage of insults when she’d gotten pregnant. But tonight was about Trevor. She couldn’t allow her mother to ruin it.

  “Ellen, you can’t come tonight. Every conversation I have with you ends in a diatribe against Dad. I don’t want Trevor or the Lassiters exposed to it. I know he hurt you, but he’s gone. We’re not. Enjoy us.”

  It felt good to finally say it. For so long she’d kept it bottled up inside her.

  “That’s what I’m trying to do, Jenna. Starting tonight. One big, happy family. It’s what you want for your son, right?”

  “Hello?” Cathy’s voice sing-songed in through the kitchen. “Trevor and Bobby and I are here. Okay to come in?”

  Cathy would have seen Ellen’s car and figured out the necessity of making her presence known before bringing the boys in.

  “Ellen—”

  “Oh, good. My grandson’s here.” Ellen shoved her feet into her heels, stood up, and headed toward the kitchen. “Wait until he sees what I brought him.”

  Jenna closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and counted to ten. Twice.

  She wasn’t going to be able to get rid of her mother.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Hello, I’m Ellen North. Trevor’s grandmother.” Ellen held out her hand to Mrs. Lassiter with all the faux grace of her country club membership’s set. “Or, I guess I should say his other grandmother, shouldn’t I?”

  She could be very charming when she chose. She was choosing to now.

  “So nice to meet you.” Mrs. Lassiter was just as charming and genuine as she’d been at lunch.

  Bryan was just as gorgeous.

  Jenna hadn’t seen him since yesterday. He’d gone back to work after lunch, and then to the club—and Jenna was not setting foot in that place for a long time because A) she didn’t want to get roped into dancing again, and B) she didn’t want to have to watch him do it.

  Granted, he said it’d been a fluke, but still, the possibility was there, and now that she’d been up close to the physical perfection that was Bryan, now that she knew what he felt like and what he tasted like, and that he wanted her… She didn’t need that kind of temptation. She was juggling enough as it was.

  “Wook, Bwyan! Mr. Monkey wikes Wocco.”

  Trevor walked into the room, juggling the fishbowl—via Mr. Monkey’s slippery, sockpuppet hands.

  She and Bryan both ran over and grabbed the bowl before it crashed to the floor.

  “You know, Trev.” Bryan steered their son toward his grandmothers. “Rocco doesn’t like to get moved around. It sloshes his water all over his bowl.”

  “Does he get seasick?”

  “He can, yes. Fish don’t hang out in the waves, they like to stay in the calmer waters.”

  “Oh. Did I scare him?” Trevor’s thumb zoomed right into his mouth.

  Bryan patted him on the shoulder while Jenna dealt with the fish crisis. “You didn’t mean to scare him and Rocco knows that.”

  Jenna looked at the fish. Typically they didn’t live longer than a day or two. Rocco was on his last gills even without the wild ride. She’d better visit a pet store and find one that looked like him just in case. Trevor didn’t need to carry the death of his fish around on his shoulders for the rest of his life.

  “And, hey, I’d like to introduce you to my mom.” Bryan hiked Trevor onto his hip. “Mom, this is Trevor.”

  There were tears in Mrs. Lassiter’s eyes as she held out her hand. “Hello, Trevor. I’m very happy to meet you.”

  Jenna moved next to him when he started twirling his hair with his other hand. For all that he liked Bryan, the fact that he’d gone back to using his name instead of “Dad” meant he wasn’t quite as secure with Bryan’s place in his life as everyone would like.

  He slurped his thumb harder.

  Jenna tugged it free and wiped it off. “It’s okay, Trev. She’s… She’s your grandmother.”

  His violet eyes got big and round. “I have a gwandmofah?” His for-whatever-reason-Bostonian accent always got thicker when he was emotional.

  Jenna felt tears sting the backs of her eyes and she had to swallow around a lump of emotion before she could answer him.

  But Ellen got there first, her laugh a little too loud. “Of course you have a grandmother.” She rubbed his arm a little too roughly. “Don’t forget about me, Trevy.”

  No one called him Trevy.

  Bryan looked at Jenna.

  She gave a little shake of her head. “That’s right, Trev. Ellen’s your grandmother, too.” She looked at Mrs. Lassiter. “My mother prefers to be called by her first name rather than grandmother. She said it gets confusing at the playground with all the kids calling out for their grandmothers.” No one ever called out for Ellen—but that was her own choice.

  “Oh, well he can certainly call me Grandma,” said Mrs. Lassiter, sagely removing her hand. “Or Nana, like my other grandchildren do.”

  “You have other grandchildren?” Ellen’s once-over of Bryan’s mother was far from subtle. “Aren’t you the little homemaker?”

  “Thank you.” Mrs. Lassiter smiled with genuine pride. The woman was no slouch; she knew Ellen had meant it as a slur, but she honestly didn’t care. And there might even be some pity in that smile.

  Ellen wouldn’t like that.

  Jenna liked Mrs. Lassiter even more for recognizing what was important in life.

  “Okay, then. Now that the introductions are out of the way…” Bryan set Trev down. “Want to see what my mom brought you?”

  Trevor reached for Jenna’s hand. “Is it my birfday?”

  “No, sweetheart,
but since this is the first time she’s met you, she wanted to bring you a present.”

  “Oh. Cool.”

  “I brought you something, too, Trevy.”

  Ellen’s voice grated across Jenna’s nerves. “Mom, let’s have him open one gift at a time so it’s not so overwhelming.”

  Her mother’s smile went brittle.

  Just like Jenna’s nerves. This was going to be a long dinner.

  ***

  The dinner wasn’t quite as bad as it could have been—even though she was seriously tempted to use a steak knife to cut the tension—Mrs. Lassiter had mentioned rib-eye was Bryan’s favorite cut when she’d called to ask if she could bring dessert—but Bryan did an excellent job of keeping everything friendly and moving forward while they ate.

  Trevor was happily playing with the T-rex figurines Mrs. Lassiter had brought—a tidbit about her son Jenna had shared during that same conversation about Mrs. Lassiter’s son. She was a lovely woman, just so thrilled to have someone else to love.

  Ellen settled down once the focus was off Trevor. Well, the direct focus, since he was the reason they were all having dinner together. But Mrs. Lassiter—Tabitha as she insisted Jenna call her—knew how to handle children and was content to watch him as his dinosaurs stomped on a pea that had rolled off his plate.

  “He has one more year of preschool, but then he’ll go to kindergarten. It’s a full day program and I think he’ll do well.” Jenna scooped some more buttered noodles onto Trevor’s plate. They were his favorite. This week.

  “Jenna didn’t go to preschool. I taught her everything she needed to know. We were inseparable back then.”

  Jenna looked at her mother. She hadn’t known that. Wouldn’t have figured it either. “Really?”

  Ellen munched on a pea. Just one. She was fanatical about watching her figure. “Oh, yes. I was so thrilled to have you. We’d tried for so long, you know, and then when you came along, I just had to spend every minute with you. I gave up my career, my friends, all the traveling we’d done so I could.”

  Was this a guilt trip or one down Memory Lane?