by Knupp, Amy
“YOU REALIZE this is going to be hell, don’t you?” Carey asked Devin as they drove to her mom’s house to meet her new boyfriend.
“Of course. You warned me.”
She took a deep, silent breath. “Trent will be there.”
He stared at her, and she braced herself to be kicked out of the truck and sent on her way. Instead, he raised his right shoulder in a half shrug. “We’ll be fine. I’ll ignore him.”
He’d do what? Was the earth flipping off its axis and tumbling through outer space?
Well. She’d take the break, if Devin and Trent could, indeed, ignore the animosity between them. The evening would be bad enough anyway.
She watched him as he concentrated on driving. God, he looked good tonight. He’d actually gone out of his way to look nice, which was rare. He wore a pair of khaki shorts and a white polo, which accented the golden color of his skin from time spent in the pool. He’d even shaved before he’d picked her up, and she wondered what it would be like to kiss him without all the stubble. Not that she didn’t like his whiskers, but she had the urge to explore the clean-shaven planes of his face. His eyes darted toward her as if he sensed her staring at him, taking inventory.
“My mom will be in rare form,” she said to distract him.
“Yeah. Should be interesting. I’ve never actually had an entire dinner with your mother.”
Pretty sad, but it was true. In all the years they’d been friends, the most he’d experienced of the glory that was Penny Langford Name-of-the-Day Stringer was a passing “goodbye” as she left on a date or a man hunt.
“Interesting is one word for it. Although…she seems to be trying to get along with me.”
“So it’ll just be the four of us?”
“And her latest conquest, Phillip the Stud.”
“With a name like Phillip, how can he be anything but studly?”
They shared a look, and Devin wagged his eyebrows, making her laugh.
As they pulled into the driveway of the tiny shoebox of a house her mother had rented since her last husband ditched her, the knot in Carey’s stomach tightened.
Maybe inviting Devin was dumb, considering the mutual animosity between him and Trent, but she hoped if an outsider was present, maybe her family would leave her alone about the whole lack-of-a-father thing.
So much for trying to keep her blood pressure down.
She grabbed Devin’s arm as they strolled up the walkway to the front door. “Wait,” she said, pulling him to a halt. Her breast brushed his arm as he turned to face her, and she felt heat shoot up her insides. The desire to mold herself into him, to feel his breath on her lips, was almost overwhelming.
“Yes?” He glanced down at her chest as if he, too, had noticed the contact and its aftereffects.
Letting out a shaky breath, she took a second to remember what she’d wanted to say. “I…just wanted to warn you the whole topic of me being a single mom is still…touchy, to put it mildly.”
“I won’t mention it.” He took her elbow as they ascended the concrete stairs.
“Well, look who’s here,” her brother said from the screened front door.
“Trent,” Devin said stiffly.
Ah, perfect. The evening was deteriorating before they could even set foot inside.
“Colyer.” Trent’s chin notched higher in challenge and Carey wanted to push him out of the way.
Instead, she merely pulled Devin past her brother into the house. The air was stuffy, and not just because of the company. The temperature had to be at least ten degrees warmer than it was outside. Thanks to the thermal heater in her stomach, Carey was already over-heated.
“Hello, sweetheart,” her mother called from the kitchen.
“Mom?” Carey walked out to the kitchen to find her. As she rounded the corner into the tiny room, they nearly collided. Her mom, in a pair of white linen shorts and a red sleeveless shirt with thong sandals showing off red polish on her toenails, looked even younger than usual and…happy.
“I’m so glad you made it.”
She pulled Carey into an uncharacteristic hug. Over her mother’s shoulder, Carey’s gaze rammed into a hulking man who must have stood about six-five and four feet across. He wasn’t overweight, just so large it didn’t seem there was room for him in the miniscule kitchen. His graying hair was becoming, and his smile seemed genuine. Laugh lines surrounded his eyes. There was a grittiness around his edges that suggested he didn’t do office work, and Carey remembered her mother saying he was in construction. His skin was dark, roughened from what she guessed was a lifetime of working outdoors. This man wasn’t her mom’s type at all.
She cleared her throat, waiting to be introduced to him.
“Carey, meet Phillip Weisbrenner. My beautiful daughter, Carey, and this is Devin…”
“Colyer,” Carey reminded her.
They exchanged greetings, and Carey could barely take her eyes off her mother’s beau. It wasn’t only his looks that attracted her attention, but his manner, his overall attitude. He had an energy that suggested he enjoyed life. Based on her impression after the first five minutes, she suspected he was a well-adjusted human being, which was a whole new concept for her mom.
Nearly every other man she’d dragged home over the years had screamed complex unresolved issues. It had usually taken Carey about a week, max, to figure out exactly what was wrong with each one. Among her mom’s collection there’d been at least one alcoholic, a freeloader and one with an ego the size of Texas. And those were just the ones she’d married.
She truly wondered how her mother had snagged this one. And how long it would take for the bliss to come to an end and her mom to find herself alone yet again.
“Why don’t we go out to the backyard and get comfortable? Phillip has agreed to grill steaks. He can watch the grill while we talk.”
Carey said a double prayer of thanks, both for the escape from the stifling kitchen and that her mom wasn’t cooking. Before leaving the kitchen, though, she sent Devin out and grabbed a beer for him and a glass of lemonade for herself. A good hostess her mother would never be.
On her way out, Trent caught up with her. “I thought you told me you and Colyer weren’t an item.” His voice was friendly enough, but the question irked Carey anyway. Possibly because she wasn’t sure what she and Devin were.
“We aren’t. Like it’s any of your business.”
He watched her closely.
“What’s it to you, anyway? Why all the concern about my love life? I feel like I’m under a magnifying glass all of a sudden.”
He looked down at his feet. “I worry about you is all.”
“Worry about me, fine, but don’t act like a dictator. You’ve never been this way, Trent. Devin and I are close, as we have been for years. He’s not going away.” She started to walk off.
“He’s not going to fall in love with you.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Who said I want that?”
“You’re going to have a baby. It’s natural for you to want this guy to fall into the daddy role.”
“Fall into the daddy role?” Carey had to fight to keep her voice from rising. “You think I’m trying to get Devin to marry me? You couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“If I’m wrong, I’m sorry. But that’s how it looks from here when you suddenly start staying out all night with him.”
“I was helping him take care of his grandpa.”
Surprise registered on Trent’s face, but Carey didn’t care. He obviously had some kind of ax to grind, and she was the lucky grindstone.
“Kids?” Their mother’s cheerful voice singsonged from the patio, signaling their absence had been noticed.
Trent started toward the back door.
“Wait,” Carey said quietly. “There’s one thing I want to get straight.”
He stopped.
“Devin means a lot to me, regardless of what role he plays in my life. He’s been here for me while
you were in Alaska, out of touch. If you care as much about me as you say you do, you should be grateful to him, not hateful.”
He stared at her as she strode past him to the backyard.
When dinner was ready nearly an hour later, Carey was shocked the evening was going so well. Her mother had made polite conversation about things other than herself, Trent and Devin were playing nicely for the most part, and she was discovering she genuinely liked Phillip.
She stood near him at the grill, holding a large platter for him to place the meat on. “You know my mom’s a horrible cook, don’t you?”
Phillip smiled back. “She mentioned that several times. I haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing it firsthand though.”
“These steaks look great.” She started to carry the platter of beef inside when he stopped her.
“I’ll take that. Pregnant women shouldn’t have to lift a finger.” His expression was kind as he took the plate. He was one of the few people who’d gotten past the idea that she was single and pregnant. Instead of acting as though her life was doomed, he’d shown interest in her baby, sharing stories about his granddaughter when she’d been an infant.
Minutes later, they sat scattered around the living room, eating off TV trays since the kitchen table could only seat four. The house didn’t have a dining room. Carey frowned as she tried to cut her steak into bites, the tray wobbling back and forth along with the knife.
“All we need now is paper plates and plastic utensils,” Phillip joked as he watched her struggle, then turned his attention to his own battle.
“We’ll have more room soon,” her mom said, and Carey looked up, puzzled by the comment. “You want to tell them?”
Phillip shook his head. “Your family. You share the good news.”
Oh, boy. Carey instantly knew where this was heading.
“Phillip and I are getting married,” her mom announced proudly.
Carey wasn’t sure what to say. Congratulations seemed insincere, and best wishes were kind of pointless, considering her mother’s track record. “Good luck” would be most appropriate.
Trent was quiet as well, and she could tell when she glanced at him he had similar thoughts. The silence dragged on, but she couldn’t seem to form any words.
“Congratulations,” Devin said heartily, and she breathed a sigh of relief. He stood and crossed the small space to shake Phillip’s hand before resuming his place next to Carey. “When’s the big day?”
Carey knew Devin didn’t really care, but he came across as sincere, for which she was appreciative.
“Seven weeks away,” her mom replied. “We’ll have an outdoor ceremony at Phillip’s home, which will soon be my home, too. I’m moving in with him in a couple weeks when my lease runs out here.”
“Well, Mom,” Trent finally spoke up, nodding at her. “Phillip, good luck.” He got up to shake hands. “I know from experience, she’s difficult to live with. But then, from what I’ve seen, most women are.” The two men shared a laugh, and Carey wondered exactly what experience her brother had had of living with a woman—unless he meant her. The brunette from the Alaska pictures flashed into her mind.
When Trent sat back down, everyone seemed to focus on Carey, waiting for her to comment. “Phillip, you seem like a good guy,” she said. She turned to her mother. “Hold on to him, Mom.”
“I fully intend to.” Penny wound her arm around Phillip’s. She looked up at her fiancé and smiled. The warmth and affection that passed between them surprised Carey. She didn’t remember ever seeing her mother share something like that with a man. Usually, from Carey’s viewpoint, Penny’s relationships were one-sided.
“We like to think we’re finally old enough to figure this marriage thing out,” Phillip said. “Banking on the ol’ ‘practice makes perfect’ adage.”
This man had potential. His feelings were obvious from the wide smile on his face and the light in his eyes. She only hoped it was real and her mother wouldn’t end up disappointed once again.
An hour or so later, Carey, Devin and Trent decided it was time to leave the older couple alone. After-dinner conversation had been surprisingly pleasant, and maybe Carey was paranoid, but she figured the sooner they got out of there, the less chance there was for things to go south.
“Thanks for dinner, Mom,” Carey said. “And for cooking it, Phillip. You’ll complement Mom nicely in the kitchen. Or should I say you’ll complement her nicely if she stays out of the kitchen.”
“Listen to the expert,” Trent said lightly. “She takes a couple of cooking classes and watch out world.” He stepped toward Phillip and shook his hand. “Congratulations again, sir.” Then he turned to Penny. “Fifth time ought to be the charm, right, Mom?”
Penny’s grin froze, and panic flashed through her eyes. She glanced up at Phillip nervously, and Carey followed her gaze.
Phillip’s brows dipped low on his forehead and he shot a questioning look toward her mom, who effectively dodged it.
Something was amiss here, and Carey didn’t care to hang around and find out what. She moved toward the door, dragging Devin with her. “Bye, Mom, Phillip. Have a good night.”
When she looked over her shoulder at the couple inside the door, she could tell they were going to have anything but. Carey had just started to believe her mom might have a chance at a happy ending.
LESS THAN two hours later, Carey sat at the kitchen table at Trent’s. Her brother had gone out for drinks with an old friend, so she had the place to herself. Just her and a heaping bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream drenched with peanuts and whipped cream. She had the rough draft of a brochure for her wedding photography business next to the bowl, intending to proof it.
She’d just dug her spoon in to savor the first bite when she heard a knock at the door.
She wasn’t surprised to see her mother standing there, eyes red rimmed but dry.
“He doesn’t want me anymore,” Penny said in a quiet voice.
Carey backed up to let her mom in. She’d been through this scene many times before with her mother, but for once, she didn’t feel angry. She wasn’t sure why.
“What happened, Mom?” Carey led her to the table and they both sat.
“I hadn’t exactly told Phillip how many times I’ve been married. He only knew about two husbands.”
Carey shoveled a bite of dessert in her mouth before answering. “Uh…Mom? Why would you lie about something so important?”
“I didn’t lie, really.”
Carey hopped up. “Want some ice cream?”
Her mom nodded. “Not as much as you have though.”
Carey took a bowl from the cabinet and scooped out a small serving. “How did you not really lie about having four previous husbands?”
She set the bowl in front of her mom and lowered herself into the chair again to indulge.
“He’s never asked how many times I’ve been married. He asked me if I’d been married. I said yes. He asked about the man I’d been married to, and I told him about your father. And then I told him about Norm. Somehow the subject got changed, and we never finished the discussion.”
“So he assumed they were the only two.” Carey spooned some whipped cream out of her bowl. “You should’ve told him, Mom.”
Her mother barely touched her ice cream, pushed it away. “I meant to. But there was never a good time. What was I supposed to do? As we walk out of a movie say, ‘By the way, besides Robert and Norm, I’ve also been married to Jack and Ronald’?”
Carey shrugged. “You’re asking the wrong person for relationship advice.”
Her mother stood and paced across the kitchen. “I’m afraid there isn’t any relationship left.” Her voice was uncharacteristically quiet. Normally in breakup situations, she was in near-hysterics by now.
Carey was torn between feeling sad for her mom and wanting to shake her and say, “What did you expect?” Who could blame Phillip for bolting when he was hit over the head by such a whopper?
<
br /> But she’d seen how different her mom had been around him. In past relationships she’d been blatantly insecure, paranoid, just waiting for the guy to walk out. With Phillip, she seemed more…grown-up. Less clingy. Like maybe she was finally learning how to do the whole love thing.
But apparently not. Because here she was, hanging out with her single pregnant daughter, and Carey couldn’t shake the feeling that her mother would never learn. That she might as well give up on true love.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“DON’T YOU DARE pack my Gwyneth Paltrow movies!”
“Why would I take any of those?” Carey said, looking up at Trent from the floor in front of the entertainment center. “If I were going to steal something, I’d take someone with talent.” She rolled her eyes.
“Blaspheme.” He perched on the edge of the couch and watched her sort through the mass of videotapes and DVDs the two of them had acquired. “So you’re really going to do it, huh?
The friendliness in his tone surprised her. They’d hardly spoken since that dinner several days ago at their mom’s house. “Do what?”
“Move out.”
“Yep. I’m moving to my doctor’s garage apartment—not far from here.” She didn’t know why she offered that tidbit, to appease him or reassure him.
“You don’t have to go.”
“Actually, I do.” Jeeves crept up and stuck his front paws on her thigh.
“Have you given this serious thought, Carey?”
“Have you?” she asked. He surely couldn’t believe living with her and a newborn baby would be a good thing. “Do you know how many times a night a newborn cries?”
“I have a pretty good idea.” An odd look settled on his face.
She stroked the cat absently, searching Trent’s face. “Brother of mine, is there something you’re not telling me? You got a couple of kids stashed away somewhere?”
He whipped his head up quickly, then forced a smile. “No.” He joined her on the floor and helped her sort the tapes. The feline sauntered off, too good to be second in line for Carey’s attention. “I’m sorry, Carey.”