by Roth, Ann
“Thanks.” He wiped his boots on the mat, stepped inside and glanced around. From where he stood in the living room he easily took in the kitchen and hallway that led to Emmy’s and Jesse’s bedrooms.
“Nice little place.” He sniffed. “I smell paint.”
“That’s because I’m painting Jesse’s room. Right now it’s pink.” She wrinkled her nose.
“So you’re changing it to blue?” Brian nodded at her hair, and his mouth twitched. “Good color, but truthfully? I think you look better with light brown hair. You should wear a hat when you paint.”
“Too late now.” Emmy hadn’t realized about her hair. She touched her crown, felt the stiff paint and laughed. “That’s what happens when you roller the ceiling. Would you like a drink while I fill the bottles? By the way, all I have is tap water.”
“No problem. Tap water sounds great, thanks.”
Emmy took a glass from the newly papered cabinet shelf. “Does Mac know you’re here?”
“He knows.”
She filled the glass from the faucet. “Would you like to sit down?”
Looking regretful, Brian shook his head. “That’d be nice, but I can’t stay that long.”
Emmy didn’t plan to say another word, but while Brian drank and she filled the empty bottles, she blurted out her thoughts.
“Mac doesn’t seem to like me.”
“He was nasty this morning, that’s for sure.” Brian wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “If it helps any, Ian and I think you handled him just right.”
He loaded the glass into the dishwasher, impressing Emmy. She really did need to teach Jess to do that. She liked Brian, who seemed a good deal warmer than his older brother.
“I don’t appreciate being dismissed like some stray dog,” she said.
“Believe me, I get that. The thing about Mac is, he’s got a short time frame and a huge amount of work to do. Plus he tends to concentrate totally on the job. That focus is one reason why everybody in town wants to hire him and why he’s stayed single.”
This was interesting to know, but no excuse for the man’s terse, abrupt manner. “I don’t care how focused he is. He shouldn’t treat anyone like that. You and Ian are so much friendlier. That counts for something, too. I’ll bet that even after Mac leaves town, you’ll bring in tons of business.”
“We’ll give it our best shot. The important thing is to keep the company going till he finishes school. That’s what he wants.”
With his voice expressionless and a face this side of gloomy, Brian seemed less than enthused. Emmy eyed him. “You don’t really want to work in construction, do you?”
He shrugged. “I’m a media communications major. I’d rather go to grad school, earn my PhD and teach at a university.”
“So do it and let Ian run the business.”
“Not his thing, either. He’s a computer geek. He’s turned down job offers from Microsoft, Google and a couple of consulting companies. But hey, it’s only for three years. Seeing the world is a longtime dream of Mac’s. So is getting a college degree. Our parents were big on that. It’s only fair he does it as a full-time student. After everything he did for us…”
Emmy didn’t know Mac well, but she couldn’t picture him forcing his brothers to run his business when they wanted other things. “If you tell him how you feel, I’m sure he’ll understand,” she said. “He’ll find someone else to take over.”
Brian shot her a panicked look. “Please, don’t say anything.”
“I won’t,” Emmy promised, turning off the tap. But never one to keep her opinions to herself, she voiced them. “I know that your parents died when you were young and that Mac raised you, so I understand why you feel indebted to him. That doesn’t mean you should give up your dreams to work in his company. I can’t imagine he’d want you to.”
“He wouldn’t.” Brain screwed the tops onto the bottles. “That’s why he’ll never know.”
Emmy frowned. “I’m confused.”
“Let me explain. Mac gave up a full, four-year scholarship to take care of us.”
“That’s quite the sacrifice.”
“He never talks about it. Back in high school he was something special, both a star tackle on the football team and a merit scholar. Everyone looked up to him—girls and guys and even the teachers. Half-a-dozen colleges offered him a free ride.”
Given his size and muscular body, the athletic part wasn’t surprising. That he was smart, too, only made him more appealing. “Wow,” Emmy said. “That’s impressive.”
What a shame that he hadn’t been able to take advantage of the educational opportunities offered him.
“His life before our parents’ accident wasn’t so hot, either,” Brian went on. “Things were pretty tense. Mom and Dad were gone a lot. They both worked long hours at their jobs. When they were home at the same time, they mostly ragged on each other, and on us. For as long as I can remember, way before they died, Mac was the one who made sure Ian and I ate nutritious meals and wore clean clothes, stuff he taught himself. When we turned ten, he showed us how to cook and do the laundry, figuring we could do like he had and look after ourselves. He couldn’t wait to graduate and leave home.”
Emmy could see why. All that responsibility on a young kid’s shoulders…As painful as her own childhood had been, she’d never had to worry about anyone else in the family. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what Mac’s life must have been like. Her heart ached for the little boy forced to grow up so quickly. Who’d never had the chance to enjoy his own childhood.
“I had no idea,” she murmured.
“Now you know. He sacrificed a lot to keep us together. Ian and I will never forget that. We owe Mac big, and three years out of our lives is nothing.” He gave Emmy a straight-on look. “If we had to, we’d die for him.”
She had no doubt that was true. Despite hardships and pain, Mac was deeply loved. Which made him a very lucky man. Even if he was curt and unfriendly.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said. “And don’t worry, you can trust me to keep your secret.”
“Figured I could.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Brian grinned, then glanced at the wall clock. “Whoa, I’ve been here a while. I’d best get back before Mac comes looking for me. Thanks again for the water.”
“I’m glad you stopped by.” Liking this man very much, Emmy walked him to the door. “You’re welcome here, so come back anytime. Ian, too. And…and Mac.”
Not that he was off the hook. But the guy might need to use the bathroom or her sink.
“I’ll pass that along. See you later, and good luck with the painting.”
MAC LEANED OVER the porch and tossed a load of plasterboard into the Dumpster. The fine drizzle had stopped, but it sure was damp and cold. He grimaced. He wouldn’t miss this weather. The school bus chugged to a stop in front of Emmy’s. The door opened and Jesse hurried down the bus steps like a prison inmate heading for freedom. His jacket was tied around his waist and his backpack hung over one narrow shoulder. As the bus doors clapped shut, his back straightened and his chin jutted out.
A defensive pose that reminded Mac of the boy’s mother the first day they’d met.
He’d thought about her surprising apology several times this morning. And how a short while later she’d put him in his place for his own brusque behavior. Which, after thinking it over, he realized he deserved. He felt pretty bad for acting like that.
His actions weighed on his mind the whole damn day, no thanks to Brian and Ian. They liked Emmy, and after Brian filled the water bottles at her place he’d yammered on and on about how cool she was. With all that, who could think about anything else?
As the bus pulled away, a few of the kids glanced through the windows. One pointed and laughed at Jesse, cruel actions that had Mac stiffening. The boy gave no indication of noticing, just stood tall and slid his eyes to the black stripes on the side of the vehicle.
>
The second the bus rounded the curve, his shoulders slumped. He kicked a rock, sending it and a clump of mud flying. By the looks of things, his first day at school had been a hell of a rough one.
Though Mac had never experienced the horror of kids laughing at him, he knew that carrying the weight of the world on your back was no fun. He felt for the boy.
“Hey, Jesse,” he called out. “How you doin’?”
Apparently Jesse hadn’t noticed him before, for he glanced toward Mac with a surprised expression. “Hey, Mac.”
At that moment Ian and Brian tromped through the front door, carrying a pile of trash between them.
“You’re Jesse, right?” Ian said as he and Brian sidled toward the porch railing.
“How’d you know my name?”
His biceps bulging with effort, Brian grunted a reply. “Your mom told us about you.” He didn’t speak again until he and Ian had hefted their load into the Dumpster. “I saw the new color for your bedroom ceiling,” he said, wiping his palms on the thighs of his jeans. “Reminds me of a summer sky in the afternoon. Real nice.”
“Uh, okay.”
Jesse looked wary, and no wonder. He had no idea who he was talking to.
“Don’t mind these two jokers,” Mac said as he moved down the steps. “They’re my kid brothers, Ian and Brian.”
The boy’s eyes rounded. “You guys are twins, right?”
Both brothers laughed and followed Mac down the steps.
“Identical, but we try to make it easy on people.” Brian touched the hair brushing his collar. “That’s why I wear my hair long.”
“And why I grew a mustache and goatee,” Ian said. “And also because I’m a computer geek—when I’m not building kitchens.”
“Cool.” Jesse turned his attention to the Dumpster. “Wow, you guys put a lot of garbage in there.”
“We’ve been at it since first thing this morning, and we’re not done yet,” Mac said. “Ripping out the back of the kitchen and stripping the ceiling and other walls down to nothing but the framing takes time. And hard work.” He rubbed the small of his back, which ached.
“What’s framing?”
“The beams and such that hold up the walls and roof,” Brian said.
Ian nodded. “Like the bones in your body support you.”
“Can I see it?” Jesse asked.
Mac didn’t see why not. “Sure.”
As the boy deposited his backpack and jacket on the wet ground, Emmy’s door opened. In baggy, old clothes, her hair in a ponytail and a blue smear on one cheek, she looked cute. Her quick, unsmiling glance at Mac doubled his guilt for treating her so coolly this morning.
“Jesse, hi!” She hurried forward, as if anxious to be near him. “Where are you going?”
“Mac said I could see Mr. and Mrs. Rutherford’s kitchen. He and his brothers took down the walls and ceiling and stuff. They’re gonna show me the framing. It’s kind of like your bones.”
The kid actually sounded excited. Mac figured Emmy’d be happy about that. Wrong. She frowned.
“But I haven’t seen you all day,” she said, plucking his backpack and jacket from the ground and brushing them off. “You’re always hungry after school. You need a snack, and I’m anxious to hear about your day. And wait’ll you see your room! I’m almost finished, and the colors look great.”
She was painfully eager to shower her son with attention, and Jesse looked embarrassed by it.
“I don’t want to right now. I want to see what Mac and his brothers are doing.”
“Oh.” Emmy’s face fell. “Of course.”
Her son had hurt her without even realizing it. Kids could be so thoughtless. Jesse had no idea how lucky he was to have a mother who loved him, who wanted to spend time with him and cared about his day.
Mac hated to see Emmy so downhearted. Here was his chance to atone for his earlier sins. As Jesse turned his back on her and started toward Mac, he gestured for the boy to stop. “You go have that snack, talk to your mom and check out your new room. Then come over.”
“Do I have to?” Jesse asked, rolling his eyes.
Mac nodded. “We’re here another hour or so today, and nearly every day for the next six weeks. There’s plenty of time to see the kitchen.”
“Okay.” The boy exhaled loudly. “If I have to.”
All Mac had done was ask Emmy’s son to spend a little while with her, but she gave him a grateful smile, a smile that warmed him. She’d forgiven him and he felt like a million bucks.
That bothered him big-time because despite thinking about Emmy most of the day, he’d almost convinced himself that he wasn’t interested in her, that she was on his mind because his brothers kept dropping her name.
Now he knew he’d been fooling himself. He liked Emmy Logan. All too much.
Chapter Four
Tuesday morning Jesse dragged himself into the kitchen wearing yet another Street Kings T-shirt, the same baggy jeans and sneakers as yesterday—sadly, the school had not sent a note home asking him to wear nicer clothes—and a hostile expression as familiar as the gelled-down cowlick at the crown of his head.
And he’d been in such high spirits at bedtime last night, his mood propelled by the hour he’d spent with Mac and his brothers. Jesse’d come home animated and happy, his lightheartedness so like the child he was before his father had walked away and he’d forgotten how to laugh. Yes, he’d still balked at helping with the dinner dishes and had fought bedtime, but his upbeat attitude persisted.
Emmy had prayed it lasted, but this morning her son was his normal glum self. Which added an invisible load to her shoulders, a burden born of worry and concern. And her own fatigue. Thanks to a miserable night on the lumpy sofa, while Jesse slept in her bed, she wasn’t in the best humor, either.
Tired and grumpy as she felt, she wanted to coax back Jesse’s good mood, start his day on a cheerful note. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said, smiling.
“Morning.”
She handed him his orange juice and he sat down at the table. Emmy freshened her coffee, then joined him.
When he drained his glass and stared broodingly into space, she slid the cereal box toward him. “You’d better eat while you have time.”
His mouth tightened. “I’m not going to school today.”
And wasn’t this an instant replay of yesterday? Would tomorrow be the same, and the next day and the next? Emmy fervently hoped not. “You’re going,” she said. “Period.”
“But I could help unpack boxes and put up the posters in my room. You said the paint fumes should be gone now, and you want me to help.”
Looking forward to sleeping in her own bed tonight, Emmy nodded. “I do, and you will, this evening. Now, eat.”
Jesse filled his bowl. Instead of wolfing down his breakfast as he had the day before, this morning he ate little. The air was heavy with his melancholy. He hadn’t enjoyed his first day at school and clearly dreaded the second.
Stomach tight with anxiety, Emmy touched his tense forearm. “Moving to a new town and new school isn’t easy. You’ve only been once. Give it time.”
Jess batted her hand away. “Time won’t help. I hate it here.”
“If you’ll just try, Jesse—”
“I don’t want to talk about it!” He glared at her, then glued his eyes to the back of the cereal box. Shutting her out.
By now she should be used to the hostile silences, but they always stung. Especially when he was hurting and needed her. Couldn’t he see that she was here for him and always would be, no matter what?
Refusing to give up, Emmy tried again. “Once you get the hang of things and make friends, I know you’ll feel differently.”
“What friends?” Her son curled his lip. “Nobody here likes me. They’re all lame, anyway.”
Words that pained her deeply. “When they get to know you, they’ll love you just as I do. You’ll see.”
A yearning look filled Jesse’s face, gone in a bl
ink. His expression darkened. “I wish I was back in Oakland. Why’d you do this to me, Mom?”
“You know why!” Emmy heard her voice rise and snapped her mouth shut. Getting mad wouldn’t help matters. After a deep, calming breath, she continued in a normal, reasonable tone. “I’ve told you before, we’re not going back—ever. So put the idea out of your mind for good. Now, tell me about Mrs. Hatcher. Is she as nice as people say?”
She’d asked the same question after school yesterday. In a hurry to join Mac across the road, Jess had merely shrugged. Later, afraid of taking his smile away, Emmy had steered clear of mentioning school.
“She’s okay.”
With his head bent over his cereal, Emmy couldn’t see his eyes. “I can’t wait to meet her this afternoon,” she said, hoping this would elicit some information.
Now her son looked up with a stricken expression. “You’re not going to tell her what I said about the kids at school, are you?”
“I don’t know,” Emmy said. “The subject may come up.”
“Aw, geez.” Jesse cringed. “I don’t have to be there when you talk to her, do I?”
Wanting this first meeting to be just her and Mrs. Hatcher, Emmy shook her head. “You can wait for me in the school library and we’ll ride home together.”
His spoon clattered against the bowl. “I don’t want to ride with you, and I don’t want to go to school.” When Emmy set her jaw, Jesse quickly added, “But since you’re making me, I’ll take the bus back and wait for you here.”
His challenging look made her want to scream. Working to remain calm, she attempted to reason with him. “You know I can’t leave you alone, Jess. Who’d look after you?”
“I’m eleven years old. I don’t need a babysitter.”
Yet another battle that had begun with Tyrell. Having been on his own for years, the sixteen-year-old Street Kings leader thought Jesse should be, too. He also thought Jesse should own a gun. Emmy shuddered.
“I know how to pour myself a glass of milk and make a sandwich,” her son said. “I know how to use the phone if there’s an emergency. I’ll be fine by myself.”