“Like the song?”
His forehead creased. “What?”
“Hmm, you haven’t seen Frozen?”
“No clue what you’re talking about.”
“It’s a kid’s movie. It was all the rage.”
“Nope.” He reached for his coat. Tugged it on. Pulled out his gloves. “Gotta get moving. I’ll check on you later. See if you need things moved around.”
He went to the door, and as he opened it, there stood Scarlett’s mother and father. “Brad!” her mother enthused, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Leaving?”
“Have more snow to shovel and I really want to rest. Got off at eight this morning.”
“You didn’t sleep yet?” Scarlett asked, frowning.
“Got in a couple of hours at the firehouse,” he evaded. “Catch you all later.” He started to leave, then turned around and looked at her for a beat too long. He seemed to be struggling to say something. “I really am glad you are here.” His voice had gone down an octave and he cleared his throat before breaking his stare.
Scarlett could feel the energy between them as she watched Brad go down the back porch steps, shovel in hand. Heard the scrape and whoosh come from somewhere behind the back porch before the door closed. The sound jostled her from the trance she was in. He was clearing the patio.
“I can’t believe you’re finally here!” Her mother, obviously oblivious to what just happened, drew Scarlett in for a huge hug, her quilted down parka cold against Scarlett’s skin. “How was the drive? Long, I’m sure from your texts. Where’s my beautiful granddaughter?”
“She’s upstairs watching a movie,” Scarlett said.
Her mother peeled off her coat, her boots dripping melted snow on the gray tile floor. “Mom, shoes,” Scarlett admonished. Thank goodness Brad wasn’t here to see the mess.
Her mom glanced down. “Oh, yes. I’ll clean it. I’m just so excited. I can’t believe I’m going to get to see Colleen every day. I’ve already scheduled her first grandmom’s playdate. Oh, and we do need to talk preschools. Or at least a mother’s-day-out program.” Boots and coat were dropped in the middle of the floor as her mother called, “Colleen! Granny’s here!” and headed up the backstairs.
Scarlett stared helplessly at her dad, who simply shrugged. “Sorry.”
“She can’t just take over now that I’m home,” Scarlett said, retrieving her mom’s things. She set the coat on a chair and the shoes on the doormat. Her father had grabbed a paper towel and was already wiping the floor. “Dad, I would have gotten that.”
“It’s no problem,” her dad said, opening the cabinet she’d seen Brad open earlier, the one with the trash can. “Been cleaning after your mom’s enthusiasm for years. But now that you’re older, you’re on your own. Sorry, kiddo. My advice is that you’ll need to set the boundaries yourself and do it quickly. That’s what your sister-in-law Maureen had to do. But be prepared for push back. You know how your mom is.”
Maureen had been married to Scarlett’s brother for eight years. Neither had flown out for the memorial service, but Scarlett hadn’t expected her older brother because Sean had been downsized several months before Todd’s death—he and Maureen had three kids. Sean was working now, thankfully, and in reality, she would have done the same thing if every nickel counted. Heck, she was here because money was tight and she’d been unable to continue making mortgage payments on her dream home. Who knew she’d trade in that shack for a castle?
Temporary castle, she admonished herself. Despite Brad saying she could stay as long as she liked, she refused to take any charity for a minute longer than she needed. No matter how tempting the kitchen.
She could hear muted voices upstairs, and her father had gone back outside to the car. “Luckily Brad’s car is in the garage, I’m parked next to you,” he said, bringing in two armfuls of cloth grocery bags. He rubbed his feet three times on the mat. “Seeing that Brad bought you hamburger, your mom stocked up yesterday before the storm. She said it was crazy. People thinking they need milk and bread as if a few flakes are about to bring down the apocalypse. The roads out there are already clear.”
“San Diego could get somewhat crazy if a massive rainstorm was coming in.”
“Human nature to be prepared, I guess. Better than the alternative.” He set the grocery bags on the massive island and straightened. Nearing sixty, her dad still stood at six feet. His hair had turned white, and aside from the requisite wrinkles, he appeared in his prime. An avid cyclist, he hadn’t added any of the weight of most middle-aged men.
Brad hadn’t either, she realized. Despite the fisherman’s sweater, she could still see he was as cut as ever. Or was the word ripped? She wasn’t up on the current slang. He’d kept in top shape even after leaving the service. He’d always been built; Brad had been a three-season high school athlete: soccer goalie, baseball pitcher and swimming state champ. Todd hadn’t been too shabby either. The Navy had hardened him up, and she assumed they’d done the same to Brad. The SEALs had formed Todd into a living Greek sculpture. Their senior year, Todd had been the lead-off leg for a 200 IM relay that Brad had anchored. Their team had set the state record for the event. Scarlett still had the gold medal, in a box with more of Todd’s cherished mementoes. She’d put them away, saving them for Colleen.
Her mom returned, sans Colleen. She’d pulled the stocking cap off her head, making her red hair frizz. She looked like a wild version of Mrs. Weasley from Harry Potter.
“I love this kitchen,” her mom said. “Huge. Oh, good. The food’s in.” She reached for the bag. “I bought you pork chops and…” Her voice trailed off, thought derailed, as she began to load everything into its place. Scarlett busied herself with opening drawers. While part of her was grateful the heavy lifting was finished, she liked to organize her kitchen herself. Put items where she wanted them.
As it was already done, probably no point in moving things around now. Easier to learn where everything was.
Her mom pulled out a package of K-cup hot cocoa. “Figured you could try these in that fancy machine over there. Colleen still loves hot chocolate, right?”
“She had some this morning. We were only missing the whipped cream.”
“And I remembered that.” Her mom pulled out a red-and-white can with a red plastic cap. “Hot cocoa’s always better with whipped cream. Oh, and remember, you need to shop at Schnucks over on Arsenal. It’s the best grocery store in this area. I don’t like the one farther south on Grand.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Scarlett said.
“I looked up your address and you’re in St. Pius,” her mother said as she stowed the last of the groceries.
“I hadn’t checked.” Organized religion wasn’t high on Scarlett’s list of priorities.
“The boundary is Shenandoah, so you squeaked in by literally a block. So you’ll be in our parish.”
“That’s great,” Scarlett offered with little enthusiasm. She could already picture her leisurely Sunday mornings vanishing.
“As it doesn’t have a school, you need to send Colleen to St. Margaret of Scotland, just over in the Shaw neighborhood. You can actually walk there from here. You’ll find in nice weather that most people do. I’ve already contacted the principal on your behalf and the school is holding a spot for Colleen for next August. Brad said that’s his parents’ parish. I asked him yesterday. They’re right off of Flora, aren’t they?”
“Yes. But his dad’s Jewish.”
“But is he Catholic? You met him in high school.”
“Just because we all went to Bishop DuBourg doesn’t mean he’s Catholic. I’ve never asked him. Never seemed relevant. Maybe he is. I don’t know.”
Her mom shrugged. “Well, these things don’t really matter anymore in this day and age. He’s still welcome at our fish fry. In fact, your dad and I could use your help. And Brad’s if he wants. The more the merrier.”
Her mom ran the roost and Scarlett realized her dad was right. If sh
e didn’t set the boundaries quickly, her mom would have Scarlett’s life planned out for the next five years.
“Mom…” Scarlett caught her dad’s amused expression and sighed in exasperation. “I haven’t even been home twenty-four hours and you’ve got playdates and fish fries set up. Can you at least let me unpack?”
Her mother wasn’t in the slightest bit put off. “Don’t want the grass to grow under your feet.”
“It’s February and the grass is dead,” Scarlett pointed out drolly.
“Exactly.” Her mom missed the gist, whether intentionally or not was anyone’s guess. “Our first fish fry is the twentieth.”
“It’s only the fourth. I think.” Scarlett wasn’t really sure. She’d lost track of the days once her entire routine had been to get up, pack, eat, pack, sleep, repeat.
“Well, you picked a good month to come. Colleen will love the pet parade. That’s next Sunday in Soulard. Then there’s the Mardi Gras parade, but that’s probably too risqué for her, although the city has worked to make it a family event. So, can we plan on attending the pet parade?”
“Sure,” Scarlett conceded, before her human-bulldozer mother piled on more things. Colleen would love the pet parade. Scarlett had no objections there.
“Perfect. We’ll do mass the night before.”
“Mom…” Scarlett protested. “Enough. I don’t need you giving me something to do each day. I’ve been on my own since eighteen. Todd’s been gone two years. Let me do this. I’m an adult.”
“Okay, fine.” Her mom shooed an invisible fly. “I’m just so excited you’re home. Our visits to California weren’t nearly enough and you never came home once because flying cost too much. I’ve always wanted both of my children near me. We need to make up for lost time.”
“Bernadette, they have lives of their own too,” her father inserted, guiding the conversation safely to a close. “Scarlett, we are here to help you with the house. What do you need us to do?”
“Colleen’s bedroom. I really want that done today. She slept with me last night, but I want her to feel at home in her new room.”
“Then let’s get going,” her dad said. “Lead the way.”
Chapter Three
By a little after four, Scarlett felt somewhat accomplished. Colleen’s room was at 90 percent. White bookshelves brimmed with books, stuffed animals and dolls. Her father had installed white decorative shelves and hung pictures. Clothes were on hangers in the closet and also folded neatly inside drawers.
After a forty-minute break for lunch, they’d worked straight through. They’d even put up the curtains that matched Colleen’s pink-and-white floral bedspread. Those were mostly decoration, for Colleen’s two windows looked at the brick exterior wall of the house next door. She wouldn’t even need a shade or mini blinds. The back bedroom would have had a better view, but this way Colleen was closer. They could always move her room later, when she was older.
Scarlett caught herself. She had to stop making long-range plans. This arrangement wasn’t permanent. Her phone buzzed with a text. At back door. Can I come in?
In the chaos she hadn’t heard the bell. Sure, she texted back to Brad.
He appeared upstairs within seconds. “Hey. Looking good.”
He’d meant Colleen’s room, but Scarlett flushed anyway.
“Hi, Brad!” Colleen said, diverting his attention. “My room is all pretty!”
“It is.” Brad’s gaze swept over all the pink and white before returning to Scarlett. “Did you hear the bell?”
Scarlett shook her head. “No.”
He frowned. “Okay. Good to know. When I put in the alarm system, I wired it so it could handle an intercom system that was tied to the doorbell. I’ll get that installed ASAP. That way you’ll know when someone’s at the door if you’re up here. Need to go sand and mud upstairs. Do you mind?”
“Of course not,” her mom said before Scarlett could speak.
But Brad waited for Scarlett’s confirmation. “Go ahead,” she told him. “We’re done here. I’m about to start fixing dinner.”
“Which you must stay for,” her mother insisted. “And do not say no.”
“I’d like that, if you don’t mind.” Brad again looked to Scarlett for confirmation. He’d been about to protest, Scarlett knew. “I’ll only be about thirty minutes.”
“What are you doing?” her father asked.
“Come up and see,” Brad offered. He led the way to the staircase, and everyone followed. Once they reached the landing, the third floor opened up. Ceilings were ten feet at their highest point, and like on the first floor, there were three rooms, but here each had dormer windows. He’d also installed skylights, which were currently covered with snow, making the heavy glass appear dappled gray. Despite this, the third floor was filled with bright light. “These two rooms are finished, as is the bathroom.” He opened a white six-panel door, still in need of paint. While not as large as the bathrooms on the lower floors, this bathroom still had a good-sized sink, shower and toilet. Light came in through a round skylight. “I envisioned this floor as a sort of his-and-her office space, along with a playroom,” Brad said. “So I made some built-in bookcases for toy storage.”
In the front room, Brad had created built-in shelves using two-by-fours and drywall. They were a seamless part of the wall, and had recessed lighting. He’d also surrounded the window overlooking Victor Street with built-in shelves, and he’d created a huge window seat in the process. Scarlett could already envision the cushion and curling up with Colleen to read her favorite story. “It still needs two more coats,” Brad said.
“This is great work,” Scarlett’s dad said. “Need some help? We can let the ladies make the dinner.”
“I can help,” Scarlett offered.
“Do you know how to sand?” her father asked.
“I’ll teach you next time,” Brad offered, sensing her disappointment.
“Okay. Come on, Colleen,” Scarlett said, and they made their way down to the kitchen.
“Who knew he could be so handy,” her mom gushed. Brad had already won her mom over. But then he’d easily charmed most women. The fact he’d been somewhat standoffish with Scarlett had always rankled. “I wonder where he learned to do all this. Todd didn’t have these skills, did he?”
“No. But Todd came from a family of teachers, remember? They lived in Richmond Heights.”
“Have you talked to them since you came back?”
“They both retired last June. Sold the house and moved to an apartment so they could travel. They’ll be back in town a day or two after the twentieth. They left in mid-January for a month in Australia and New Zealand.”
“Must be nice,” her mom remarked.
“Mom,” Scarlett warned. “What else are they supposed to be doing? Todd was their miracle baby and he’s gone. I’m glad Larry and Louise went on a dream trip. They deserve it. They can’t take their money with them.”
“They could put some money in a fund for Colleen.”
“Colleen is never going to have to worry about paying for college. That’s all taken care of. It’s actually the one thing I don’t have to worry about.” Scarlett washed the pork chops and set them on a plate. “And she Skypes with them all the time, so she hasn’t forgotten them any more than she’s forgotten you.”
“I wasn’t worried about being forgotten.” Her mother opened the Viking stove. Peered inside. “Has this ever been used?”
“I highly doubt it,” Scarlett replied, opening cabinets and looking for her spices.
“This thing must have cost a fortune.”
Scarlett had no idea. She’d given up looking at those home magazines years ago because all they did was depress her. “Surely it can’t be that hard to set the rack and turn on the broiler.”
“Have you looked inside this thing?” her mother asked.
Scarlett set down the spice containers she’d found and came over to peer into the oven. “Wow.”
“Exa
ctly.” Her mother maneuvered a rack into place. “This must be how the other half live.”
“Well, if he’s going to sell the house for top dollar down the road, it has to be done well,” Scarlett defended.
“Why would he even want to sell? It’s perfect. Besides, the market hasn’t recovered this much.”
Scarlett studied the control panel. Pressed some buttons. The broiler came to life. Success! She’d won this round. “I’ve got to get the pork chops seasoned. What else did you bring?”
“I made mashed potatoes last night and we had leftovers, so I brought them. There’re some cans of green beans in that pantry over there.”
Scarlett took out two cans. Set them on the counter. Went back to readying the pork chops.
“Can I help, Mommy?” Sitting at the island, Colleen had finished coloring a picture.
“After you hang up your picture. I saw a magnet…” Scarlett opened a drawer and then another one. Then stopped. The refrigerator was built-in. “Oh honey, this refrigerator doesn’t have a front.”
Colleen’s lips quivered as the enormity of the move hit. She held her picture, which was of a bunch of snowflakes, trees and a three-story house. “Where am I going to put my pictures? I drew our new home.”
One thing about four-year-olds, they could easily turn into two-year-olds if stressed enough. “We’ll work something out,” Scarlett said, trying to avert a meltdown. “What if Granny opens the green beans and you can pour them into the pot?”
“But where is my picture going?” Colleen’s voice inched higher.
“We will hang it later. We’ll get a bulletin board. Put it…” She glanced around the kitchen. “We’ll hang it over there.”
“I want to hang it now,” she insisted. “Our new house needs my pictures.”
“Come pour green beans.” Scarlett’s mom tried to divert her granddaughter.
But Colleen wasn’t having any of it. She was tired from a long trip. Her entire life had been uprooted. She could sense her mother’s tension and reluctance. It really was the tiny things, like the straw that broke the camel’s back, which caused childhood meltdowns. Overwhelmed, Colleen began to cry. “I want to go home.”
Fan The Flames (Man Of The Month Book 3) Page 4