“You ought to be upstairs packing your bags right this second,” she muttered aloud.
“Oh, my God,” Maggie said, scaring Jo half to death. “She’s in here talking to herself.”
“Do you ever knock?” Jo groused as the door slammed shut behind all three sisters.
“Why would we?” Ashley asked reasonably. “We all have keys.”
“Maybe you should turn them in to me. I’d like to know I can count on some privacy around here,” Jo retorted.
“To do what?” Melanie asked, regarding her with amusement. “You having a fling you want to keep secret?”
There was no smart answer to that question, so Jo ignored it. A yes would definitely intrigue them. An honest answer—that she needed a break from them—would offend them.
“Why are you here?” she asked instead. “Just to make me nuts?”
“It’s our sisterly duty to check on you,” Ashley said.
“But daily? Is that really necessary?” she asked wryly.
“At a minimum,” Ashley said. “Maybe more if we don’t like what we find. Fortunately, it’s a small town. It’s not inconvenient for us to drop by.”
Now there was a barely veiled threat, Jo concluded. She regarded her sisters with dismay. “Don’t you all have husbands now?” she grumbled. “Shouldn’t they be the focus of your attention?”
“You wish,” Maggie said with a grin. “We know what they’re up to. They’re at my house grilling steaks. We give them an occasional men-only night, so they appreciate us more.”
Jo laughed. “How’s that working?”
“Amazingly well,” Melanie complained. “We’re beginning to think they get together just to talk about us and plot against us. It’s worrisome.”
“Really? Yet you still do it,” Jo said with an exaggerated shake of her head. “Very sad. I thought you all were smarter than that. You were my role models. Now I’m not so sure I should pay a bit of attention to you or your unsolicited advice. What exactly do you think they’re plotting?”
“Not so much plotting as exchanging information,” Maggie said. “For instance, Rick came home the other night and insisted on fixing me dinner. He knows I’m the cook in the family. I take pride in it. But one of them must have told him it would be a treat for me to have a night off. He would never have thought of that on his own.”
Jo stared at her. “Okay,” she said slowly. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing. What am I missing?”
Melanie nudged Maggie in the ribs. “Come on. Confess. You got all bent out of shape because you thought he was telling you he didn’t like your cooking.”
“Well, it did cross my mind,” Maggie said, looking vaguely flustered by having to admit to an uncharacteristic dip in her normally healthy self-esteem in the kitchen. “But after my second glass of wine and my first taste of the pesto sauce he made from scratch, I decided maybe I should just go with the flow. The man seems to know his way around the kitchen. Who’d have guessed it?”
“And that’s it?” Jo asked. “That’s the kind of devious plotting they’re up to over there tonight?”
“Pretty much,” Ashley said.
“Well, thank God they haven’t thought to include Pete yet,” she said with exaggerated relief.
“Pete?” All three women seized on her comment at once.
“Should they be including Pete?” Ashley inquired, her gaze narrowed. “What’s happened? Do our men need to check him out more thoroughly? Should I run a check into his background? I can do that, no problem.”
“Oh, stop it,” Jo ordered. “Nothing’s happened. I just meant that he is underfoot around here, so some people might leap to the conclusion that he should be dragged into this family mix thing. I was trying to make the point that I’m grateful he hasn’t been lured into such a web of male intrigue.”
“But these people who’d leap to that conclusion, they’d be wrong?” Ashley persisted. “You haven’t done something crazy, have you?”
“Crazy like what?” Jo asked, struggling to contain her impatience.
“Well, you do want that stupid house,” her big sister reminded her.
“We’ve been over this,” Jo said irritably. “There are limits to what I’ll do to get it.”
“Glad to hear it,” Ashley said. “I drove by it, by the way.”
“Me, too,” Melanie and Maggie chimed in.
“I can see why you adore it,” Ashley said. “It’s charming. It reminds me of Cape Cod.”
Jo bit back a grin. “Maybe that’s why they call that architecture the Cape Cod style.”
Ashley frowned at her. “You’re such a pain when you’re being smug.”
“If I’m so annoying, why didn’t you all go to a movie tonight, instead of coming over here?”
“I think we’ve established that it’s our duty to be here,” Maggie said. “Whether you want us here or not. Let’s play Scrabble. I’m feeling particularly brilliant tonight.”
“Give her a glass of wine,” Ashley ordered. “That ought to dull her brain. Nobody in this family is allowed to beat me at Scrabble.”
“Is that so?” Jo asked, exchanging a look with her sisters. It was evident they were as eager as she to rise to the challenge. “What do you say, ladies? Do we make her regret those words?”
“I’m in,” Melanie said at once.
“Oh, yes. I am so in,” Maggie agreed.
Jo laughed. “Then, Maggie, you get the wine and I’ll get the game. Just make sure you fill big sister’s glass to the very brim. I’ll have water, by the way.”
“Me, too,” Melanie said, winking at her.
Maggie nodded as she retrieved the glasses. “That’ll be two waters and a brimming glass of wine for the smart-alecky big sister.”
Ashley frowned at Maggie. “What about you? What are you drinking?”
Maggie plunked the wine bottle down at her own place at the table. “I’m going with the rest of the bottle.”
“Oh, no,” Melanie whispered, laughing. “That leaves me to drive them home and try to explain to Josh and Rick why they’re drunk as skunks.”
“I say we just pour them both into bed upstairs and let their husbands come and fetch them in the morning,” Jo said. “Then we can watch while these two try to explain what happened. It’ll be fun.”
To her surprise, it was Ashley who regarded her with evident approval. “You have a very diabolical mind, little sister.” She lifted her wineglass in a toast. “I salute you.”
“Which should tell you something,” Jo said.
“What?” Ashley asked, looking perplexed.
“That the rest of you can stop worrying about me. I’m not the nitwit you take me for. I can handle Pete Catlett and anything else that comes my way.”
Her sisters exchanged a look, then grinned at her.
“You’re our baby sister. We’ll never stop worrying,” Ashley said, patting her hand. “Get used to it.”
Jo sighed. Right there in a nutshell was the primary reason she shouldn’t even consider getting mixed up with Pete—or trying to buy that house that would keep her close to her overprotective sisters.
Somehow, though, as daunting as the prospect was, it wasn’t nearly enough to stop the yearning for either one.
Chapter Nine
Fearing the confrontation that was bound to happen the minute he laid eyes on his ex-wife, Pete approached the ranch-style brick home he’d bought for Kelsey and his son with more than his usual trepidation. Kelsey’s moods could be unpredictable at best. This morning, she might be humble and conciliatory, given the fact that she was clearly in the wrong, but more than likely she’d be defensive and spiteful.
This should have been such a tranquil place for Davey to grow up, Pete thought with another surge of anger. The house was in a quiet residential neighborhood with good schools nearby. It had cost more than he could afford at the time, but he’d wanted his son to have nothing but the best, and he’d been determined to be fair to Kelsey, too. Whatev
er else he thought of her, she would always be the mother of his son, and for that alone, he wanted to show her the respect she deserved.
Sometimes, though, she made it damn hard.
As he tried to settle his temper, he noticed that despite the money he sent her each month in alimony, none of it was apparently being spent on upkeep. The shutters needed painting and the garage door looked to be stuck halfway up.
He parked behind his ex-wife’s brand-new SUV—a car which told him exactly where her money was going—and crossed the lawn to the front door. Davey came charging out before he got there and launched himself straight at Pete with a wild whoop of excitement.
“Hey, buddy,” Pete said, laughing as he scooped the boy up and noted that his clothes were surprisingly neat for nine in the morning. Usually by now, Davey would have managed to make a mess of whatever he’d put on. “You look good.” He buried his nose in the kid’s stomach till Davey started giggling, then added, “Smell good, too.”
“Mom let me take my bath this morning instead of last night, so I’d look good when you got here. Can I go next door and play now? Mom says you guys have gotta talk or something. Grown-up stuff, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s grown-up stuff,” Pete agreed. “I can’t believe you want to play and spoil these nice, clean clothes.” He paused, leaned closer, then asked with an expression of mock horror. “What if you have to take another bath?”
Davey giggled. “I’ll be careful,” he promised.
Pete rolled his eyes at the likelihood of that. “A half hour, pal. Then you and I are going to look for supplies for whatever it is you want to make as a science project.”
“And we’re having lunch out, too, right?”
“Absolutely. Whatever you want.”
“Hamburgers and pizza,” Davey said at once.
“That might be overdoing it,” Pete said. “Think about it and pick one or the other. Now let me go in and say hello to your mom.”
Davey was about to bound off down the street to his friend’s house, but he suddenly turned and came back, his expression worried. “You and mom aren’t gonna yell, are you?”
Pete tugged his son’s baseball cap down over his eyes. “Nope.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” It was a promise he had every intention of keeping, unless Kelsey failed to listen to reason.
Apparently satisfied, Davey took off running toward the neighbor’s house. Pete watched till he went inside, then turned toward Kelsey’s. When he walked in, he could hear the noise of cartoons coming from the family room and concluded that Davey had left the set on as usual. He listened some more and finally heard the faint sounds of water running in the kitchen. He headed in that direction.
Kelsey was at the kitchen sink, her hands in soapy dishwater. She stiffened when she heard him enter.
“Hey,” Pete said, shrugging out of his jacket.
She turned slowly and he noted her unusually pale complexion and the worried expression on her face.
“I’m not going to jump down your throat again,” he assured her.
She relaxed some at that. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened,” she told him. “I honestly don’t know what I was thinking. You were right. I was wrong.”
He met her troubled gaze and reminded her, “You’ve said that before.”
“I know, but we’re living here in the land of families, and this place gets so damn lonely sometimes. I just wanted to go out with an adult for a change, instead of a carload of six-year-olds.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Pete agreed, “but Davey can’t be here by himself. Work out a deal with another mom to keep him, or find a reliable babysitter. I don’t care what you do, but I meant what I said, Kelsey. If I find out he’s here alone—and I don’t care if you’ve just gone to the store for milk—I will go to court. I don’t want to do that to him or to you, but I will. His safety is the priority here.”
She looked thoroughly rattled by his quietly spoken declaration, more disconcerted than she might have been if he’d been shouting. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
She sucked in a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, then,” she said. “I won’t do anything to make you resort to that.”
Pete prayed she’d keep that promise, but he knew from past history that the commitment could be just as fleeting as all her other promises. For now, though, he’d done all he could to warn her and to protect his son.
“So, how are you?” he asked. “Everything else okay?”
Her hands trembled slightly, but she nodded. “Great. What about you? Is everything good back home?”
“It’s been busy,” he told her. “I got several houses started and under roof this fall, so my crew’s been working on the interiors now that the weather’s a little rough out there.”
“Anybody ask about me?” she inquired.
She sounded so wistful, Pete wished he honestly could say yes, but the truth was that most people in the town who knew both of them had taken his side in the divorce. They asked about Davey regularly, but any mention of Kelsey was likely to draw scowls, if not disdainful comments. Fortunately, they all knew better than to react that way when his son was around. He saw no point in telling her that, though.
“Sure,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “You grew up there. Your name’s bound to come up. People want to know how you’re doing.”
“What do you tell them?”
“That you’re happy living in Richmond.” He studied her intently. “You are happy, aren’t you? This is what you wanted, after all.”
Her cheeks flushed a bit at the reminder and for an instant he thought she might tell him the truth, for once, but then her pride apparently kicked in and she forced an obviously phoney smile. “I love it. Even here in ‘Familyville,’ it’s better than that hick town any day.”
“That’s how I thought you felt,” he said. “Though if you were ever to change your mind and decide you want to come home, we could get you a place down there. You know what it would mean to me to have Davey close by.”
“Forget it,” she said fiercely, either out of pride or some stubborn determination to keep him separated from his son. “You couldn’t pay me enough to get me back there.”
“Whatever,” Pete said with a sigh. “Look, I’d better go next door and get Davey. Any particular time you want me to bring him back here?”
“Suit yourself,” she said with unmistakable bitterness. “You’re the one who insisted on coming today.”
Pete told himself not to rise to the bait. “Then I guess I’ll see you later. I’ll have him back around five. I might stick around for an hour or so to help him with this science thing he’s dreamed up.”
His announcement was greeted with silence as Kelsey turned her back on him and went back to washing dishes. He stared at her with regret, then walked away.
Just once, he thought as he left the house, he wished that they could attain a level of civility and maintain it throughout his visit. It never failed, though, that something would set her off and the contact would turn, if not into an argument, then at least into a cold war of sorts.
It struck him then that his ex-wife was simply one of those people who would never be truly happy. She’d gotten exactly what she wanted with the divorce, custody of their son and this house in Richmond, but she still wasn’t satisfied. It seemed likely she never would be, and that struck him as unbearably sad.
“So, can we, Dad?” Davey pleaded as Pete turned into the empty driveway at the house just before five o’clock.
Trying not to overreact to the obvious evidence that Kelsey had taken off, Pete forced his attention to his son. “Can we do what?”
“Weren’t you listening?” Davey asked, his exasperation plain.
“Obviously not as well as I should have been,” Pete told him, reaching over to muss up his hair. He’d lost his baseball cap somewhere along the way and his gloves. He probably would have left
his jacket behind, too, but Pete had seen that on the floor under their table at the hamburger joint where they’d had lunch a few hours earlier. Pete had grabbed it before they left.
“I was asking if we could play a video game before you go home,” Davey repeated.
“Sure, but what about that whole science thing you were so anxious to get into? We bought a whole bag full of stuff for that.”
“Next time,” Davey pleaded. “This game is so awesome. I want to show you.”
“Okay, pal, a video game it is. Now grab that stuff from the backseat and I’ll get the pizza.” He’d bought a large one for dinner, thinking they would be sharing it with Kelsey.
They hadn’t agreed to that, he reminded himself as he went inside. He couldn’t get all worked up over her not being here. She was bound to be back soon. She knew he was bringing Davey back at five, because he’d told her.
But by the time he and Davey had eaten and played the video game for over an hour, there was still no sign of Kelsey. He sent his son off to take a bath and get ready for bed, then dialed Kelsey’s cell phone number. She didn’t pick up.
When Davey finally came padding downstairs, his hair standing up in damp spikes, his feet bare and his pajamas inside out, Pete had to bite back a grin. At least the kid had tried.
“Where’s Mom?”
“I have no idea, buddy. She didn’t leave a note.”
Worry immediately creased his son’s brow. “You’re not going to go, are you?”
“No way. Come on. Let’s go upstairs and I’ll tuck you in. You can read me a bedtime story.”
Davey giggled. “You’re supposed to read it to me. I don’t know enough words yet.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Pete said. “I’d forgotten how it worked. You’re so smart I figured you’d know a bunch of words by now. Maybe you could show me the ones you do know.”
For the Love of Pete Page 11