“Like he doesn’t know what to say. No, Doughboy!” Tad grabbed the stocky dog around the chest—sort of—and gave him an ineffectual shove away from the hole. “Leave it alone!”
Jowls quivering, the dog trudged right back of course, but he seemed more respectful this time, plopping down with his head between his chunky paws. Undoubtedly biding his time until he could dig the corpse up again, thereby putting certain ecological issues to rest. The hole filled, Tad leaned back on his knees and rubbed his nose, smearing dirt across his face. “You think Harvey’s in heaven?”
Jewel squatted beside him. “I don’t see why not. In fact, I bet he’s swimming around in this big, beautiful, sunny pond in God’s garden—”
“Does he have wings?”
“Oh. I’m no expert, sugarpie, but I’m guessing not—”
“Do you think Mama’s in heaven? Watching me and Ollie?”
Jewel stared at the back of Tad’s head as he leaned forward again to smooth the dirt over the tiny grave. Silly her, thinking the hardest thing about the job would be whether to make peanut butter or tuna sandwiches for lunch. She touched his hair. “You know, maybe that’s something you should ask your daddy.”
“I did. Lotsa times.” Tad scooped up a trowel full of extra dirt, letting it dribble onto the ground. “He always finds something else to talk about.”
Jewel remembered how she’d pestered her mother half to death about her father when she was about Tad’s age, finally able to ask questions at four she hadn’t been able to at two. She supposed that’s what was happening with Tad, only now ready to deal with his mama’s death. However, it was up to Tad’s daddy to dole out answers. Not her.
Except before she could ask if he’d like her to say something to Silas, cutie patootie jumped up, swiping his filthy hands across his butt, then his nose. “I’m hungry. Can you make more cookies? Then can we give the dog a bath after lunch? ’Cuz he stinks.” He put his grubby hand in hers and led her back toward the house, wriggling and skipping and jumping to the point where he practically yanked her arm out of the socket. “An’ then c’n we play Secret City again? That was so fun!”
“Yes to the cookies—although we’ll probably have to go to the store first, I doubt there’s anything to make ’em with—no to the dog and we’ll see about Secret City. Your daddy got kinda…upset when we played it before.”
“But he won’t find out if we get it all cleaned up before he gets home. Right?”
Then the kid grinned, and she was lost. Laughing, she grabbed him around the waist to tickle him, reveling in his squealing laughter and figuring what old stick-in-the-mud Silas didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
“Look sharp!”
Silas barely looked up in time to catch the wrapped burrito his brother Eli tossed across the desk, the cardboard box in his other hand holding three drinks large enough to give everybody’s kidneys a good workout the rest of the day. The drinks set on the desk, Eli plucked off his ball cap, raked a banged-up hand through his too-long brown hair and grabbed his own burrito from the box.
“We may as well get started. Noah’ll be along in a minute, he’s over patching up my old roof.”
“And Dad?”
“Gone home to see how Mama’s getting on,” Eli said, his butt not even making contact with one of the two chairs on the other side of the desk before he’d chomped off a quarter of the burrito. Blue, their father’s old heeler, wriggled and whined in anticipation of whatever handouts he might get, getting his snout shoved out of Eli’s lap for his efforts. “You know how he worries.”
A trait Silas had apparently inherited, he thought as he rose from his own chair, tugging his jacket off the back.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Eli mumbled around a full mouth.
“Home. It’s Tad’s and Jewel’s first day together. I should see how things are going—”
“Did anybody call and say there was a problem?” Eli said, licking his greasy fingers. Evangelista’s burritos were not for the fainthearted.
“No, but—”
“Then sit your rear back down, you ain’t going nowhere.”
Silas glared at his younger brother. “You got a problem with me at least calling to see how they’re doing?”
“No. But Jewel might. Sit.”
“Since when do you get to order me around?”
“Since you started acting like a pea-brain about your kids.”
“And you being a stepdad for five minutes doesn’t make you an instant authority on fatherhood.”
Eli gave Silas a hard look for a moment before swallowing. “No. It doesn’t. And it’s not like I don’t understand where you’re coming from, that there’s always this shadow in the back of your brain that something might happen.
Before Tess told me she was pregnant I had no idea you could feel so excited and so terrified at the same time. But seems like you’ve gotten even more skittish about the boys over the last little while than you were right after the accident. You keep that up,” he said, taking another bite of his lunch, “and you’re gonna push yourself over the edge. Not to mention everybody else.”
They glared at each other for a moment before, on a heavy sigh, Silas dropped back into the chair and unwrapped the burrito he didn’t feel much like eating. “Sorry. It’s just…” The pungent tang of carne adovada made his mouth water anyway. “The bigger they get the more they remind me of you and Noah. Then I remember some of the pranks the two of you pulled on me and my blood goes cold.”
Eli snorted. “You do realize most of those were in retaliation for the crap you pulled on us, right?”
“Uh, sorry, but I wasn’t even around that time you goons jumped onto the trampoline from the roof.”
“Oh, come on, we were fine. Noah didn’t even have a concussion.”
Silas almost laughed, then sighed. “It was like we were on a mission to make our folks’ lives a living hell.”
“And yet, they still love us. Just like we’ll still love our kids. You’re thinking too hard, Si. Give it a rest—”
“He at it again?” Noah said as came in and swiped a burrito and drink from the box. Sensing new opportunities, Blue immediately switched loyalties.
“Had to stop him from going to check on Jewel and Tad.”
“Bro,” Noah said, and Silas jabbed a finger in his direction.
“You do not get a say in this, Mr. Everybody-else-is-having-kids-so-I-don’t-gotta.”
After loudly crumpling the burrito wrapping and lobbing it into the wastebasket, Noah sprawled on the old futon against the far wall. Scowling, he kneed the dog out of his way, only to immediately hand him a piece of steak from his burrito. “And if Mom’s laying a guilt trip on me doesn’t work, for damn sure you don’t have a shot.” He stuffed another chunk of meat into his mouth. “Fatherhood’s not in the cards for me. Deal.”
“I’m not arguing with your choice, bonehead. I’m arguing with your right to horn in on how I’m doing my job.”
Clearly unperturbed, Noah shrugged, then waved the half eaten burrito in their brother’s direction. “You probably won’t like what I’ve got to say, either.”
Eli’s brows dipped. “Oh?”
“Yeah. That roof is a lot worse than I first thought. All that snow we got last winter leaked right through the barrier paper, did a real number on the wood underneath.”
“Hell.” Eli’s brows dipped. “You sure?”
“Kinda got my first clue when my foot went through this morning. We could patch it, but if you’re planning on selling?” He took another bite, shaking his head. “It’d never pass inspection like that. Whole thing needs to be replaced, if you want my opinion. And before winter sets in, or it’s only gonna get a lot worse. The good news is, I’ll do it for cost.”
“Jerk,” Eli said, tossing his crushed, supposedly empty soda cup at his brother. Laughing, Noah caught it and threw it back, making the dog bark.
Wiping soda drops off his arms, Silas frowned “Wh
at about Jewel? Can she stay there while you’re working?”
Noah pulled a face. “I sure wouldn’t want to, if I were her.”
“How long are we talking?”
“Depending on how bad it is, if the weather cooperates…a week? Maybe two? Maybe she could stay up at the house? I’m sure the folks wouldn’t mind.”
“No room,” Eli said, crossing his arms. “Aunt Marie’s there helping out, remember? And Dad moved his car collection into our old room. What about your spare room, Si?”
Silas’s eyes jerked to his brother’s. “You’re not serious?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, if she can’t find someplace else, why not?”
“It’s only for a week,” Noah put in. “Two at the most. Probably not even. And anyway, only as a last resort, right?”
Except, when Silas didn’t respond fast enough, he caught the brothers’ shared glance, followed by the sly, no-good grin creeping across Noah’s face.
“Bunny rabbit got you scared?” Noah said, and Eli chuckled, and Silas briefly recalled—with a small thrill of satisfaction—the time he’d put garden snakes in their beds and made them both scream like girls.
Ah, those were the days.
“No,” Silas said, grabbing Blue’s collar to jerk him out of the trash before he got Noah’s wrapper. “And don’t you two have work to do?”
“Sure thing—”
“Yeah, guess we’re done here.”
Then they left, still chuckling, making Silas wonder, once again, why, why his parents hadn’t stopped at one.
“You’re right, sweetie, that sucks,” Jewel said to her cell phone, propped on the counter, as she turned down the heat under the pot of rice on the stove. True, Silas hadn’t asked her to make dinner, but it wasn’t like tossing the pork and fixings into the crock pot earlier had been any big deal.
“Seriously,” her stepbrother rumbled. Holy moly, who turned up the bass? “It’s like every time I turn around Dad’s got somebody new. Why can’t it ever be just the two of us?”
An outburst of laughter from the boys’ room, where in all likelihood they were plotting world domination, sent Jewel closer so she could hear better. She’d already learned not to leave them alone for longer than five minutes or there would be hell to pay. By the middle of the afternoon Tad had already managed to wipe out half her brain cells; his brother handily took care of the rest within fifteen minutes of his return from school.
“Jewel? You listening to me?”
“Sorry—” she pulled her head back into the kitchen “—I’m a little distracted—”
“And this last one’s a real bitch!”
“Aaron!”
“No lie, she really is. I heard her saying it was too bad my real mom wasn’t still alive so Dad could send me back to her.”
Jewel’s heart cracked in two. For all her mother’s faults, Kathryn would’ve kicked to the curb any man who’d tried to make her choose between him and Jewel. Mama might not be exactly the strongest nail in the bin, but she was nothing if not loyal.
“Oh, honey…I’m so sorry. But look on the bright side—this one probably won’t last, either.”
A sigh came through the phone. “Yeah. I know.” He paused. “I sure wish I could come live with you—”
“And we’ve been all through this, sweetie. I love you to bits, you know that, but I’m not in any position to take care of a fifteen-year-old boy—”
“But you wouldn’t have to take care of me! You wouldn’t! I even get myself ready for school, pack my own lunch and everything! Please?”
“Honey…no. First off, I doubt your dad would be on board with that. And second, I simply can’t be responsible for you. And I would be, whether you think so or not. Besides, are you sure maybe you didn’t misinterpret what that woman said—?”
“You’re not here, Jewel, you don’t see…” She could hear him fight tears; her own eyes stung in response. “It’s like Dad doesn’t know what to do with me or something. Like I’m gum on his shoe he can’t get off.”
Oh, Lord—the child was gonna burn her heart right out of her body, and that was the truth. “Tell you what,” she said as she heard the front door open, Silas’s keys clatter into the metal dish on the hall table. “Maybe you can come visit for Thanksgiving. You, me, a twenty-pound turkey and football until your eyes fall out. How’s that sound?”
“And your mom, right?”
“I suppose. Who knows? But…you’d be okay with that?”
“Sure. I mean, yeah, Kathryn’s a little weird, but at least she was always nice to me. When she was around, anyway.” He paused. “You really mean it? About me coming for Thanksgiving?”
“Of course I do! If it’s okay with Keith, why not?” She signaled to the frowning Silas she’d only be a sec. She also told herself he only looked that good on account of her spending the entire day with people who barely came up to her hip, but she knew that was a bold-faced lie. “I gotta go now, but we’ll talk again later, okay? Love you, kiddo. My stepbrother,” she said to The Scowl when she disconnected the call. “I’m gathering my ex-stepfather is being a butt.”
Catching sight of the plate of oatmeal cookies, Silas slid onto a barstool in front of them. “Sorry to hear it,” he said, shoving a cookie into his mouth and making a big old mess all over the counter.
Jewel shrugged, then pulled two glasses and a pair of plastic tumblers from the cupboard, briefly contemplating whether to bring up Tad’s needing to talk about his mom before deciding, no, it wasn’t her place. Not yet, at least. Instead she said, “You know that mulberry out back? Those low branches are perfect for a tree house. And the kids would love it, right?”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Silas said, like he was only half listening. Jewel turned to see him sweeping cookie crumbs into his palm, obviously avoiding eye contact.
“Silas? Is something wrong?”
The crumbs deposited into a napkin, he rubbed his fingers together, then finally met her gaze. “Noah says the roof on Eli’s house is worse than he thought. A lot worse. In fact, it needs to be completely replaced before there’s any more damage to the structure underneath.”
“O…kay…?”’
“Which means you’ll need to find someplace else to live in the interim.”
Her stomach dropped. “‘Interim’ meaning…?”
“Maybe…two weeks?”
“Oh.”
Dazed, Jewel wandered out into the living room where her knees went kaflooey, sending her crashing onto the edge of the sofa. Doughboy, sensing unhappiness afoot, waddled over to nudge her thigh, offering slobbery condolences.
“It’s really that bad?” she said.
“Worse. Noah said one good rainstorm and the whole east side of the roof could turn into a skylight.”
Jewel doubled over, palming her face. “Where on earth am I supposed to go for two weeks?”
“You don’t have friends or somebody you can stay with?”
Her face still buried in her hands, Jewel shook her head. And realized she was an inch away from acting like her mother. Hell. “I’ll figure something out,” she said, putting on her Brave Face as she stood, wiped her hands on her jeans and returned to the kitchen to check on the pork roast, which was dumb because the whole point of a slow cooker was not having to check on it—
“Um…”
She glanced up to see Silas doing that palming-the-back-of-his-head thing men did when they were dreading what came next. “If worse comes to worst, there’s the sofa bed in the office.”
“What office?”
“My office. Down the hall.”
Clutching the cooker lid, she gawked at Silas. “You’re asking me to stay here?”
“Only as an absolutely last resort.”
She replaced the lid, muttering, “Your hospitality is overwhelming.”
“You couldn’t possibly want to bunk with me. Uh, us.”
“After such a heartwarming invitation?” Jewel said, gathering placemats and flatware
, then whooshing past Silas to set the table. “No. But like you said—” she smacked down the placemats, clunked the silverware on top “—I may not have a choice. And beggars can’t be choosers and all that fun stuff.”
“You’re overreacting.”
“You might not want to say that to a woman with a knife in her hand.”
“It’s a bread knife, I’ll take my chances. And you just made my point—hey!”
Man was nimble, she had to give him that. Not that she’d actually aimed the knife at him, it bounced off the floor a good foot from his shoe, but still close enough to make him jump. And, she was guessing by the dipped brows behind the glasses, seriously reconsider his offer. Pushing out a breath, she stomped over to snatch the knife off the floor and wash it, annoyed as all hell to feel tears coming on.
But, dammit, she was getting so tired of being in limbo, of not having her own home, her own life, of feeling torn in two between being there for assorted family members and desperately wanting, needing, to figure out who Jewel was—
“Jewel? The knife only fell on the floor, not into a pig sty. I think it’s probably clean enough. And whatever’s in the cooker smells fantastic, by the way.”
She shoved down the faucet handle. Turned. Felt her renegade heart do a slow flip-flop at the contrite expression on Silas’s face. Maybe his chivalry was a tad rusty, but this was a good man, as stalwart as they came. No, he clearly didn’t want her there, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, swiping the knife through the dishtowel, then shoving her glasses back up her nose with the back of her hand. “You’re right, I did overreact.” One shoulder bumped. “But it’s been one of those d-days—”
Oh, crud. There went her chin, going all wobbly on her. Jewel turned back to the sink, but it wasn’t like she could hide wiping the tears. At least she wasn’t all snotty or anything, but still.
“No, I’m sorry,” Silas said softly. Gently. “I should’ve…” He sighed. “Ever since the boys’ mother died—no, before that, when my marriage fell apart—I’ve had this problem with wanting to keep everything under control. Which is stupid because the more you try to make things go your way, the less inclined they are to do that.”
Adding Up to Marriage Page 6