Chapter Five
Friday morning, Rhiana screamed in frustration. The sound was loud enough that Rhiana's voice carried from her room down the hall to Carly's where she was desperately trying to decide what would be the appropriate outfit to wear at a Safety Awareness Program that would also be suitable for a date.
"Mom, I can't stay over at Dad's without my red pajama pants. Where'd you put them?"
"I didn't put them anywhere, Rhi."
A date. It had been more than a decade since Carly had dated. She'd been all full of suggestions when Samantha had had dating angst and when Michelle had gotten confused over her relationship with Daniel. But now, here she was getting ready for her own date, and she didn't have any suggestions for herself.
She finally gave up and dove into the stack of clothes she'd made on her bed, grabbing a pair of dressy jeans and a white turtleneck sweater. She wore sweaters on a daily basis in the winter, so it wasn't anything extraordinary. She didn't want Chuck to think she'd fussed over her clothes.
And she also didn't want him to think she hadn't given them a thought.
Jeans and a sweater conveyed both messages, she decided.
"Come on, Mom," Rhiana called again. "They went into the laundry on Monday. You still haven't done them?"
Carly stopped picking up the excess clothing on her bed and hung the items back up before storming to Rhiana's room.
As she'd expected, the floor was littered with a week's worth of dirty clothes, notebooks, wadded-up papers and probably half the dishes in the house. Carly scanned the mess and spied the pajama pants in the corner, one leg sticking out from behind the chair that Rhiana used as her version of a dirty clothes hamper.
Carly didn't say anything, just pointed.
Rhiana turned around and spotted the pajama leg. "Oh, great. They're dirty. Now I've got nothing to wear at Dad's this weekend."
"You have more than one pair of pajama pants."
"Yes, but you didn't wash any of them. The only things of mine on the table in the laundry room were two sweatshirts, a pair of jeans and a few pairs of socks." She dropped her voice. "I don't even have any clean underwear for next week. I guess you should do another load of laundry, huh?"
There were times Carly almost exploded with pride in her kids, but there were a growing number of times when pride was the exact opposite of what she was feeling.
This was one of those opposite-of-pride times.
She counted to ten before answering. "I guess you'd better go get a garbage bag, shove all your clothes in it and take it to your father's with you. His condo has a washer and dryer, right?"
"Mom, they stack one on top of the other. It would take me five or six loads to get all this washed. It would take a whole day."
She forced a smile. "Lucky for you, there's both Saturday and Sunday left to get it all done. Otherwise, next week might be difficult with no clean underwear."
"Mooommm."
"Rhiana, you officially just took on doing all your own laundry. I've shown you how the machine works, how to do it. Now, it's yours. You're responsible for getting done what needs done."
"But Mom . . . "
"Maybe after a few weeks of attending to your own laundry, you'll be a bit more considerate. I've had a crazy busy week. I got up at five in order to get things done around the house, including the laundry, so that I'd have everything ready for you two when you went to your dad's today after school."
"But you didn't do all my clothes," Rhiana whined.
"I told you that I'd be doing the laundry and assumed you'd brought me everything you wanted done." Thinking that settled that, Carly left Rhiana's room.
"But Mom," Rhiana repeated as she followed Carly into the hall, "you used to come in and pick my clothes up for me."
"And that was my mistake. I'm sorry for that. It's time you found out that things aren't the same."
"Right. You're always too busy to give me what I need now."
Part of Carly wanted to scream, what about what I need? Another part of her wanted to cringe. She'd worked so hard trying to keep it all together and to be sure the kids' needs were met. Having Rhiana say she hadn't managed hurt.
But she knew her daughter was also hurting, so rather than lashing out, Carly simply hugged her. "I am busy. But even if I wasn't working, I hope I'd have figured out that babying you wasn't doing you any favors. You have to learn to stand on your own two feet."
"Great mom you are. You break up our family, burn down the neighborhood and then abandon your kids. Nice going, Mom." Rhiana turned around, stomped to her room and slammed the door behind her.
Rhiana's words hit dead-on.
Nice going, Carly.
Maybe her fight with Rhiana set the mood for the day's Safety Awareness Program. It seemed none of the kids would meet her eye. She smiled, she handed out pamphlets, yet rather than talking with her and asking questions, they acted as if she was infected with some kind of mysterious plague.
It was the longest five hours of her life.
Afterward, Chuck had followed her home, where she'd dropped off her car, and got in his. Now, she was sitting in the car next to Chuck, feeling more and more uncomfortable and out of place.
She longed to turn to him and say, "take me home." She didn't know what to do, what to say. And feeling this out of place and awkward only added to her already sour mood.
"Carly, are you okay?"
"No," she admitted. "It's been a lousy sort of day. Rhiana and I had a fight, the kids at that school were not nearly as . . . "
"Friendly?" he finished for her. "Listen, it wasn't just you. They didn't have much to say to me either. When I tried to give them information on law enforcement, they gave me a look like being a cop was the last thing they'd ever do, and when I handed out safety info, a few actually scoffed. It was a tough crowd. That sometimes happens. It's over now though. Your day's looking up."
"No, it's not." She wished she could suck the words in again because she knew she sounded as petulant as Rhiana had.
'Hey, I think I resent that."
"Don't resent it. It's not you, it's me."
Chuck glanced at her and shook his head. "That phrase is the kiss of death. All men fear it."
She turned away from Chuck, not wanting to see his expression. It was easier to watch at the snow-covered houses out the window. "But it is me. I don't know what to do about anything," she admitted. "Rhiana is entering that difficult age for girls. My mom always said girls were easy until they hit their teens, and she hoped that in my twenties I'd like her again. It didn't take me nearly that long. I'm hoping the same's true for Rhiana. And it's not just the kids. This. I don't know how to date. Even something as casual as this is supposed to be."
There. She'd said the words. Admitted how very lame she was. She glanced away from the window and stole a peek at Chuck.
He didn't seem concerned by her revelation. He simply shrugged. "Take a deep breath, Carly. It's not really our first. It's our second if you count dinner at my parents."
"I don't. You invited me there as a front to keep your mother off your back. That's not a date. That's subterfuge."
He laughed. "Fair enough, then. So let me help you out, this is the point where I tell you that although I know I said it'd be coffee, since your kids are gone, I thought I'd bump it up a bit. We're going to Joe Roots for a late lunch, early dinner. Then, maybe a drive around the peninsula. I love it down there this time of year. It's not really warm enough to walk, but it's beautiful to look at the ice dunes. I know a place where we can park and see them. And on the drive, and afterward, we'll converse and get to know each other better. It's not hard."
"You already know more about me than you probably should. My divorce, the arson—"
"Accidental arson," he corrected, then glanced over at her with a huge grin on his face.
She laughed despite her nerves. "Yes. Accidental arson sounds so much nicer. But there's more. You've already seen me crying, embarrassed and more than a little snarky."
He shrugged again. "And I still asked you out. So relax. I've seen you at your worst moments, so what else can happen? Now, tell me about your day."
"Not much to tell. Well, other than the fact that I had a fight with my daughter this morning. She seems to be of the opinion that I've ruined her life. I'm not sure it's not true."
"How old is she?"
"Eleven, almost twelve. Almost a teen." At twelve, Sean was only one birthday away from being a teen. It seemed like yesterday they were both babies. They'd both loved and adored her. She could remember the feel of them, pressed against her as she rocked them. That baby scent. The magic of their smiles.
Rhiana wasn't smiling now.
"Most kids that age are convinced of that. It will get worse for a few years, but eventually they'll move away from home and come to understand how wonderful you were," Chuck assured her.
Carly recalled that's just what had happened when she went away to college. Suddenly her mother, who throughout her teens had felt like a warden, became her best friend. She wished she'd have known how short their time together would be. She'd have done more, called more.
She was pretty sure those sad thoughts hadn't been Chuck's intent, so she turned the tables. "Your turn. How was your day?"
"Same old, same old. Went into work early, met with the reporter from the paper, filled out a few forms, then came to the Safety Awareness Program. My job isn't very NYPD Blue. As you've pointed out, I do know a bit more about you than you know about me, so ask me something."
There was one question that had been begging to be asked. The old Carly—the don't rock the boat Carly—probably would have let it go, but the new Carly went ahead and asked, "Why do you only date short-term?"
Rather than look offended, Chuck glanced away from the road to her and smiled. "That's easy. Being a cop is tough. Swing shifts, working holidays. It's hard on us, although it's harder on families and significant others. I've seen a lot of guys end up divorced, and I don't want to go that route. If I ever married, I'd want what my parents have, and I don't see many cops with that kind of relationship, so I'll just forgo for something less. I always make sure the women I'm dating understand there's no forever for us. A few weeks of good companionship, and then we both go our own ways. No recriminations. No looking back. It's neater. Easier."
Carly thought through his explanation. It made sense. And on some level, she really could identify with what he was saying. Nothing in her wanted a serious relationship again. Yet. . .
She finally said, "Oh."
Chuck pulled to a stop at a light on 12th Street, and this time turned her way and didn't just glance. He really looked at her, as if he really saw her. That was something she wasn't sure Dean had ever done—really seen her.
"Carly, I know we're rather new acquaintances, but I recognize that your 'oh' means you don't agree. It's not like you to hold anything back."
"It's not for me to agree or disagree," she said primly.
A car behind them honked, and Chuck began driving. "Come on, you can tell me. Spit it out."
"Well," she replied slowly, weighing her words. "It seems to me that's a cop-out, pardon my pun."
"How so?"
"You worry about divorce, so you never allow a relationship to progress beyond the superficial? Sounds like you're scared, so you've set up a comfortable dating criteria that protects you."
Chuck was busy navigating the busy 12th Street traffic, which meant she was able to study him at will. And she could tell by his expression—the way his brow bunched up and he frowned—that he didn't like her analysis.
"Not that it's any of my business," she added quickly. "I'm scared, too, and I doubt I'll ever do more than superficial dating again."
His frown evaporated as he exclaimed, "Wow, we're two of the most upbeat people around."
"Hmm-mmm. Is this how most of your dates go?" she teased. "If so, I'm pretty sure that my plan to avoid too much of this kind of thing is a good one."
"No, Carly, I'd have to say everything about you—from the way that we met, to our first date—is unique."
And despite his smile, Carly wasn't the least bit sure that was a compliment.
SOMEHOW THEY MADE THEIR way through a late lunch at Joe Roots, but it was close. Chuck didn't think of himself as someone afraid of commitment, he thought of himself as a pragmatist. An upbeat pragmatic person.
After they'd eaten, they drove around Presque Isle. He found a perfect parking space beyond one of the far beaches where they could sit in the car, and see the ice dunes, which had been formed when the lake turned to ice and the waves and spray froze.
"I don't think I've ever come down here in the winter," Carly said. "But I wish I had. It's beautiful. It's as if a wave was coming in off the lake, and just froze."
She leaned forward to get a better look. "Can we go out?"
She'd only worn a coat to the program. No hat, no gloves, no scarf. Rather than point that out, he simply said, "It's only in the twenties."
"That's fine. I'm game if you are."
"Hang on a minute." He reached behind his seat and pulled out his work bag and dug around. "Here, put these on."
She took the hat and the thick gloves he handed her. "I don't need to—"
"Like you said, you don't come down here this time of year."
"But what about you?"
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his own hat and gloves. "I'm good. And I know you'd never let your kids out in this weather without a hat. Just wear them, okay? Please?"
For a moment, he thought she was going to argue. It seemed that Carly felt compelled to resist doing what she was told. Asking seemed to work better because she nodded.
"Yes, Mom," she teased. Dressed, she opened the door and stepped outside.
He followed and didn't mention his gloves looked absurdly large on her hands. Really absurdly large.
"We can't stay long. It'll be getting dark and the park closes soon."
"I just want to go out on the dunes for a minute."
He grabbed her arm before she could dart off toward them. "You can't walk on them. Ice dunes are notoriously fragile, and these are early this year, so they're probably even more so. We can take a short walk along the beach and look at them."
"Now I see why you're a cop. You're bossy."
He couldn't tell if she was teasing, but suspected she wasn't. "I just didn't want to have to jump in and rescue you."
"Don't worry, I've found being rescued doesn't sit well with me," she replied, then started walking far faster than someone as tiny as she was should be able to.
"Carly, wait up. I didn't mean—"
"I know. It's not you, it's me, remember? Let's forget my snit and enjoy the view."
He wasn't sure what had happened. Normally, he'd let it go, but he wanted to figure out Carly Lewis. "Carly?"
"My ex used to think I needed to be rescued, needed his guidance. And for a long time, I was okay with that. But when he left, I discovered the only one I could count on was myself. I don't want to rely on someone else, and I certainly don't want to be rescued by someone else."
"Even if you were drowning?" he joked.
She hesitated, then with a grin and a mock sigh said, "Okay, so if I'm drowning, you can help me. I'm talking literally drowning. Going under, can't breathe. But if I'm figuratively drowning, let me go. Let me figure it out on my own and I'll rescue myself."
He stood next to her and put an arm around her shoulder. "Deal."
They stood and just looked out at the frozen lake for a long time. "We probably should get going before one of the park rangers comes by to kick us out."
"Yeah. But thanks for bringing me here. You live somewhere your whole life and take things for granted. I usually come here in the summer, but never really stopped to think how beautiful it might be in the winter."
He still had his arm around her as they walked back to his car. He was pretty sure Carly hadn't really noticed, otherwise she'd shrug it off and assure him she didn't need anyone to hold her.
Bristles. That's what she wanted everyone to see. But he'd had a glimpse of a woman who found an ice dune beautiful and didn't want to take anything for granted. She had a hard shell with a gooey center.
And he was smart enough not to mention the insight to her.
They seemed to have turned a corner. The ride back across Erie to the east side of town was much more comfortable.
"Well, thanks," she said as he pulled into the drive. "I had a great evening."
"I'll see you to the door." He'd already opened his door, positive Carly wasn't going to sit and wait for him to come around to her side and get her door for her.
He was right.
Carly was out and on her way onto the porch before he caught up. She fumbled in her purse for her keys, then turned to him. For the first time since the ice dune, she looked nervous again. "Well, thanks so much, Chuck."
What now? He tried to jolly her out of whatever had set off this newest onslaught of nerves. "You don't have to sound so happy to have the evening end. Remember, my ego and all that."
"I'm pretty sure your ego can handle my relief that my official FDSD—"
"FDSD?" he asked.
"First date since divorce. Anyway, I think your ego can handle that I'm relieved it's over. It was another hurdle I had to overcome."
"A hurdle? You know, a guy could get real conceited with all the compliments you bandy around." There was an edge to his comment, he heard it and wondered if Carly noticed. She didn't give any indication. Didn't seem contrite or embarrassed.
Bristles, he reminded himself. He just needed to get underneath the bristles. "And if we counted that meal at my mom's, it's a second date. And they both went really well."
"Your mom's did not go well. You set me up to attack your poor, defenseless, mourning brother-in-law."
"Time out." He made the motion from basketball. Hand over fingertips. "We're not going to discuss Andy."
"No, we're not. It's way too cold to discuss anything out here. I'll talk to you again next week at the Safety Awareness Program."
She put the key in the lock and twisted it, then withdrew it and opened the door. "Again, thanks."
"Wait. I know it's been a while since you dated, but you're forgetting the most important part." And before she started analyzing and debating it, he leaned down and kissed her.
He expected a short, goodnight buss on the lips.
It couldn't be much after six, so all he expected was a good-afternoon kiss. That's all he'd intended. Quickly, the kiss escalated from peck to passion.
At first, he suspected Carly wrapped her arms around his neck as a way of steadying herself, as she stood on tiptoe to allow the kiss to deepen.
Moment by moment, they tasted and explored each other.
Then Carly stepped backward through the open door without breaking contact, and Chuck willingly followed, kicking the door closed behind them.
And still they kissed.
She dropped her purse to the floor with a thud, and Chuck reached behind him to lock the deadbolt.
Carly started to kick off her boots and started wiggling out of her coat, then broke their kiss long enough to say, "You, too."
Part of him—the part that liked to think of himself as a nice guy—thought he should call a halt. As Carly kept pointing out, it had been a long time since she'd dated.
The other part of himself won out and he obliged her, slipping off his leather jacket and tossing it on the floor.
"My room?" she asked.
That stopped him and the nice-guy-part kicked into overdrive. "Carly, are you sure?"
"No, and I don't want to think about it. I don't want to discuss it. I want you. Now. Naked."
That was clear. At her words a mental image of both of them naked flashed through Chuck's mind and all he wanted to do was forget any nice-guy worries. Still, he found himself saying, "I don't want you to wake up regretting—"
"You're afraid of commitment, remember? That makes you perfect. You're used to having unemotional sex. No strings to get tangled up in. I want you," she repeated.
He knew he should walk away because he knew that Carly Lewis was not a sex-on-the-first-date sort of woman.
She wasn't a casual-sex kind of woman.
She was the type of woman you took home to meet your mother.
Yet he wanted her despite his reservations.
She took his hand. "Don't make me beg, Chuck."
"Carly, I'm trying to be a nice guy."
"I don't want a nice guy tonight . . . I want you." She laughed at her own joke, then tugged him toward the stairs. "One night, Chuck. No commitment. No ever-afters. Just you and me."
"Carly—"
She dropped his hand. "Unless you don't want me." The openness, the teasing evaporated, and in their place, Carly's wariness returned. Maybe it was more than that. Maybe it was resignation. As if being rejected was what she expected.
That look on her face tore at him. Needing to dispel that concern immediately, Chuck swept her into his arms—she weighed next to nothing—and carried her up the stairs. "Do I want you? I'm about to explode with wanting you."
"Oh, man, I feel like Scarlett O'Hara."
"Frankly, my dear . . . " He kissed her again as he topped the stairs. "Which way?"
"Straight."
He carried her into the bedroom. He wasn't sure what he'd expected. Something serviceable, utilitarian. But what he found was greens, bright yellows and pinks. Lace and flowers.
A room that looked completely and decidedly feminine.
"You can set me down now, Chuck."
"This room isn't what I expected."
Carly sighed. "What is it about me that makes everyone so surprised that I like girly, lacy things, or that I enjoy doing crafts? See that afghan on the bottom of the bed?"
There was a white afghan with yellow and pink flowers accented by green leaves that sort of stuck up all over it. "Yeah."
"I made that. And the throw pillows, and the curtains. I enjoy that kind of stuff." Carly's bristles were back in place.
Chuck immediately tried to undo whatever his unthinking comment had done. "I didn't mean to insult you."
"You didn't. I'm used to it. I didn't mean to throw a damper on things by getting defensive."
"Carly, I don't think you could throw a damper on anything." So, saying, he leaned down and kissed her again. "I want—"
The doorbell rang, and even from all the way up in the bedroom, they could hear loud, hurried thumps against the door as well, as the bell convulsively kept ringing. "Can we ignore it?"
"Probably not." She kissed him firmly, then straightened her clothes. "Hopefully, I'll only be a minute." She hurried from the room.
Chuck stood in the middle of the uber-feminine bedroom. He thought he had Carly Lewis pegged as an impulsive, passionate woman. And he was sure he was right. Although here in this room, remembering her handmade card for Anderson, he had a growing sense that there was more to her. Much more.
CARLY PICKED UP HER coat and Chuck's and put them on hooks before she opened the door to find Dean and her kids. "Uh, I thought you were keeping the kids this weekend?"
"I was. But I have an important last-minute meeting out-of-town."
Rhiana scowled as Dean offered up his excuse. "Ha. Don't listen to him, Mom. His meeting is with her."
Carly didn't have to ask who her was. "Gayle?"
Rhiana nodded. "She gave him a surprise weekend at some dumb grown-up love nest, and he'd rather be with her than us and take us to Cleveland for Grandma's birthday. That's fine, 'cause we don't want to be with him either."
"That's enough, Rhi." Carly looked at Sean who hadn't said anything. "You okay?"
He nodded.
Carly thought about sending them to their rooms, but she knew that Chuck was still upstairs. "Fine. Both of you head into the living room. I'll be right in."
She turned to her ex. His expression while Rhiana ranted gave her all the information she needed. "Really, Dean? You're blowing off your mom's birthday?"
"She didn't even know we were coming, so she won't miss us. I sent her flowers."
Carly wished she was surprised, but she wasn't. She'd always felt bad that Dean treated his mother so casually. Not that Darlene Lewis had liked Carly, she'd never known why. But still, she felt bad. She'd have to be sure the kids called tomorrow. Speaking of calling. . .
"You should have called, Dean. What if I had plans and wasn't here?"
He snorted. "Come on Carly . . . " His sentence trailed off as he looked at some point behind her.
Carly turned and saw Chuck coming down the stairs.
"Thanks for letting me use the bathroom." Chuck walked up next to Carly then put his left arm around her and extended his right hand to Dean. "Hi, I'm Chuck, and you must be Dean."
Dean didn't take Chuck's extended hand. Instead he turned to Carly. "Who's he?"
"A friend—not that it's any of your business."
"Oh, come on, honey." The endearment rolled off Chuck's tongue as if he'd used it a thousand times. "Good old Dean here is ditching his weekend with the kids in order to go have a tryst with his girlfriend. I'm sure he can handle the idea of your being in a new relationship."
Dean's eyes narrowed as he studied Chuck. His frown said he didn't like what he saw. "How long has this been going on?"
Carly shot a warning look at Chuck, who seemed totally unrepentant, then turned to Dean. "I met Chuck the day I burned the couch. Maybe it was fate. I'd put my past and my bitterness to rest and there he was. Perfect timing."
"I was the first cop on the scene. I'm sure you don't remember. I mean, I saw you there, slinking to the fringes of the crowd, looking embarrassed to be there, but not quite sure you could leave."
"You're a cop?"
"Yes. And both Carly and I would appreciate it if you gave her a little more warning if you're not going to live up to your visitation agreement. We'd been out. If you'd come any earlier, no one would have been home."
"Oh, sure. I'll do that. I'd better be going now." Dean took a few steps toward the living room. " 'Bye kids. See you next week." He stepped out onto the porch. "Thanks, Carly."
"Don't thank me, Dean. I can't believe you're going to squander your weekend with the kids, that you're going to pick your girlfriend over your own mother. But then, you never did really appreciate the idea of family." She shut the door on him and turned to Chuck. "Thanks. You shocked him, honey."
"I know you were married to him, but pardon me if I say that man's an ass."
"I couldn't agree more." She felt a bit lighter, knowing that Chuck was on her side. Almost immediately, though, her heart broke as she thought about the kids. It was one thing for Dean to hurt her and quite another for him to cause the kids pain. "Listen, I'd better get in there and see about soothing them."
"I'll leave you to it. Can I see you again this week?" he asked as he put on his coat.
She nodded. "Let's talk the logistics at the next program presentation."
"Great. See you Tuesday." He glanced around and leaned down and kissed her.
It was a short kiss, but it left Carly feeling all weak-in-the-knees and girlishly breathless again. It made her want to forget every scruple, every reservation, and be with this man.
"I'm sorry we were interrupted," she whispered.
"Me, too. Next time the coast is clear and you want to throw caution to the winds, I hope you call me." He paused, then added, "I really hope you call me."
He paused again. "Soon. Very, very soon."
Carly laughed. There was something about Chuck. He made her laugh. He made her feel. . .
That was it. He made her feel. But right now, she had her kids to think about. "When the coast is clear, I'll make that call."
He leaned down and gave her another quick buss. "I'll hold you to that."
He left. Carly peeked out the window and watched while he got in his car, then took a second to collect herself before she went into the kids. "So, what are we going to do tonight?"
"Who was that who just left?" Rhiana asked.
"A friend. He's in charge of the Safety Awareness Program. We talked about how my first two sessions went and how to improve next week's—"
"That's not all it was, though, right? Not just a business meeting?" Rhiana pressed.
"No." Carly wasn't sure how to answer. She didn't want to give the impression that Chuck was someone who would impact the kids' lives, because he wouldn't. She was going to do her best to see their paths didn't cross again. "We went out to a late lunch first. It's so busy at the schools that there's no time to eat. And seriously, even if there was, I don't do cafeteria food."
"Not me," Sean said. "I love it. Mystery-meat Mondays. Tuna-surprise Tuesdays . . . "
Rhiana wasn't going to get sidetracked at the thought of cafeteria food. She'd zoned in on Chuck and wouldn't be put off course. "Great. First Dad chooses his girlfriend over us, and now you're going to have a new guy, too."
"First, Chuck's not exactly my new guy. He's not the kind of guy I'd even remotely consider. And secondly, I would never, never ever pick someone else over you two. I may date in the future, but you guys are my priority. Always."
"Sure," Rhiana said.
Sean had been willing to discuss cafeteria food, but was totally silent about Chuck, which seemed worse to Carly. At least Rhiana was venting. Sean was holding in everything that mattered to him. Mystery meat was so much easier for him to talk about than the fact his parents had divorced. That worried Carly.
"Listen, I know things have changed for you two. Your dad and I split, I went back to school and got a job. And change is hard. It's hard for me, too. If I could build a perfect world for you, I would. But if I did, it would be a lie. Life isn't perfect, it's messy. Things happen. Good things. Crap things. You have to take whatever happens and make it work. That's all you can do."
"Yeah, you and Dad breaking up was crap." Sean glanced at her to see if she was going to yell about him using a normally forbidden word.
"You can say that again," Carly told him.
"Crap, crap, crap . . . " he chanted.
"Gee, Mom, way to go." Rhiana sounded exasperated, but a small smile played at the edge of her lips. "He's never going to stop saying it now."
"Crap, crap . . . "
"It's a limited time suspension of the rules," Carly clarified for Rhiana.
Sean stopped. "How limited?"
Carly glanced at her watch. "Two more minutes."
"Crap, crap . . . " he started chanting as quickly as possible.
What the heck, Carly thought, and still watching her watch, joined in, "Crap, crap, crap . . . "
Rhiana gave them both a you're-crazy look, but eventually, she gave in to temptation. "Crap, crap, crap . . . "
"Time's up," Carly announced when the two minutes had passed. "And just to be clear, that's it for that word, Sean."
"Next time Dad does something stupid can we have another crappy minute or two?"
Maybe a good mother, a proper mother, would never have started crappy minutes, but it had allowed Sean to vent. It had given all three of them a much-needed release.
"Yes. But I'm the Queen of Crappy Minutes, and I will decide when they're invoked."
"But we can request them?" Sean pressed.
"Come on, Sean, you're in seventh grade, not third," Rhiana complained.
"And I'm older than both of you, Rhi," Carly said. "And I can tell you, seventh grade or early thirties, everyone needs crappy minutes. And yes, Sean, you can request them."
"Okay."
For an instant, Carly thought he might hug her, but while Sean might not be too cool for crappy minutes, he was too cool to hug a mom. Good thing for him that Carly wasn't above hugging him. She leaned over and pulled both kids into her embrace. "I love you both. More than anything."
"Oh, gross. Mom germs. Ugh," Sean screamed.
"Maybe I'll get a camera and take pics of us all hugging. I could open a Facebook page."
"Oh, gee, Mom," Rhiana cried in horror. "You wouldn't?"
"Then I could 'friend' every kid from Erie Elementary and show off my pictures."
"Mom," they both cried in horror.
"Geesh, no sense of humor," she teased as she let them go.
Suddenly serious again, Rhiana asked, "Hey, what about poor Grandma?"
"Dad's such a dork," Sean muttered.
"We don't use that kind of language," Carly reminded him. "Well, not without express permission, and never about your father. Whatever he is, whatever he does, he's still your father. Nothing's going to change that. As for your grandmother, I was going to say we'd call tomorrow, but it's not even seven. Why don't you call tonight? That way you two can be the first to wish her a happy birthday."
"If Dad's not going to Cleveland, she's going to be all alone."
Carly shouldn't feel bad. They'd never been very close. Yet, she did sympathize.
No one should be all alone on their birthday. She mentally calculated everything she had to do over the weekend, and knew there weren't enough hours to get it all done no matter what, so what would blowing a few more hours matter? "Okay, here's what we'll do. If the weather's not bad, why don't you see if she wants to meet us in Mentor for lunch?"
Mentor, Ohio, was about halfway between Cleveland and Erie. Just a bit over an hour away.
"Really, Mom?" Rhiana asked.
"Sure. Why don't you call her and see if she wants to?"
Sean ran over to her and hugged her, all of his own volition. Rhiana followed suit. "Thanks," they chimed in unison and then sprinted away to find portable phones so they could both talk at once.
Carly could take her books and study while the kids spent time with their grandmother. Somehow she'd make it all work.
And what about Chuck?
Given what her days looked like, how was she ever going to find a moment for him . . . a moment she very much wanted to find?