CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Claudia~
The meal was nothing fancy. The opposite, in fact. She always cooked the week’s meals during the previous weekend and froze them. That way she could spend her time with her son instead of scrambling dinner together with her attention divided.
But Fridays she served Jimmy’s favorite. Macaroni and cheese. She did add grated cheddar to the finished product, and she had made a salad to go with it. But there was no denying it was a humble meal. Boring even. Ryan ate it as if he were starving.
“This is good,” he said. “I’m very tired of my own company.”
He had to be dreadfully lonely if mac and cheese from a box with a messy kid was an improvement on his own table. If he was being sincere. Hadn’t he said he wasn’t a liar? Just twenty kinds of a bastard. Her stomach clenched but she smiled insincerely back at him.
“Thank you for saying so,” she said.
Jimmy put his spoon down. “Can I have seconds?” he demanded.
Ryan flashed her a look. An eat-your-dinner-I’ve-got-this look. “Did you enjoy your dinner, son?” he asked gently.
“Yes. It’s my favorite!”
“I’m glad. Always tell your mom that you liked the food she cooked for you, before you ask for more.”
“Is that a rule?”
“It is.” Ryan’s deep voice was grave.
“Mom never asked me to do that,” Jimmy said slyly.
“Still the rule.”
Jimmy thought. He turned to her. “Mommy, it was extra good tonight. Can I have more?” He thought. “Please?”
“When you’ve finished your salad.”
“I’m not hungry for salad. I’m hungry for ‘roni.” He looked between them under his lashes.
Ryan’s face was an implacable blank, but somehow she knew he was dying to smile. “You heard your mom,” he repeated. It seemed to be his mantra.
“Aww.” But Jimmy finished his portion of lettuce and cucumber. He did not care for tomatoes and she always left them out of his serving.
Ryan returned his gaze to her. He winked. It felt like they were a team.
“Would you like seconds?” she asked him. She had made two boxes just in case.
“No, thank you. I understand you have a part-time job at the First and Last.” It was a question.
Her boss Morley (Nosy) Parker was the third Parker to head up the First Bank of Mystic Bay, known to everyone on the island as the First and Last Bank of Mystic Bay. But little pitchers had big ears and she was grateful to have employment.
“Mr. Parker was kind enough to take me on as a teller.” But not kind enough to give her a full-time job and the benefits that went with it. On the other hand, she got off work in time to pick Jimmy up at three thirty, which was a bonus.
“I thought you trained as an accountant.”
“I did. But there are no jobs on the island for an accountant, and my online business is just a twinkle in my eye.”
Ryan leaned forward. “It’s up to you, of course, but if you want to quit working at the First and concentrate on the boy and your business, you’ll be able to.”
Jimmy spoke with green teeth. Ryan was going to be less charmed by his stepson in a couple of seconds. But he laid a big hand on the little one waving the fork. Pinned it to the table. “We don’t speak with our mouths full of food.”
Jimmy closed his mouth and swallowed.
“Have a drink of milk, and tell us if you are still hungry,” Ryan said quietly.
Jimmy complied. He had a big white mustache when he finished his milk. “I’m still hungry,” he announced. “For ‘roni.”
Ryan rose. “I’ll get it. You rest, Claudia. You did all the work.”
He was doing it deliberately. Acting like a father. Acting like a husband. Showing her how pleasant it would be for Jimmy to have two parents. And, damn him, it was working. They felt like a family.
Jimmy wolfed down his second serving in a way that made her worry that he was going to have yet another growth spurt. She glanced at Ryan and relaxed. He could pay for all new clothes and shoes without feeling the pinch.
“There are berries for dessert,” she said.
“Are they in the fridge?” Ryan asked. He got up. He was limping and awkward but he cleared the table anyway.
“In a bowl. Yogurt is draining in the sieve.”
“Sit. Please. I can dish up a few berries. Jimmy, do you want a few or a lot?”
“I want three.” He held up three fingers. “I’m three.”
“So you are. How many berries did you want?”
“Three.”
Ryan put a hand to his ear as if suddenly stricken deaf.
“Please.”
Jimmy ate his three raspberries with great solemnity. Wiped his mouth. Looked at Ryan. “Thank you for making the berries, Mommy. Thank you for serving the berries, Daddy.”
Ryan cleared his throat. “You’re welcome, son.”
Her little imp was laying on the charm. She waited for the other shoe to drop.
“Where is Daddy going to sleep?”
If she hesitated, Jimmy would remind her she had promised to decide after dinner. “On the couch.”
“Oh.” Jimmy looked between them. “He could sleep in your room. On the floor.”
Ryan shook his head. “You heard your mother. What’s next, Claudia?”
“You get to wash the dishes. I get to wash Jimmy. If you do a good job, you can read him a bedtime story.”
“Deal.” He got up and limped to the sink where he had piled the scraped plates.
“But Daddy has a sore leg,” objected Jimmy.
“Which is why I am going to stand here peacefully washing the dishes, while your mother whips her weight in wildcats in the bathroom.”
Jimmy went off chortling happily at his father’s witticism. All through the splashing and playing with boats and fishies and her travails with soap and a washcloth, she could hear Ryan’s uneven footsteps as he moved around the kitchen.
So he wasn’t just washing the dishes. He was doing the pots and wiping the table. And sweeping. Jimmy was an enthusiastic eater, but he left the floor covered in food.
She hadn’t expected Ryan to acquiesce without a murmur to sleeping on the couch. Not when he had told her he wanted a child. And not after her unguarded and foolish response to his kiss. She had certainly implied she was willing to have sex. She was grateful she wasn’t in for a tussle tonight.
The kitchen was shining and everything seemed to be standing at attention. The table and chairs sat squarely under the light fixture. The dish towels were aligned neatly on the rack.
“Good job,” she said and felt her face heat. “I appreciate it.”
“Thank you.”
“Can Daddy read me my story?”
“I think he can.”
“In my room?”
“On the couch,” Ryan said. “My leg isn’t up to curling up on the floor, and I am not as little as your mother.”
No one who was as round as Claudia was little, but it was a courteous thing to say. A lie? Another lie? Or didn’t social lies count?
Jimmy raced off to get Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel, which was his current favorite. He and Ryan curled up while Claudia opened her laptop and read her emails. She had three inquiries about her accounting business which might translate into work. She answered them, while Ryan’s deep voice rumbled on.
“I want another story,” whined Jimmy.
“Tomorrow night,” Ryan said firmly. “Tell Mommy goodnight. I’ll tuck you in.”
But Jimmy was at the end of his tether. The day’s excitement had finally caught up with him. “But Mommy always tucks me in,” he wailed.
She tensed for a battle of wills. But Ryan only scooped the boy onto his shoulders, distracting him. They trotted across to the table where she was working.
“Shall we both put him to bed tonight?” Ryan asked.
“Yes,” squealed Jimmy in Ryan’s ear.
Ryan winced but he only patted the boy’s leg. “Let’s go, son.”
In no time at all they were back in the living room. “I have a bit more to do,” she confessed.
“And I need to go home to pack a bag. I’ll be back in half an hour.”
“Oh. Maybe you should move in tomorrow?”
“And disappoint Jimmy? Not on your life.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “Lock the door.”
And then she was alone with her thoughts.