CHAPTER SIX
Present
“Are you ready?”
“Yes!”
Jenny took in a deep breath. From this point on, there was no going back. “Got your things?”
Kate spun around to show she was wearing her brand-new backpack.
“Great,” Jenny croaked.
“Mom. Are you going to cry again?”
“Again? What’s this ‘again’? Who’s crying?”
Kate threw her arms around Jenny and squeezed tight. “I’m so excited,” she said, words muffled by Jenny’s sweatshirt.
“Me too.” Jenny cupped the back of Kate’s head for the short moment her daughter clung. “My baby. All grown up. Off to sc-hool.”
“Mom.”
Jenny flapped a hand. “I’m fine. We talked about this. It happens to moms.” She cleared her throat. “Let’s go, kid.”
“Yay!” Kate ran out of the house, tripped on the bottom porch step, bounced back up and stood expectantly by the car, wiping muddy palms down her pants leg.
Jenny closed her eyes briefly. Three seconds until her daughter looked like an urchin. That was a record, even for Kate. “Okay, turn it around. Back in the house. Quick.”
“It’s just a little dirt.” Kate looked down at her pants and wiped at the smears of mud.
Yeah. That helped. “Come on. Hurry. Do you want to be late?”
“No!” Kate shot up the driveway and into the house.
Jenny chased her up the stairs to her bedroom, where Jenny took care of grabbing clean pants from the dresser while Kate kicked off her sneakers. Her backpack kept swinging around her narrow shoulders and bumping her. She dropped it to the bed and concentrated on undressing.
“Here.” Jenny handed Kate the clean pants, Kate handed her the muddy ones. Jenny ran them to the laundry hamper in the bathroom and darted back.
Kate had shimmied into the pants and had one sneaker on, looking around for the other. “I can’t find it,” she said.
“Wear your purple ones.” Jenny pulled them out of the closet.
“I can’t wear my purple ones!” Kate sounded horrified. “I have to wear my lucky ones.”
Jenny glanced around, didn’t see the rogue sneaker. She crouched and peered under the bed.
“Did you find it?” Kate asked. “Is it under there?”
“Yep.” How?
“I’ll get it.” Kate dropped flat and started to squirm.
“No, you don’t.” Jenny hauled her upright. “You stay clean and tidy. Until you get to school. Then get as messy as you like, and it’s your teacher’s fault.”
She dropped to the floor and army-crawled forward until she could sweep her arm all the way under the bed. Her fingertips made contact with the sneaker, she dragged it toward her, and tossed it out.
The reverse crawl was a whole lot less graceful, and by the time Jenny was clear, Kate had both sneakers on.
Jenny sprang to her feet. “Let’s go!”
They ran down the stairs, out the house, and were almost out of the driveway when Jenny glanced in the rearview mirror at Kate’s excited smile. Jenny returned the smile, then registered the empty seat beside Kate. “Backpack!” She threw the car into reverse.
Kate clapped her hands over her face. “I left it on my bed.”
“No problem.” Jenny switched off the car and lunged out. “Don’t move.” She bolted up to the house, up to Kate’s room, and grabbed the backpack.
“Are we going to be late?” Kate asked as Jenny pulled out of the driveway for the second time.
“Not if I have anything to do with it. I don’t think we’ll be able to see Auntie Elle before school, though.”
Kate, still bubbling with enthusiasm, wasn’t too bothered. Jenny, however, felt like crap. She’d promised to take Kate over to Alex and Elle’s house so Elle could see Kate before her first day of kindergarten.
She hated breaking promises.
Jenny called on the hands-free. “Elle?”
“Hey,” her sister said at the other end. “Are you guys almost here?”
“Nope. We had a blip.”
“I fell over,” Kate shouted from the back seat.
“Uh-oh,” Elle said, amusement clear.
“Yeah. Wardrobe change. I’m sorry, Elle. We’re not going to make it.”
It was only a ten-minute drive, but those ten minutes were in the wrong direction.
Once there, it would be at least ten minutes for Elle to get emotional and take photos, then another five minutes to peel Kate away from the dog. Another ten on top, just to get to the point they were at right now.
Jenny had left a buffer for the inevitable emergencies like muddy pants, missing sneakers and forgotten backpacks, but that was cutting it too fine.
“It’s okay,” Elle said. “I’ll see you after school, Katie. You can tell me all about it.”
Elle hid her disappointment, but Jenny knew it was there. Damn. “Sorry,” Jenny said again.
“Don’t worry about it. But I still want photos.”
“Really? You want me to make your niece look like a dork in front of everyone? I thought you liked her.”
“Yes, really. And she won’t look like a dork. Trust me, everyone will be taking photos. This is what proud parents do.”
Okay, Kate wouldn’t look like a dork.
Jenny would.
“Make it a good one,” Elle continued. “I’m going to get it framed and hang it on the wall. I bought the frame already.”
“Photo. Right.”
“Make her stand still for it.”
“Now you ask the impossible.”
They finished the call and Jenny pointed the car toward Emerson. Every now and then, she glanced at Kate. Her daughter’s earlier enthusiasm was fading in direct proportion to how much farther they got from home and how much closer they got to town.
“Mom?” Kate spoke up after a while.
“Kate?”
“Were you excited on your first day of school? Or…were you mostly excited but also a little bit…um…scared?”
Jenny had bawled the entire day. From the moment her mother had pried Jenny’s clutching hand from around her own, hooking her instead onto the teacher like a terrified little monkey, until her mother had turned up—late—hours later. Hours that had felt like a lifetime.
“Excited and scared,” she said. “Definitely both. It’s exciting, but it’s okay to be nervous. And I know for a fact everyone else will be.”
“Will they?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Kate stared out the window, then cocked her head to one side. “Mom?” she said.
“Kate?”
“The car’s making a funny noise.”
Jenny listened. Shit. Goddammit. Not now. Hold on, car. You can do it. I believe in you. Another thirty minutes, then you can go ahead and breakdown. Let me get Kate there first. She eased her foot off the gas and gripped the steering wheel. “It’s fine, honey, I—”
They both yelped when the car bunny-hopped.
Jenny checked the rearview mirror. “Okay?”
“Yes. Why did it—”
The car choked again, and shuddered. Decelerating, Jenny eased to the side of the road.
They were traveling at about ten miles an hour when the car stalled and stopped, its butt hanging out. Probably not enough to get clipped by passing traffic, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Jenny sprang out and ran to the back door. She unbuckled Kate and pulled her out.
They stood side by side, and stared at the car.
“This doesn’t look good,” Kate said.
Jenny, chewing on the edge of her thumbnail, grunted.
Kate sighed. “Is it going to explode?”
“Of course not.” The car was hissing like an angry cat. Steam was coming from under the hood. Jenny wrapped an arm around Kate’s shoulders and walked them further away. “Stay there,” she said. Jenny went back to the car and grabbed her phone from the center console.
She almost didn’t want to look at the screen. The way this morning was going, there wouldn’t be a signal, and she’d have to flag someone down and send for help. Because no way was she going to hitch with a stranger and take her daughter along for the horror ride.
She checked the screen. Thank God. It was working.
She called Elle, and was sent straight to voicemail. On the off-chance that Alex might answer his phone—which in Jenny’s experience had happened exactly never—she tried him.
Voicemail.
Hah.
Lila. Lila would come get them.
Voicemail.
“Would somebody,” Jenny snarled, “please answer their stupid phone!” Poking the screen furiously, she called Lila again.
The third time, it connected.
“What?” said Lila. “I’m busy. Take a hint and leave a message.”
“Help.”
“What?” Lila said again. The attitude was gone and concern took its place. “Jenny, what’s wrong?”
“My car died.”
“Calm down, and— Hey, watch it!” Lila snapped, attitude back and dialed all the way up to one hundred percent.
Jenny blinked. “Watch what?”
“Sorry. Wasn’t talking to you. Some jerk was grinding up against me in line at the coffee shop. He won’t be trying that again anytime soon.”
“Lila! Focus! My car is dead and I’m stuck on the side of the road and I have to get Kate to school!”
“Shoot, you’re not even there yet?”
“No! Help!”
“Weeellll—” Lila dragged the word out.
Jenny gave Kate an encouraging thumbs-up and strode away a few paces to hiss, “No. There is no ‘well’. You’re her godmother. You get your ass here right now and pick us up. Please.”
“Honey, I want to, you know I take my godmother duties very seriously, but I don’t think I’ll be able to swing it. I have…uh…I have a house to show in Mayfield. I’m kind of pressed for time.”
“You can’t be that pressed if you’re standing in line at Megan’s coffee shop.”
“I need my coffee.”
“I’ll buy you twenty coffees. Pick us up. Coffee’s on me. For a month.”
“No can do. But do not despair, my friend. I am sending help.”
“What?”
“Sit tight. Ten, twenty minutes. Rescue is on the way!” Lila disconnected.
Jenny stared at the cell phone in her hand. “Goddammit.” She dialed Lila again.
Voicemail.
“Is Lila coming?” Kate asked. She was collecting rocks and arranging them at the side of the road a safe distance from the car.
“Don’t worry,” Jenny said. “Help will be here soon.” She hoped. She really hoped.
Ten minutes later, Kate had gotten bored arranging her rocks and a familiar car came into view, driving toward them.
Lila had come after all. Jenny waved…and continued waving as Lila blew past them with a cheerful beep of her horn.
Jenny and Kate stared, turning in unison to watch as Lila vanished into the distance.
“Shall we walk?” Kate said.
Even if they ran, they’d be hours late. “I’ll call a cab.”
“Or we could ask Derek.”
Jenny’s head came up. “I can’t call Derek,” she said, even as she clenched her hand around her phone.
She still had his number in her contact list. Hadn’t been able to bring herself to delete it. She had changed it to Hot Buns so she didn’t have to see his name and get a lurch of…whatever that feeling was…whenever she saw it.
Could she call Derek? Jenny chewed her lip. No. No, she couldn’t call him, what was she thinking?
What was Kate thinking?
“Why would I call Derek?” Jenny said.
“You don’t have to call him, I said ask him. He’s already here.” Taking Jenny’s hand, Kate hauled her along the side of the road. “Hi, Derek!”
There he was. A black SUV had pulled over a short distance behind her hissing car. A tall, familiar figure was leaning against the hood.
He was wearing a baseball cap that cast his face in shadow, his usual T-shirt and jeans, and work boots.
Jenny’s mouth went dry.
“Derek!” Kate dropped Jenny’s hand and ran over to him. “Hi.”
“Hey, kid.” He grinned down at Kate. When he looked over at Jenny, his smile faded. He dipped his chin. “Jen.”
“Hello,” she said stiffly.
Silence fell.
“I’m starting kindergarten today,” Kate said, glancing between them.
“That right?” Derek said.
“Yep.”
“Bet you’re gonna crush it.”
Kate lifted and lowered a single shoulder, then sighed. “It’s not going so well,” she told him.
“You’re not there yet.”
“I know. We’ve been trying to get there all morning.”
“You’re having problems, I take it?” Derek said to Jenny.
“No. Everything’s fine.”
“Oh. Okay.” Derek pushed off his car.
“Mom,” Kate said.
“Derek, wait.” Jenny shoved her hair away from her hot face. “Everything’s not fine,” she admitted.
“That explains the steam coming out of your car. You guys need a ride into town?”
“I’d hate for you to go out of your way—”
“Mom.”
“Yes, Derek, a ride into town would be delightful, thank you so very much.”
His lips twitched.
Derek took the booster seat out of Jenny’s car and made quick work of installing it in his SUV. They put Kate in the back, then he had Jenny sit in her car and steer while he put a shoulder to the rear bumper to heave it clear of the road.
“Any time now,” Jenny called out the open window. “Whenever you’re ready.” She waited, drumming her fingers on the wheel. “What are you doing back there, tickling it?” The light changed and she looked up into Derek’s dark blue eyes.
“No, I’m not tickling it,” he said. “I strained so hard I nearly blew a vein.”
Jenny slid out. “I thought you lifted weights.”
“Weights. Not cars. Not cars up a hill. Get back here and give me some help.”
“Leave it. I don’t even care anymore.”
“Might get hit.”
She threw her hands out. “I don’t care.”
“Person hitting it might care.”
“Good point.” Jenny followed him to the rear of the vehicle, spread her feet wide, and braced her hands on the back.
Derek stared at her. “You expecting me to frisk you or something?”
“No. I’m going to push.”
“Try it this way.” He bent his knees, set a broad shoulder against the bumper, and nodded at her.
Right. Don’t ogle his biceps. Jenny copied his stance. I can’t help looking. They’re bulging. “On three,” she said.
“Push it now.”
Jenny scrambled to keep up, threw her weight behind it, and what do you know? They managed to shift the car.
“Catch it!” she yelled as the wheels scrunched over loose gravel and they stopped pushing.
Shaking his head at her, Derek strolled to the open driver’s door. He angled into the seat and put the parking brake on. He reached an arm behind him, hooked something from the back, and unfolded to standing. “You need this?”
Kate’s backpack. Good grief, it was lurid yellow with black stripes and a cartoon bee’s smiling face on it, you would not think it was easy to overlook. “Thanks.”
Derek locked the car and pocketed her keys.
“I need those,” Jenny said.
He strode past, caught her arm and hustled her to the SUV. “Later.”
They loaded up. Derek checked his mirrors and pulled out. “All right back there?” he said to Kate.
“Yep.”
“Here you go, honey.” Jenny passed her the backpack.
“I forgot it again,” Kate said.
She sounded so mournful that Jenny couldn’t hide her smile. She glanced at Derek and met his eyes. They were soft and amused.
Until Kate added, “Don’t tell Uncle Gabe I keep forgetting it, Mom. It’ll hurt his feelings.”
All Derek’s warmth vanished.
Oblivious to the sudden drop in temperature, Kate continued, explaining for Derek’s benefit, “Uncle Gabe came from San Francisco last week especially to bring it for me because he said I needed to have a cool backpack for my first day of school. Wasn’t that nice of him?”