Susan Mallery - The Friends We Keep

When she’d first met Andrew, he’d only had Makayla on weekends. Then, just before she and Andrew had married, Candace had asked for a change in the parenting plan—giving him equal custody. A few years after that, Candace had again asked for a change, this time giving Andrew full custody with Makayla visiting her mom every other weekend.

Gabby had known there wasn’t a choice. That while Andrew asked her if it was okay, the truth was, she couldn’t say no. Of course he wanted his daughter around more. The fact that he was at work and traveling, leaving her to deal with the teen, was immaterial. With Candace basically rejecting her only child, it was up to them to make the girl feel welcome. Gabby did her best, although sometimes it was hard.

She wanted to love her stepdaughter and was pretty sure she did. But liking her was more of a challenge. She wrestled with the expected emotions, like anger and resentment. But sometimes there was jealousy, too. Jealousy that Andrew had done the husband/father thing before. That no matter how she tried, she would never be first. There had always been another wife, another child before her and the twins.

She sorted the folded laundry by owner, then dropped it off in each bedroom. She paused in front of Makayla’s open door, braced herself for the lingering effects of the weekend visit, then offered a cheerful, “Knock, knock.”

Makayla was sitting on her bed, her unopened suitcase on the floor beside her. She looked up when Gabby entered.

“I know it’s late for these,” she said, placing the white crop pants on the dresser, “but I felt bad you didn’t have them to take with you. If you tell me you need something, I’ll try to get it washed.”

Makayla’s head was bent so her hair mostly covered her face. “Sure,” she mumbled.

“I could teach you to do laundry yourself.”

“No, thanks.”

Gabby wanted to stomp her foot. The teen was plenty old enough to be washing her own clothes. All the books she’d read on teenagers said it was important that they be given clearly defined chores. But Andrew wasn’t a fan of that. He wanted Makayla to, as he put it, “Have time to be a kid and not always have to deal with crap around the house.” Then he told Gabby to hire a housekeeper so she wouldn’t think the situation was unfair.

She already had a service every other week to take care of the deep cleaning and even that made her feel guilty. But once she was back to work, they would be a necessity. At least that was what she told herself. And having a housekeeper wasn’t the point. Makayla needed to be a contributing member of the household. Watching the twins when she was in the mood and setting the table wasn’t enough.

Everyone had their flaws, she reminded herself. Andrew was a great husband and father and she could live with his unrealistic expectations of what it meant to be a teenager.

“Everything go okay with your mom?” she asked, then braced herself for the response. Because while Makayla didn’t like to talk about her weekends, she complained when no one mentioned them.

“It was fine. I want to have friends over this week. After camp.”

Andrew walked in and sat next to his daughter. He pulled her against him. “Friends? Do I know these friends? Are they in a rock band? Because you know how I feel about rock bands.”

That earned him a slight chuckle. As Makayla leaned against her dad, her hair fell away from her face and Gabby could see she’d been crying.

Her low-grade annoyance at Makayla’s easy life here gave way to anger directed at Candace. Why couldn’t Makayla’s mother care just a little? Would it kill her to be nice to her only kid?

“Just let me know what day,” Gabby said. “I’ll make sure the twins have plenty to do.” Because there was nothing the five-year-olds liked more than hanging out with their big sister and her friends.

“Thanks. Maybe Wednesday. We have to decide.”

“How many? I’ll bake cookies.” She’d learned that no matter how surly the teenager, he or she could be bribed with cookies out of the oven.

“Three or four. Brittany, Jena and Boyd for sure.”

Gabby’s radar clicked on. “Boyd’s been hanging out here a lot.”

Boyd was an unassuming sixteen-year-old. Never in a million years would she think he was capable of anything. But she’d seen the movie Juno enough times to know looks could be deceiving.

Andrew looked up and chuckled. “Gabby, it’s fine. Makayla’s only fifteen. She’s not into Boyd that way, are you, honey?”

Makayla rolled her eyes. “We’re all friends, Gabby. It’s not like that.”

“Humor me on this,” Gabby said lightly. “When Boyd is here, you all stay downstairs in the family room. I’ll keep the twins in their playroom.”

Andrew surprised her by nodding. “Good practice for when you bring home the football captain.” He kissed the top of his daughter’s head. “Jocks love pretty girls who are secretly smart. I should probably take up karate so I can take them on if they get out of hand.”

He made a slashing motion with his arm. Makayla got up. “Da-ad, stop. You’re not going to do karate on any of my boyfriends.”

“There’s an easy solution, kid. Never get a boyfriend. That way you won’t break your old man’s heart.”

Andrew rose and followed Gabby out of the room. In the hallway, she turned to him.

“I’m worried about Boyd.”

“Don’t be.” He put his arm around her. “I’ve seen the kid. He’s probably gay. Plus he’s too young.”

“They’re so not too young, but as long as they stay in the family room, we should be okay.”

“You worry too much.”

“I can’t help it.”

“I know and I love you for it.”

Chapter Five

Nicole felt like the White Rabbit as she kept chanting, “I’m late, I’m late.” She didn’t add the “for a very important date” part, but she felt it. She could hear the tick, tick, ticking in her head as she circled the parking lot, looking for a spot.

The lot was packed. Had every family in Mischief Bay conspired to take advantage of the beautiful beach weather?

“Finally!”

She saw a spot at the very end and goosed the engine to claim it before someone else did. Then she jumped out of her SUV, grabbed her tote, slammed the door and hit the lock button on the key fob before dashing toward the park.

She wanted to say it wasn’t her fault. Her class at the senior center had gone long because she’d been having a good time. There was something so sweet and life-affirming about watching a bunch of seniors dancing together. Especially the couples who had been married sixty and seventy years. Their bones might be frail, but their love was strong. She’d gotten caught up in the lesson and watching them and had totally forgotten that she had to be at the park to collect Jairus Sterenberg and bring him to Tyler’s camp.

A psychologist would probably have a field day with her convenient memory lapse. He or she might point out that there was something very passive-aggressive about the whole situation and later, Nicole promised herself, she would have a good, long think about it. But until then, she was going to simply run as fast as she could, considering she was wearing three-inch heels and a purple tango dress with a very short skirt.

The irony of her running to meet the author of Brad the Dragon did not escape her. Nor was she unamused by the fact that she was the parent liaison. Yes, Tyler had begged, but she knew it was more than that. Life had a sense of humor. She was constantly reminded of that fact. Which meant she was frantically searching for a town car—God forbid the man actually drive himself—and the man who would step out of it.

She spotted the black vehicle pull up to the curb and hurried toward it. The back door opened and a guy got out. Nicole slowed to a walk, then came to a stop altogether.