Delores Fossen - Texas On My Mind

“Riley has never fudged me.” Claire paused. “He’s hurt, Livvy.”

That reminder flicked away the annoyance she was feeling about Livvy’s interrogation. But Claire replaced the flicked-away emotion with one she’d been trying to keep out of her head.

Worry.

“Is it bad?” Livvy asked.

“Maybe.” Probably, Claire silently amended.

“God, I just can’t imagine doing what he does. Ever googled Combat Rescue Officer and looked at some of those pictures?”

Once. It had been enough.

Livvy made a shuddering sound. “And to think, he’s been doing that job for a long time.”

Nine years. Since he graduated from college and joined the Air Force. Riley had been on six deployments, and even though Claire didn’t know the exact locations, she was betting there’d been plenty of other times when he could have been wounded or killed.

Ethan grumbled something, clearly not pleased about his car-bashing game. Claire glanced over to make sure all was well. It wasn’t. One of the cars had broken. Again. Thank heavens it wasn’t one of his favorites so his reaction was mild. The Terrible Twos wasn’t just a cliché when it came to her baby boy. He often aimed high to live up to that particular label.

She needed to find a toddler genius kit to help her with that.

“You think Riley’s got PTSD or something?” Livvy went on.

This was even less comfortable than the fudge question. “If he does, I’m sure there’s help for that at the base in San Antonio. From what he told his sister, he’ll be starting physical therapy there soon.”

The military would patch him up, both physically and mentally if needed, and Riley would go right back out there on deployment again. To someplace dangerous. Because that’s what he did. What he’d always wanted since middle school.

“You haven’t asked me about the hot date,” Livvy said a moment later.

“Date-date, or are we talking fruit now?” And Claire was serious. Livvy had a thing for trying new foods and men. Lots of men. She had been married three times and was always on the lookout for ex number four. Thankfully, she didn’t live in Spring Hill or she would have single-handedly skewed their divorce stats.

“Date-date. You know, the guy I met from the dating site. I told you, didn’t I?”

“I don’t think so.” She’d been living vicariously—sexually anyway—through Livvy since having Ethan. “How’d it go?”

“Sugar hot,” Livvy declared. “His name is Alejandro just like the Lady Gaga song. He’s an albino drummer in a heavy metal band.” She giggled like a schoolgirl. “I predict lots of fudging in my future.”

Since Livvy seemed excited about his name/career/pigment/fudging combo, Claire was happy for her. Or rather cautiously optimistic. “Is he nice?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t go out with a grouchy asshole again. Sorry, we’ll work on that word. Anyway, other than his pinkeye, he’s perfect.”

“Uh, I don’t know a lot about albinos, but I think pink eyes are normal for them.”

“Not pink eyes,” Livvy quickly corrected. “Pinkeye. He’s using drops for it, though, so it should clear up soon. You really should use this dating site, Claire. It’s the best one yet.”

She’d rather have pinkeye. “I’m on hiatus from dating. Until I get Ethan potty trained.” Of course, there was no correlation. None. But thankfully it was an argument that always worked with Livvy.

“So, making any progress getting the house ready to sell?” Livvy asked.

Claire wanted to say a hallelujah for the change of topic. “Some. Gran wasn’t a hoarder exactly, but she didn’t throw away much. I’ll keep at it until a new job comes in.”

“Already got two. Wedding announcement photos. I’ll email you the dates and details.”

There were clearly more procrastination possibilities on the horizon. It was probably depression over Gran’s death, but Claire felt stuck in Neutral.

“Oh, and Daniel called the office, looking for you,” Livvy added. “Said his fudging phone died after a software update, and he lost all his sugar, including your phone number.”

The timing was odd. What with Riley’s arrival back in Spring Hill. Like her, Daniel no longer lived there, but that didn’t mean a gossip or two hadn’t called him in San Antonio with news of Riley’s homecoming.

Rather than come out and ask that, Claire took the roundabout route. “Did Daniel want anything specific?”

“Well, I’m guessing he wanted you. I gave him your number, so I figure you’ll get a call from him soon.”

“Good.” And Claire would be happy to hear from Daniel. Almost. “Gotta go,” she said when Ethan yawned and stomped on one of the cars. “I’ll send you these engagement pictures as soon as I’m done.”

The moment she ended the call, Claire hit the save button on her files and picked up Ethan. He started to fuss right away. In part because he knew nap time was coming. Also in part because he needed a nap.

She changed his diaper. Not an easy feat now that the grumpy boy had emerged. Still, she loved grumpy boy just as much as the other boys that materialized throughout the day. Ethan had her heart. And the little sugar knew it.

“No getting up,” she warned him when she put him in his crib.

He was quickly outgrowing it. Outgrowing naps, too. And it wouldn’t be long before he really would be ready for potty training.

Her baby was growing up so fast.

Not that she would miss the whole diapering thing and having him test his aiming skills by trying to pee in her eye. She’d convinced herself that it was a labor of love. But it was also time when she had Ethan close and he wasn’t running away from her.

Plus, she’d lose that excuse she kept giving to Livvy about not dating.

Since Ethan might or might not obey that no-getting-up part and since he might try to climb out of the crib again, Claire knew she’d need to spend at least fifteen minutes with him while he fell asleep. No use wasting that time, so she went into the hall to bring one of the cardboard boxes into the makeshift nursery with her. She had plenty of boxes to choose from. At least thirty that she’d already dragged down from the attic or found in the back of her gran’s closet.

There’d been spiders involved.

Something that made her shiver just thinking about it.

The various cousins had already gone through the house and taken items of furniture and such that they’d wanted. Which wasn’t nearly enough to clear out the place. Every room, every corner was still crammed with bits and pieces that reminded Claire of the woman who’d raised her. The woman she’d loved.

Damn it.

The tears came. They always did whenever she thought of Gran.

God, she missed her.

Opening the box wouldn’t help, either, but going through whatever was inside was the next step to getting the house ready to go on the market. Claire wasn’t exactly strapped for cash. Yet. But her savings had dwindled considerably what with all the time she’d taken off to be with Ethan.

She didn’t regret that time off, not for a second, but she didn’t have the comfortable financial pad that she needed. Since Gran had left her the house free and clear, anything Claire got from the sale would be hers to keep.

She put the box on the floor, glanced over at Ethan. Still not asleep, but his eyelids were getting droopy.

The tape holding the box was so old that it gave way with a gentle tug, and Claire opened the flap. Checked for spiders.

Nothing scurried out at her.

So she began the sorting. She’d set aside another area at the end of the hall to deal with the contents of each box. One pile for stuff to keep. Another for items to be donated. A final one for trash.