Lynnette Kent - Single with Kids

The phone rang while she took a break with a cup of coffee in the kitchen.

“Good evening, Valerie.” Connor Manion Sr., attorney to New York’s new money, had taken speech lessons to smooth Brooklyn out of his voice.

“Con.” She turned her back to the kitchen door, hoping the kids wouldn’t hear. “What’s wrong?”

“Why should there be something wrong? I called to check on my children.”

“For the first time in three months.”

“I’ve been in Europe on a case.”

“How nice for you.”

“Much nicer than Ohio or—where are you now?— Hicksville, North Carolina.”

“What do you want, Con?”

“You should’ve stuck with the sure thing, Val. You could have been in Paris this summer, too. Great clothes in Paris, and I remember how you like clothes.”

She chose to say nothing and, as usual, silence goaded her ex-husband into some fast talking.

“Anyway, I want to chat with the kids. But first I thought I’d let you know that the check’s coming.”

“In the mail, no doubt.”

“Monday, at the latest.”

“Is this July’s check, or August’s?”

The veneer cracked. “What the hell are you talking about? I sent money all summer.”

“No, you didn’t.”

After a seething few seconds, he recovered. “My secretary must’ve scr…missed some paperwork. I’m sure I directed her to send those checks.”

“That’s what you’d like the court to think, anyway. Don’t worry, Con. I haven’t reported you. Yet.”

“Don’t sound so superior, damn you. You need the money, I know you do.”

“The kids need your money. All I need from you I have in them. Hold on and I’ll bring Grace to the phone.”

The excitement that Con’s phone call produced in her children was depressing, but Val managed to maintain a cheerful expression until they went to bed. Worn out by the effort, she got into her own bed a half hour earlier than usual. Lying on her side, she rested her cheek on her right palm, and then remembered shaking hands with Rob Warren. The thought made her smile.

Maybe tonight, she could look forward to her dreams.

“THERE YOU GO,” Rob told his daughter once they were in their van and headed home. “Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?”

Ginny shrugged a thin shoulder. “I guess.”

“Aw, come on. You like being outdoors, right? We can go camping and fishing and all sorts of things.”

“We could do that anyway. We don’t need a bunch of girls to go with us.”

“Yeah, but I bet you’ll have fun with those other girls. Grace seems really nice.”

“She talks funny.”

He chuckled. “She has a New York accent, like her mom. Definitely different from Southern English.”

“And her little brother is a pest.”

“That’s what little brothers are for. So big sisters don’t get too comfortable.”

A spark of real interest flared in her gray eyes. “You treated Aunt Jen that way?”

“I’m sure I did. You can ask her tonight.”

Ginny nodded. “I will.”

She got her chance when his sister Jenny came through the back door, just as they finished cleaning up after dinner.

Jen stopped in her tracks, pretending to be surprised. “You didn’t save me any?”

“You hate macaroni and cheese, Aunt Jen.” Ginny gave her a hug. “Was Daddy really a pest when he was little?”

“The worst.” Jen sat at the table and pulled Ginny close to her side. Mat the Cat jumped onto her lap and settled with a purr as Ginny rubbed his ears. “I could never get rid of him. And he would take my stuff and hide it. I still haven’t found my favorite Barbie doll—the one I painted to look like a Shoshone warrior.”

Rob leaned his hips back against the counter, tapping one finger against his temple, as if thinking hard. “Oh, yeah. Where did I put that?” He shook his head. “Nope, can’t remember. It’s gone forever. Ready for your bath, Gin?”

She heaved a huge sigh. “I guess so.”

“Don’t sound so put-upon.” Jen got to her feet, pulling her shoulder-length, silvery blond hair into a ponytail with a band on her wrist. “I brought new bath lotion—bubblegum scent.”

“Cool.” Ginny led the way out of the kitchen. In a few minutes, her giggles floated down the hallway on the sound of water flowing into the tub.

As Rob folded the dish towel and turned out the kitchen light, Jen stuck her head around the doorframe. “You okay?”

He straightened his shoulders. “Sure.”

“You look…tired.”

“Long day.” Weren’t they all?

“Another argument with Dad?”

“Among other things. How about you?”

Her face dropped its smiling mask. “Sure. I’m okay.” Sadness clouded her eyes, but then she shook her head. “We’ll be done in a while. I’ll go through her exercises with her tonight. You take it easy.”

“Thanks, Jen. I’ll be outside.” Rob pulled a beer out of the fridge and carried it to the back porch, shutting the door behind him to keep the cool air in and the hot evening out. Despite the high cost of air-conditioning, he wouldn’t think about turning the thermostat up. Ginny couldn’t sleep if the house got hot. And they both needed her sleep.

As he shook off the disloyal thought, he heard a car door slam out in front of the house. The side gate creaked open, and his friend, Pete Mitchell, came into the yard.

“’Evening,” Rob said, lifting his beer in a toast. “Want one?”

“Sounds great.”

When Rob left the house this time, Mat the Cat came with him. The orange tiger started to rub up against Pete’s leg, then took a sniff and darted down the steps into the grass. “I guess he smells Miss Dixie on my jeans.” Sitting on the step beside Rob, Pete took the beer and cracked open the top. “I stopped to feed her before I came over.”

“Yeah, Mat’s not real fond of the canine club. No classes tonight?” The state trooper organized and managed a nightly school program for teenagers who’d run afoul of the law.

“Friday night doesn’t draw enough kids to make the effort worthwhile. Jen’s inside with Ginny? How’s she holding up?” Pete had been part of the law enforcement procession during the funeral of Jenny’s fiancé, killed in the line of duty back in June.

“She says okay. What else can she say?” Rob took a draw on his beer. “Where’s your better half? And your half pint?”

“There’s a wedding shower for Jacquie Archer at Dixon Bell’s house, so I’m on my own. Mary Rose took Joey with her. I guess babies and weddings kinda go together, don’t they?” Pete leaned back against the step behind him.

“That’s the best way, so I hear.”

“I ate supper down at the diner with DeVries and Bell—both of them making do without wives tonight, like me. But, man, I hate being a bachelor again. Just doesn’t feel right.” After a swig of his beer, Pete threw him a sidelong glance. “That was a dumb thing to say. Sorry.”

“No problem.” Although Rob had been one of the first in their high school class to walk down the aisle, his three best friends and basketball buddies had caught up with him in the last couple of years. Along with Pete, Dixon Bell and Adam DeVries had each found a woman to share their lives with. Now Jacquie Archer, another friend of theirs from high school, had a wedding in the works. “I guess love is in the air these days in New Skye.”

“So it’s your turn.” His friend punched him in the shoulder. “We need to find you a nice woman of your own.”

Rob snorted. “Yeah, right. It’s not that big a town, Pete. I already know every eligible woman—grew up with most of them—and the prospects aren’t good. Besides…” He finished his beer. “I’ve got responsibilities nobody else can take on.”