Mia Ross - A Place for Family

“Thanks for the help. I guess I’m not quite awake,” she confided with a dainty yawn.

“No problem.” Backing away to cover his discomfort, he nodded at the coffeemaker. “Some of that will help.”

“Oh, I don’t drink it anymore.”

John couldn’t believe his ears. In high school, she’d been a total caffeine hound. “Since when?”

“It’s been a while now.” She cast a longing look at the filling pot, then turned away to get some plates out of the cupboard. “Waffles are warming in the oven, and there’s fresh strawberries. Would you like some?”

John felt odd having her wait on him as if he was at a restaurant instead of in his sister’s kitchen. “Sure, but I’ll get ’em. You’ve got enough to do getting the kids ready for school.”

“Okay.”

While she pulled lunch supplies out of the cupboard, he heaped a plate with waffles. “This is kinda weird, huh? Your working here, I mean,” he added to be clear. He didn’t want her thinking he was up all night wondering what had brought her here. He hadn’t thought about it. Much.

Shrugging, she started spreading peanut butter onto sandwiches. “A little.”

“Well, don’t feel like you have to wait on us or anything,” he advised as he sat down. “We all know where everything is.”

Glancing over, she narrowed her eyes. “Meaning I don’t?”

Sensing he’d unintentionally touched a nerve, John sat back, hands in the air. “Meaning nothing. We’re just not the type of folks who have a housekeeper is all.”

“And I am, is that it?”

“Well, aren’t you?” Sensing they were headed for an argument they’d both regret, he tried to defuse it with a grin. “I mean, you can’t even make coffee.”

She didn’t even try to zing him back, and started hunting through the cupboards for something. He could have asked what she wanted, but after the slap down he’d gotten, he wasn’t inclined to be helpful just now.

Touchy, John thought as he pawed through the newspaper for the sports section. When he glanced over and caught her observing him, her disapproving frown told him she didn’t like the way he’d fanned the paper out across the table. Well, too bad. He’d done that every morning of his life since his father had taught him how to read the baseball box scores. He wasn’t about to change just because some uptight California girl didn’t like a mess.

As she reached into the fridge for drink boxes, she said, “I’m sorry for jumping down your throat.”

“It’s okay. You’ll feel better once you get the hang of things.”

“I thought my PR job was tough,” she confessed while she plucked grapes and dropped them into small plastic containers. “But I only had to worry about my clients and myself, and I had plenty of help. Keeping a family going is a thousand times harder. I don’t know how Marianne does it.”

“Experience,” John replied. “Don’t forget, she got a lot of practice with me.”

Amanda laughed, and in view of the rocky start their morning had gotten off to, John considered that a major improvement.

“Those pocket doors between the kitchen and living room are really nice,” she went on in a much more pleasant tone. “When did you add those?”

“The slots have always been there, but the doors were in the attic. Matt and I put them up last weekend to give Marianne and Ridge some privacy. They’re solid oak, so they keep out a lot of noise, too. Lets Marianne rest when she needs it.”

Dropping the drinks and grapes into each bag, Amanda glanced over at him. “You’re really worried about her, aren’t you?”

John never mentioned it, since he was supposed to be the optimist in the family. But her sympathetic tone made him nod. “We all are. Twins are tough for anyone, and she’s not twenty anymore. Just don’t tell her I said that.”

Smiling, Amanda gave him a broad wink. “I’m great at keeping secrets.”

She sure was. It was driving him nuts, wondering what was going on. Before his good sense could talk him out of bringing it up, he said, “Speaking of secrets, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I drove out here from California and my car broke down,” she answered while she filled the waffle iron with batter.

Cocking his head, he scowled. “And?”

Sighing, she closed the griddle and flashed him a hesitant look. “My parents know, but I’m not sure you want to hear it.”

Folding his hands on the table, he gave her his full attention. “Try me.”

She wet a dishcloth and started cleaning the counter. John knew perfectly well she was trying to avoid looking at him, but he let it go.

“About a year ago,” she began, “this new executive joined our firm. Over drinks one night, he said he was divorced and interested in dating me. We were together about six months before Ted finally told me he was still technically married.”

“Ted who?”

Shaking her head, she gave him an I-know-what-you’re-doing smile.

“Don’t want me going after him, huh?” John asked.

“Bingo.”

“Answer me one thing. How can someone be ‘technically’ married?”

“His words, not mine,” she explained. “Anyway, when I found out, I broke things off. But we were quite an item, so everybody knew about us, and most of them knew he was married. The whole thing was humiliating. As if that wasn’t enough, one Monday we got to the office and the doors were locked. They were glass, and we could see the whole place was empty.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Totally serious,” she responded with a sour expression. “We discovered the company was bankrupt, and the owners had sold off everything that wasn’t nailed down.”

“Just like that? Don’t they have to give you notice or something?”

“Well, they didn’t.”

Bad as all this sounded, her brittle tone alerted John that he hadn’t heard the worst of it. “Something else happened to send you running back here. What was it?”

Another sigh, this one so deep it made his chest ache. “My accountant had some financial problems of his own, and his solution was to borrow—” she added air quotes “—the money from me. The trouble was, he couldn’t pay it back. Long story short, I’m beyond broke. I auctioned off everything I could, but it wasn’t enough to pay off the debts I didn’t know had been piling up over the last two years.”

“That’s stealing,” John pointed out. “Shouldn’t they have put him behind bars or something?”

Anger flared in her eyes, giving them more life than he’d seen the whole time she’d been back. “Trust me, if we could have found him, he’d be in jail.” As quickly as it had spiked, the spirit ebbed away. “The closest we got was hearing he might have gone to Brazil. The problem is, tracking someone down costs money, and I didn’t have any.”

“That explains why you’re driving that car.” Hoping to lighten the mood, he copied her by air-quoting the final word. His attempt earned him a wan smile, but it was better than nothing.

“After a lot of thought, I decided that I’d made every mistake a person possibly could, and I needed a complete change of scenery. Lifestyle-wise and geographically, Harland was as far from L.A. as I could get.” Now, she pinned him with a begging look. “Don’t tell Marianne and Ridge. They’ll think I’m a brainless idiot, and I really need this job. I had to declare bankruptcy, so I’ve got nothing but the clothes in my duffel bag.”

Being a farmer, John was well acquainted with the concept of bankruptcy. While the Sawyers had escaped it themselves, many of their neighbors hadn’t been so fortunate. That Amanda had been forced to endure that harsh penalty through no fault of her own made him want to help her get back on her feet.