Page 41 of Long Road Home

“Are you kidding me?” Rebecca asked snappily. “First you make me help finish cooking and then I have to clean?”

“Thanks, sis.” I kissed the top of her head. “You’re the best.”

“You’re the worst host in the world.”

“Wasn’t planning on hosting you. This will teach you a lesson.” I stuck my tongue out at her, as juvenile as that could be and turned to Toby. “You ready to go?”

“Mom?” he asked. And it occurred to me that while his mom’s eyes had gotten wet, Toby had gone silent. “I can help you.”

See? Damn good kid.

“No.” She grinned at him. “Go ahead. Go have fun. This will give Rebecca and I a chance to catch up, anyway.”

Had to give her credit. She said that like she didn’t want to spit nails at the same time. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one trying.

“Won’t be long.”

Toby walked toward me, and I slapped my hand to his shoulder. “Come on, little man. Let’s do this.”

Thirteen

Destiny

Stabbingforks into the backs of my hands repeatedly seemed like a much more enjoyable way to pass the time than spending it with Rebecca, but then my son looked at me with concern. Jordan looked at me so hopeful and my brain must have short-circuited from the dinner he made and why he made it.

It was the only reasonable explanation for how I ended up alone with Rebecca in the kitchen of Jordan’s house, a home that was large and impressive with a two-story foyer and gleaming wood floors, and everything about it screamed brand new and expensive. It was exactly the kind of house we’d dreamed of owning together someday and that thought had sent a punch to my stomach as soon I walked through it earlier.

It was decorated in masculine grays, white woodwork, dark granite countertops that spoke of the elegance and cost factor involved in the place, but that wasn’t exactly a surprise. He had to have millions in his account from his baseball playing days. Plus, since Jordan had walked back into our lives, I’d looked into his resort.

Truth be told, I’d looked into everything I could find about Jordan when I wasn’t meeting with lawyers and speaking to the realtor to waylay our leaving and selling plans.

Maize Tholton had been surprised, to say the least, I wasn’t planning on taking off immediately. In her thirties, she was older than me, and while she’d been kind and professional, friendly had been outside her wheelhouse when it came to meeting me.

I brushed it off like I did with every person I ran into in Carlton, intent on staying the course I’d promised Jordan, the course I knew Toby so desperately wanted.

Rebecca had the ability to shatter all those shaky promises. She’d been cordial to me, mostly ignoring me in favor of getting Toby to open up. Cooper was the only person at the table who’d tried to pull me into conversation and I didn’t know if Jordan was content with watching, waiting to see if he’d need to step in or if he wanted to see how much moxie I was built with—which was little to none—but even he had been mostly a voyeur to Rebecca and Toby.

That didn’t exactly mean I was gung-ho to be alone with her either.

If I was a betting woman, I’d say she was thinking the same.

I stayed in my chair until the golf cart drove past the kitchen bay windows, two grown men and one boy waving merrily at us as they passed. Once they were out of sight, I pushed off from my chair and began cleaning the dishes. I grabbed all the plates from the table and chose to ignore Rebecca who remained at the kitchen table, sipping a glass of white wine, eyes on the wall of windows, but it was clear her mind was a million miles away.

It was when I was making a third trip from the table to the kitchen with handfuls of silverware when Rebecca finally moved.

“I’ll rinse and load them,” she said. She still hadn’t looked at me.

“Thank you.” I continued clearing the table, sliding plates and silverware onto the counter. The silence between us reached suffocating levels. There was only so much strained silence, which blared louder than the clanking of plates on granite, I could take.

I’d made mistakes. A lot of them. Huge ones. Nasty, horrible mistakes that affected a hell of a lot of people. If I could go back and change that, I would. But I’d also altered my entire summer and my son’s life in order to begin taking steps to fix those mistakes.

Plus, I wasn’t eighteen years old anymore. I was a grown woman with a child to protect and a backbone that somehow formed when I least expected it.

“Why have you never liked me?” I asked and immediately choked on the question.

Good God. That’s what I led with? My backbone needed help.

Her back stiffened and something clattered in the sink.

---