So many things to do …
Jenny scratched off one item on the list and sighed as she studied the remaining twenty-plus errands. She was leaving for Puerto Vallarta in a week and she felt overwhelmed.
A throbbing beat from Rawley’s bedroom speakers shook the apartment hard enough to measure on the Richter scale. Marching down the hall, she rapped loudly on his door. “Rawley! Rawley!”
She didn’t doubt that he couldn’t hear her. He’d need the alertness of a hunted animal to discern anything beyond that awful noise. She slammed her palm against the door panels until her hand smarted, then twisted the knob and opened the door a crack.
“Hey!” Rawley yelled, affronted. “Don’t I deserve some privacy?”
“Not when your music is blowing away half of Houston.” His mutinous glare followed her as she walked to the speakers and deftly lowered the volume. “There are rules. I don’t make them. I just have to abide by them because I signed a lease to that effect. And I don’t feel like getting kicked out two weeks before we leave at the end of the month.”
Benny barked as if to answer from the other side of Rawley’s bed. He bounded across the room, jumping up against her, muddy paws dirtying her denim shirt.
Frustration filled her and it took effort to hold back her anger. Grabbing Benny by the collar she half walked, half dragged the dirty pooch to the door and pushed him onto the outside deck that led to the stairs to the street Instantly, he tried to turn around and wriggle back inside but Jenny clamped her legs against the doorjamb, blocking his entry. “For the love of Pete, go home!” she declared in exasperation.
Moments later she slammed the door and turned back to Rawley’s room. The volume was somewhat higher than when she’d left, but at least it wouldn’t make her ears bleed. “There are muddy footprints across the carpet. Please clean them up,” she said in a tone that warned of future injunctions should her reasonable request be ignored.
Closing his door softly behind her, Jenny inhaled a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Some birthday, she thought. She thought of her inheritance, due to be transferred to her account tomorrow, and wondered why it didn’t cheer her up. Right now all she wanted to do was sit down and cry. Rawley didn’t remember today was her birthday.
But why should he? She hadn’t mentioned it And teenagers weren’t known for looking outside themselves. Had she been like that when she was young? So self-absorbed that she couldn’t even recall her parents’ birthdays? No. She’d always known her mother’s. She’d wanted to. It was important.
As she wiped off Benny’s pawprints from her shirt and slacks Jenny’s mind opened on her past. She remembered how ill her mother had been for so long. It had seemed like an eternity. She’d been alternately angry at her mother and consumed with despair. Iris Holloway had quietly passed away when Jenny was on the verge of adolescence and she had pretended to stoically accept her mother’s death during the daylight hours although she cried silent, bitter tears at night in the sanctuary of her lonely room.
Her once close relationship with her father had ended at nearly the same time. Four months after Iris’s death he married Natalie, who’d barely passed her twenty-first birthday at the time of the wedding. The rest of Jenny’s high school years were a blur and only when she met Troy Russell did they focus on some kind of reality.
What a mistake! She’d eloped with him at eighteen and spent six miserable months in a marriage her father had tried to break with every legal means available. And she had ended up leaving Troy the last time he shoved her against the wall hard enough to break through the sheet rock.
She blocked the memories right there, fighting back an involuntary shudder. She’d made a life for herself and Rawley over the last fifteen years, and she rarely thought about those dark days. She’d walked through the fire and come out on the other side only slightly singed. She was one of the lucky ones.
With new resolve she went in search of the carpet spot remover. It was all well and good to demand that Rawley clean up, but he always needed nagging if she wanted results. And sometimes she just did the darn job herself rather than wage the battle.
After scrubbing up the worst of the pawprints from the hall carpet, she set the blue can of spot remover on the edge of the kitchen counter and set about making herself a cup of tea. She’d certainly made huge mistakes during her teen years, but she’d never been as outwardly rebellious as her son. Was it a matter of gender, or the times, or just fate? Whatever the case, Rawley was making a very noisy statement today.
More memories came back to her. Her first Troy sighting, that summer after high school, when Jenny was supposed to be preparing for college. But all she thought about was Natalie holding hands with her father, Natalie girlishly squealing when Allen bought her a diamond necklace, Natalie learning tennis from a personal trainer who winked at Jenny a little too suggestively every time he walked by. It was revolting and Jenny spent endless hours driving her blue Mercedes convertible in aimless circles, wishing for something to happen.
Lost, angry and searching for escape, she had literally run into Troy’s beat-up Dodge truck with her car. He’d just parked in one of the private spaces reserved for the Holloway elite at Houston’s original Rancho del Sol. Jenny hadn’t meant to hit him. She’d just been so distracted that she slammed her foot on the accelerator instead of the brake and bumped hard into the back of his car. His look of horror was almost comical, and Jenny leaped out of her car and apologized over and over eventually running out of steam since he never responded with so much as a syllable.
“I’m sorry,” she said for the umpteenth time. “I’ll pay for it.”
“Never mind,” he finally replied. “I shouldn’t have been in your parking spot.”
“Oh, no!” Jenny was eager to take the blame. “It’s my fault. Come inside. I’ve got my insurance information …”
And that was how Troy was introduced to Allen. Jenny, reverting to childish ways, let her father handle all the particulars. It turned out Troy was looking for a job. He had a business degree from UC Berkeley, or so he maintained, and wanted to work in restaurant management It was all a lie, but he had enough phony credentials to back up his claim; and Allen, happy to have his daughter’s accident so easily dispensed with, hired Troy then and there.
And Troy played the part of everyone’s favorite guy. Cool even in the worst Houston heat. A trait Jenny had admired and learned later to distrust completely. Someone somewhere had said that there were two types of physical abusers: those that flew into a white rage and were dangerous because they were out of control; and those whose heartbeat actually decelerated in the anticipation of a physical battle. Calm and cool but imbued with the swiftness and intensity of a cobra. That was Troy.
Hero-worship had consumed her, despite Allen’s disapproval. And when her shocked father stumbled upon the two of them in an embrace, his gaze flicking from Troy to Jenny and back again, she found her weapon against him without even trying.
Allen hustled her into his back office and gave her an ultimatum: she was not to see Troy Russell as anything but an employee.
She eloped with Troy the following spring. Her first inkling of trouble was at the end of the ceremony, when Troy Russell kissed his new bride and then looked down at her with a smile on his face. Not the loving smile of a new husband. The smile of a conqueror … the smile of a scam artist who’d just pulled off an enormous coup.
“Mom?”
Rawley’s voice brought her back to reality. He stood at the edge of the counter, eyeing her worriedly before his gaze dropped to the blue can of spot remover. “Oh,” she murmured, turning around and reaching for the paper towels. “Here. Maybe you could clean up the pawprints in your room.”
He took the paper towels and the can and asked, “What were you thinking about?”
“Nothing much.”
“Yeah?”
“Just the work I need to finish before we go on vacation.”
He nodded. “I’m going over to Brandon’s for a few minutes. After I do this,” he added, indicating the spot remover.
“Wait. Don’t go.”
“Why not?”
“I just kind of want you here, today. This afternoon …”
“What for?”
What for, indeed? To make your mother’s birthday something to remember? “I don’t know. Oh, never mind.” She smiled wanly. “Have a good time.”
The tears she’d been battling suddenly welled in her eyes. Rawley gazed at her in consternation.
“Mom …?”
“I’m okay … really … I’m just tired.” With that, she collapsed onto one of the two bar stools, struggling to get her emotions under control.
The doorbell rang and Benny, still on the porch, started barking at whoever was standing outside with him. Instantly Rawley ran to the rescue, cracking open the door, collaring Benny as he streaked inside. “Oh, hi,” he said to the newcomer.
“Hello, there. You’ve grown a few inches since the last time I saw you. Pretty soon you’ll be looking for a job at Rancho del Sol!”
Jenny brushed her tears away and got up, stopping short at the archway in stunned amazement. Her father … Allen Holloway … stood in the doorway.
Rawley hung onto Benny for dear life and managed an uncomfortable smile. “I guess …”
“Well, hello,” Jenny greeted him, forcing a lightness she didn’t feel. Her father had never come to her apartment. He’d never been invited and she hadn’t even known he knew where it was.
“Are you going to invite me in or make me wait out here all day?” Allen asked with an attempt at humor as flat as Jenny’s smile.
“Of course. Come in.” She walked across the room as Rawley stepped aside, one hand still on Benny’s collar. “What in the world are you doing out this way?”
He wore a pair of gray slacks, a navy suit coat and a polo shirt, his normal dress for a Sunday afternoon at his club. If Jenny had been thinking, she would have realized the reason for his visit immediately, but she was just so surprised to see him—and wary—that her brain seemed to stall.
“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” he asked.
Rawley threw his mother a stricken look.
“Well, yes, it is,” she said, aching for her son and wishing Allen could have been the one to let the event slip by rather than Rawley.
“Happy birthday, honey.” Awkwardly he pulled her into an embrace and Jenny did her darnedest to hug him back with feeling. But too many memories intruded, memories of other birthdays and events where the hours they spent together were filled with him badgering her about her future and her sinking into resolute silence. Even after Troy was out of their lives, he’d called and cajoled and tried to force her to come work with him. Her resistance, and refusal of all monetary help, frustrated the hell out of him.
Now, however, Jenny swallowed as her gaze flew over the magazines and leftover mail scattered on the coffee table. She mentally congratulated herself for recycling the bottle of chianti she’d begun with a frazzled Janice Ferguson a few days earlier and finally finished the evening before. She would have liked her father to see her place in its most immaculate state, but a muddy pawprint caught her attention and she realized that was hopeless. Why it mattered, she wouldn’t consider. It just did. She didn’t want him to start in again about how much she needed his financial support
“So, how does it feel to be the ripe old age of thirty-five?” Allen asked her.
She half smiled. Her father always knew the worst thing to say to her. “Not a day over thirty-four.”
His laughter sounded choked. In the mirror above the entry table she caught sight of her wildly curling auburn hair which remained forever untamed even in this era of chic, straight cuts. Birthday blues had kept her from even bothering to even clip it back. Wouldn’t you know her father would show up? Some things were destined.
As Rawley dragged Benny back to the cement landing, Jenny held the door. Allen stepped quickly aside, avoiding Benny’s light-colored fur although some of it ended up on his pants. Allen’s snort of disgust made Jenny’s lips twitch. “Whose animal is that?” he demanded. “Not yours, I hope.”
“The neighbors’.”
“Mom …?” Rawley said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Go.” She waved him away with a smile. “And take Benny with you.” He was out the door like a shot. Benny’s disappearing barks and Rawley’s noisy footsteps said they were fast on their way.
“That’s all he says to his grandfather?” Allen demanded.
“You’re lucky he wasn’t in one of his silent moods,” Jenny said, instantly defending her son. Rawley might drive her to distraction, but she did not need her father telling her how to raise him.
Allen let that one go by. “I brought you a gift,” he said, pulling an envelope from his inside pocket and handing it to her with a flourish. Reluctantly Jenny accepted it. She didn’t want to open it. She knew what it was. Money. Another bribe to get her to come back into the family business. “Aren’t you going to open it?” he demanded, settling himself gingerly on her couch, alert for more dog hair.
She sat down opposite him in a painted rocking chair that tended to squeak. She wasn’t poor, but she’d been saving her money for years and years and some things just weren’t as important as others. “I’m getting my inheritance from Mom,” she said, the envelope heavy in her hand.
“I know. I just wanted you to have enough.”
“Enough?”
“I know you’re opening a restaurant in Santa Fe,” he admitted.
Jenny felt the noose slip over her neck. This was how it started with her father. Carefully she opened the envelope. Glancing at all the zeroes at the end of that check, she folded it up and held it out to him. He, however, refused to reach for it.
“I appreciate it, but I can’t accept it”
“Geneva …”
“No.” She cut him off. “Obviously you’ve been keeping tabs on me.”
“Well, of course I have! You’re my daughter.”
“I’ll do fine with what Mom left me and what I’ve saved. Better than fine.”
“You need the money,” he argued. “Take it. And if you don’t put it in your business, save it for your son. It’s a birthday gift.”
It’s a bribe … She didn’t say it She wanted to, but she didn’t.
“I understand you’re naming the restaurant Geneva’s,” he said, ignoring her outstretched hand until Jenny had to drop it in her lap.
“After my grandmother, not myself.”
“I figured.” A small glimmer of a smile. “It’s not easy to make it in this business.”
“I’ve spent a lot of years being an apprentice,” she pointed out.
“Hmmm.” He didn’t argue. Why should he? He probably knew as much about Jenny’s expertise as she did herself. That was just the way Allen worked.
“Do you also know it’s southwestern cuisine?”
“Yes.” He got to his feet and walked stiffly around the room “And I think you’re foolhardy. You won’t work at Rancho del Sol to save your soul, but you’ll jump into your own restaurant with no knowledge of what it really takes to run this kind of business. And don’t tell me about all the years you’ve worked for that Italian. It’s not the same.”
“‘That Italian’ owns Riccardo’s and it’s one of the best restaurants in this city,” she answered in a steely voice. “‘That Italian’ has a name: Alberto Molini.”
He waved her fury away. “You won’t listen to me no matter what.”
“Not when I know you’re wrong.”
“Tsk, tsk.” He shook his head at her, his facade cracking. He hated being thwarted. Hated it.
“I’m not going to take this check. Thank you.” She set the folded-up piece of paper on the coffee table.
“Fine. I’ll deposit the amount in Rawley’s stock portfolio.”
“Rawley doesn’t have a stock portfolio.”
Another tight smile. “Yes, he does.”
Jenny was thoroughly annoyed. This high-handedness was typical of him. “How much is in that account?” she demanded.
“Enough to cover his mistakes.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Now she was furious.
He spread his hands. “It cost a lot to get you out of that Troy Russell fiasco.”
Jenny felt like she’d been slapped. Her father hadn’t ever thrown that in her face. He’d been as relieved as she was when it was over.
As if realizing he’d crossed the line, Allen inclined his head. “I’m just trying to prevent him from making similar mistakes. I should have set up your own account and let you have some financial freedom. Maybe then you wouldn’t have jumped into marriage so soon.”
“Money wasn’t the reason I married Troy!” Jenny looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “My family had the money. You had the money. That’s why he married me!”
“Still … I want Rawley to be safe.”
“What are you talking about?” Something about his tone made gooseflesh rise on her arms.
Allen seemed momentarily at a loss. He took a deep breath. “Your birthday isn’t the only reason I stopped by today.”
“No?” Jenny braced herself. Now they were getting to it. And she could already tell she wasn’t going to like it.
“Sometimes things happen and there is nothing to do but act,” he said cryptically, running a palm down the back of his silvered hair. “I know you’re planning a trip to Puerto Vallarta with friends before you leave for Santa Fe. Is Rawley going with you?”
“Yes.” She tensed. Waiting.
But he seemed to relax a little. “Good. Good.” He rubbed his hands together and nodded.
“I just wanted to get that clear.”
“No. It’s something else. If you’re not here to badger me about coming to work for you, then you’ve got some other purpose. Frankly, you’re scaring me.”
Allen stared at her, or more accurately, through her. It was as if his vision were transfixed on some otherworldly object and whatever he saw was decidedly unpleasant.
Uneasiness feathered across Jenny’s skin. Her heart beat in a deep, painful cadence. Troy, she thought as her father said grimly, “Your ex-husband contacted me.”
Jenny felt the blood rush from her face.
“He came to the house to tell me he was sorry. He said he wanted to make up for all the trouble he caused.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said dully.
“It’s the truth.”
She shook her head. “I mean, I don’t believe this is happening. Troy doesn’t know how to feel remorse. He’s—he’s been living in California, right? What’s he doing here? What’s he really doing?”
“I don’t know.” His sober tone reflected how they both felt at the moment. “I don’t trust him at all. And I don’t want him trying to insinuate himself into your life again.”
“Neither do I.”
“You’re sure? You fell for his lies once before.”
“I’m a lot older and wiser.”
“But he’s clever. He fooled all of us once.”
“He won’t fool me again.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “I was going to suggest Rawley stay with me and Natalie.”
Oh, he’d love that, Jenny thought but wisely kept that to herself.
“I was worried Troy might try to contact him.”
Jenny’s heart leapt in fear. “He never has before!”
“He’s never turned up before, either. I bought that man off, Geneva. And now he has the gall to come laugh in our faces. If I could’ve, I would have had him arrested on the spot!”
Jenny darted a glance to the hall and her son’s closed door. “Rawley’s got a different view of Troy than we do.”
“That’s because he doesn’t know the man.” Allen harrumphed. “It’s just as well, since Russell’s a criminal.”
“He’s never been convicted of a crime, so he’s not a criminal,” Jenny reminded him.
“He’s a criminal,” Allen responded, his voice softening ever so slightly. For a moment he didn’t meet Jenny’s eyes, then he surprised her by coming to where she stood and reaching for her hand. “I’ll never forgive him.”
Jenny swallowed hard, refusing to give in to emotion one more time. It made her skin crawl to even consider seeing Troy again. She had never told the whole story of his physical and mental abuse, but her father had read between the lines. “I would really hate to face Troy again.”
“The bastard had the nerve to smile at me and stick out his hand, like we were old friends or something.” Allen’s jaw tightened. “I refused.”
Jenny had a momentary flashback. Troy had backhanded her twice, sending her reeling across the room. Both times it had been over nothing, and she’d been shocked by the power of what had seemed like an effortless hit on his part. She’d stayed away from people for several weeks, waiting for the bruises to fade. Why she hadn’t been able to tell she couldn’t really say. But it was true that she no more wanted to talk about those days now than she had during the worst of them.
She’d been so naive. But Troy had crushed all her girlish dreams of white knights and men of honor in the space of a few months. Her illusions had vanished as swiftly as the bonds of her marriage.
“What do you think he really wants?” she asked now, her voice sounding odd even to her own ears.
Allen’s jaw worked several times before he finally admitted tightly, “I don’t know.”
The second time Troy hit her she’d just learned about Rawley. She never told him about the pregnancy. And when her father came to her with another plea to leave Troy, she’d accepted gratefully. She’d never told Allen all the whys and wherefores, but her father was a man who knew things before they were even uttered.
“I’m not going to dwell on this while I’m in Puerto Vallarta,” Jenny said, thinking aloud. “And then I’m only here for a few more days before we leave for Santa Fe.”
“I never thought I’d be glad to have you moving out of Houston, but this time I am.” Her father looked at her. “Doesn’t mean I think you’ll make it in the restaurant business.”
“Heaven forbid.” Jenny lifted an ironic brow, earning her another one of her father’s rare smiles.
“Keep the money,” he said as he made to leave and Jenny reached for the folded-up check. “Please.”
Since she’d never heard him say “please” in all her life, Jenny froze in the act of picking it up.
“I’ve made arrangements to keep you safe,” he added.
“What do you mean?” Jenny asked warily.
He hesitated, then said, “I’ve got someone checking the bastard out. Seeing what he’s been into these last years. I want to know what’s in that man’s head.” Jenny inhaled and exhaled heavily. “So do I.”
“Happy birthday, honey,” he said again, a trifle gruffly.
“Thanks.” She almost added “Dad” but couldn’t quite get the endearment past her lips.
“If you need anything, call.”
“I will.”
“I’m there for you, you know.”
“Yes.”
She closed the door behind him and collapsed against it. He would be there for her, but her father’s love came with a price—she could never forget that. She glanced down at the check again. Making a face, she decided to take his advice and put the money in an account for Rawley. That way, she could make herself believe she hadn’t just somehow fallen under her father’s control again.
The sound of the front door creaking open brought her screeching from an afternoon doze to painful awareness. She leapt to her feet in time to see her son sheepishly tiptoeing into the room.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, blinking, her heart racing. “You scared me half to death.”
“Sorry. I was trying to …” He stopped short, unable to come up with any kind of explanation that made sense. “Is Grandpa gone?”
Grandpa … She shivered again, thinking things were fast slipping out of her control. “He left a while ago.”
“I didn’t really want to talk to him much.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hesitated, then mumbled under his breath, “Here,” and thrust a small package wrapped in red paper in front of her nose. The wrap job was pure fifteen-year-old boy—sloppy and haphazard. “Sorry I forgot.”
“It’s okay.”
“You never forget my birthday.”
“Well, that’s different. I’m your mom.”
She was touched beyond reason by her son’s thoughtfulness and yes, his guilt. It didn’t matter. She opened the box to discover a necklace with several pinkish imitation pearls clustered together. “Rawley, it’s beautiful!” she said.
“It’s not much.” His toe scuffed the floor.
“Yes, it is.” She clasped the chain around her neck and the pink pearls nestled in the hollow of her throat. “It’s the nicest gift I’ve ever had,” she said, truly touched and Rawley shot her a suspicious look from under his lashes.
“Oh, sure.”
“No,” she said with all sincerity. “It really is the nicest gift I’ve ever had. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
His embarrassment took over as she saw his face turn a shade of red. Mumbling something unintelligible, he headed for his room and soon the decibel level was reaching glass-shattering levels once again. This time Jenny didn’t object.
She touched the necklace and smiled. Checking the clock, she made a sound of annoyance, grabbed her purse and flew from the house. There were still things to do at the restaurant, and she didn’t want to delay any further.
Alberto was in the kitchen, scowling at one of the junior chefs when Jenny entered. “Bella!” he cried, hugging her enthusiastically. Jenny hugged him back, a little tighter than she normally would. Seeing her father only made her want to connect with Alberto even more … even though she was leaving.
In her office, she quickly ran through the list of bookkeeping problems she’d left for today, then sat back, feeling nostalgic at the squeak of the wooden chair. The mere thought of all she was leaving behind made her misty-eyed. Yet she knew she’d been here too long. But it had been a safe place to learn to think for herself—and understand those choices she’d made when she was young that had led her into her disastrous marriage.
Two hours later, she closed up her office, then stared down at the key in her hand. The new bookkeeper, a man, was scheduled to start in the morning.
“I think you’re going to need this,” she said to Alberto, extending the key with one hand as she slung her purse over her shoulder with the other.
“Oh, no. No.” He dolefully shook his head.
“I’m going to be away for a week, and when I get back, I’ll just be in to troubleshoot a little, in case you need it.”
He clasped his hands over his stomach and stared at the key. He was so forlorn that Jenny had to look away before emotion overcame her as well. Gently, she pressed the key in his palm and kissed him on the cheek. Then she hurried out before one of them burst into tears.
Outside the restaurant she took several deep breaths. Pressing the remote to her car, she heard the locks click open. She took three steps toward the driver’s door, and glanced around swiftly. It was as if she could actually feel someone’s stare. It was creepy. Totally creepy, as Rawley would say.
Inside the Volvo, she pushed the automatic locks, but even the click of all of them locking at once was not comforting. Her heart beat faster. Placing her hands on the steering wheel, she sat perfectly still, waiting for … something.
Several people walked out of Riccardo’s back door. One man stopped to light a cigarette. Jenny’s eyes glued to his silhouette, but as he walked down the back steps she realized he was a stranger. A car drove by on her right and turned into a parking spot. A young couple with a preschooler climbed out and headed into the restaurant, holding the child between them and swinging her up the steps.
Nothing. No lurking stranger.
Jenny started the engine and backed out of the lot. Her eyes kept darting to the rearview mirror on the drive back to her apartment; and because she was paranoid, she drove an extra mile and circled around through the neighborhoods before finally parking in her usual spot at the apartment. She ran up the steps and quickly let herself inside.
“Mom?”
She nearly jumped out of her skin. “Rawley!” she said in relief, half-laughing as she collapsed against the door.
“What’s wrong?” He was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking worried and oddly ill-at-ease.
“I just keep thinking someone’s following me. It’s ridiculous.”
Rawley nodded, but the frown didn’t leave his face. “I’m making popcorn,” he said by way of invitation.
“Great.” She moved to the couch, thoroughly annoyed with herself. Just the mention of Troy’s name had sent her nerves screaming into overdrive. There was no reason to panic Even if he approached her, she could handle it. He was a man, not a demon. A really sick, worthless twisted man with no heart, she reminded herself with an ironic smile. But then, no one’s perfect.
“What are you smiling about?” Rawley asked as he flopped down beside her and handed her the bowl of popcorn.
“Oh, I don’t know. Being silly and afraid for no reason. Having a birthday and a wonderful son.”
Rawley gave her a sidelong look that said he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.
Jenny leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Clearing his throat, he said, “I have a question for you, but maybe this isn’t really the right time.”
“Okay …” New warning bells sounded in her head.
“Do I have to go to Puerto Vallarta? There’s a soccer camp during spring break that I can go to with Brandon, and the Fergusons said I can stay with them. I really don’t want to go on the trip. We’re leaving Houston in a couple weeks and this is my last chance to see Brandon. Do you mind? I mean, really a lot? Could you go to Puerto Vallarta with your friends and leave me here? At the Fergusons, I mean?”
It came out in such a rush that Jenny couldn’t break in. Dropping her handful of popcorn back in the bowl, she fought back the rush of feelings that threatened to spill into words. Of course she minded. Of course it was a terrible idea! How could he give up this trip? Everyone was expecting him.
And Troy was out there, somewhere …
“Is this what you really want to do?”
He nodded anxiously, evidently afraid that she would say no. She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to.
“And it’s all right with Janice and Rick?”
“No problem. You can call ’em. I think they’re expecting you to.”
Sighing, Jenny reached for another handful of buttery popcorn. Damn the calories. She could eat a tubful of the stuff. “Looks like I’m going solo.”
He hugged her so hard and fast that she was still reeling when he jumped over the back of the couch and whooped with joy. Then he ran for the phone. “Brandon!” he yelled. “I can stay!”
And Jenny blinked rapidly and reached for another handful of popcorn.