Part 11 (1/2)
”But whose mother are you? Don't slip so easily into the role of being that kid's mother.”
”I used to be.”
”But you're not, anymore.”
”Really?” Jill's chest tightened. ”What's a mother, or a stepmother? What's a family? Isn't it forever? The love doesn't stop when the legal relations.h.i.+p does.”
”No, but the obligation does. The responsibility does.”
Jill tried a different tack. ”Okay, think about it this way. Your son Steven is going to be my stepson, after we get married. I love him, and he's a great young man. Let's imagine that, G.o.d forbid, something happens to you, and I remarry, and your son Steven gets into trouble. Medical, legal, whatever. Do I turn my back on him because my new husband says so?”
”Steven's thirty years old, busy as h.e.l.l, down in Texas. He doesn't need us anymore, he barely even visits.”
”But he could need us, or me.”
”Then you can't be there for him, not forever and ever.”
”Love isn't finite, Sam.”
”No, but time is. Money is. Resources are. Energy is.”
”I know, but is that the world you want to live in?” Jill thought he was missing the point. ”Wouldn't you want me to take care of Steven?”
”No, I still come down the same way.” Sam's lips flattened to a firm line. ”I'd understand it if your husband felt the way I do, which is that I didn't sign on for this. I love you and I love Megan, but I don't love your troubled ex-stepdaughter, and I don't want another kid. I'm getting out of the kid business.”
Jill felt her heart sink, listening to him and seeing his adamancy. She could tell the way it was going, and it wasn't good. If she wanted her family with Abby in it, then she'd have to fight for it. And the person she'd have to fight was Sam.
”I'm older than you, and I see the light at the end of the tunnel. Steven's gone, and Megan's on her way. She'll be in college before you know it.” Sam leaned over, urgently. ”I'm looking forward to you and me, being alone together. No more blow dryers or swim meets.”
”I think exactly the opposite.” Jill felt heartsick. ”I'll be sad when Megan leaves. I'm sad that she's already growing up, so fast. I never want to be out of the kid business.”
”We'll be fine, you'll see. You'll love it.”
”You never talked this way before,” Jill said, hurt.
”I never had to.”
”Are you unhappy?”
”No, I'm happy, and I'm trying to stay that way. We were fine before Abby entered the picture, just last night. We were great.” Sam smiled and tried to touch her arm, but Jill found herself backing away, wis.h.i.+ng she had a sounding board.
”You know what, I'm not that tired, so maybe I'll drop by Katie's and see if she still needs me.”
”Really, babe?” Sam looked disappointed, puckering his lower lip.
”Well, she is cooking.”
”Fair enough.” Sam managed a smile. ”She could burn down the neighborhood.”
”Right.” Jill picked up her handbag, gave Sam a dry kiss on the cheek, and left the kitchen. ”I should be back in an hour, or so.”
”Okay, drive safe,” Sam called after her.
”Love you.” Jill called back, and it wasn't until she reached the front door that she realized she hadn't told Sam about the pharmacy or the padiddle.
But he wasn't exactly a willing ear.
Chapter Fifteen.
”Sorry I missed your call.” Jill followed Katie into her kitchen, which was in disarray. Flour dusted the butcherblock counter, and grated potatoes made a lopsided snowdrift on a plate, next to a lineup of cracked eggsh.e.l.ls, chopped onion, and a Pyrex bowl of batter. The air smelled like something good was cooking. ”Yum. What's going on here?”
”Paul took the boys out to dinner, then the bookstore.” Katie hurried back to the stove, her blonde ponytail swinging. Like Jill, she had on a light cotton sweater, capris, and clogs, the uniform of suburban moms. Katie picked up the spatula. ”I was having an I'm-gonna-kill-my-kid moment.”
”Why?” Jill asked, though she knew Katie was kidding. They'd been best friends since Penn State, and Katie had gone on to become a teacher, then an at-home mother of three sons, all under twelve years old. She always said humor and a cattle prod were her only weapons.
”Monday is International Day at school, and Robbie tells me this an hour ago, when we're gone all day tomorrow.” Katie rolled her large, cornflower blue eyes. She was wholesomely pretty, with no makeup, an easy smile, and a turned-up nose under a sprinkling of soft freckles. ”We're moving my mother-in-law to a retirement village. With her, it'll take a village.”
”Yikes.” Jill set down her purse and came over to the stove. The big Viking oven gave off a homey warmth, and she started to relax, after the talk with Sam. She felt lucky to have a friend like Katie and she could only imagine how Katie would react when she found out about William's death.
”You want soda or coffee? Or a margarita? Feel free.”
”No, thanks. So what are you making? It smells great.”
”Irish potato pancakes.”
”Ambitious.”
”Insane.” Katie flipped the pancake. ”He has to bring in a typical food that represents his family, and you have to make it, so no Entenmann's.”
”Uh-oh.”
”Am I screwed or what? Can I just say that not all moms can cook? And what kind of time do they think we have? Should I thatch the roof next? Jeez! You know, the joke is, I a.s.signed all this c.r.a.p when I taught, too. Payback's a b.i.t.c.h.”
Jill smiled. ”How can I help?”
”Just keep me company. It's good to see you. I called you to get an old family recipe of yours, for anything, but then I found this old family recipe on the Internet.”
”How many do you have to make?”
”Too d.a.m.n many.” Katie flipped the third pancake. ”There are twenty-three kids in the cla.s.s, and I figure some kids will eat two, so that's thirty-three. Plus I have to suck up to the teacher, the aides, and the secretaries in the office, so that makes fifty. I bribe everybody. Elementary school is a banana republic, without the limos.”
Jill smiled. ”It's nice to include the office. I always did. n.o.body makes them anything. They'll never forget it.”
”I know. Great minds, right?”
”Here, let me help.”