âCan we meet on Friday?â
Grant asked, as he pulled a business card out of his pocket and jotted down his number. âSame time as today and same place.â
âHow about one oâclock? Why donât I bring an extra sandwich for you?â Rebecca was beginning to warm to the idea of seeing him again.
âNo. Let me bring the food. My daughterâ so sure I canât even boil water, I need to prove Iâm not a total kitchen klutz.â
Rebeccaâs laughter welled up from deep inside and brought colour to her cheeks. âAll right, but youâve got to promise weâll come up with some kind of plan for the kids. Otherwise I canât justify meeting you for lunch.â
That dampened his spirits a bit. âI promise,â he murmured. âBetween now and Friday, Iâll figure out how to make peace with Ryan. I should be able to relate to him better.â
âI hope so. Our kids are the whole reason for us to see each other. Bye, Grant.â She hurried into the salon where she worked.
As he called out a final goodbye and headed for his car, Grant thought he should have corrected Rebeccaâs impression. Their kids werenât why he wanted to see her again.
REBECCA GEROUX barely made it to the kitchen with her three heavy bags of groceries before one ripped open. Oranges spilled across the counter. Two bounced off and hit the floor. âLisa!â Rebecca called for her sixteen-year-old-daughter, hoping for some help.
Getting no answer, Rebecca tried her son. âJordan! Hey, one of you kids had better get in here, or I wonât have time to fix supper before I need to leave.â From the silence that ensued, she knew Jordan hadnât heard. That wasnât surprisingâheâd had his nose in a book and music blaring from his new iPod as she passed him on the couch. Rebecca didnât see the appeal of an iPod, but all kids lately seemed to need one. And Jordan had done odd jobs to earn the money for his. Rebecca just hoped the book in his hand was homework.
Gathering up the errant oranges, she dumped them in a fridge drawer. Thank goodness I can multitask, she thought as she stacked canned vegetables on an upper pantry shelf while she filled a large pot with water to boil for spaghetti. Finding a jar of commercial tomato sauce tucked behind the beans, she wrenched it open and poured it into a smaller pan.
Being a single mom whoâd worked two jobs for what seemed like forever, Rebecca had long since stopped beating herself up over using shortcuts. She did whatever it took to keep a roof over her familyâs heads and food on the table. Not to mention clothes on the body of a teenage boy who grew an inch a month.
It was lucky Lisa waited tables a couple of afternoons a week and the occasional weekend. She babysat, too, for Darcy Blackburn, one of Rebeccaâs co-workers at the restaurant. It wasnât easy, but every penny helped build the college fund Lisa and Rebecca contributed to every week. Lisa was going places. With her straight Aâs and work ethic, she was never going to be stuck working two jobs.
âLisa!â Rebecca yelled again. âCome take over the dinner. Iâve got to change before I leave for the Tumbleweed. At the salon today, I dribbled a big splotch of red hair dye down my blouse. I canât serve customers like this.â
The side door crashed open, catching Rebecca so off guard she dropped the loaf of French bread sheâd just buttered and wrapped in foil.
âFor heavenâs sake, Lisa Louise, you scared the living daylights out of me. I thought you were in your room doing homework. Where have you been?â
The pretty blond girl shed her backpack. âSorry, Mom. I told Jordan to let you know I was taking the late bus home today.â Lisa washed her hands at the sink, then leaned over the stove to peer into the pots. âSpaghetti again?â She wrinkled her nose. âDid you read the article I brought home from health class? Eating all these starchy foods is so fattening.â
Rebecca smoothed a hand down her worn black slacks. âThen itâs a good thing this family burns calories off with hard work.â Handing Lisa a wooden fork, she added dryly, âIf you feel the need for extra exercise, you can dance while you stir. Just keep the noodles from sticking. Oh, and donât put anything down the garbage disposal. It quit again. There goes another hundred bucks.â Rebecca heaved a sigh.
Reaching back into the pantry, she made room for several giant cereal boxes. âSoâ¦why did you take the late bus home?â
âWe got a new student. Mom, he is totally hot. Ryan Lane. Heâs a senior. Actually, heâs been in town a few weeks, but couldnât start class until the records from his previous school arrived. Heâs in my honors English and honors chemistry classes. Mr. Reavis made Ryan my chemistry partner. Ever since Ginny Parkerâs dad got transferred to an airbase in Maryland Iâve been the only one doing experiments alone.â