Surrendered Page 3

  “I gotta take care of something,” I mumble, passing the spaghetti-filled plates to Jeanine.

  “Thought you were going to help, boss man,” Maris calls as I push through the door.

  One way or another, Tess is going back to school—even if I have to drag her there kicking and screaming.

  Chapter 4

  Tess

  My first cup of coffee soothes a little of the sting from Katie’s accusations before she stomped off to bed last night. Selfish. Uncaring. Hypocrite. What can I say? I have no defense—at least not one I’m willing to share.

  I pray my second cup will bring some much-needed clarity. While pouring it, I grimace at the collection of mail stacked in a basket by the phone. Higher and higher it grows as I continue to ignore it. It’s like that poem by Shel Silverstein I used to read to Katie when she forgot to empty the garbage—Sarah Cynthia Silvia Stout Would Not Take the Garbage Out. Only instead of being buried in refuse, I’ll be buried in bills and sympathy cards. Everyone will talk about that crazy Tess. She’s finally cracked. No wonder her dad brought in some stranger to take over everything. I jot mail down on my to-do list for the day before retrieving the milk from the fridge.

  As I’m doctoring my coffee, a pounding at the front door zings through me like a gunshot in the quiet and milk splashes onto the counter. I glance at the clock. It must be Julia. Where’d the last hour go? I’m already behind and the day’s just begun.

  “Come on in,” I shout, snapping a paper towel from the holder under the counter and wiping up my mess. Julia’s going to have to wait a few minutes while I get myself together. “Do you want some coffee?” Cup in hand I take a few careful steps into the dining room, eyes on the coffee flirting around the rim.

  “Sure.” The masculine voice jolts my heart. I freeze and the warm liquid sloshes onto my hand.

  It’s just Jake, looming in the doorway as if he has a right. For crying out loud. “What…what do you think you’re doing, just walking in like you already own the place?”

  “Didn’t you say to come in?” His lips twitch. The idiot’s laughing at me.

  What I wouldn’t give to wipe the amusement off his smug face. Criminy. I’m dressed in one of Dad’s hand-me-down sweatshirts, a pair of red flannel pajama bottoms, and fuzzy pink slippers—and I’ve got a flaming face to match. Not that I care what he thinks, but a girl has her pride. “I thought you were Julia.”

  “Nope. Sorry to disappoint.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” I try a haughty look down my nose. Kind of hard to do dressed like a cartoon character. “What do you want?” My tone would raise Dad’s eyebrows, but I don’t care. If he hadn’t put me in this position in the first place…

  The master bedroom, untouched since Dad died, is open to Jake’s view. I move to the door and ease it closed.

  “You blew me off last night when I tried to—”

  “You’re wasting your time. I have no intention of discussing my future plans with you.” I turn my back on him. He’s nothing more than a pesky fly—with a two-week life expectancy.

  “This is crazy, Tess.” His words have an edge. Good to know this isn’t just hard on me. “You can’t avoid me forever. This isn’t just going to go away, you know. You’re acting like a—”

  “A what?” I twirl to face him, more coffee sloshing over the edge. “Think very carefully before you finish that thought.” Why can’t he leave me in peace for a day at least? He’s like a leech, trying to suck the life blood from me.

  Movement at the door catches my attention when Julia steps through, Max in tow. “What’s going on here?” Eyes wide, she looks from me to Jake and back again.

  Julia’s perfect timing slows my heart rate. “He was just leaving.”

  Hands on hips, he shakes his head, that tell-tale muscle in his jaw flexing. “Maybe you can make her see reason,” he says to Julia, eyes flicking to Max. And if I’m not mistaken, they soften. “How you doing, Max?”

  Max mumbles something, and my irritation with Jake is forgotten. If Max isn’t in school, it means he’s sick again. “What’s wrong Mad Max?” I cross the room and move into Jake’s space, but the idiot doesn’t step back. “Aren’t you feeling well?” The concern in Julia’s eyes supersedes my discomfort with Jake, and I reach out a hand to push back Max’s blond curls and feel his forehead. No fever.

  He folds his arms across his middle. “My stomach hurts.”

  “We’ve got an appointment with the doctor this afternoon.” Julia pulls him against her side and drops a kiss on his head.

  Jake squats down in front of the boy, his knee bumping mine in the process, and I back away. “How long’s your stomach been hurting?”

  Max shrugs.

  “He was fine yesterday.”

  “Does he have any other symptoms?”

  What’s with him? Does he have to stick his nose in everyone’s business?

  “He says his tongue feels funny.”

  “Let’s see. Stick it out…”

  Max obeys, and Jake looks at it like he’s an expert on tongues or something. Does he think he’s a doctor now?

  “It’s just weird.”

  Jake, hands on knees for leverage, stands. “What’s that?”

  “This happens almost every time he stays at his dad’s house. I pick him up to take him to school and he’s sick.” She looks at me, eyebrows raised in question.

  I know what she’s not saying, because she told me last week she thinks he’s either faking it or it’s psychosomatic—my term, not hers.

  “Hey, Max,” Jake says. “You ever feel itchy anywhere?”

  Max yanks up his t-shirt to reveal an angry rash. “Right here.”

  Julia bends down and touches a gentle finger to Max’s belly. “I didn’t notice this before.”

  Jake slips his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and looks at Julia when she stands again. “How about a runny nose? Diarrhea?”

  A furrow forms between her brows. “Well, yeah. Last week he had a runny nose. I chalked it up to a cold.”

  “You ever give him peanut butter?”

  She shakes her head. “I use almond butter. And I know he doesn’t eat it at school. It’s not allowed.”

  “You ever have peanut butter at your dad’s house, Max?”

  “Sure. He lets me have peanut butter and jelly for breakfast. Why?”

  “What?” Julia cups Max’s chin and tilts his head back so they’re eye-to-eye. “Peanut butter and jelly for breakfast? Honestly, Max.”

  “I like it.” He steps out of Julia’s grasp.

  Jake’s right brow hitches up. “Sounds to me like he’s got a peanut allergy.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “It’s a common allergy. You said it yourself—peanuts aren’t allowed at the school.”

  I want to scoff at Jake’s deductive reasoning, but I can only imagine how grateful Julia is for the explanation. And though I wouldn’t admit it to him, if he’s right, I’m grateful too.

  “At least you can have Max’s doctor check it out,” Jake says, moving toward the door. “But if his symptoms get any worse, I wouldn’t wait until this afternoon.”

  “Good advice. Thanks, Jake.”

  “No problem.” He stops and looks at me, and for the first time since this ordeal with Dad began, I don’t want to smack him. “And by the way, Tess. Just so you know, I’ll be moving into the guest house this weekend.”

  And just like that, the itch to attack is back.

  * * *

  I wouldn’t give Jake the satisfaction of slamming the door on his retreating back, so instead, I close it with the dignity of Queen Elizabeth. “Can you believe that guy?” Hope he trips on the steep brick steps.

  So much for dignity.

  “Here, Max.” Julia drops a child-sized blue-and-yellow backpack onto the couch and pats the cushion next to it. “You have to read at least one chapter before playing Nintendo.”

  “I already read one last night.” Max plops o
nto the couch, digs through the pack, and pulls out a hand-held device.

  “After you read.”

  Cradling what must be his Nintendo, he ups the ante with a pathetic whine. “But I don’t feel good.”

  “Then take a nap.”

  “How ’bout I play twenty minutes of Nintendo, then read?”

  “If you feel good enough to play, you feel good enough to read. No arguments.”

  Julia links her arm in mine and drags me through the dining room and into the kitchen. “You were saying?”

  “Want some coffee?”

  “Cute outfit. Your new running attire? I bet that made an impression on Jake.” She retrieves a mug from the drying rack next to the sink and fills it from the half-filled carafe warming on the coffee maker.

  “What do I care what he thinks?” Still, I wish I’d been dressed to kill. Or at least dressed. “He’s a royal pain in the—”

  “Ah, ah, ah.” Julia waggles a finger at me. “There’s a pint-sized person in the next room.”

  I scowl at her. “Do you believe him? ‘I’ll move in this weekend,’” I mimic. “Ha!” I dump my cold coffee in the sink, snatch up the coffee carafe, and refill my own mug. It’ll be my third on an empty stomach, but so what? I don’t answer to anyone.

  “You could do worse.” Julia’s smile disappears behind her mug.

  “Are you kidding me?” She’s finally cracked under the pressure of being a single mom. “He’s a leech.”

  “Maybe. But he’s a cute leech.”

  “What?” Eww. “You’re all smitten now because he paid attention to Max?”

  She sets her cup on the counter and gives me a look I’ve seen her throw Max’s way a dozen times. The one that says get real.

  “He’s moving in, Jules.”

  “You already knew he would. So, what’s the big deal?”

  “You saw how he just butted into your business out there.” I motion toward the front door. “He’s got a lot of nerve.”

  “I’m glad he did. He gave me a plausible explanation for Max’s illness. It beats psychosomatic for a diagnosis.”

  Her smirk hits its target. So, I’m no Freud. “Then he can move in with you.”

  “Come on, Tess. You’re fighting a losing battle here.”

  “I’m not going back to school.” I sound like Max.

  “Like you have a choice.”

  “Geez, Jules. First Katie, now you.”

  “Come on, sweetie.” She takes my arm and walks me to the kitchen nook.

  Sinking into a chair, I wrap my hands around the warm cup and stare across the table and out the open window. The second-story view affords a glimpse of the far edge of the backyard. Flowers in full bloom, tufts of grass in desperate need of a trim. Late spring wafts through the window, daring me to be hopeful. “You don’t understand.”

  Julia sits next to me and leans in, elbows on the table. “Because you’ve never explained it to me. I get that you had to leave school to help with your mom, but that was years ago.”

  “I can’t go back.”

  “You can’t not go back. You keep fighting this and you’ll find yourself out on the street looking for work and a park bench to sleep on.”

  “I can move in with you.” But that’ll never do. Jules, Max, and me crammed into her sweet, tiny house. We’d kill each other inside a week.

  “You’d be better off on a park bench.”

  I drop my head into my hands and swallow a lump the size of Gibraltar. “Why is he doing this to me?”

  “Jake?”

  “Dad.” If he knew the real reason I left school, would he put me through this? “Katie’s not speaking to me. She thinks I’m being stubborn and selfish.”

  “If Jake inherits everything, how does that affect her?”

  The lump grows, and I can only shake my head.

  “The restaurant’s just a means to an end for you, Tess.” Julia’s voice softens. “But to Katie…”

  “It’s everything,” I choke out. There’s never been a doubt that Katie would one day own and operate Bella Cucina. It’s an extension of her family—a physical connection to Mom. And as hard as it would be to leave the old homestead…“But none of you understand.”

  Julia grabs my hand and squeezes. “Then explain it to us, Tess. We can’t understand what we don’t know.”

  Tears flood my eyes, blurring our joined hands. “Even if I go back, Jake stays in the guest house. How’s that fair?”

  “You really think you can go to school full-time, work at the restaurant, and still be here for Katie?”

  “She’s not a toddler. I don’t need Jake to ‘co-parent’ with me. You work full-time and still take care of Max.”

  “I have Steven.” She lowers her voice to a mumble. “For what that’s worth. I mean, really. The guy gives his kid peanut butter and jelly for breakfast. How ridiculous is that?”

  “Jake knows nothing about teenagers.”

  “How do you know?”

  “What?”

  Julia sits back in her chair. “How do you know Jake doesn’t know anything about teenagers?”

  Jake was pretty comfortable with Max. “Yeah. For all we know, he could have his own kid.”

  “Noooo.” She draws the word out as her eyes widen. “You think it’s possible?”

  “Maybe. Byron Reynolds ran a background check on him.”

  “And?”

  “I don’t know. He wouldn’t let me see it.” I tap my fingernails on the table. Jake could have a whole family, as far as I know. A wife, a couple kids. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. The best defense is a good offense.

  “Uh oh. I know that gleam in your eyes. What’re you thinking?”

  “Who needs Byron Reynolds? If he can hire an investigator, so can I.”

  “What would be the point?”

  “A semblance of control. I’d have to be out of my mind to let some guy I know nothing about into my home.”

  “If your dad found anything on him, don’t you think he’d have given him the boot?”

  “Guess it depends on what he was looking for. Besides, there’s more than one way to skin a cat.”

  * * *

  Jake

  A five-mile run doesn’t dislodge the image of Tess’s face when I announced I’m moving in this weekend. It doesn’t shake off Katie’s anger of last night, either. Didn’t take her long to shift the blame from Tess to me. And now I’m the bad guy. Taking her home, her business.

  Her life.

  Slowing my pace, I drag in a few cleansing breaths as I round the corner to my apartment house. Must be the sweat in my eyes, but the kid standing outside my door looks like…

  It is. Katie. Great. Just what I need—going another round when I’m still reeling from the last one. The two of them should take their tag-team act on the road.

  I turn to run like the chicken I am. Another mile’ll do me good.

  “Jake?” Katie’s shrill voice puts the skids on that idea.

  Using my tank top to wipe the sweat from my eyes, I face the lion in the den. Now I know how Daniel must have felt. Best to get it over with. I amble close enough for conversation. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

  “It’s after three.” She shifts a black backpack from one shoulder to the other.

  “Your dad ever teach you the inappropriateness of showing up at a man’s place unchaperoned?”

  She looks at me like I’m talking alien. “What, are you from the 1800s or something?”

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  That’s what I’m afraid of. “Tonight. I’ll meet you at the restaurant—”

  “No. Now.” She looks at me with puppy dog eyes. “Please.”

  God help the man who falls in love with her. Retrieving the key from my waistband pocket, I unlock the door. “Leave your pack inside. We’ll walk.”

  “It’s kind of warm out here. Is your place a pigsty or something?” She drops her bag j
ust inside the door.

  Did Sean teach this kid nothing? “You have no business being alone with a man in his apartment.” I lock the door and slide the key back in my shorts.

  She snorts. “So, how’re you going to co-parent me if we need a chaperone?”

  “We’ll work it out.” I head back to the sidewalk and she follows. “Right now, I don’t want to give your sister any more fuel than necessary. And I’m serious. You shouldn’t show up at a man’s apartment alone. It could give him the wrong idea.”

  “You getting the wrong idea, Jake?”

  “It’s not a joking matter, Katie. There are a lot of creeps out there.”

  “You’re not just some creep. Dad obviously trusted you enough to have you live with us.”

  Should have grabbed a bottle of water first. It could be a long walk. “Is that what you want to talk about?”

  “Tess says she’s not going back to school.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “You don’t know Tess very well then.”

  I shake my head. “It seems I don’t know her at all.” We wait at a cross walk, sun in our eyes, while a few cars pass without a second glance. So much for a pedestrian’s right of way.

  “If she says she’s not going, then she’s not going.” She slow-jogs to keep up with me as we cross.

  “I wouldn’t give up quite so soon. She just might have met her match.”

  “But if she doesn’t go…what happens to me?”

  “I don’t want your restaurant, Katie. And I don’t want your home.”

  “But Dad’s will—”

  “I know what Sean’s will says. But if you think I’m trying to cheat you out of your birthright—”

  “So, if Tess doesn’t go back to school, you’ll just walk away?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Well, which is it? You either take it or walk away.”

  “I want what you want.”

  She smiles. “Phew. That’s good to know. Nothing changes.”

  “I didn’t say that, either.” A block of fast-food restaurants is up ahead with half of Katie’s class crowding the parking lots. God knows how the next generation’s going to survive on high-fat, processed food. I take a left. Three blocks down and another left and we’ll be back at my place. That’s where this conversation ends.