A Million Little Things (Mischief Bay, #3)

“You couldn’t be more wrong. Steven has no idea what he’s doing.”

“He’s a grown man. Leave him alone. I have to say, I’m totally shocked by what you’re saying.”

“I’m protecting my family.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?” Jen shook her head. “You always taught us to think about other people. To imagine what they were going through and to act out of compassion. I guess that was all a load of crap.”

Pam shifted in her seat. “This is different.”

“It’s not. It’s exactly the same. Zoe’s my friend, Mom. Whatever happens, I’m going to be there for her. If you don’t like that, I’m sorry. You couldn’t be more wrong about this. About all of it.” She rose. “You need to be careful. Because if you push Steven too hard, you risk losing him. I mean it, Mom. This is bad.”

Pam felt herself flush. She didn’t like being talked down to by anyone. She wasn’t wrong. She knew exactly what she was doing and saying.

“Steven needs someone to get him to see sense,” she said as she stood.

“Is that your plan?” Jen asked, putting her hands on her hips. “Before you try and possibly ruin your relationship with your son, let me remind you that the only reason he would consider taking on Zoe and the baby is because of what you and Dad taught us. You always said we were to see the best in people and give them a chance. I guess that’s more crap, right?”

Lulu trotted into the sunroom. Jen scooped her up and held her. “It’s been a hell of a week, Mom. There’s stuff going on here that—” She kissed Lulu, then handed her over. “Never mind. I don’t want to know what you think about anything. You’re wrong about Zoe and you’re wrong about Steven. But you’re going to have to figure that out for yourself.”

Pam took her dog and started for the front door. “I can’t believe you’re taking her side in this.”

“That makes two of us who are shocked right now.”

Pam got into her SUV and put her hands on the wheel. She was shaking and felt a little sick to her stomach. What was wrong with Jen? Why couldn’t she see the impending disaster? Was everyone blind but her?

She paused and glanced upward, once again missing her husband. If John were here, he would know what to say. He would get through to Steven and convince him no woman was worth years of unhappiness. John would tell him—

For a second Pam had the thought that John might very well be telling her something very close to what Jen had said. That she needed to back off. That no matter how she tried, she couldn’t protect her children from everything and that they had to be free to live their lives. Even if that meant walking into what was—at least to her—a disaster waiting to happen.

“No,” Pam said aloud. “I won’t. If Steven refuses to see the obvious, I have to show him why he’s wrong.”

Whatever it cost to keep him safe, the price would be worth it.

*

Jen stretched out on the grass in her backyard. The day was sunny, the air warm, the sky blue. She told herself to revel in that. To enjoy the moment, to be one with nature.

Which was all a bunch of nonsense. She was furious. There wasn’t a cell in her body that wasn’t vibrating with rage and the worst part was she had absolutely nowhere to put the anger. She couldn’t be pissed at her son. Jack was a toddler and doing his toddler thing. Kirk was only the messenger. What had happened wasn’t his fault either. She’d tried to tell him that, but they’d both known she wasn’t happy. Her great dreams of seduction had burned up in a fire of resentment. All these days later she was still dealing with too much emotion and a lot of self-loathing.

Jack knelt next to her, moving his truck over the recently mowed grass. Next to him was the ridiculous guitar that he loved. Lucas dozed in the sunroom. Zoe sat next to her on the grass, her gaze fixed on the video Jen had showed her.

“I don’t know what to say,” her friend admitted. “You must be relieved.” The words were more question than statement.

“You can say it,” Jen told her. “We’re all thinking it.”

“No.”

“Yes. It’s my fault. I’m so attentive that he doesn’t need to talk around me. I went online and read about the phenomenon. Usually it happens between siblings who are close in age. The older sibling can read what the younger one wants and takes care of things. So the baby doesn’t have to talk. I’ve done that with Jack.” She sat up and covered her face with her hands. “I’m a helicopter mom.”

“You’re not.”

“Pretty close. I hover. I anticipate. I worry. I’m the reason Jack won’t talk.”

“But he does talk.”

“Not to me.”

Jen had tried all weekend. She’d withheld toys a second or two, hoping to get Jack to ask for them. There hadn’t been a single word. She’d left him with Lucas for a couple of hours and Lucas’s guilty expression upon her return had told her that the boy had chatted up a storm.

“I’m a failure.”

Zoe hugged her. “You’re a wonderful mom and he’s lucky to have you. You take really good care of him.”

“I’m smothering him. Learn from my mistakes. I mean that. I’m a disaster.”

So much for meditating and drinking water, she thought grimly. Those practices might be helping her, but they weren’t doing anything for her son.

She lowered her voice. “I really hate this. I have so much negative energy and I can’t find a place for it. I’m terrified I’m going to snap or something.”

Zoe shook her head. “You’re going to be okay. Now that you understand what’s going on, you can relax about Jack. Then you can start to relax about everything else. The big picture issue is solved. Can you hang on to that?”

Jen nodded even though she was lying. The truth of what had gone wrong circled in her head like a hamster on a wheel. She couldn’t escape it. But that didn’t mean everyone else wanted to talk about her problems. She shifted so she was sitting cross-legged.