Jacob's Ladder: Gabe (Jacob's Ladder #1)

Thankfully, I found the downstairs bath empty. I knew I wasn’t going to feel human again until I washed the alcohol stank off of me. Stepping under the scalding steam of water, I sighed. I had no idea what I was going to do about Gabe.

Even after the pep talk from Kennedy and Ellie, I still couldn’t imagine facing him again after freaking out like I had. Surely, he had to have been completely turned off from me since I’d left him with both physical and emotional blue balls. He was Gabe Renard, for fuck’s sake. He had women throwing themselves at him, and he certainly didn’t need to waste his time with a head case like me.

Once I’d showered and gotten my makeup on, I headed back across the hallway to my bedroom. Instead of going to the closet to find something to wear, I made a beeline for the bed—specifically for my phone, which I’d tossed onto the bed. My heart plummeted when I still didn’t have a response from Gabe.

Trying to talk myself out of the abyss, I said, “He’s probably still asleep. He told you himself he’s normally not a morning person.”

Yeah, that was my story, and I was sticking to it. Pushing Gabe from my mind, I went about the rest of my morning ritual, including prying Linc from bed and downing a scorching cup of espresso.

Once Linc was finished with the scrambled eggs and bacon Kennedy had made for him, I asked, “Come on and get your things. Since we’re running late, I’m going to let Papa know I’m dropping you off at school on the way to work.”

“Okay Mom.”

I stopped him in the doorway. “Do you have all your homework?”

“Yep.”

“Your lunch money?”

“Yesss.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it—your mother is sooo lame for trying to make sure you have your shit together.”

Linc laughed. “Yep, pretty much.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Then let’s go.” I’d started out the door when Linc grabbed my arm.

“Wait—what about my brownies?”

Ugh. Time to come clean. I’d gotten a small reprieve the previous night when Linc had fallen asleep on the way home, and I’d steered his drowsy ass to bed without any explanation of the brownies. Thanks to Kennedy and Ellie cleaning up for me, there wasn’t any physical evidence either.

“You know, it’s a funny thing about the brownies.” Yes, ladies and gentleman, I was about to tell a complete lie to my child. “When I went to Blair’s to get the mix, they were completely out.”

“They were?” Linc questioned, his brow wrinkling. I could almost see the bullshit meter inside his head going off.

“Yep, and when I tried to make them from scratch, it turned into a big mess.”

“Is that why the kitchen smelled so bad last night?”

My eyes bulged. “I thought you were too sleepy to notice.”

“It reeked of something burnt.”

“Sadly, that would have been the brownies.”

“Oh,” he replied. My heart plummeted at the same rate as his face.

“But don’t worry, Aunt Kennedy is whipping up something extra super-duper special for me to bring for the bake sale.”

“It won’t be your brownies.”

Forcing a smile to my face, I countered, “I’m sure it’ll be ten times better than my brownies. Aunt K graduated from Le Cordon Bleu cooking school while your ol’ mom here can barely make macaroni and cheese out of the box.”

When Linc didn’t reply, it felt like a knife twisting into my heart. I wasn’t sure why mommy guilt had to be so damn painful. More than anything, I wanted him to yell at me, to throw his book bag while hurling an obscenity or two, but no, he remained quiet.

Feeling like an utter and complete asshole, I motioned for him to go on out the door. “Let’s get you to school, sweetheart.”

He nodded and then did a pitiful little trudge out the door. When I glanced back at Kennedy and Ellie, they both had downcast faces. “I promise I’ll bring the best damn brownies I can make,” Kennedy said.

“Thanks,” I muttered before doing my own version of Linc’s pitiful trudge. We made the drive to Hayesville Elementary in complete silence. I kept imagining this would be the day Linc told his therapist about, the one when he lost all faith in his mother, or maybe it would be the story he told his substance abuse counselor after my negligence sent him down a path of drug and alcohol abuse.

Instead of pulling into the carpool line, I eased into one of the parking spaces. While I could have called to inform the school about my utter fuck-up, I decided it would be better to tell them in person, not to mention the fact that I didn’t want Linc walking into school empty-handed.

Of course, I should have remembered that at his age, my very existence was a complete embarrassment to him. He reminded me of that fact the moment I started following him into the building. “Seriously, Mom?” he hissed, his horrified gaze bouncing from side to side to check if anyone had seen.

I held up my hands. “My bad. You go on in.” As he hurried away from me, I called, “Have a great day!”

I’m pretty sure he cursed me under his breath, but I decided to ignore it. Drawing in a deep breath, I walked inside the front lobby. I spoke to several of the parents I knew, many of which I’d gone to school with myself. It was pretty rare for anyone new to move into Hayesville.

When I got to the cafeteria, it was buzzing not only with the many kids who ate breakfast at school, but also with the moms setting up for the bake sale. Craning my neck, I searched the room for Pricilla Parton, the president of the PTA. I finally found her at one of the tables in the far corner of the room.

“Morning, Cilla,” I said.

She whirled around, iPad in hand. At the sight of me, her eyes widened before a beaming smile lit up her face. “Well, hello, Rae.”

“Listen, I have some bad news about the turtle brownies I was supposed to bring—”

Pricilla’s auburn brow creased in confusion. “Turtle brownies? But you brought all that fabulous cannoli?”

I blinked a few times at her. “I’m sorry…what?”

“When we arrived this morning, we found five pans full of homemade cannoli. It had yours and Linc’s names on it.”

An awkward laugh bubbled from my lips. “Come on, Cilla, you’ve known me since our kids started school here together—would I even remotely know where to begin to make one cannoli, least of all five pans?”

Shrugging, Pricilla replied, “I just assumed Kennedy made them.”

“No, she didn’t. She’s back at her shop right now trying to whip up some kind of replacement brownies.”

“Then who sent all the cannoli in your name?” Pricilla questioned.

I sucked in a breath so fast I wheezed like a deflated balloon. “Oh my God,” I hissed as it hit me just exactly who had saved my ass. I whirled around and searched the room for him. When I didn’t see Gabe, I remembered what Pricilla had said about them finding the cannoli when they arrived. Gabe wouldn’t have wanted to be seen at the school for all the craziness it might cause. Oh God. I had to see him—like, immediately.

Slowly, I started backing up from her. “Um, I’ve got to go.”