Acting Up (31 page)

As intended, both women glanced at Jason and Carson with identical expressions of pity and sadness. “Of course not,” Franny said.

Addison flashed one more smile before the women turned away and tended to their still fighting sons.

“What did you do?” Elizabeth asked, staring after them in confusion. “Cast a spell?”

“No spell. Psychology,” Addison said. “First, I let them know I'm terrible at bowling and will most likely make a fool of myself. Then I reminded them I'm doing it for two poor, motherless boys.”

Confusion turned to awe. “Wow, let them feel superior and awful for being jealous of you at the same time. Masterful.”

“I felt a little guilty using the twins' situation, but it is the truth,” Addison said. “I'm doing this for them.”

“Your talents are wasted on acting. You should be a peace negotiator.”

Addison wrinkled her nose. “Boring wardrobe.”

As predicted, Addison made a fool of herself the first time up. She remembered the basic premise of the game. Stick your fingers in the little holes. A few steps forward. Swing back. Release. Hit pins.

Only her shot went more like… stick fingers in the little holes. Step forward. Which foot do I start on again? Three steps forward. Trip over feet. Swing back. Then forward. Drop ball. Wince at humongous thud. Watch ball roll into the gutter. Her second try wasn't much better, though at least she didn't trip.

“Graceful,” Aaron said as she returned to her seat.

Addison resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him. “Wait till it's your turn.”

As luck would have it, Aaron was up next. He walked to the line and with barely a pause, he swung back, stepped forward, and launched the bowling ball down the lane. Like a heat-seeking missile, it crashed into the pins, sending them flying in all directions. When the carnage was over, only one pin was left.

“How did you do that?” Addison demanded as the rest of their team cheered.

“Watching people.”

Addison stewed over the blatant unfairness while Jason and Carson took their turns. Their bowling balls each took about ten minutes to reach the pins, but didn't go into the gutter. Jan and her son were on their team and she at least proved to be their ace in the hole. The woman was a strike machine. By the fifth frame, she'd left everyone on both teams in her dust.

Meanwhile, Addison remained stuck in last place. Way last place. Even the twins managed to hit more pins. Around frame three, Addison decided she didn't care. She would endure anything if it meant watching the boys smiling and laughing. At one point, Jason even managed to knock down eight pins. He did a little butt-wiggling happy dance all the way back to the seat. Then he launched himself at her. Addison managed to catch him. Barely.

“Did you see? Did you see?” he cried.

“I did. I did,” she said, planting a smooch on his forehead. “You were awesome.”

Jason tackled his brother next, and the boys crashed into the plastic seats. “Hey, watch it,” Addison called out. “I'm way too small to carry you out of here if you crack your heads open.”

Meanwhile Jan watched with a somber expression. Addison gave her most non-threatening smile, but the other woman didn't return the gesture. Whatever. She was so over trying impress these people. In any case, it was time for her to find the gutter again. With a sigh of resignation, Addison approached her mark.

“You're turning your wrist,” Jan said.

Startled, Addison spun around. “I'm sorry?”

“Concentrate on keeping your wrist straight,” Jan said. “And use the arrows on the floor as your guide, not the pins.”

A bubble of happiness welled up as Addison realized a truce had been declared, and she'd been accepted. “Thank you.”

Jan nodded, and a glimmer of a smile broke out on her face.

Addison took up her stance again. Wrist straight. Arrow on the floor. Five pins down.

She screamed. Her teammates went wild. The twins were jumping up and down, and Aaron clapped. Best of all, Jan grinned from ear to ear. Addison sank into a deep bow.

Her next shot knocked down two more pins. As she walked back, Jason and Carson almost knocked her down in their eagerness to hug her. She rained kisses all over their faces, while they squealed and squirmed to get away.

“Can we get a soda?” Jason asked, once they'd calmed down. “Dad said we could have one each. He even gave us money.”

Addison reached into her pocket and pulled out cash. “You hold on to that. Get me a diet soda, and some of those French fries. Get enough for all of us.” She turned to her stepson. “Oh, and Aaron—”

“I know, go with them.”

“Go with them so you can get something for yourself,” she said, quirking a brow.

Aaron's smile spread. “Cool.”

As the boys raced off, Addison couldn't help chuckling. She turned to take her seat and noticed all the women were staring now.

“What?” she asked.

They all smiled.

“
What?”

Franny cleared her throat. “It's just nice to see them so happy.”

“Oh…”

The simple observation overwhelmed her. It had been so long since she'd had the power to make
anyone
happy. Addison almost didn't know what to do with the emotions.

Elizabeth walked over and gave her a hug. There were tears swimming in her eyes when she pulled away. “It's very nice.”

“Mommy, why is everybody crying?” Jan's son, Chris, asked.

“Because we're happy.”

An adults-are-crazy expression flashed across his face. “Huh?”

Fighting back a fresh onslaught of weepiness, Addison chuckled. “Never mind, Chris. Isn't it someone's turn?”

“Yeah, mine!” he shouted.

They all laughed and the charged moment passed. Pretty soon, the boys returned with sustenance. The rest of the game passed in a blur of crashing pins, good-natured jabs at failures, and hearty cheers for successes. Addison would never be a champion bowler, but she managed to stay out of the gutter the rest of the night. After the first game, Aaron found a group of older kids from school and begged off to play video games.

At the end of the night, Addison volunteered to drive Jason and Carson home. Aaron wanted to stay longer, and after making sure one of the other mothers would drive him home later, she agreed. The drive to Ethan's didn't take long. Within a few minutes she pulled up to the most charming two-story, Victorian house she'd ever seen. Like some sort of life-sized dollhouse. A wrap-around porch was embellished with gingerbread trim. Tall picture windows marched along the outside on both floors. A gabled roof with more gingerbread trim finished off the enchanting picture.

The front door opened, and Ethan stepped onto the porch.

“Dad! Dad! I knocked down eight pins at once!” Carson cried.

“I dropped seven!” Jason seconded.

“Nice work, guys,” Ethan said, ruffling their hair. “Did you have a nice time with Addison?”

“She tripped and almost went splat,” Carson announced.

Jason followed up with a demonstration.

“Hey, I thought we were going to keep that to ourselves,” Addison said.

The twins covered their mouths, which didn't disguise their giggles.

Jason grabbed her hand. “Come up and see our room!”

Carson took her other hand, and they dragged her up the stairs. Their room was a typical boys' sanctuary. Twin beds with matching super hero comforters were on opposite walls. Long shelves, holding books and toys, sat under the window. The closet was an explosion of clothes and more toys and games, which told her Aaron came by his propensity for messiness naturally. It must be coded in the male DNA.

The boys proceeded to introduce her to some of their favorite toys. Action figures, super heroes, miniature cars, and various rocks and handheld video games were among the treasures. Jason handed her the greatest treasure of all. A framed picture of a young, blond woman holding two tow-headed boys.

The shot must have been taken some time ago, as the boys were still in their toddler years. A shimmering lake was in the background, but the sun on the surface of the water had nothing on the woman's bright smile. Jenny Thomas was luminous. Almost glowing in her happiness.

Addison sank down onto the bottom bunk. “Your mom?”

The twins snuggled on either side of her. “She was the prettiest mommy ever,” Jason said with a soft sigh.

Addison put an arm around his slim shoulder. “She was.”

“Sometimes I start to forget her,” Carson said. “Then I look real hard at the picture.”

Something twisted inside her and as if by magic, the dark knot of envy twisting around Addison's heart disappeared. What did it matter if the woman had a shrine? Jenny Thomas had brought these two wonderful boys into the world and taught them a mother's love. A gift that deserved a statue.
Ten
statues.

“You'll never forget her,” Addison said. “She's in your heart.”

“She smelled like apples,” Jason said. “When Gamma makes an apple pie, it's almost like Mommy's there, too.”

“You know, I bet she is.”

Both boys gazed at her, faces shining with hope. “Ya think so?” they asked in unison.

Addison nodded.

“Cool,”
they chorused.

“Boys, it's time for bed,” Ethan said from the doorway. “Go start your baths.”

The twins' faces screwed up. “Aw, Dad!”

Ethan arched a brow and their protests died away. As they scrambled off the bed, Jason took the picture and put it back on the desk.

“Did you thank Addison for taking you to the bowling tournament?” Ethan asked.

The twins threw their arms around her, and she hugged them close, breathing in their little boy scents.

“You're almost as pretty as Mommy,” Jason whispered.

Addison's breath caught. “Thank you.”

A moment later, their pounding feet echoed down the hall.

Ethan shifted. “Want to wait?” he asked. “I should make sure they don't just splash some water around the bathroom.”

Unable to speak for the emotion welling up in her throat, Addison could only nod. She slipped by him and went back downstairs. The sound of high-pitched giggles accompanied by Ethan's baritone laughter floated down the stairs.

Since no one was around to stop her, Addison decided to poke around. In the dining room she discovered a gleaming, antique table and a gorgeous china cabinet. At the end of the room, French doors opened onto the front porch.

The kitchen was a mess, thankfully. It was nice to know the whole place didn't belong in a magazine. The playroom-slash-family room off the kitchen offered further evidence of people living in the house.

Finally, Addison arrived in the living room. The carved wooden mantle on the fireplace was a work of art. Above the mantle was a large portrait. This photograph had been taken at a studio and featured the entire family. A Christmas photo, judging by the red and green theme. The twins were older in this shot, maybe five or six.

“Our last Christmas together,” Ethan said.

Startled, Addison jumped and spun around. Ethan stood in the archway between the foyer and the living room.

“Bath time finished already?” Addison asked, trying not to feel guilty about poking around.

“The boys are brushing their teeth.”

“Your house is lovely.”

“Thank you. Jenny worked hard to fix it up. It sat empty for years, so it had gotten pretty run down.”

Of course Jenny Thomas had been a master decorator. “It's hard to tell people even live here. Especially in here and the dining room.”

“We don't use these rooms too often,” Ethan said, eyes focused on the image over Addison's shoulder. “I have a lady come in and dust once a week, but we're usually in the den or the kitchen.”

Right. Formal rooms would only bring back memories of dinner parties and Christmas trees by the bay window.

“You all look very happy,” Addison said, gesturing toward the portrait.

“We were.”

Silence. An awkward silence that heightened her anxiety. Ripples of unease turned to pounding waves.

“Thank you—”

“It was fun—”

They both stammered to a halt.

“You first,” she said.

“I was going to thank you for taking the boys tonight,” Ethan said. “They obviously had a great time.”

“We all did. I was worried about fitting in with the other mothers at first, but I think I won them over.”

The corner of his mouth kicked up. “You have a way of doing that.”

“Have I won you over?”

Ethan stared down at her, his expression solemn. “I think the issue is you winning over my sons.”

A long silence followed, and Addison could tell he was gathering the courage to do something. His expression became even more shuttered and distant. Whatever Ethan was working up the nerve to say couldn't be good. Dread slid down her spine.

The look in Ethan's eyes when he finally glanced up chilled her to the bone. “You're leaving soon,” he said.