Authors: Maureen Child
Attempts at a haircut had so far failed.
Thin and gangly, his body seemed to be a collection of sharp angles. And if, like a puppy, he grew into the size of his feet, he'd end up at least seven feet tall. But at the moment, he was just a kid. And the center of Tasha's heart.
“How was school?” she asked as she took Edna's money without bothering to count it. Heck, Edna knew the prices at Castle's Salon better than Tasha did. But then, why wouldn't she? The old woman had been a customer here for forty years. Tasha'd only been here seven.
And before that, there'd been onlyâ
Nope. No point in going down that road. The past didn't matter. Anything beyond her arrival on Mimi Castle's doorstep was ancient history and better forgotten than revisited.
Especially now.
“It was okay,” Jonas said with a shrug that could
mean anything from “school was boring” to “I won the Nobel Prize.”
Though the Nobel Prize was a long shot, there were other things to be considered. Like homework, for instance. Or that math test she'd helped him prepare for.
“How about your test?” Tasha asked, stuffing Edna's money into her jeans pocket and giving it a satisfying pat. “How'd you do?”
“Okay,” he said again, and Tasha wondered if they gave lessons in evasive maneuvers in junior high these days. Or maybe it was just genetic. Become a preteen, forget how to talk. A couple of years agoâheck, even
one
year agoâJonas would have come into the shop bursting to tell Tasha or Mimi what he'd done in school. He would have told all the ladies some dumb knock-knock jokes and then complained of starvation.
But times change, Tasha told herself.
People die.
Kids grow up.
And secrets were born.
She buried the ache in her heart that always leaped into life when she thought of Mimi Castle, and forced a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. God, she missed Mimi.
Jonas grunted to the women clustered in the shop portion of the Victorian, then ducked through the connecting doorway that would take him into the main house.
Tasha was right behind him.
Just because he was closing up, trying to shut her out of his life, didn't mean Tasha was going to stand by and let it happen.
She hurried through the service porch, with barely a glance at the mound of laundry waiting to be washed.
She didn't spare a glance at the dishes in the sink as she moved through the kitchen. As she quickened her steps, her sandals clicked noisily against the scarred wood floor of the dining room.
Tasha caught him at the base of the stairs. He might be younger, but she was quicker.
“Hey,” she asked, reaching out for him to slow him down, “what's the big rush?”
“No rush,” Jonas said, and slipped out from under the hand she'd laid on his shoulder.
Tasha ignored the tiny pang around her heart as she let her hand fall to her side. There was something going on here. Something that kept him from meeting her eyes.
And a tiny tendril of fear rippled through her. Heck, she knew better than anyone what kinds of things were out there in the world, just waiting for a chance to snatch at a kid. Just the thought that he might have already stumbled into trouble tore at her.
“Jonas,” she said, reaching for him again before he could scoot out of range, “what's going on?”
He flipped his hair back, then looked at her through those wide brown eyes of his. “Nothing, Tasha,” he said with an “I'm so innocent, how could you not believe me?” expression on his face. “Everything's cool.”
“Cool, huh?”
“Totally.”
Tasha smoothed his hair back from his face and he didn't pull away, so she counted that as a plus. “You're not in trouble or anything, are you?”
“No way.” He actually looked insulted.
“Would you tell me if you were?”
He grinned. “No way.”
That smile of his jolted her heart. She hadn't seen
it very often lately and she'd missed it. God, she loved this kid. She smiled back at him. “Okay then. Go on up and do your homework.”
His whole body moped. “Aw, man. Come on, Tasha. How about a half hour of TV and
then
homework?”
“Let me guess,” she said. “The Sports Channel.”
He nodded.
“Fine,” she said to his back as he raced up the stairs, making enough noise for six kids his size. As his bedroom door slammed shut, she shouted, “A half hour. I'll be checking!”
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Jonas tossed his backpack onto the floor, dropped onto his mattress, and propped a pillow under his chest as he lay on his stomach, grabbed the remote, and pushed the
ON
button. The TV flickered briefly, and for one short second Jonas was afraid the old set wasn't going to come on this time. Heck, it was older than him; it was bound to go out sooner or later. “Just not today, okay?” he said softly.
As if it had heard him, the picture rolled wildly, jittered like someone was shaking the set, and then suddenly straightened itself out.
He whistled out a relieved breath and punched in the right channel. The camera moved in for a close-up on the reporter's familiar face and Jonas studied the man carefully.
When the reporter smiled into the camera, Jonas smiled back. His stomach jumped like millions of butterflies were bumping into each other down there. He slapped one hand against his belly, trying to tame them, but it didn't work. There was just too much going on.
Too much about to happen.
He'd waited for this for so long, Jonas didn't know whether to be excited or scared. He knew Tasha would be mad when she found out. But sometimes a guy just had to do stuff that girls didn't understand.
Another guy would get it, though.
Jonas looked at the reporter again. “You'll understand, won't you?”
USA Today
bestselling author
Maureen Child
has assumed different identities to write a total of 115 books in several different genres. One of her paranormal westerns was made into a CBS-TV movie called
The Soul Collector
.
Her books have won the National Reader's Choice award, the Colorado Award of Excellence, the Prism, and the Golden Quill among others. Maureen's a seven-time finalist for RWA's RITA award and her books regularly hit the bestseller lists. Along the way, she's dodged a few asteroids and also lived through some direct hits. The real secret to a writing career is persistence and adaptability.
Being able to survive an asteroid blast doesn't hurt.
Maureen and her family, native Californians, now live in the mountains of Utah where they're learning to deal with snow.
Visit her at:
www.maureenchild.com
or sign up for email updates
here
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Contents
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
KNOWING YOU. Copyright © 2003 by Maureen Child.
Excerpt from
Loving You
copyright © 2003 by Maureen Child.
Originally published in 2003 as part of
Finding You/Knowing You
.
All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
Author photo © Melissa Hackett