Table for five (21 page)

“You know what I mean,” Cameron snapped back. “A regular family doesn’t have two dead parents and a ‘Remembering Derek Holloway’ special on ESPN.”

“Here, Cam.” Ashley waddled over and handed him a package of balloons. “Do it.”

He ripped open the plastic package and blew up a red balloon, filling it in about three big huffs. Ashley’s eyes shone with
admiration as she watched him. He tied a knot in the balloon and let it float to her. “Ah,” she said, delighted. “’Nother one.”

She was the one person in the world he couldn’t say no to. She had him blowing up balloon after balloon until she was swimming in a sea of them. While Cameron made himself dizzy blowing up balloons, he wished he could push the deadweight of fear out of his lungs. Now that he’d lost his parents, he was scared that those left behind might have to become a new kind of family. And even more scared that they might not.

Lily reached over, switched on the radio and found an oldies station playing “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.” She and Sean worked together, their movements slightly rhythmic as they followed his mom’s recipe. “A few weeks ago, you could only do Pop-Tarts,” she said to Sean. “You’re a quick study.”

“In all things,” he assured her. “My goal is to make Charlie red, white and blue pancakes for the Fourth of July.”

“Ambitious,” she said.

There was a kind of rhythm in their conversation, too. They weren’t exactly flirting, but they had a peculiar ease and flow going on between them.

“Yeah?” Sean lifted a bowl of pink batter and poured it into a cake pan. “Maybe you’ll think of me when you’re spending the summer in Italy.”

“Who told you I was doing that?” Her spine stiffened.

“Charlie, I guess. Is it some big secret?”

“No, of course not. It’s just…I canceled the trip.”

“Why?”

She shot a glance over her shoulder. Cameron kept blowing up balloons, acting totally preoccupied with the baby. “I should think that would be obvious,” Lily said. “I wouldn’t feel right going away now, or even six weeks from now.”

While he held the bowl, she scraped it down with a spatula. “Because you think I’m doing a bad job,” Sean said.

Whoa, thought Cameron. The rhythm had changed. At the same time, he took a perverse satisfaction in the idea that they were arguing in front of him. In a way, it showed a measure of trust.

Lily opened the oven and he slipped the cake in. She said, “Don’t make this into something it’s not. I’m not criticizing you for stepping up to the plate. I sacrificed a summer trip. You’re sacrificing a lot more than that.”

“’Nother one,” Ashley said, and Cameron picked a yellow balloon.

Charlie came in and her face lit up brighter than he’d seen it in weeks. “Cool,” she said. “Can I lick the bowl?”

“Me, too!” Ashley tossed a balloon in the air. A new song came on the radio—“Nah Nah Hey Hey”—and Lily and Charlie sang along, swaying their hips. And Cameron had a peculiar thought. This—the way they were now—was how holidays and celebrations were going to be. It was hard to believe, but they had to figure out how to laugh and have fun and tease and fight, even though his parents were gone.

“Well, you managed to blow up a roomful of balloons instead of helping with the cake,” Lily said to him.

“Yep,” he said. “So?”

“So nothing. I was going to thank you. It’s better than lollygagging around.”

“Nobody says ‘lollygagging’ anymore,” Cameron said.

“I say it all the time.” Lily tossed him a roll of pink crepe paper. “So quit lollygagging.”

“Y
ou know what’s weird?” Sean asked Lily after the birthday celebration.

“Pretty much everything these days,” she answered.

“I used to wonder what it was like to live here.”

They sat on the back porch of Crystal’s house. Under a blooming apple tree, Ashley and Charlie were playing an elaborate private game in the sandbox, involving all of the furniture from Barbie’s dream house, a collection of troll dolls and Ashley’s birthday doll. The sun was going down, its amber rays slanting across the lawn, and a light breeze stirred a shower of apple blossom petals through the deepening light, giving the scene a dreamlike quality.

“Where, here?” she asked. “In Comfort?”

“In this house.” He picked up a stray golf tee and rolled it between the palms of his hands. “Derek and I used to pass it every day on our way to school, and we always used to claim we’d live here one day. We envisioned a sort of colony populated by boys and dogs.”

She smiled, trying to picture him as a little boy. Blue eyes,
of course, and lighter hair. Probably a mischievous expression. “It’s funny where life takes you.”

He nodded. “Derek never gave up this house, but I went looking for something else.”

“And what was that?”

“Someplace a little more exotic. The French Riviera or maybe Buenos Aires. Or hell, Monterey. Everywhere is more exotic than good old Comfort, Oregon.”

“And here you are.”

“Here I am.” He raked his open hand through his hair. “Christ, I miss him. Everything’s just wrong. I shouldn’t be here, living this life. I’m not the one to fill his shoes.”

“That’s not what you’re supposed to do.”

“Then what the hell
am
I supposed to do?”

She thought about the way Charlie and Cameron had been today—wounded but healing. “I think you’re doing it.”

He rested his wrists on his knees and looked out at the yard with its garden of rhododendrons and fruit trees, old hostas spreading their huge leaves in the shade. “I sure as hell wasn’t expecting this.”

“No one was,” she pointed out. “Listen, about Maura…I didn’t mean to seem so judgmental this morning.”

“You were thinking of the kids.”

Was I? Lily wondered. I was, I had to be. If I was thinking of anything other than the kids, I’m in trouble. “She seems like a fine person. I admire her for working so hard on her medical degree.” She sounded so phony. He probably knew it, too.

“I’m going out, okay?” asked Cameron from the back door.

Sean stood and turned to face him. “Out where?”

“Just around.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Why?”

“So if I decide to cruise by later, there won’t be any surprises. Remember, we talked about this. I can’t stand surprises.”

Cameron stepped outside. He had his skateboard under his arm. “If you checked up on me, I’d shoot myself.” There was a note of barely suppressed annoyance in his voice.

Lily bit her tongue to keep from protesting his choice of words. Sean waited.

“I’m just going to hang with some friends.”

“Which ones?”

“Jeez, Uncle Sean—”

“Jeez nothing.” Sean waited, his stare locked to Cameron’s.

Lily was intrigued. She could feel the tension between them like a vibration in the air. Sean’s parenting style, if you could call it that, fascinated her. He operated solely by instinct, not experience, but his confidence never wavered. Maybe that was the key, she thought. Never let them see how scared you really are.

Cameron broke the staredown first. He surrendered first with his posture, then verbally, clearly not considering this an issue to lock horns over. “I’m headed to my friend Jason’s house. He lives over on Meadowmeer.”

“Call me if you go anywhere else.”

“I will.”

“And be home by eleven.”

“It’s a Saturday night.”

“That’s why I didn’t say ten o’clock. Be home by eleven or don’t bother going out at all,” Sean said.

Cameron gave a graceless farewell and stalked off.

Lily said, “You’re good with him.”

“Yeah, thanks. He’s a real happy camper.”

“I’m not kidding. He’s pushing and you’re not giving in.”

“I have no idea why there’s conflict at all. Hell, we’re on the same side.”

They sat together watching the sun sink away. Peepers raised a song from hidden places in the dark, and Lily finished her glass of iced tea. It was on the edge of her lips to say goodbye, I’ve had a nice day, see you later, but instead she just sat there, enjoying the breeze and the last colors of the day, the sounds of twilight settling around them.

“Did you mean what you said?” Sean asked suddenly. “About the good job?”

“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate. “Considering all that these kids are going through, they’d be a handful for anyone. This is a horrible thing to have to adjust to, but all things considered, they’re getting by.”

“So I get an A+ from the teacher.” There was a smile in his voice.

She looked over at him, watching the light play across his face. This mattered so much to him, she could tell. “When it comes to relating to the kids, I’d say so.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why do I sense a ‘however’ in that?”

“I didn’t say ‘however.’”

“You didn’t have to.” He chuckled softly. “All right, Miss Lily. Let me have it. I can take it.”

It was strange, how he seemed to see through her. “I question the value of
American Chopper.
”

“You’re kidding.”

“I don’t kid.”

“That’s right, I forgot for a minute. So you’re objecting to the best show on television?”

“Charlie can quote from it chapter and verse.”

“And this is a bad thing?”

“It’s a show about motorcycles. It has no redeeming value.”

He threw back his head and laughed aloud then. She found herself staring at his throat and having unsettling feelings. “You slay me, Lily, you really do. Watching a show about mo
torcycles is not going to warp the kid’s mind. It’s something we do together. We like it.” He sobered, his gaze piercing through the gathering darkness. “Maybe, just for a minute, she…forgets, feels normal. She deserves to do that every once in a while.”

The truth of it struck Lily and she nodded. “At least it’s not
South Park.
”

“Nope, that comes on a half hour later,” he said, then laughed at her horrified expression. “Kidding,” he said. “I know you don’t kid, but I sure as hell do.”

“Very funny.” She offered a smile of relief.

“You sure are a fussy little thing, Miss Lily,” he commented. “Food, TV, loading the dishwasher…How’d you get that way?”

Being raised in a house full of hate will do that to a person, she thought, but couldn’t bring herself to tell him. “I guess I’m just a creature of habit.”

He nodded, and they sat together in curiously companionable silence, listening to the peepers and to the girls playing together. Finally, Sean stood up. “I need to put these little grubs to bed.”

As he walked toward the sandbox, Charlie put up a hand in a defensive gesture. “Five more minutes.”

“Sorry, kid. Time’s up. You both need a bath.”

“No bath,” Ashley protested.

He picked her up and tucked her under his arm. “You like taking a bath.”

“Lily, will you stay?” asked Charlie, dragging her feet as she headed inside.

“I can’t,” she said automatically.

“Please.”

“But—”

“The kid said please,” Sean pointed out.

“All right.”

“Yay!” Charlie and Ashley gave each other high fives.

Lily wished she had a hot Saturday-night date. She wished she was headed out for an evening of drinking and dancing, but the fact was, she had no plans at all. The prospect of sticking around here was disconcertingly pleasant to her.

Sean and his nieces stampeded upstairs. In the kitchen, Lily heard the swish of running water and random giggles from the girls. Today, for the first time, Lily began to believe that Crystal’s children would survive their terrible loss. Until now, doubts had been all twisted up inside her, knotting into hard despair. Finally, she was able to relax. A little, at least.

Something else had happened today, a connection to the children and Sean that troubled Lily. She knew she had to keep her distance from this family, because they didn’t belong to her. He might decide to move to Phoenix next week, and just like that, they’d be gone. Lily didn’t know if she could survive a loss like that.

The dishwasher light indicated that the cycle was over, so she decided to unload it. Sean and Charlie had insisted on doing the dishes, and they were haphazardly piled in the racks. Lily pursed her lips, vowed not to let the disorganization ruffle her. Despite the way the dishes were loaded, they all came out clean. She was finishing up when Sean came downstairs alone.

“That was quick,” she said.

“They’re still in the tub. I just came down to get some towels out of the dryer.”

Her blood froze momentarily, then rushed boiling hot through her. A plastic cereal dish tumbled from her fingers. “My God, you can’t leave them alone.” She raced upstairs and burst through the open door of the bathroom. She felt Sean’s presence behind her but ignored him.

The girls were facing each other, up to their armpits in bubbles.

“Lily,” said Ashley, squishing a sponge in her hands.

She didn’t answer but turned and grabbed a towel from Sean, who stood in the doorway. The towel was still warm from the dryer. She got Ashley out of the tub, dried her off and got her ready for bed. “You, too, Charlene Louise,” she said to Charlie. “Unplug the drain.”

“Are you mad at us?” Charlie asked, clutching a towel around her. Bubbles still clung to her skinny legs.

Lily tried to will her heart to stop its panicked leaping. “Of course not.”

“Are you mad at Uncle Sean?”

Lily said, “It’s bedtime. Let’s see how quick you can get your jammies on.”

“That’s what grown-ups always say when they want a kid to shut up and go to bed.”

“That’s because it’s more polite than saying ‘shut up and go to bed.’”

Apparently satisfied with that answer, Charlie put on an oversize satin peignoir that dragged along the floor behind her. Noticing Lily’s look, she spread her arms like pale wings. “It was Mom’s,” she explained. “I sleep better when I wear it. Come and say good-night, Uncle Sean,” she called as Lily tucked her in bed.

He came into the room the girls shared. “Good-night, Uncle Sean,” he called back, clearly a running joke with them. He kissed the baby and handed her a toy to hide in the crib. Then he kissed Charlie on the head. “Good night, Zippy,” he said.

“’Night, Duke.”

As they went downstairs together, Lily felt disoriented by his sweetness with the girls. She wondered if he understood the power of that moment, and if he realized, as she did, that
this arrangement was actually working. Then she remembered that, sweet or not, he had just done something extremely frightening. “What were you thinking, leaving them in the bath unattended?”

“They like taking their bath together. I ducked out for maybe thirty seconds to get some towels.”

“They can’t be left alone in the bath ever again, do you hear me? Ashley is too little to take a bath unsupervised. And Charlie is too young to watch her even for thirty seconds. You need to promise it won’t happen again.”

He waved off her concern. “They were fine.”

“If you think that, you’re fooling yourself.”

“Hey, I’m doing the best I can. It’s awkward as hell with Charlie. I’m not her father and I don’t want to cross the line, if you know what I mean.”

She pushed down the panic climbing up in her throat. “All right. I get it. Charlie will have to take a bath on her own, but keep the door open and make sure you can hear her. You’re going to have to monitor the baby every single second, do you understand? You cannot even
blink
when she’s in the bath.”

He looked surprised by her vehemence. “Got it. No blinking.”

“I’m not fussing about this, Sean. You can’t dismiss this like you do my ideas about nutrition and TV and the right way to load the dishwasher.” She felt a fury of tears stinging her eyes and turned away to hide it. “This is life and death. Things can happen—everything can change—in the blink of an eye.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“Think of what it would do to Charlie if something happened, just think.” Her words came out in a passionate rush and when she stopped, she felt exhausted.

She looked up to find him staring at her, his expression cryptic. If he dared to argue with her, if he offered so much as a breath of contradiction, she would lose it, she just knew she would.

He inhaled a breath and then let it halfway out. “You’re right,” he said. “I was being stupid.”

Lord, thought Lily, his honesty was amazing.
He
was amazing. A few weeks ago he was some playboy golfer with nothing but his own selfish interests at heart. Now he had put all that aside and was willing to admit a mistake. She’d never really seen a man do that before.

He was trying to learn how this worked, to knit these wounded children into a family, and he was so sincere that it broke her heart.

“Thank you,” she said softly. Then it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him the truth—the truth about what happened to Evan and the way it still haunted her. She had never said a word to anyone, not to her parents or even to Violet. Now she astounded herself by saying, “I know you think I overreacted, but there’s a reason for that. I lost someone close to me a long time ago. It was an accidental drowning.”

“Jesus, Lily. I’m sorry to hear that.”

She took his arm and pulled him out to the screened porch to make sure they were out of earshot of Charlie. And out of the light. For some reason, she knew she wouldn’t be able to talk about this in the light. “There used to be three children in our family, but my brother Evan…well, he didn’t survive being a Robinson.” She paused, weighing the burden crushing down on her, wondering if it could possibly be shifted. “If you ask my parents, he didn’t survive me.”