Luke appeared, and Helen’s breath caught. Though her oldest was only fifteen, something had happened in the past year. Where once there was a boy, she now saw the shadow of the man he’d be. And that man would be the spitting image of his father. She felt a pang, realizing their son wasn’t too much younger than Rob had been when they’d first met.
“Sorry, Mom. Ellie stopped up the toilet. ”
She scowled and tossed down her purse. If she told that girl once, she’d told her a thousand times: not too much paper. “You get in the car. I’ll go take a look. ” The last thing she needed was coming home to an overflowed toilet and flooded bathroom.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I dealt. ” He shuddered. “I would’ve come down, but I wanted to fix it for you. ”
“You’re too much,” she said, suddenly choked with emotion. Her boy might’ve looked like his dad, but he sure didn’t act like him, and thank heaven for that. Her Luke was always the caretaker, the peacekeeper, though sometimes it made her heart ache. She wanted him to be a boy—to have fun and get dirty. “You didn’t have to do that. ”
“Sorry I made us late. ”
She grabbed her purse. “Are you kidding? Don’t you give it a second thought. ”
“You won’t really tell Bear on me, will you?”
She had to reach up to scruff his hair. “If Bear doesn’t like it, he can lump it. ”
It saddened her, knowing how hard it was to focus on being just a boy when you had a no-good absentee dad. As the oldest, he saw more, noticed more. He remembered more, too, from before, when Rob had actually spent time around the house. When he’d been a real father. A real husband.
Her other boy, Emmett, pushed inside. “I forgot something. ”
She caught his collar, stopping him. Her stern-mom tone came back with a vengeance. “Oh, no you don’t. We’re almost out of here. Get back in the car. ”
Emmett flinched free, and she could see the machinations clear on his face. He’d just turned eleven, and there was something about that age that had him trying rebellion on for size. “But I wanted to bring my canteen. ”
“I’ve got a water bottle already packed for you. ” She aimed him back in the direction of the minivan. “Now go. ”
She followed him outside, and just as she was about to lock up, she got a good look at her youngest. Helen cursed under her breath. “Ellie Lynn Haskell, stop right there. Where are your shoes?”
Her daughter waggled her foot, showing off a strappy Cinderella sandal with a big Lucite heel covered in silver glitter. “I’ve got shoes. ”
“Those are dress-up shoes. Go inside and get your sneakers on. ” With a quick check over her shoulder to make sure the boys were getting in the car, she pointed Ellie inside. “You know Uncle Mike is taking you for a hike. There’s no way you can trek to the falls in those. ”
The little girl dug in her heels. “He puts me on his shoulders when I don’t feel like walking. ”
Helen’s response was instant. “I am not raising myself any princesses. ” She prodded her daughter back inside. “You’re a strong girl, and you’re going to walk on your own two feet if I have tell your Uncle Mike myself. ”
As Ellie slipped on her sneakers, Helen fumed. It was hard enough watching the Bailey sisters live out their fairy-tale lives every day; she was not raising herself a girl who expected to be carried by a man. She knew the truth—there were no such thing as princes, and she’d not raise Ellie to have any delusions.
Finally, the girl sprang out, sneakers on, and Helen locked the door behind them. “Hallelujah. ”
She dropped the kids off, thanking heaven for her in-laws. It wasn’t the first time she’d mused how she’d married the wrong brother. But Mike was a good ten years older and hadn’t been nearly as cute as Rob, and when you were seventeen as she’d been, not much had mattered more than cute.
Mike was happily married now, though there’d been some tough times when he and Judy had been unable to have kids of their own. Eventually, they’d stopped trying, but Helen still caught the wistful looks the couple shot her own kids, and it was always a reminder—in the worst of times and during the hardest of days, she had to thank heaven she had three beautiful children. And God bless Judy and Mike, for there wasn’t a resentful bone in either of their bodies. Instead, they’d spelled her more than the average uncle and aunt would. Maybe Mike felt guilty about his no-good baby brother, but he especially looked out for the kids, taking them on hikes, for bike rides, or to ice cream.
Things their own father should’ve been doing.
But how could Rob be there for their kids when he hadn’t even come home last night?
It’d been happening more and more lately. When he pulled stunts like that, she had no clue where he slept. Maybe he had a hottie on the side—who knew? All she knew was that most nights, by the time her shift ended, he was gone from the house. He’d always leave clues to his existence behind—a plate in the sink, mussed pillows on the couch—and it was those little signs of life that were the hardest to take.
She was pensive as she pulled into the lot of the Thirsty Bear Tavern, and once she slammed the minivan into park, she couldn’t help but peek at her cell, even though she knew what she’d find: nothing. No calls from her husband. No texts, no voice mails. But still, she always checked. And damn her soul for trying.
She tossed the silly thing back into her purse, unbuckled, and sneaked a peek at herself in the rearview mirror. At least she still had her looks, not that anyone cared. The good men of Sierra Falls wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole, and she had no use for the bad ones—not that she’d let anyone touch her, not really. She had some fool notion that her husband might wake up one day and decide he liked her enough to want to start showing up to their marriage every now and again.
And so she kept on trying, just in case. If she kept up her looks, maybe Rob would stop looking for whatever it was he thought he was missing. She flipped the visor mirror shut, feeling an inexplicable flicker of hope. She was looking good, if she did say so herself. Her red hair was saucy as ever and still free of gray—thank you, Grandma’s good genes. Plus, she’d saved up her tips and splurged on the Victoria’s Secret catalog, buying a sexy little bra that did wonders for her sagging, mother-of-three assets.
What the hell, she thought, as she dug back in her purse for her phone.