Corinne paused, half turned toward the exit. “Tomorrow?”
“The orientation meeting for the competition.”
“Right.” She didn’t look entirely pleased at the reminder. “I’m sorry about the substitution.”
“I’m not.” He let his own lips curve because he’d gotten what he wanted. “It’ll be fun.”
~*~
At the end of her shift, Corinne could no longer put off thinking about the situation she’d landed in. The only thing she’d wanted since she came home was to quietly claw herself out of debt and make a life for her son, while staying as under the radar as possible. She got plenty of looks and snide remarks from people while she worked at the diner. Nobody expected the student body president to wind up a divorced college drop out with a child. She’d been planning on going places, doing things—albeit as part of the fruitless pursuit of her parents’ approval. She’d done considerable travel with Lance, but she wasn’t about to tell people that. They might think she was bragging or looking for some kind of sympathy for her current lowered circumstances.
And now she was partnered up with one of the town’s golden boys, about to be put on display for all to see. How could she possibly get through that? Corinne wanted out. She wanted to find the nearest rock to crawl under, so she could quietly go back to putting one foot in front of the other on the path she’d set for herself.
But she wouldn’t let Mama Pearl down. Her boss had given her a job and, more importantly, made her a part of the Dinner Belles family, offering up as much sassy caretaking as she provided her own six children. In the past year and a half, she’d been more of a real mother to Corinne than her own had ever been. So Corinne wouldn’t repay her kindness by bailing. No matter how much she wanted to.
But how on Earth was she going to manage to juggle rehearsals for the competition along with work, Kurt, and studying for the NCLEX? The truth was she couldn’t. Not without asking for more help from her mother. Marianne would give it, but there’d be a cost. There was always a cost with her. Whatever it was, Corinne resigned herself to paying it.
As she stepped into the house, she put the whole thing out of her mind, calling out for Kurt.
He came rocketing into the kitchen. “Mommy!” His sturdy little body torpedoed into her legs, almost knocking her over as he threw his arms around her.
“There’s the droid I was looking for.” Corinne scooped him up. Dear God, he’d grown over the summer.
“Do you know what kind of tools a ninja has?” he demanded.
Ninjas were his latest obsession. Because according to Kurt, ninjas were like Jedis. “What kind?”
“They use a gapple hook, a sword, a rope, and a zip line. That’s how they fly.”
“I believe that’s grappling hook.”
He looked up at her with eyes as dark as polished walnut. “Will you play ninjas with me, Mommy?”
Corinne’s heart simply melted. “Well, we could do that, but I thought we might go to the pool this afternoon.”
“Pool! Yay!”
“It’s too hot and too bright for the pool,” Marianne announced, coming into the room.
Corinne repressed a surge of annoyance as she looked at her nut brown son. “We’ve got high SPF sunscreen and it’s after three. He’ll be fine for an hour. He needs to burn off some energy.” She set him down and patted him on the butt. “Go put on your swim trunks and a t-shirt.”
With a double fist pump, he raced upstairs. Too bad she couldn’t bottle some of that energy and mainline it. It’d make those days she pulled double shifts a lot more doable.
“I figured you’d appreciate some quiet alone time,” Corinne said, trying for unperturbed.
“Well, and I won’t turn it down. But don’t you be blaming me when he gets burned.”
“Why would I blame you when I’m the one making the decision?”
Marianne grumbled something unintelligible. Whatever it was, Corinne let it pass.
“I’m going to pick up something to fix for supper tonight, too, since I’m off. Is there anything in particular you’d like?” Might as well play nice.
“Something for the grill. But nothing too heavy.”
“I can do that.” Corinne started toward the hall, thinking to put off the asking, then changed her mind, opting to get it over with. “Mom, there’s something I need to ask you.”
With a beleaguered sigh, Marianne settled at the kitchen table with a Diet Coke. “Figured there must be something with all this buttering up.”