Just Destiny (18 page)

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Authors: Theresa Rizzo

BOOK: Just Destiny
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Jenny blinked. Travel? Hobby? Too many choices. “I
don’t
know.”

“Sure you do. You have all the answers in here.” She gently tapped Jenny’s temple. “And here.” She pointed at Jenny’s heart.

“Not helpful.” Jenny rolled her eyes up as if looking into her head. “Nothing’s there.” Her brain and her heart were empty.

Mom smiled. “It’s there. You just have to find it.”

“Don’t you have to pick Michael up?”

Mom looked at her watch and jumped to her feet. “Yep.”

Jenny walked her to the door and whistled for Ritz. She gave her mom a brief hug. “Thanks for lunch and the clean kitchen, Mom.”

“You’re welcome. See you at Michael’s soccer game, tomorrow? It’s home. Four o’clock.”

“Today at four?”

“Nope, tomorrow. It’d mean a lot to him.” She held Jenny’s gaze. “He really misses you.”

Determined not to let the big age difference deprive either of them of a close sibling relationship, Jenny had always made time for her little brother since the day he’d been born. She religiously attended Michael’s home games, but with Gabe’s death, well, she’d missed a few.

Way to pull the guilt card, Mom
. Though she had every intention of making more of an effort to get to her brother’s games, she didn’t appreciate her mother using Michael to get her out of the house.

She wiggled her fingers in a wave. “Bye, Mom. You’re going to be late.”

She closed the door. That was one pushy Irishwoman, but she was well-intentioned and she’d made a good point. Volunteering? Hmm. As she leaned back against the door, a kernel of an idea tickled Jenny’s brain.

 

 

 

Chapter 12

 

 

Sunday morning, Jenny woke to the rumbling of her garage door opening. She sat up and looked at the alarm clock. Eight-thirty. She cocked her head at the click, click, click of Ritz’s nails as she trotted across kitchen floor. Then the back door quietly clunked shut. Jenny threw the covers back and tiptoed into the hallway. She peeked over the balcony railing. “Steve?”

She couldn’t imagine Ritz allowing anybody else into the house without sounding an alarm. Rrr. Rrrr. A lawnmower purred to life, then the engine revved before it droned off across the front yard. Jenny hurried to her bedroom window and yanked the shade up just as Michael swung the mower around to cross the yard again.

Michael was cutting their grass? How come? Why wasn’t he at church or soccer? Jenny jogged downstairs. In the kitchen, a small white pastry box from East Detroit Bakery sat on her island countertop. She flipped the box open. Glazed, Bavarian cream, chocolate, and sugar doughnuts—all her favorites. Jenny smiled at the strip of white receipt paper and the simple note scrawled across it: “Love you, Dad.”

She picked up her phone and texted,
Thanks for the doughnuts, Dad
.

That was so like her dad, unobtrusive, yet there if she needed him. Snatching a chocolate doughnut from the box, she threw a jacket on over her PJs and slid her feet into flip-flops on her way out the back door. Michael’s bike rested against the brick next to the open garage door.

Her phone chimed with the eerie Harry Potter music Michael had downloaded and chosen as her text alert. Jenny looked at the message.
Eat, little girl. Mother says you’re wasting away
.

Mom
would
enlist Dad’s help. He was probably on his way to China; he had to go there for work just about once a month. She texted a smiley face.
Safe travels
.

Seconds later, a smiley face popped up on her screen. No reprimands, no guilting her into being happy, just gentle acceptance—that was her dad.

Across the lawn, Michael, earbuds in place, trudged behind the lawnmower. Her eyes teared up at her sweet little brother cutting her grass. Not so little anymore—At nearly fourteen, Michael had just shot up six inches and was closing in on six feet. He was tall, lanky and skinny and had become endearingly shy as if uncertain in his new bigger body. With shocking blue eyes and dark brown hair, there was no doubt she and he were related. He pivoted the mower and set off across the yard again.

What was he doing here? He should be out enjoying his weekend, hanging with friends and flirting with girls at the football games, not cutting his sister’s grass. Jenny frowned. Was this because she’d ignored his calls? She just hadn’t been up to putting up a happy front, so she hadn’t called Michael back. She didn’t want to scare her baby brother with her tears.

Michael started high school a few months ago—maybe he’d wanted to talk. Maybe he had a crush on some pretty girl. Maybe he couldn’t decide which classes to take. Maybe he was being picked on. Maybe he needed her and she’d selfishly ignored his calls. She hadn’t been a very good sister lately.

Michel turned at the far end of the yard, cutting one last strip. Naw…he wasn’t being picked on; her cute brother had always been well liked. Being a good-looking jock eased a kid’s way in school.

Michael paused when saw her standing there. He pulled the earbuds from his ears, leaving them to dangle down the front of his shirt as he pushed the mower over and turned it off. His shy smile renewed her guilt for not making more of an effort with him lately.

Jenny forced a smile. “Hey. What’re you doin’?”

He shrugged. “Your grass was gettin’ long.”

“Mom know you’re here?” Mom was always complaining that Michael constantly had to be reminded to do his chores. She wouldn’t be pleased that he was here working in Jenny’s yard if he hadn’t done his work at home.

“It was her idea.”

Her idea? Wow, Mom
was
worried. “You don’t have to. I…” she could get a service, but then again, it didn’t take a genius to cut a little grass. “I was going to get to it.”

Michael shrugged again, then looked away as if embarrassed. “I don’t mind. We went to the bakery, then Dad dropped me off on his way to the airport.”

She held out the doughnut she’d brought him.

He shook his head. “I ate mine.”

“Since when do you turn down a chocolate doughnut?”

“You eat it.”

She cut it in half and held out both hands. “I split, you choose.”

Michael looked like he’d refuse, but she raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, letting him know she wouldn’t tolerate any refusal. He reached for the one that was fractionally smaller than the other.

“Sorry I didn’t make your game yesterday—I was catching up on work. How’d you do?” Jenny hated that it sounded like the hollow excuse it was.

Michael polished off the doughnut in two big bites. “One goal and two assists.”

“That’s great.” She beamed, then suddenly felt sad to have missed it. “So what’s it like being at the bottom of the food chain again?”

“All right.” Michael shoved his hands deep in his pockets as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “Look, Jen, I know Mom’s bugging you about comin’ to my games and everything, but it’s okay if you don’t. I get it.”

Jenny cocked her head. “Get what?”

“That you’re sad. Gabe was a good guy.”

“Yeah, he really was.”

“At first, you marrying my doctor was a little weird, but he was cool. He treated me like one of his kids. Helped me with my topspin and slice.” He looked away at the road, then down at his shoes. “I figure if I miss him this much, you must really miss him.

Jenny nodded. “I do.”

“Mom’s always bugging Dad about calling and visiting you. She wants to bring you food and stuff, but Dad says you need time.” He looked away. “When I screw up during a game or have a bad day, I’m so pissed off, I just want to be left alone.” He looked at her. “It’s not the same as someone dying, so you probably need more time.”

Jenny swallowed a lump and blinked back tears.

“But I figured it’d be okay if I cut the grass or did some weeding. I could brush Ritz and walk her once in a while. She probably misses him too.” He crouched down to pet the dog. “Don’tcha girl?” Glancing back at Jenny, he added. “I won’t bother you. Okay?”

Jenny nodded.

“Oh,” —he smiled and stood—“and don’t let her make you feel guilty about not coming to my games. You’re not missin’ anything.”

Liar. Michael made the varsity team as a freshman—that was huge. He’d scored a goal and she’d missed it. Starting high school was a big deal. She was the adult. She should be supporting him, yet here he was cutting her grass, brushing her dog and lying to spare her feelings. She didn’t want to embarrass him with a sloppy display of emotions, so she ran a hand beneath her nose and took a deep breath. “So what’s her name?”

“Who?”

“The girl you’re showing off for at soccer games and don’t want me to meet.”

Michael grinned and turned away. “Come on, Ritz. Where’s the ball? Find it.”

There really
was
a girl? She’d just been teasing. “Is she pretty?” Jenny hurried after him. “Is she older?”

Michael blushed and walked faster. He scooped up a tennis ball from the asphalt and sent it sailing across the driveway deep into the backyard. He swiveled his Detroit baseball cap so the bill pointed backward and pushed the lawnmower behind the racing dog.

My God, he’s such a good kid
. Her parents were doing a great job raising him. Hopefully she’d be as good a parent to her and Gabe’s baby. Jenny returned to the house and glanced at the clock on the oven. Just enough time to call Alex and see how she was doing before her afternoon match with Steve and Annie.

Jenny was impressed with how well Alex was handling her father’s death—Ted too. They’d returned to school soon after the funeral, and Alex called weekly to check on Jenny. Ted was a little less communicative, but then he was a boy. Jenny would call him after Alex. Even though he was a young adult, Ted and his dad had been close and losing a father couldn’t be easy for a son at any age.

That Ted and Alex were so protective of her was sweet. Jenny had really lucked out that they’d worked out any resentments about their father marrying a younger woman early on and became friends. A slow smile lifted Jenny’s face. Cookies. She’d make them their favorite peanut butter surprise cookies while she talked to them. If she hurried, she could make a double batch and send some home with Michael.

Energized for the first time in days, she jogged up the stairs to get dressed. It’d been months since Jenny had sent the kids care packages. Every college kid loved mail and her kids deserved a little extra pampering.

 

* * *

 

Late that afternoon, Jenny headed through the hedges to Steve’s. It’d been several weeks since operation “Trojan Annie,” and Steve had apparently noticed Jenny’s efforts at distancing herself from the couple. Her reasons for turning down his repeated invitations were starting to sound like excuses.

To avoid an awkward confrontation, Jenny accepted the invite to hangout with Steve and Annie. To be honest, she’d missed Steve. Missed his company, his conversation, and the way he teased her out of a bad mood. No matter how hard she worked or what projects she took on to keep herself busy, life without both Gabe and Steve was lonely. Really lonely.

Jenny gave a token knock as she twisted the doorknob and entered Steve’s house. In the kitchen, bare feet and a jean-clad butt greeted her as Steve leaned into the refrigerator. An untucked, faded polo shirt completed his ensemble.

“Hey, Grant, ready to play?” Jenny looked around the room. “Where’s Annie?”

“She bagged out. Word games aren’t exactly her thing.”

After our last tête-à-tête, I didn’t think she’d leave me alone with you
. “She knows I’m here, right?”

“Yeah, why? Coke Zero or a Genuine Draft?”

“Soda, please.” She lifted her hips onto the counter. “Hey, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure.” Steve set the beer and soda on the counter and shut the refrigerator door before facing her.

“What do you see in Annie?” She raised a hand as he shot her an annoyed frown. “I’m not being snarky, just curious. I mean, she’s pretty and has a great body, but what do you two have in common?”

He leaned against the opposite cabinets and crossed his legs. “She’s beautiful and smart and independent. She’s a good mom.” He lifted his gaze and smirked. “And she’s crazy about me.”

Women were crazy about Steve; he had his pick. “But she makes you happy, right?”

“Yeah. Of course.” He paused a second too long before answering, then tilted the Heineken bottle and swigged his beer. Because she didn’t make him happy or because Jenny’s nosiness made him uncomfortable?

If there was a problem, it’s not like he’d say anything to her anyway. He seemed the kind of guy to keep his private life private instead of soliciting relationship advice from his buddies.

“What about the kids?”

“What about them? You have stepchildren.”

“Alex and Ted were sixteen and eighteen when I married Gabe. Annie’s kids are still young. It’s a bigger commitment. You’ll have to help raise them, and you won’t have much time alone with her.”

“It’s okay. Besides, I can’t have kids of my own, so this’ll be my chance.”

“You can’t have kids?” Her eyebrows lifted and the rude question popped out before the thought even consciously formed.

“Probably not. Had mumps in college.”

“Oh.” Well then, Annie’s appeal became more obvious, but still, he was pretty nonchalant about being sterile. Somehow she’d expect a guy to be a little more macho about infertility. Jenny popped the top on her soda to avoid looking at him.

“What’s with all the questions?”

She shrugged and slid off the counter. “Just curious. Where do you want to play?”

He stared, like he didn’t quite believe her and thought she was up to something, but he didn’t have enough to go on to accuse her. Steve pushed to his feet. “Set up on the coffee table, and I’ll get chips.”

It sounded like he was really going through with the marriage. In that case, she should make a bigger effort with Annie. “Do you think Annie would like it if I gave you guys a bridal shower?”

“She’d probably love it, but you don’t need to do that.”

“I want to. You’re getting married and I’m happy for you.” At least she was trying to be. Once Steve married, everything would change. Jenny forced a smile to her lips. “I’ll call her after Thanksgiving and set it up.”

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