“My GPA is too low for me to be on a team,” Tamara said proudly. “Nice try, though, Officer Em.”
“This is a club, not a team. I just got permission from Dr. Didier for you all to join. Isn’t that sunshiney and sparkly and wonderful?”
“What drugs are you on?” Dalton said. “And can I have some?”
Inside the rink were two other kids—Abby Vanderbeek and Charlie Kellogg. “Can we join, too?” Abby said listlessly. “My mother said I needed to be on a team sport, but I really think she just wants more grown-up time with my father.”
“I’m so sorry,” Tamara said.
“Yeah, of course you can join,” Emmaline said. “Have you always loved curling, Charlie?”
“I don’t even know what it is,” he said. “I’m just keeping Abby company.” He blushed.
“Aren’t you guys cousins?” Cory asked.
“No. We’re not related.” His face went from blush to lava.
“Everyone’s related in this town.” Abby sighed. “I hear you’re sleeping with my uncle, Emmaline. Will I be calling you Auntie soon?”
“Shut up, Abby,” came a voice. “Hey, kids!”
Speak of the devil. Jack came over to Em and planted a quick kiss on her lips.
“Disgusting,” Abby said. “Isn’t it enough that my parents are home pretending to be Lord and Lady Crawley? Now my uncle is making googly eyes with the last cool adult in this town.”
“I think it’s beautiful, man,” Dalton said. “You go, Jack.”
“You guys are cute,” Tamara said. “You gonna get married? Can we be in the wedding?”
“Enough, enough,” Em said. “Here are the rules, more or less.”
For the next ninety minutes, Emmaline let the kids go at it. The curling stone, a hefty, polished granite rock, was pushed from one end of the rink to the other, the kids furiously scrubbing the ice in front of it. Em didn’t bother with technique; it was enough that the kids were doing something other than sitting around, complaining about life’s injustices. Dalton kept running down the ice and sliding on his belly like an otter, and Charlie Kellogg and Abby seemed to have a dozen inside jokes, which was kind of nice.
Em went to the bleachers and sat, taking a couple of pictures of her kids (and sure, one or two of Jack). It was rare to see her kids in motion, and for once, they were all smiling.
Kelsey even got in on the action a little as the lead, the person who pushed the stone down the ice. She was six months along, which meant the baby would come right before graduation. She hadn’t named a father yet and hadn’t made a firm decision about adoption, either. Em was worried. If Kelsey didn’t graduate...
“Yes, my brother!” Jack shouted, high-fiving Dalton. “We win!”
And speaking of worries, Jack was a little manic today. He had been since the other night, when she’d asked him about going to the hospital. That same night, he’d had a doozy of a nightmare, unable to wake up from it. She’d tried to soothe him, whispering that everyone was safe. But there were dark circles under his eyes.
He saw her looking and flashed her a smile that was too bright.
She’d tried to fix Kevin, too. Fix his ego, his weight problem, protect him from mean people and his own negativity, and that had backfired miserably.
There was no reason to think she could fix Jack. She could be a distraction. She could be fun. She couldn’t save anyone, and she shouldn’t try.
“Excuse me,” came a sweet voice, and Em tried not to twitch.
“Hadley. How are you?”
“I’m just wonderful, thank you,” she said. “And how are you, Officer Neal?”
“Great.” Though it was a balmy forty-five degrees today, Hadley wore a black wool coat with fur around the collar and a matching hat, looking like something out of a Russian fairy tale. Em was in uniform, as usual.
As if on cue, Hadley looked her up and down. “You’re looking very...muscular today.”
“Thank you.”
“It was more of an observation than a compliment. But I guess up here, you women need to be strong, since y’all are much more likely to stay single.”
“True,” Emmaline said. “I am single and can open jars all by myself. That being said, I’ve never been divorced.” Never cheated on my husband, either.
“Yes, I read People magazine,” Hadley replied. “Well. Doesn’t everyone?”
“Touché.”
“I’m here to talk with Jack, actually, but I just love watching him move. Reminds me of just how graceful he is. And predatory, if you know what I mean.”
Em rolled her eyes. Glanced at her watch. “Pack it in, kids,” she called. “And Jack, there’s someone to see you.”
Jack came over, his face neutral at the sight of his ex. “What can I do for you, Hadley?” he asked, ever polite. Irritating.
“Jack, it’s so good to see you!” she said, clasping her gloved hands in front of her. “You looked so handsome out there. Well, you always do, don’t you? Now, guess who’s in town? Frankie! She’s dying to see you, Jack! Please say you’ll come for dinner this time, please. You know how she’s always adored you. Oh, my gosh, you know what she remembered today? The time the three of us went on the ole trolley tour and you and she were standing in front of that bakery, and y’all didn’t even notice when—”
“Yeah, okay,” he said. “What time?”
“How about cocktails at six o’clock? You know how Daddy instilled that in us.” She beamed.
“Fine. See you later, then.”
“Oh, hooray! See you later, baby!” Knowing to quit when she was ahead, Hadley practically skipped away.
“You two-timing Officer Em?” Dalton asked, sliding over.
“No,” Jack said. “It’s just dinner.”
“Dude, are you crazy?” Dalton said. “It’s not okay! Although, props, man. She’s gorgeous.”
“Em?” Jack asked. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”
“It’s fine,” she said. It was not fine. And yet, she knew he was fond of his former sister-in-law. And it wasn’t like they’d made plans that he’d just canceled. Nor did she want to be that kind of girlfriend who told him who he could see and who he couldn’t, because, let’s face it, those women were control freaks.
Still. Teeny Tiny wanted him to come for dinner, and he was going.
“Oh, you’re screwed,” Dalton said. “Sucks to be you, pal.” He ran down the ice and slid once again.
“Is he right?” Jack asked. “‘Fine’ does tend to signal doom when it’s said like that.”
Em glanced over his shoulder. “It’s fine. I have to get the kids back.”
“It’s just that Frankie and I stayed friends.”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“Shit. I’ve screwed the pooch here, haven’t I?”
“No. You can have dinner with anyone you like. This is America. Life, liberty and dinner with your crazy ex-wife.”
“I haven’t seen Frankie in months.”
“Jack, it’s fine.” She summoned a smile. “But you’ll miss me.”
He bent down and kissed her on the mouth. “You got that right.”
Emmaline dropped the kids back at the church and then headed for home. Looked as though she’d have to cook tonight, alas. She unlocked her front door and went inside.
There were four suitcases in the living room, and sitting on the couch with Sarge on her lap was her sister.
“Angela!”
At the sound of her voice, Sarge leaped off Angela, grabbed Squeaky Chicken and began twirling in his love circles, whining around his toy.
“Oh, Emmaline, it’s so good to see you! I’m so sorry I didn’t call first!” Angela unfolded herself like an elegant flower and hugged Em tight, causing further joy from Sarge, who leaped against their legs, trying to get in on the action.
“It’s great to see you,” Em said. “What a surprise!”
Angela made a rueful face. “You’ll have to forgive me,” she said. “It was impulsive, I know.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Oh, yes, yes, it’s fine. It’s just...well, I’m a bit at odds. Can I stay with you for a little while?”
“Sure,” Em said. “It’s your house, too. Nana left it to both of us. But what’s going on?”
“I’m filling in for a colleague at Cornell,” she said. “It was rather sudden, but frankly, the timing was perfect. You see, I just ended a relationship.”
“You did? I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”
“Yes. I wanted to tell you at the wedding, but it didn’t seem the right time. It’s been ending for a while, actually, but now it’s official. And Mama and Papa...They’ve been circling. You know how it is when they sense you’re troubled.”
“Like vultures?”
Ange smiled. “I knew you’d understand perfectly.”
“You can stay here as long as you like,” Emmaline said, meaning it. “We’ll finally live together.”
Angela’s eyes filled with tears. “And how lovely that will be. Also, Emmaline, I’ll need your help telling Mama and Papa some news.”
“What news is that?” Was she pregnant? They’d be thrilled. Hell, Em was thrilled at the very thought.
Her sister took a deep breath. “I’m g*y.”
Em’s mouth fell open. “I, uh...wow. I didn’t know that.” She paused. “Will they be crushed that it’s you and not me?” she asked, and much to her relief, Angela burst out laughing and hugged her. “Just promise me you’ll have biological babies someday,” Em added. “We don’t want your gene pool to go to waste.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ONE OF THE things Jack remembered most about Hadley was she couldn’t cook to save her life. From two flights below, he could smell smoke.
“It don’t smell so good in here,” Frankie said when she opened the door, using her good-ole-boy accent. “I may be staying with you tonight, Jack, ’cuz it may be that something crawled in that there oven and took its life. Or it could be Big Sister’s version of pot roast. Best if we don’t try to find out.”
“Hey, Frankie,” Jack said, giving her a hug. “Good to see you.”
“You, too, big fella! We’re going to O’Rourke’s, if you don’t mind. Hadley was trying to impress you by cooking, but I remember the burgers at O’Rourke’s with a deep and abiding fondness, so I’m not at all sorry with this turn of events.” She thudded down the hallway to get her coat.
Jack took a couple of steps into the apartment. There was a nearly empty bottle of Blue Heron Chardonnay on the counter. The wedding photo beamed out at him.
“Oh, Jack, I’m so embarrassed,” Hadley said, coming out of the kitchen and untying her apron. “I wanted us to have a nice family dinner, and I just do not know what happened.”
There were tears in her eyes. One thing Hadley hated most of all was to look foolish in front of her sisters, those high-achieving, high-IQ women, and he felt a pang of sympathy for her.
“Well, it was really nice of you to try,” he said.
She gave him a faint smile. “Thanks,” she whispered. “Guess you know I was always something of a pretender to the throne when it came to cooking.”
“Don’t worry about it. Come on, ladies—off we go. Frankie, is that a new tattoo I see on your wrist?”