“How’s work?” Nevada asked Montana.
“Good. I’m training a couple of new puppies. I talked to Max about the reading program I’ve been researching. I have an appointment with a couple of school board members to talk about a trial program.”
Montana had discovered several studies that explained that kids who were bad readers improved more quickly when they read to dogs instead of people. Something about dogs being all support and no judgment, Dakota thought. When her sister had approached her about the studies, Dakota had done a little research and found even more supportive literature.
“I love the idea of going into schools and helping kids,” Montana said wistfully. “Max says we’re going to have to expect to do it for free in the beginning. Once we show results, the schools will hire us.” She wrinkled her nose. “Honestly, most of what we do is for free. I can’t figure out where he gets his money. Someone is paying my salary and to take care of the dogs. Even if he owns the land and the kennel is paid for, there’s still upkeep.”
“He hasn’t said where the support comes from?” Nevada asked.
Montana shook her head.
“You could ask him,” Dakota told her.
Montana rolled her eyes and picked up her drink. “That’s not going to happen.”
Montana wasn’t big on confrontation, Dakota thought. She turned to Nevada. “How are things with you?”
“Good. The same.” Her sister shrugged. “I’m in a rut.”
“How can you say that?” Montana asked. “You have a great job, you’ve always known what you want to do.”
“I know. I’m not saying I want to stop being an engineer and take up pole dancing, but sometimes…” She sighed. “I don’t know. I think my life needs to be shaken up a little.”
Dakota smiled. “We could always set Mom up on a date. That would be a distraction.”
Both her sisters stared at her.
“Mom date?” Montana asked, her eyes wide. “Has she said anything?”
“Not seriously, but she’s vibrant and attractive. Why wouldn’t she date?”
“It would be weird,” Montana said.
“Or uncomfortable.” Nevada picked up her drink. “She would probably find a guy in fifteen seconds. I can’t remember the last time I was on a date.”
“That’s what I thought, too,” Dakota admitted. “But don’t you think one of us should be successful at the dating thing?”
“You don’t see the humiliation of that person being our mother?” Nevada asked.
Dakota grinned. “There is that.”
Montana shook her head. “No. She can’t. What about Dad?”
Dakota studied her. “It’s been over ten years since he died. Doesn’t she deserve a life?”
“Don’t get all logical and therapist-y on me. I’m very comfortable not being the mature one.”
“Then you shouldn’t worry. We were just joking about it.” As a way to release tension, Dakota thought sadly. As a distraction from the truth about her inability to have children.
“She didn’t sign up for the show, did she?” Nevada asked. “Not that I wouldn’t support her if she did.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Thank God.” Nevada leaned back in her chair. “Speaking of the show, when do they announce the contestants?”
“Tomorrow. They’ve already made their casting decisions, but they’re not telling anyone in advance. I think they’re broadcasting live or something. I’m trying to stay out of it as much as I can.”
“Will Finn be there?” Montana asked.
“Nearly every day.”
Montana raised her eyebrows. “That will keep things interesting.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Dakota said lightly. “He’s a nice man, nothing more.”
Nevada grinned. “You expect us to believe that?”
“Yes, and if you don’t, I expect you to pretend.”
AURELIA DID HER BEST to tune out the rant as she carefully put dishes into the dishwasher. The tirade was a familiar one. That Aurelia was a terrible daughter, selfish and cruel, who cared about no one but herself. That her mother had cared for her for years so it wasn’t wrong to expect a little support and comfort in her old age.
“I’ll be gone soon,” her mother declared. “I’m sure you’re counting the days until I’m dead.”
Aurelia turned slowly to face the woman who had raised her on a secretary’s salary. “Mama, you know that’s not true.”
“So I’m a liar?” her mother demanded. “Is that what you tell people?” Her mother’s face crumpled. “I’ve only ever loved you. You’re the most important person in my life. My only child. And this is the thanks I get?”
As always, Aurelia couldn’t quite follow the train of the argument. She was clear on the fact that she’d messed up—she always messed up. No matter what she did, she was a constant disappointment. Much like her father, who had abandoned both his wife and daughter.
Aurelia didn’t know if her mother had been a professional victim before he’d left, but she’d certainly taken on star status in the “poor me” department after.
“Look at you,” her mother continued, pointing to Aurelia’s long, straight hair. “You’re a mess. You think this is how to find a man? They don’t even see you. This is Fool’s Gold. There aren’t that many men. You have to try harder to get one here.”
Harsh words that were true, Aurelia thought. She moved through the world in a bubble. Doing her job, going out to lunch with her work friends, invisible to every man, including the president of the company. She’d worked for his firm for nearly two years, and he still had trouble remembering her name.
“I want grandchildren,” her mother declared. “I ask for so little, but do you give them to me?”
“I’m trying, Mama.”
“Not hard enough. You’re with businessmen all day long. Smile at them. Flirt a little. Do you even know how? Dress better. You could lose a little weight, too. I didn’t put you through college so you could be alone your whole life.”
Aurelia closed the dishwasher and then wiped down the counter. Technically her mother hadn’t paid for college at all. Aurelia had received a couple of small scholarships, a few grants and had worked to pay the rest. However, she had lived at home for free, so that was support. Her mother was right—she should be more grateful.
“You’ll be thirty soon,” her mother went on. “Thirty. So old. When I was that age, you were five and your father had been gone four years. Did I have time to be young? No. I had responsibilities. I had to work two jobs. Did I complain? Never. You lacked for nothing.”
“You were good to me, Mama,” she said dutifully. “You still are.”
“Of course I am. I’m your mother. You need to take care of me.”
Which was what had happened a few years ago. Aurelia had graduated, gotten her first job and moved out. A year or so later, her mother had mentioned money was a little short and asked her to help her out. A few dollars here and there had become the reality of nearly supporting her mother.
While her accounting job paid well, paying rent on two places, not to mention utilities and groceries, didn’t leave very much left over.
Other parents seemed proud of their children’s successes. Not her mother. She complained that Aurelia took horrible care of her. In this household, being a child meant a never-ending debt that only grew with time.
Aurelia stared out the kitchen window at the backyard beyond. Instead of a neat garden, she saw a giant balance sheet covered in red. Near-physical proof that she was trapped forever.
It wasn’t supposed to have been like this, she thought sadly. She’d always had dreams of finding someone special, of falling in love. She just wanted to belong without having to feel there was always a payment to be made.
An impossible fantasy, she reminded herself. She wasn’t especially pretty or interesting. She was an accountant who actually loved her work. She didn’t go to clubs or bars, and should a man ever speak to her, she wouldn’t have a clue what to say back.
“If you get picked for that show,” her mother warned, “don’t embarrass me by saying or doing something stupid. Be on your best behavior.”
“I’ll try.”
“Try!” Her mother, a small woman with penetrating dark eyes, threw her arms in the air. “It’s always try with you. Never do. You try and then fail.”
Not exactly a pep talk designed to make her feel better, Aurelia thought, walking through the kitchen to the small living room. She hadn’t wanted to audition for the reality show being filmed in town, but her mother had bullied her until she’d agreed. Now she could only hope she wasn’t chosen.
She’d even tried to get out of it by saying that she had to work, but when she’d mentioned the application to her boss, it had been one of the few times he’d seemed interested in her. He’d told her she could take off time during the day whenever she needed as long as she got her work done later.
“I need to get home,” she said. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
“Your own apartment,” her mother said with a scowl. “So selfish. You should move back here. Think of the money you’d save. But no. It all has to go for your pleasure, while I have nothing.”
Aurelia thought about pointing to the check she’d left on the table by the door. The one that would cover the rent and utilities for the month. Her mother was still working, earning what she’d always earned. So where was her money going? Perhaps for things like the new car in the garage and the stylish clothes she favored.
Aurelia shook her head. There was no point in going there. After all, once she gave her mother the money, it wasn’t her business how it was spent. A gift was to be given freely.
Although the checks never felt like a gift. They were much more a guilt payment.
She grabbed her purse, told her mother goodbye and stepped out onto the small porch. Her own apartment was only a few blocks away and she’d walked.
“I’ll see you soon,” she called over her shoulder.
“You should move back,” her mother yelled.
Aurelia kept walking. She might not be able to stand up to her mother, but she was determined that she would never live with her again. She didn’t care if she had to work five jobs or sell her own blood. Moving back would be the end of anything close to a life.
As she walked along the tree-lined streets, she wondered where she’d gone wrong. When had she decided it was okay for her mother to treat her so badly, and how was she supposed to figure out how to stand up for herself without allowing a lifetime of guilt to get in her way?
FINN HAD NEVER BEEN on a movie set, so he couldn’t speak to what happened there, but from what he could tell, television was all about the lighting.
So far the crew had spent nearly an hour adjusting lights and big reflectors in a newly built soundstage on the edge of town. Rows of chairs had been set up for the audience that was due to arrive, and there had been at least three sound checks on microphones and the canned music, but it was the lights that seemed to have everyone frantic.
He kept out of the way, watching from a far corner. Nothing about the situation interested him. He would rather be back in South Salmon, getting ready to ferry shipments north of the Arctic Circle. Unfortunately, his regular life wasn’t much of an option. Not until he could drag his brothers with him.
A few people walked toward the stage. He thought he recognized the tall man wearing a suit and what looked like an inch of makeup. The host, Finn thought, wondering what was the least bit appealing about being on TV. Sure, the pay was good, but at the end of the day, what had anyone really accomplished?
The host guy and Geoff had a long conversation with plenty of arm waving. A few minutes later, all the would-be contestants were led on stage. The curtain had a logo of the cable company on it—the stylized letters meaningless to Finn. He rarely watched network television, much less cable.
He saw a few people well over forty, a lot of good-looking kids in their twenties, a few ordinary types who were seriously out of place and the twins.
It was all he could do not to stomp onto the stage, grab one under each arm and head for the airport. Only a couple of things stopped him. First, the fact that it was unlikely he could actually wrestle either of his brothers into submission. They were as tall as him, and while he had more muscle and experience in a fight, he cared about them too much to really hurt them. Second, he had a feeling someone with the production company would call the police and the situation would go downhill from there.
“You’re looking fierce about something,” Dakota said, coming up and standing next to him. “Plotting to kidnap them?”
Finn was impressed by her mind-reading skills. “Want to be an accomplice?”
“I make it a rule to avoid situations that end with me going to jail. I know that makes me less fun at a party, but I can live with that.”
He glanced at her and saw her brown eyes were bright with laughter.
“You’re not taking my pain seriously enough,” he told her.
“Your pain is in your head. You know your brothers are capable of making their own decisions.”
“If we exclude their present situation.”
“I don’t agree with that.” She turned to the stage. “Everyone deserves to follow his or her dream.”