Читать книгу Four Little Problems - Carrie Weaver - Страница 12

EMILY PULLED INTO the driveway, wishing for the zillionth time the garage was uncluttered enough to actually house the car. A glance toward the dark porch confirmed that Jason hadn’t had the forethought to turn on the light for her. Sighing, she turned off the engine. It had been one heck of a long day.

She went around to the back of the van and opened the hatch. Grabbing several grocery sacks, she headed for the door.

“Need some help?” A male voice startled her. Peering into the gloom on the porch, she thought she detected a familiar form.

“Patrick, what are you doing here?”

“P-pizza. Peace offering. I’m sorry I got you in trouble.” The poor man appeared to be shivering. And his attempt at making things right made her view him a little more kindly.

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“Yes, I did. Let me help you.” He took the groceries from her hands.

Ah, score more points for the science teacher. Emily was rapidly getting over being miffed at him for dragging her into the disk caper. “You look half-frozen. Why in the world didn’t you go inside?”

“Um, Jason said you were in the shower. No guests allowed while you’re in the shower.”

Emily slapped her hand over her mouth and groaned. “And you’ve been out here how long?”

He didn’t meet her eyes. “A few minutes.”

She got the impression it had been a lot longer than a few minutes. “I think Jason was being a little too concerned with the rules tonight.” She should be dancing a jig because he remembered them at all. But Jason’s selective enforcement suggested his adherence had been out of spite, not obedience.

“Which rule is that?” Patrick asked.

“The one where I asked the boys to tell people I’m in the shower when they’re here and I’m not. That way, some whacked-out stranger doesn’t know they’re home alone.”

“Whacked-out stranger. Thanks a lot.”

“Not you. A hypothetical stranger.”

“Ah. So Jason was only following instructions?”

“I’m sure that’s what his defense will be.” She opened the door with her key. “Come on in, if you don’t mind being subject to World War III. Jason and I need to discuss a few things.”

“I could stay out here till you’re done.”

“No way. You already look chilled to the bone. Besides, why should I have all the fun?”

“Fun?”

“Oh, yes. Two can play at this game. Watch and learn.”

His smile was bemused. “Lead on, oh great one.”

She stepped into the entryway and called, “I’m home.”

Jason came around the corner as if he’d been waiting. His eyes narrowed as he saw her companion. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hello, hon. Would you go get the rest of the groceries?”

“Um, sure.” He sidled past her as if he scented danger. He’d probably expected yelling and accusations. Heck, he’d probably hoped for yelling and accusations. The child seemed to thrive on chaos.

But she had way more in her arsenal than that. Emily turned to Patrick and winked.

He tilted his head to the side, but didn’t comment. Instead, he said, “I’ll go grab the pizza before raccoons haul it off. Luckily, pizza nukes fine.”

Emily touched his arm. “Patrick, it really was thoughtful. And I’m sorry Jason treated you so badly.”

“No problem.”

But his tense shrug told her it was a problem. And that made Emily sad. Jason would pay for mistreating her friend, and he would pay dearly.

The thought stopped Emily short. Patrick, a friend. Who’d have thought? Nancy and a few of the girls from work had been her only real friends for years. As for boyfriends, they usually took off once they met her kids, or realized she wasn’t quite the good-time gal they assumed. Yes, there was more to the science geek than met the eye.

Emily hummed a little tune as she took the groceries to the kitchen and started putting them away, taking time to give Mark and Ryan big hugs when they clambered in from the back yard.

“Emily?” she heard coming from the entryway.

“In here, Patrick.”

Patrick and Jason apparently reached the kitchen door at the same time, plowing through, shoulder to shoulder. Neither seemed inclined to yield to the other.

“Jason, Patrick is a guest in our home. You allow him to come in first.”

Her son averted his face. “Yes, ma’am.”

She handed a stack of paper plates to Mark. “Would you please set the table, honey? Ryan, you can put out cups and utensils.”

Both boys accepted their duties with enthusiastic whoops.

Patrick smiled at their eagerness. The same smile she’d noticed when he talked of his students.

“Jason, would you please start a fire?” Emily retrieved the long stick matches from the highest cupboard. “In the fireplace,” she amended quickly, remembering Jason’s penchant for finding loopholes.

“We don’t need a fire, Mom. Remember, we don’t have that much wood.”

“We have enough. Poor Patrick is frozen half to death.”

She could feel Jason tense, preparing himself for battle. “It’s not my fault he stood out there in the cold. I just did what you said about not having people in when you’re gone.”

“Of course you did, dear.” She patted his cheek lovingly.

Jason’s eyes widened. “Um, yeah, I did. I’ll go light that fire. In the fireplace.”

“Thank you, honey.”

Mark and Ryan froze, then tiptoed around her, as if they sensed something was up. Maybe the second endearment had been laying it on too thick.

“Is Jeremy in his room?”

The boys nodded.

“Would you please go get him?”

Nodding in unison, they ran to the base of the stairs and hollered, “Jeremy.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “I could have done that.”

After she reheated pizza, everyone filled their plates and found a seat at the table. Emily made polite chitchat for a few minutes before she went for the jugular. “Oh, Jason, the school newsletter says they’re looking for chaperones for the dance Friday night.”

Jason’s eyes widened in horror. “No way, Mom.”

Patrick tilted his head to the side, as if watching a foreign film and trying to decipher the subtext. And there was subtext galore.

Jason was a smart kid, and she would bet her last dollar he knew what his punishment would be. He just wasn’t quite sure how it would be administered.

“I’ve already decided to volunteer, so no arguing. I want to make sure I get to know each and every one of your teachers.”

“But, that’s what the parent/teacher open house is for.” Jason’s voice was an octave higher than usual.

“Yes, you’re right. But I obviously haven’t spent enough time at my children’s schools. Because you apparently thought I wouldn’t want Mr. Stevens in my home. Using your very best judgment, you decided Mr. Stevens was a complete stranger after spending nearly a month in his class.”

“No, I didn’t think that.”

“Oh? Then why did you leave him standing on the front porch when you knew darn well I wouldn’t be home for half an hour?”

“I told him to go.”

Emily started to burn. Jason’s insolence was worse than she’d suspected. As if, after his prank with the mousetrap, Patrick didn’t already think she was the worst mother on the planet. “I beg your pardon? You told him to go?”

“I, um, suggested that you would be in the shower for a long time and he might want to, um, leave.”

“It sounds to me as if you were rude to Mr. Stevens.”

Patrick shifted in his seat. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say he was rude.”

She shot him a look. “Then you’re too kind, Patrick. But I intend to make sure there aren’t any misunderstandings in the future about who constitutes a stranger.” Turning to her son, she said, “I will make it a point to meet each and every teacher at the dance and introduce myself as your mother. I will also introduce myself to any of your friends I haven’t met yet and get better acquainted with the ones I do know.”

The color drained from Jason’s face. “You can’t.”

“I can and I will. Furthermore, you were rude to Mr. Stevens and owe him an apology.”

“Sorry,” Jason mumbled.

“Apology accepted.” Patrick’s voice was low.

She glanced at Mark and Ryan, who were more subdued than normal. Regretting casting a pall over the meal, Emily smiled brightly. “Now, let’s enjoy our pizza.”

But then an idea occurred to her. One she just couldn’t let pass. “Patrick, it was very sweet of you to bring dinner tonight. Do you think you might consider being my co-chaperone at the dance Friday evening?”

Patrick chewed his pizza and swallowed hard. “Dance?” His voice held a note of panic.

“Why, yes. That way Jason will have the chance to get to know you.” And understand her choice of friends was not subject to his manipulation. Particularly her male friends.

“I think we’re pretty well-acquainted, now, don’t you, Jason?” Patrick asked.

“Yeah. We sure are, Mr. Stevens.” Jason nodded so rapidly Emily was afraid he’d give himself whiplash.

Patrick’s response was much less enthusiastic than she had hoped, but she didn’t intend to let that stop her. “And Patrick, I understand Linda Price will be there. She’s president of the high school PTO and was close friends with Tiffany Bigelow.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.”

“I’m looking forward to the opportunity of chatting with her regarding Tiffany’s record-keeping procedures.” Emily willed him to understand her double-speak. “She might know where we could find additional, um, materials.”

“Materials. Yes, well that does sound, um, promising.”

“And even if she doesn’t have any information, I understand she is an absolute pro at fund-raising. Something you might consider in light of recent developments. I know I’ve been giving it a lot of thought.”

Patrick nodded. “Absolutely. In that case, I accept your invitation. What time’s the dance start?”

“Eight o’clock. I’ll pick you up at seven-fifteen. That way I’ll have time to drop off the little kids at my friend Nancy’s house, then swing by and pick up Cassie.”

Jason groaned. “We were gonna double-date with Vince and his girlfriend.”

“Now, see, didn’t this turn out nice?” Emily smiled brightly. “You can double-date with your dear old mom and Mr. Stevens. What could be better than that?”

What indeed?

PATRICK DISCONNECTED from the Internet. Emily would be there shortly and he hadn’t found any solutions in his investment portfolio. He’d considered funding the trip himself, anonymously, of course. It would be worth every penny to watch Ari and Kat experience a whole new world.

But a quick glance at his portfolio had quashed that idea. He had a substantial sum set aside, but it would take more than a substantial sum to care for Roger once his mom and dad were gone. They made do with a couple of part-time home health aides and were great caring for his brother. Unfortunately, it was a full-time job for both of his parents, instead of the easy retirement they deserved. He worried sometimes they were working themselves to an early grave, but both claimed to enjoy having Roger living in their home.

Patrick ran a hand through his hair. Giving up on the Florida trip wasn’t an option, either, at least in his mind. Maybe they’d luck out and Tiffany’s friend would tell them where Tiffany had secreted the PTO money.

The doorbell rang. Glancing at his watch, he nodded. Emily was right on time.

When he opened the door, he wasn’t surprised to see Jason hanging back, expression sullen, holding the hand of a pretty teen. The infamous Cassie. But it was Emily who nearly took his breath away. She wore a suede skirt, boots and had her soft brown hair pulled back from her face. All suitable chaperone attire. But she also wore an itty-bitty, low-cut T-shirt that accentuated every lovely inch of her chest. What looked like a hand-crocheted vest went over the top to give the impression of modesty. But all it did was encourage him to visualize what she looked like sans T-shirt, with only the crocheted vest playing peekaboo with her breasts.

He cleared his throat. “Come in. I have to feed Newt before I go.”

“Newt?”

“My salamander. Let me dump a few crickets in his tank.”

“Live crickets?”

“Yes.”

Emily made a face. She wandered around his living room, studying his awards, stopping at the lone family photo. “Your mom and dad?”

His stomach clenched. “Yes.”

“You’re an only child?” It was an assumption many people made. Maybe because Patrick was serious and introverted. It hadn’t always been that way though.

“No. My brother isn’t in the picture.” In so many ways.

“Are you the oldest?”

“Yes.” Chronologically and mentally. Because there was no way Roger would ever be able to approach Patrick’s near-genius. But Patrick thought he would give his very life if Roger had the opportunity to show him up. Sibling rivalry had no place in the dynamics of their relationship. At least not in the past twenty-five years.

“Are you two close?”

“Yes. Roger’s my best buddy.” At least that’s what he told his brother every time he visited. It never failed to elicit a smile, sometimes marred by a spasm, other times accompanied by a trickle of saliva. But Roger’s smile touched a place in Patrick’s heart no other could reach. Not that many had tried. Most people were content to accept Patrick’s reserve at face value.

But Emily wasn’t most people. She studied his face. “I bet he looked up to you as a child.”

Patrick smiled, remembering the kid brother he couldn’t seem to shake. “Yes, he followed me everywhere.”

He turned at Cassie’s sharply indrawn breath. “Is that real?” the girl asked, pointing to Arnold.

“Yes. That’s Ahhnold.” He approximated an Austrian accent. “And this guy over here is Hairy S. Truman.”

“All Republicans,” Emily observed dryly. “A political statement?”

“No, just my warped sense of humor. It started with Hairy, for obvious reasons. Newt, as a play on words, because newts are a part of the salamander family.”

“That’s really tight, Mr. Stevens,” Jason said.

Cassie withdrew her hand from Jason’s and stepped back. “I think it’s gross. What does the snake eat?”

Patrick’s first instinct was to tell her the whole gory truth and gross her out. Live rats. Arnold squeezes them to death before swallowing them whole.

But tricks never led to anything good. He decided to provide Jason with a mature role model. “Rodents.”

Patrick was proud of his self-restraint when Emily repressed a shudder.

Fortunately, Cassie didn’t seem to realize the term rodents wasn’t the name brand of a processed pet food that came from a sealed bag. She said, “Whatever.”

“I’m ready.” He made sure all the enclosures were secure, leaving on the heat lamps. “Let’s go.”

Patrick was tempted to call shotgun as they approached the van, so like a family expedition. But he realized Jason wanted nothing more than to sit in the backseat with his girlfriend, sneaking a kiss when he thought Emily wasn’t looking in the rearview mirror.

The kids had made it pretty clear they didn’t appreciate being chaperoned. Yes, in bringing Patrick to the dance, Emily had elevated age-appropriate punishment to an art form. He knew from experience peer pressure and the threat of embarrassment worked wonders with the teen set. Patrick had no doubt he would be immediately invited in to the Patterson household if he visited again, day or night, whether Emily were at home or three states away. She’d certainly made her point.

Emily pressed the lock release on her key tag. “Are you sure you’re okay with me driving?”

“Positive.”

The drive to the high school went quickly. Jason and Cassie exited the van before Emily shut off the engine.

She rolled down her window. “See you inside,” Emily called out to them in an overly loud voice, enunciating clearly.

They pretended not to hear her.

Patrick went around to the driver’s side, but he was too late to hold the door for her. For some reason, that rankled. Though Emily could obviously take care of herself, he felt compelled to do things for her. He had a pretty good idea pampering was toward the bottom of her list.

“You’re an evil woman, Emily Patterson.” He couldn’t quite keep the admiration from his voice.

She grinned, lowering her voice to a Mae West growl. “When I’m good, I’m very good. But when I’m bad, I’m even better.”

His imagination was off and running with visions of her wearing the crocheted vest and very little else. His groin responded. “I’m sure you are.”

And Emily, brave, irreverent Emily, blushed.

Down, boy. He reminded himself she was someone’s mother, for God’s sake. Four little someones’ mother. The thought was an effective mood killer. “I mean, I’m sure you are very good at your job. Where did you say you work?” Lame save, but better than nothing.

Emily glanced away. “Luxury Lingerie. And I guess I’m a pretty darn good administrative assistant.”

They waited for a car to go by before crossing the parking lot. Patrick cupped Emily’s elbow in a friendly, don’t-want-you-to-get-run-over gesture. “How long have you been there?”

“Twelve years. Since right after Walt left. Walt was my first husband.”

Her long-term job surprised him. For some reason, his initial impression had been that she was flighty. But then again, they hadn’t met under the best circumstances. “You worked after the younger boys were born?”

“I didn’t have much choice. Larry couldn’t keep a job—Larry was my second husband. And when he left, he cleaned out what little I had in the bank.”

Patrick shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“I don’t get women letting men take advantage of them like that.”

Emily stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. She put her hands on her hips. “I made a mistake.”

“I could have told you that. I mean, why would such a beautiful, courageous, intelligent woman allow any man to treat her that way?”

She folded her arms over her chest. Her voice was soft when she said, “You’re not going to get laid tonight, Patrick, so save the BS.” Then she turned and stalked toward the gym.

He stood for a moment, wondering what he’d said wrong. Compliments were a good thing, weren’t they? Apparently Emily didn’t think so.

He couldn’t help but admire the steel in her spine. Then he noticed the luscious curve of her hips. Was he, on some subconscious level, trying to get laid?

Shaking his head, he lengthened his stride to catch up. He grasped her elbow. “Emily.”

She stopped. Her eyes sparkled under the outdoor lighting, whether from tears or anger, he wasn’t sure. “What?”

Patrick tried to articulate what he didn’t really understand himself. “It wasn’t BS. I won’t lie, I find you very attractive. But I have no desire to start a relationship with you. It just wouldn’t work. I simply describe you the way I see you.”

“That’s a hell of a way to mess with my mind. Insult me one second, then the next say one of the sweetest things a man has ever said to me. You swear you’re on the up-and-up, but tell me you’re not interested in a relationship. What exactly are you doing here, Patrick?”

He swallowed hard. “Research?”

“Research this.” She made a rude gesture and stalked through the double doors.

Patrick’s mouth dropped open.

And then he laughed. He’d never met a woman so unpredictable and refreshingly honest. Now, if he could just figure out exactly how he’d ticked her off so badly.