Ten more seconds, she promised herself, then she would pull it together. At least the act of crying had eased her panicky feeling.
She and Jackson clung to each other. Allison told herself she’d gotten through worse, but nothing in her past had prepared her for this.
“It’s me!”
Allison looked up in time to see her stepdaughter walking into the house. It was a straight shot from the front door, through the open living room to the kitchen—something she’d always liked about the small rental, although less so now. There was nowhere to hide, no way to keep Summer from seeing her and Jackson.
The sixteen-year-old’s smile faded instantly. She hurried forward, set the takeout on the table, then reached for Jackson.
“Summy!”
He held out his arms as she pulled him close. Summer rubbed his back, but her attention stayed on Allison.
“What’s wrong?”
Allison wiped her face and did her best to fake a smile. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just, you know, ah, pregnancy hormones. I started crying, then he started crying.” She waved her hand. “You know how it goes.”
Summer, tall and slim in that way of teenage girls, stared at her intently. “You’re lying.” Her tone was flat. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Allison had always admired Summer’s honesty and fearlessness when it came to confronting emotions. Today, however, she found that characteristic incredibly inconvenient.
“We’re fine.”
Summer’s eye roll told Allison she hadn’t been convincing, but honest to God, she was too exhausted to try again.
“Look, this isn’t a good time for us,” she said bluntly. “Why don’t you take the food and go home? I’ll make something for Jackson and we’ll have an early night.”
“That’s not happening.”
Summer carried Jackson to the bathroom. Seconds later Allison heard running water.
“Let the water get a little warm,” Summer said, her voice cheerful. “Uh-huh. We are washing our hands together. This is fun. Are you hungry? I think you’re going to love dinner.”
Obviously the teen wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Allison gave in to the inevitable. She blew her nose, then washed her own hands. Once that was done, she unpacked the meal. Summer had gone to their favorite Mexican place and ordered for what seemed like twenty. There were a dozen chicken street tacos, along with a huge salad with chopped vegetables and avocado, and sliced oranges on the side. One container was full of rice, another, pinto beans. There were two trays of enchiladas, and the quesadilla Jackson liked.
Summer returned with Jackson on her hip. “Someone’s hungry.”
Allison tried to smile. “You or your brother?”
“Probably both of us.”
Summer set Jackson in his high chair, then collected plates from the cupboard. She put chicken from a taco on a plate, then tore a quesadilla wedge into small pieces. She added a few of the diced raw vegetables and two orange slices.
When she’d placed the food in front of Jackson, she glanced at Allison. “Did you want to get his milk?”
“What? Oh, right. Sure.”
Allison poured whole milk into a sippy cup and gave it to her son. She grabbed a bottle of some weird fruit-coconut drink that Summer kept in their fridge and handed it to her stepdaughter. She poured herself water as Summer stuck the enchiladas in the refrigerator.
“Those will heat up great for lunch or dinner tomorrow.”
Allison couldn’t imagine ever feeling well enough to eat, but nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
At least that part was true, she thought. Summer was always like that—bringing extra food or little gifts. She was thoughtful and kind.
When Allison had first started dating Peter, he’d told her horror stories about his cold, cruel ex-wife. The details had been so vivid, she’d been terrified to meet his daughter. But Summer was apparently nothing like her mother. From the first second, she’d been so sweet and caring. She’d been thrilled when Allison had gotten pregnant and even more delighted when baby Jackson had been born. She was the perfect stepdaughter. Peter was rightfully proud of her. He—
Without warning, the tears returned. She tried to blink them away but they flowed down her cheeks. She mumbled something and raced the few feet to the bedroom she and Peter shared. But before she could close the door, Summer was right there next to her.