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“What in the world?” Clara asked, sounding already exasperated with me.
I stood, brushing off my slacks, and shot the tiny person at her side a quick squint. There would be retribution later. She’d made me look like an idiot. Again.
“Ah, yeah. Sorry, dropped my keys.” I held up the keys and took my first full look at Clara’s face, and then nearly dropped them for real. “Wow. You look. I mean. Wow.”
She frowned at me. “Okay.”
“He thinks you look pretty, Mommy,” Katie said, earning back a bit of my trust. “What about me?” she stepped past her mother and did a twirl on the porch, sending her purple skirt into a swirl around her. She wore some kind of toy tractor on a string around her neck, which seemed like an odd choice of jewelry, but I wasn’t about to challenge Katie. I already knew she’d probably win.
“You both look really beautiful,” I said, looking at Katie because seeing Clara’s deep eyes framed with smoky makeup and her mouth painted in that devilish shade of dark red made me question my ability to speak.
“You clean up pretty well too,” Clara said. “I see you found a shirt.”
What did that mean? “I have several shirts,” I told her, not sure whether I was going to be offended about whatever she was getting at.
“Who knew?” she said breezily, stepping up to lock the front door and then heading down the steps ahead of me.
Katie and I exchanged puzzled glances and then we all headed to my car. As I helped Clara into the passenger seat, I was glad I’d decided to bring the sedan instead of the truck. Katie settled into the seat Mom had shoved into my car this morning as I walked around to slide into the driver’s side, and soon, Clara’s scent filled the car as we moved toward the restaurant and I struggled to find words.
Half Full wasn’t a big town, but it did have a developed downtown area that drew people from most of the neighboring areas, thanks to a variety of bars, restaurants, and even a new club.
“Good weekend?” I asked Clara, hoping to start us off on a very civil foot for the evening.
“So far, so good,” she said, giving me very little to work with. “You?”
“Yeah. Nice to be back. And I managed to get some homework handled, so—” Shit. Why did I tell her that? I’d told literally no one that I was back in school.
“Homework?”
“I, uh...” memories swamped me then, of Clara at our kitchen table watching me battle algebra problems with no luck at all. Watching me practically melt down with the effort. Watching me reveal the truth I’d been hiding since then—that I had very little working for me upstairs. “It’s not a big deal. Forget I said anything. What have you been up to?”
She was quiet just a beat too long, and then Katie piped up. “I hate homework. Homework is for chumps and losers.”
Clara turned around in her seat. “Who told you that?”
“Curt Andrews.”
“Well, Curt Andrews is a chump and a loser if he thinks that,” I suggested.
“Curt Andrews is six,” Clara told me, sounding disappointed in me for maligning a child.
“Homework is important,” I tried again, suddenly desperate for Clara not to be mad at me. At least not yet.
“Sly is right,” Clara said, lighting a little glow in my chest. “Doing the work now sets you up for the future. Even Sly was doing homework this weekend.” I hated that little “even” she threw in there. Like I was a cautionary tale.
“Mom worked from home yesterday and then today we got manicures and Mom got parts of herself waxed that we don’t talk about.” Katie whispered this last part and I worked to maintain a neutral expression. Clara getting things waxed was something I was finding it hard to think about without certain parts of my body trying to get involved in the consideration.
Clara sighed. “So, Katie. When I said we didn’t talk about it, I meant, like right now. With other people.”
“It’s only Siiiilllllvesssssterrrr.”
I shot a smile at Clara, but she didn’t return it.
So much for gentlemanly small talk. And since I was driving, getting blazingly drunk wasn’t an option. This was going to be a long evening.
Actually, it was going to be a long summer.
CHAPTER8
