* * *
Hours later, Jenny sat at her computer researching quaint bed and breakfast places, when her mom texted her.
Mom: If you’ve got coffee, I’ll share my doughnuts.
Jenny: Front door’s open.
Mom knew Jenny could always be bribed with doughnuts. Wonder what she wants.
Mom: Be there in fifteen.
Jenny made a fresh pot of coffee and took two mugs out of the cabinet as the front door opened. Ritz charged the entryway, beside herself with joy that they had company. She whined, yipped, and wiggled under Mom’s attention.
Jenny wrinkled her face as she took the box of doughnuts Mom handed her. “It’s disgusting. You’d think that dog never got any attention.”
“Poor, ignored pup.” Mom gave Ritz a final pat, then followed Jenny into the kitchen where she washed her hands. Jenny arranged the doughnuts on a glass plate. Sugar, glazed, and Bavarian cream, all her favorites. And then there were the devil’s food chocolate ones, too.
Oh my God. She closed her eyes to savor the sweet smell of doughnuts and coffee. Was there anything better? Almost orgasmic.
Jenny handed Mom a mug and pushed the creamer across the granite for her to help herself as she rounded the counter and took a stool. She blew on her coffee and then took a sip.
“Fresh doughnuts? Has to be a bribe.” She raised her eyebrows and looked sideways at her mom. “What’d you volunteer me for this time?”
The last time Mom brought her doughnuts, she’d volunteered Jenny to pet sit for a neighbor’s two cats and guinea pig for two weeks.
“No bribe. Okay, a little bribe, but first, we’re celebrating. To you.” She held up a sugar doughnut, and Jenny tapped her Bavarian cream against it, as if clinking glasses.
“Me? Why?”
“Michael says People Magazine bought your story on Steve.”
“Yeah, they did. It’ll be in the January issue.” She took a bite.
“That’s great. I’m so proud of you.” She looked at Jenny. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Jenny shrugged. “I didn’t want to brag. It’s not like I’m a kid running to Mommy and Daddy with a good report card.”
“You’re never too old to celebrate accomplishments. Families share the highs and the lows. We celebrate Dad’s promotions; we want to share in your good news, too. Next time, it’d be nice if you told us and we didn’t have to find out secondhand.”
“Okay.” That Mom assumed there would be a next time pleased Jenny.
“While we’re on the topic of successes…I have to tell you, you’ve really surprised me these past couple of years. You were right, and I was wrong. You and Gabe are perfect for each other.” Eyes wide and smiling, she shook her head. “It seems that Gabe truly was the impetus you needed to grow up. You’ve blossomed into a responsible, successful young woman, and I’m so proud of you I could burst.”
“Aw, thanks, Mom.” Jenny smiled, slipped off the stool, and gave her a big hug. She’d worked hard and waited a long time to hear that.
“You’re a successful journalist, and then you’ve made this lovely house a home, for not only you and Gabe, but Alex and Ted, and all of us. Anybody who walks in the front door feels welcome and comfortable, and that’s because of you.” Mom poked a stiff finger her way. “And somehow you managed to still be available for Alex and Ted.”
“Yeah, I know it’s the grandkids that really turned you around,” Jenny teased to lighten the mood. Mom was starting to go a little overboard on the accolades.
She smiled softly. “I do love those kids. And Gabe. He’s been nothing but welcoming and caring to us—and his going in to stitch up Dad that Saturday was above and beyond. But best of all, he clearly cherishes you. And that’s what matters most to me.” She pursed her lips. “You chose well, honey.”
“Thank you.” Jenny’s eyes narrowed on her mom. “Now back to the bribe. What’d you sign me up for this time?” She winced. “Please, not some fundraising committee at Michael’s school. I hate fundraisers.”
“I didn’t volunteer you for anything. But it does have to do with Michael.”
Mom polished off her doughnut, and wiped her hands on a napkin. She took a long drink of coffee, put down the mug, and looked at Jenny. “Dad has to go to Ireland for a week next month for business, and I want to go with him and make a vacation out of it.”
“That sounds like fun. You should totally do it.”
“Can Michael stay with you?”
She blinked. “You want Michael to stay with us? For a week?”
Granted, he’d be in school, but Jenny’d have to drive him to school and pick him up, then get him to after-school events, make sure he did his homework, feed him, monitor his social time, make sure he didn’t stay up all night playing video games…for a week.
“Or two.” Mom winced. “Maybe three? Would you mind very much? Dad and I haven’t been away alone for years, and our fortieth anniversary’s coming up, and I’ve always wanted to see Ir—”
“Go!” Jenny grinned. “Of course, we’ll watch him. Go. Have fun.”
“You should ask Gabe first.”
Jenny waved a dismissing hand. “He’ll be fine with it. Gabe loves having Michael around.”
“You’re sure?” Mom’s face relaxed in relief and excitement shone in her eyes.
“Positive. But are you?” Mom really trusted her to take care of Michael for weeks? Jenny hesitated to bring up bad memories, but she didn’t want any miscommunication, either. “If you’re going out of the country, we’ll need some sort of guardianship papers so we can authorize medical treatment for him or whatever, in an emergency.”
Mom nodded and smiled. “I think between you and Gabe, you’re more than qualified to handle any emergency that might come up.”
“Okay, then. Make those reservations.” Jenny beamed.
They chatted for another fifteen minutes about Ireland, the trip, and the distant relatives Mom wanted to look up, and then she rushed off to pick Michael up and plan their vacation.
Jenny rinsed out their mugs and put the rest of the doughnuts in a baggie. If Mom thought she was responsible enough to care for Michael while she was out of the county, she must be trustworthy enough to have her own kids. Maybe this was just another cosmic kick in the butt to have a baby.
Cosmic kick in the butt? She picked up her phone and opened the calendar app. Three days late. Three days was nothing. She’d been late before. Could be stress. Could be she marked the wrong day. Could be anything.