“In case of what?”
“In case you need it for an attorney.” She grunted as she hefted the turkey back into the oven. I knew better than to offer to help her. Mom liked to handle some things herself. Holiday dinners—cooking and feeding her family—was a job we would only pry from her cold dead fingers. The sole reason she was letting me prep the beans was because that was a job I couldn’t screw up. “Is Steven’s lawyer still pestering you?”
I snapped the head off a pod. “It’s fine, Ma. I can handle it.”
“I thought Steven had agreed to weekly visitation.”
“He wants the kids every Friday afternoon through Monday morning now that he has a house.”
My mother made a disgusted noise, dropping a cutting board on the table and slamming down a knife. Joint custody wasn’t as bad as the full custody he’d been fighting for when he and Theresa had been ready to tie the knot. But it was still three nights away from home in another county, instead of a few blocks down the street. “He’s a monster,” she said, chopping parsley with a vengeance.
“He’s not a monster. He’s just angry.” Angry, because his relationship with Theresa hadn’t worked out. Because his business was struggling after five bodies had been exhumed from his farm. Because I was finally making enough money to support myself and the kids without him.
“Because of this young man you’re seeing?”
And maybe that.
The fact that I was seeing someone had been a nagging thorn in Steven’s side. He liked to pluck it out and turn it on me, calling Guy every week with some new plan to slowly whittle away at my custody.
My mother raised an eyebrow. “Georgia says this man you’re seeing works part time. That he’s still in school.”
“Graduate school.”
“He’s too young for you. You should be dating someone closer to your own age. Someone stable who can provide for you and the children.”
“Ican provide for me and the children.”
“If you had a husband, Steven wouldn’t be threatening to take the kids. He wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.”
I pushed away the bowl of murdered beans. “Why are you and Dad always nagging me to find a husband? You never nag Georgia about finding a wife.”
“Georgia has health insurance and retirement benefits.”
I heaved a sigh and dropped my head in my hand. I had no answer for that.
“What about that nice man who works with your sister?” My mother stirred the air with her ladle, conjuring his name. “The tall one with dark hair whose partner had cancer. I met him once, years ago, when he and Georgia graduated from the Academy together. He’s very handsome,” she said, pitching her voice low as if this was some scandalous announcement. “And he’s Catholic.”
I lifted the beer to my lips to hide my blush. Detective Nicholas Anthony was, indeed, very handsome. He was also a helluva kisser. But my mother didn’t need any more fodder for her marriage fantasies. It’d been a month since Nick had shown up on my front porch with a bottle of champagne and a chagrined apology for suspecting the worst of me, but my argument with him still needled me. I hated that even though my motives had been innocent, to some degree, Nick had been right. I’d lied to him to keep myself out of trouble, and I hadn’t gotten around to forgiving myself for that.
“I’m not dating Georgia’s coworker,” I said firmly.
“Fine. Your sister says this young man you’re seeing is studying to become a lawyer. Maybehecan help you deal with this Steven problem.”
“He’s not studying that kind of law.” Julian was studying criminal law. And no, the irony of our situation was not lost on me.
“Has he met the children?”
“No.” Julian hadn’t asked to come to my home, and I hadn’t offered. We usually met at the bar where he worked. Or in his apartment. Usually in his bed, occasionally on his sofa, and once on his kitchen floor. I got up and snagged another beer from the fridge, my head lingering in the open door to hide my incriminating flush. Julian and I weren’t serious. I wasn’t sure exactly what we were. Only that I enjoyedhis company and the sex was amazing. I didn’t really want anything else right now. I had Vero, the kids, and a steady paycheck. That’s all I really needed besides the occasional mind-blowing orgasm.
“Even more of a reason to put some money in savings, Finlay. A single woman can never be too prepared. You should have a nest egg.”
“My nest is just fine,” I said, closing the fridge and popping the cap off my beer. I didn’t need any more mob money, dead bodies, or problem husbands—mine or anyone else’s.
The swing doors to the kitchen burst open and my sister came through, fully suited in SWAT gear, carrying Zach under one arm. A bead of sweat trailed down her temple through the open faceplate of her helmet. “Situation resolved,” she said, dumping a tightly rolled diaper in the trash can as Zach wriggled out of her arms and toddled toward the living room. She dropped into the chair beside me and dragged off her helmet.
“I knew you could handle it.”
“It was definitely touch-and-go for a while. When are you going to start potty training that kid? And what’s all this about Career Day at Delia’s school?”
