Blessed Twice Read online

  “I’m okay, big guy. I’m so sorry I scared you.” I kissed his cheek and tilted my face to look at Hank. “Sorry, kiddo.”

  “You’re lucky M’s quick or you mighta hit your head.” Hank knelt beside us. His hand reached out to rub the back of my thanks-to-M uninjured head.

  “She caught me, huh?”

  “Better than a wide receiver,” he confirmed.

  “Well, I’m sorry I caused so much trouble. I don’t know what happened,” I lied confidently.

  “My big mouth,” Caleb mumbled. “I shoulda thought. I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t use my head.”

  His apology set off another bout of rapid breathing. “It’s all right, sweetie. You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

  “What’s wrong? What’d you say, Caleb?” Hank asked innocently.

  “We can’t go on the rock wall.”

  “Why not? Looks fun.”

  “It’s dangerous. My other mom fell when she was rock climbing. She died.”

  Oh God, he said it. I tipped my head back, hoping the angle would help get in more air. My eyes caught the motion of M’s hand to her heart and a quick intake of breath.

  Hank looked curiously at his friend. “Your other mom?”

  “Why don’t we let Briony get comfortable up on the bench?” M interrupted. “What do you say, guys? Let’s help her get up.” She leaned down toward me, but the boys grasped my arms and pulled with their combined might. I resettled on the bench with a regretful look at M. She shouldn’t have to deal with a mental breakdown. “Feeling better?” she whispered then reached into her pocket to hand some money to the kids. “Head over to that stand and grab Briony a bottle of water, will ya, fellas?” Caleb hesitated only a second. “Okay.” They dashed to the vender cart ten feet away.

  “I’m sorry about all this.” I knew it wouldn’t suffice, but I had to say something. How embarrassing to pass out after having a perfectly innocent conversation with the kids. She had to think I was nuts.

  “You’re holding up well, I’d say. I’m sorry to hear about…Caleb’s other mom.”

  I shook my head, helping to clear some of the haziness. “Her name was Megan, and it’s been three years. I thought I’d worked through it.”

  “Your son wanted to try something that killed your spouse. You can’t work through something like that, especially when it comes up at such an unexpected time and place.” I leaned my head back on the bench and breathed deeply. She was right. This had little to do with losing Meg and everything to do with the fear of losing Caleb. That knowledge helped ease some of the humiliation. “You’re right.”

  “Here, Mom.” A water bottle appeared in front of my face.

  I twisted the cap and took a swig for appearances. “Thanks.” As much as I hadn’t thought it was necessary, the water helped quell some of the swirling sensations. I took two more swallows and felt much better. Maybe dehydration had helped spur this on.

  I pulled Caleb onto my knee and reached for Hank to bring him to my other knee. “Sorry I took a dive, guys. I know how scary that must have looked. Thanks for getting the water for me. It was exactly what I needed. Maybe we should stop for a snack before we move on to the next ride. What do you say?”

  “You mean you still want to go on rides?” Caleb asked.

  “We don’t have to go home?” Hank looked so hopeful.

  “Not unless you guys want to head home. I thought there were some more rides to hit yet?”

  “Yay!” the boys cheered. Caleb turned back and kissed my cheek before catapulting off my knee. Hank gave me a one-armed squeeze around the neck and followed his friend.

  “How could you have two moms?” he asked Caleb.

  I froze in my effort to stand and turned to M, not wanting to take responsibility for explaining family units to a child who wasn’t mine. She wore a similar expression, probably weighing how much detail to tell a ten-year-old.

  Before either of us could say anything, Caleb answered,

  “Mom’s gay, so I got two moms instead of a mom and a dad.” Well, that was easy.

  “Oh.” Hank stared at his friend then shrugged. “You’re lucky. Two moms would be cool.” His tone was as carefree as when he talked about the latest video game. “Hey, can we get some popcorn?” He looked up at M, who shook herself slightly before handing over more money. I slipped some cash into Caleb’s hand and instructed him to get some drinks to go with the popcorn.

  They darted off to the nearest cart to place an order.

  A little dazed from their conversation, I turned a questioning glance at M. She shrugged as easily as Hank had and said, “Kids.” This time, it did explain everything.

  Chapter 12

  "When do we get the dough?” Avery called out from his seat as I was jotting notes on the white board before the first class of summer session. A rumble of nervous laughter filtered through the room.

  “Whoa, two profs for the price of one,” a lanky student in the first row commented as M strode through the door.

  She gave a silent chuckle and bounced her gaze around the half full room. This was probably the smallest class she’d ever been in charge of, but we’d purposely limited the class size for this symposium. Her glance landed on me last with a shy smile.

  We hadn’t had any time to ourselves for the rest of the day or evening last Friday. I still felt embarrassed for fainting and mortified that she’d broken my fall. When she’d dropped us back at Hank’s house to pick up my car, she smiled and said goodnight then waited until we made it inside before driving off. No mention of my drama, nor did she mention whether or not she had a good time. I thought she had, but it might have become too much to handle with the talk of dead spouses, fainting spells and all.

  “Good morning, Professor Gatewood,” she spoke in her confident, friendly professor voice. Her linen pantsuit draped impeccably on her frame, but I couldn’t help picturing the jeans and fitted polo she’d worn to the amusement park. A varied array of appearances and mannerisms, I figured even after a few years I probably wouldn’t know all of them.

  “Good morning, Professor Desiderius,” I responded in kind, suddenly glad I went with a suit also, mine with a tan skirt and darker tan jacket.

  The bell sounded and the last two students rushed inside as M took up a position beside me to address them. “Good morning, class. For those of you who haven’t taken one of our courses before, I’m Professor Desiderius.” She looked to me then.

  “And I’m Professor Gatewood. We’re going to be running this symposium together and acting as your advisory committee chairs.”

  “You all have a syllabus, one or the other of us will be leading the lecture two days a week,” M picked up where I’d left off. “The rest of this course is self-application.”

  “Tag-team professoring,” Avery joked, garnering laughs from the crowd. “Is that even a word?”

  “No,” I informed him drolly.

  “We’ve inadvertently left a book off your syllabus. You’ll want to add it to the list.” M’s comment sparked a groan from the crowd, but they all picked up their pens to jot down the title. “A dictionary, any edition will do. Buy it, learn it, live it.” We all laughed at her joke, but I marveled at the dry delivery.

  She’d just ratcheted up the ladder of my admiration. Dry humor was very hard to master. Not surprisingly, it was my favorite kind.

  “Hey, Av, is your butt a little sore? ‘Cause Professor D just spanked you, dude,” another rangy looking guy taunted Avery good-naturedly.

  “You’ll be presenting your business proposals starting next week,” I brought everyone back on track. “The dean and several other professors have formed a selection committee to decide on the funding elements.”

  “We’ve written up notes on each of your drafts,” M informed them and began stepping up and through the tiers to hand back the proposals. “You’ve got two classes and the time in between to perfect these. This class has nothing to do with impressing your instructors or getting
a good grade. If your idea is successful, forget about preparing for interviews and floundering until you find a job. This will be your job.” The weight of M’s words settled over the students. Before it had only been a class, now we’d just unleashed their competitive nature.

  I waited until the excitement passed so they could focus their competitive fire. “Only five proposals will be funded. There are twenty of you in this room.”

  Heads twisted right and left before a loud, “Whoa!” sounded from the back row.

  “Ah, a math genius,” M joked, setting off a few snickers.

  “Yes, that means if your proposal is not funded, you’ll be working on the executive team of another funded company.”

  “No way!” a petite woman to my right spoke up.

  “Any one of the 200 rejected proposals would love to take an open space in this class.” M had finished handing out the marked up proposals and joined me back up front. “This is a decision that you’ll need to make before noon tomorrow. If you can’t agree to lead or work on someone else’s team, send us an email. We’ll produce a withdrawal slip for the registrar’s office. If you move forward and find that you can’t complete the requirements, you will not receive a passing grade.”

  “That seems harsh,” Gary, one of my first-year students, commented.

  “You’re right. It is,” I agreed. “But you’re all taking up a spot that hundreds of others wanted. It wouldn’t be fair to issue withdrawals when it’s too late to fill the slot with another enterprising student.”

  Their eyes bugged a bit at the required commitment. None of my students had ever withdrawn, and I was betting that none of M’s students had either; but when that was no longer a safety net, things got suddenly very serious.

  They seemed to be absorbing the information as slowly as an already damp paper towel, so I made a quick decision. “Why don’t you all take ten minutes to read through the notes we’ve provided on your proposals. When we get back, we’ll start working through the best methods for tightening them up.” A few of them nodded, but the rest still looked a little dazed. “Please use this time wisely.”

  I started toward the hallway and tipped my head at M. She looked momentarily puzzled but followed even though we hadn’t planned a break for another hour. I waited to explain until we’d moved farther away from the classroom. “They needed some time to whine about the fact that three quarters of them will be working on someone else’s idea rather than their own.” M started bobbing her head. “Not to mention time to deal with the permanence of the class.”

  “Exactly.”

  She smiled broadly, having forgotten to turn off her confident professor demeanor with me like she usually did. “That was effortless.”

  “And fun,” I agreed. While we both planned to be in every class until the proposals were delivered and decided upon, we hadn’t given thought to who’d talk when in those joint classes. I hadn’t expected the tag-team effect, as Avery coined, but it had been effortless. Everything I thought to say next, she stepped in to add. It felt like my own safety net for this class. “I’m glad you ‘volunteered’ for this, M.”

  She smiled but her gaze turned serious as she locked eyes with me. “I’m happy to be involved, and glad to be working with you as well, Briony.”

  Something stirred through my abdomen. At first, I thought the dizziness from the other day might have returned, but this was an entirely pleasant feeling. Nothing at all to do with panic. “Me, too, Maria.” Her lips pressed together, trying to suppress a smile.

  “Magdalena? Marcella? Meryl? Mirabel? C’mon, I’m running out of acceptable Latin options.”

  She blasted me with a radiant smile. “Let’s go halt the grumble session and put these kids to work.”

  Chapter 13

  My friends’ daughter, Zalika, was in for a long night. Caleb worshipped her, followed her everywhere, and hung on her every word. Whereas Zalika, three years older, treated him like an annoying kid brother. Her parents, Isabel and Kayin, thought it was a riot and always encouraged me to bring Caleb to the Sunday night dinners whenever their daughter would be there. On the adoration scale, Zalika rated even higher than Quinn and Willa’s dogs, and Caleb loved dogs.

  “Zalika wants to shoot some hoop, Mom. Call when dinner’s ready, ‘kay?” he asked in a manner that said he was as grownup as Zalika and didn’t really need permission.

  “Did you ask Quinn or Willa if you could use their basketball court first?”

  His whole face lit up. “Yeah, Quinn even said she’d give us some pointers later.”

  “Lucky you, bucko. Have fun.” I resisted the urge to pat his bottom as he walked by, a reverent two steps behind Zalika.

  “That’s a great kid, Bri,” Sam shared wistfully. She and Caroline had stopped trying to get pregnant through In Vitro and had started contemplating adoption. Something seemed to be holding them back, though. I was keeping my fingers crossed that it was simply a desire to go through a pregnancy rather than a niggling thought that adopting a baby wouldn’t be the same as having Caroline’s own baby. I’d never thought that way, even before I’d become an adoptive parent. Caleb was my son whether he was Megan’s blood or mine or neither.

  “Thanks, I like him.” I bit my lip to hold back the smile.

  Caroline grinned when I lost the battle. “Did you ever want more?”

  “I never wanted one,” I replied before I remembered that my dark humor might startle them. “I mean, it was Megan who was gung-ho on the idea, which made the decision pretty easy for me. I have to admit I’ve grown up with him.”

  “I find it hard to believe you were ever less together than you are now,” Isabel complimented, or I thought it was a compliment.

  “Believe me, I had a lot to learn about being a mom, but it’s been worth it. Not that I need to tell you.” She had three more years of experience with Zalika.

  The doorbell rang and the last of the friends, Jessie and Lauren, arrived to officially start this week’s Sunday night dinner.

  While I was invited every week, I managed to space out my attendance to once a month, sometimes longer. I really liked these women, but large groups intimidated. Ironic, seeing as I was a professor, but hey, I’m a puzzle.

  “Hey, Briony,” Jessie greeted when she got to my place in the circle of friends.

  “Hi, Jess.”

  “Did you warn her?” Lauren asked, stepping up behind her partner.

  “Laur!” half the group hissed at her.

  My spine snapped straight, hackles raised. “Warn me about what?”

  “They invited someone to dinner,” Jessie responded in a regretful tone.

  “An available, cute someone,” another of the friends, Skye told me in her endearing Australian accent.

  “We tried to stop them,” Jessie insisted when she noticed my eyes growing wide and checking for the nearest exits.

  “You’re setting me up on a date?” I turned my most threatening stare on the group. Four of them, Willa, Quinn, Jessie, and Lauren threw their hands up as if to say, “Don’t blame me.” The rest looked entirely too pleased with themselves.

  “She’s coming to a dinner party,” Isabel let me know with an innocence that wouldn’t fool even the most gullible among us.

  I scoffed, completely flabbergasted that they’d make this move without telling me. “Does she think she’s coming here for a dinner party or a blind date?” I turned my question to Jessie, knowing she’d tell me the truth.

  Unfortunately, Des, a.k.a. the loudmouth, responded first.

  “We might have mentioned that our beautiful, single, very available, desperately in need of a date friend would be joining us at the dinner party.”

  “You guys, I can’t believe you did this!” I exclaimed and took several steps backward. “I can’t believe you did this on a night when my son is here. What were you thinking?” Most had the decency to look suitably chastised. It suddenly dawned on them that it might be difficult for a boy to watch his mother be
on what he thought was the first date after his other mother had died. I’d never told him about my dating attempts with Jessie. Something deep inside told me that it wouldn’t work out, so I never had to ease him into the idea.

  “Oh,” one of them managed.

  “Yeah, ‘oh’. I’ve got to get out of here.” I started toward the door.

  “No, don’t leave!” three of them exclaimed until Isabel took over. “We’ll pull her aside, give her the skinny.”

  “What are you going to tell her? ‘Gee, I know we invited you to meet our loser friend who can’t get her own date, which is why we’re butting into her life; but, hey, her kid’s here, and he might be a little upset to see his mom showing romantic interest in someone who isn’t his other mommy?’ ” I knew my biting retort sounded harsh, but damn, they’d ticked me off.

  While I apparently had Caleb’s go-ahead to start dating, having a date in front of him might be testing that consent. When I was ready to start dating, I knew I’d have to tread carefully. Tell him only after I’d been on several successful dates, arrange a brief first meeting, then an innocent outing with no displays of affection, then ease him into the affection bit by bit.

  A long silence ensued with guilty glances bouncing from couple to couple. “I’ll show you to the back drive. It comes out next to our house a street away,” Jessie offered. She didn’t sound guilty. Like every other surprising moment with her, she just understood.

  “No, don’t go,” Caroline pleaded. “We’re sorry, Briony. We only want you to be happy. It’s true we weren’t thinking when we invited Erin on a night that you brought Caleb, but this doesn’t have to be a date. Just meet her.”

  The doorbell rang, and I went completely rigid. I hated being cornered. I threw a desperate look at Jessie, the only one who seemed to understand my panic, but it was Lauren who reached for my hand. “C’mon, we’ll go get Caleb and walk around the other side of the house to collect your car. I’ll show you the way to the back drive.”