Sisters by Choice (Blackberry Island #4)(14)

“It’s breath and movement and centering yourself. I love it, and you will, too. Besides, Dugan, the instructor, is totally hot and I think he’s single and you need to get laid.”

“Get laid? What are we—sixteen-year-old boys?”

“I’m not wrong.”

“I don’t want a man. I’m not ready for that, either.”

“I’m not asking you to fall in love. I’m saying you need a yummy distraction and Dugan is certainly that. Plus, I want to hear the details. I’ve been married my entire adult life. I need to live vicariously through someone and you’re my best option.”

“I feel so special.”

“You should. So Sunday at nine.”

Sophie laughed. “Sure. Then I’ll take him back to my place and make a man out of him.”

“That’s my girl.”



Chapter Four


Kristine was pretty sure she hadn’t been born organized, but having three kids in less than five years, not to mention several great lessons from her mother, had taught her the importance of developing the skill. Some days were easier than others, but on the busiest ones, a plan was required. Her challenging day ran from Thursday afternoon until bedtime on Friday.

She started right after lunch with a trip to the big-box store on the mainland to stock up on baking supplies. When she got home, she checked on the stew she’d started in the Crock-Pot right after breakfast and then put everything away. No after-school activities were allowed on Thursday. It was home directly after school to get homework and chores done before dinner.

By five she had the salad made and the ingredients for cheddar biscuits on the counter. She separated egg yolks from egg whites and saved the former to use in a custard over the weekend. After chopping green onions and measuring flour, butter and shredded cheddar cheese, she checked the schedule on the refrigerator.

“Grant,” she yelled up the stairs. “Time to make biscuits.”

All three boys appeared in the kitchen.

“Are you sure it’s his turn?” JJ asked, walking to check the schedule himself. “He got to help last time.”

“I went last time,” Tommy said. “You went the time before.”

“Everyone gets the same number of turns. We rotate for a reason. Now, shoo.”

Tommy and JJ grumbled as they retreated. Grant carefully washed his hands and stood by the stove.

“I’m ready, Mom.”

“I can see that.”

While she would love to think it was her sparkling company that had the boys so anxious to help her in the kitchen, she knew the real appeal lay in the professional-grade stand mixer she’d wrestled onto the counter. She appreciated its work ethic and reliability, but the boys loved the roar of its engine and how it was Terminator-like in its relentless pursuit of turning disparate ingredients into a smooth, pliable blend.

She poured water into a stainless-steel pot, then added butter and cayenne pepper. Grant watched the mixture, stirring it occasionally.

“There are bubbles, Mom!”

“Excellent. Is the butter melted?”

“Not yet. Almost.” He stirred a few more times. “It’s melted!”

She took the pot off the heat and beat in flour. After dumping the dough into the stand mixer bowl, she smiled at Grant.

“It’s all yours, my man.”

“I got it, Mom. I got it!”

He carefully lowered the mixer and locked it into place, then turned it on. The whole eggs were added one at a time, then the egg whites. By the time that was done, she’d prepped two cookie sheets and started on the boys’ lunches.

Grant left the dough to cool and raced back to his bedroom. Tommy wandered in to set the table while JJ started watching for his father.

The dance was a familiar one, she thought. On other nights, when there were games and school meetings or Jaxsen had to rush out to meet the guys on his bowling league, things were hectic, but Thursdays were quieter. At least until dinner was done.

“Dad’s home!” JJ yelled from the front of the house. Seconds later she heard the front door open then bang into the wall. Grant shrieked and ran down the stairs. Tommy finished setting out flatware before joining his brothers.

Kristine whipped the sliced green onions and cheddar cheese into the dough and started dropping spoonfuls onto the cookie sheets. Jaxsen walked in, all three boys hanging on him.

“Look what I found outside,” he said, crossing to her and kissing her. “Can we keep them?”

“I don’t know. Do we have room?”

“We do. Oh, come on. Let me keep them. I’ll take good care of them, I swear.”

The boys laughed uproariously as if they hadn’t heard the joke a thousand times before. Kristine briefly thought that it would be nice if Jaxsen was telling the truth and he really would take care of the boys. Not that he didn’t help, but their responsibilities were clearly defined. Jaxsen worked hard on the state road crew and he brought in the money. Everything else was on her. After all, she was a stay-at-home mom. What else did she have to do with her day?

Kristine slid the cookie sheets into the oven.

“Twenty-one minutes, people. We have twenty-one minutes.”

The boys ran out of the kitchen. Jaxsen leaned against the counter.

“How was your day?” she asked.