His Princess (A Royal Romance)(79)

They’re a little scorched, but they’re still good. I turn down the heat and roll them around a bit to make sure they’re actually hot in the middle and not just burned on the outside, while Karen lays out buns.

They didn’t do such a bad job. I need to stir the mac and cheese a bit. The cheese powder got a little lumpy. At least they didn’t burn the house down. I want to be home to meet them but I have to work to buy them food. They’re not the only latchkey kids at school. That’s what I tell myself.

Karen, my oldest, is fourteen. I had her when I was still in college. Her father, my ex, was one of my professors. Since I got pregnant by him, I had to quit to save his job. That was nice of you, Russel. Kelly came along four years later, and a few years after that I guess I was too worn out for him and he decided to trade up for a new model. After taking half his coeds out for a test drive first.

If anything good came of my marriage, it’s these two. Karen makes me the most nervous. She’s starting high school this year and she looks so much like me when I was her age. It feels like a million years ago.

Kelly is such a kid. All she wants is to eat more mac and cheese. I can’t help but smile as she piles half the pot on her plate. I don’t know where she puts it all. She’s as skinny as a reed.

“Did you see the guy?” Karen asks.

“What guy?”

She chews her hot dog thoughtfully. “Next door.”

Not this again. I sigh.

“Yes, I saw him. He’s obnoxious and rude.”

“And hot!”

“Karen.” I put a hint of warning in my voice.

“You talked to him? What’s he like?”

Sighing, I rub the back of my hand against my temple. “Obnoxious. Rude.”

“Hot.”

“Karen,” I growl.

“Fine, fine. Maybe you should give him a chance?”

Another sigh escapes my throat. Better to let her drop it or hope something distracts her.

“Kelly, not so much salt on the mac and cheese, okay?”

Kelly gives me a sullen look, pushes the salt shaker back to the middle of the table, and starts shoveling yellowish noodle globs into her mouth.

Karen is giving me that look.

Ever since Russel filed for divorce, she’s been pushing me to find a boyfriend. I barely have time to eat and sleep, much less time to date.

I don’t think I even remember how. I was never even in a relationship before Russel. I have kids. I don’t need a man. I’ve written it out of my life. Karen just can’t understand that. She’s got her head full of these silly ideas about romance and love. I’ve been catching her reading cheesy romance novels lately. One time I found her reading a book called Knocked Up by the Bad Boy. She’s a fan of Vanessa Waltz, whoever that is. I really shouldn’t let her read that stuff. She’s not old enough.

I mean, really.

“What did you talk about?”

“What?”

“What did you—”

“I heard you,” I sigh. “I went over to talk to him about his car. He’s going to get it towed if he keeps it in the driveway.”

“That’s a dumb rule.”

“I know, but it’s still a rule.”

“What did he say?”

“He wasn’t happy to hear it. He slammed the door in my face.”

“Jeez, Mom. You need a better opener than, ‘Hey, move your car.’”

“I don’t need an opener, Karen. I’m not interested in this guy. I didn’t know he existed until I got home from work.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” she says, her voice turning sour. “Whatever. I have homework.”

“You’re excused,” I say, as she’s already walking upstairs.

“Can I have the rest of the mac and cheese?” Kelly chirps.

I nod and watch her devour it, chewing on another crusty hot dog before I’ve had enough and my youngest daughter helps me clean up the mess. Once I’ve got her ready for bed I take a shower, dry off, and crawl into my own bed.

My alarm goes off at 4:45.

I sit up and try to walk, rather than crawl, down to the kitchen. I need to have both kids to the bus by 6:30. In his infinite wisdom Russel put us so far from the “good schools” the realtor crowed about that my kids have to ride the bus almost an hour each way, longer if there’s traffic.

Thanks, Russ.

First order of business is preparing food. I want my kids to have a good breakfast, so I cook eggs and sausage myself, and pour breakfast cereal for Kelly, which she devours first.

When they’re both fed I walk with them down to the front gate, where the bus stops, and pace around waiting for them to be picked up. They ride the same bus, thankfully. When it pulls up I feel the same pang I feel every time when they board and wave to me, and choke up a little walking back to the house.

Once I’m back inside I shower again quickly, since it was a sweaty walk down to the bus stop, and dress for work.

I have twenty-five minutes to make the bus, which will be cutting it a little close.

Briskly I storm out of my house, run back up to lock the door, then run back, hoping I’ll make it.

Then some * sprays me with a hose.





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