The Summer Getaway: A Novel(3)

Once she was home, she quickly texted her ex, asking him to stop by that evening. Within seconds, he answered with, What did I do now?

She ignored the question.

Six works for me. See you then.

She thought about texting Harlow and asking her about her father dating Zafina, but decided that wasn’t a good idea. Based on her daughter’s silence on the subject, she would guess Harlow didn’t know. Better to find out if it was a weekend fling that could be ignored or something that was going to blow up in their faces.

“Dammit, Cord,” she muttered, wondering why, four years after their divorce, she was still dealing with his messes.

In the kitchen, she got out ingredients for a citrus marinade. Once she’d juiced the oranges and the limes, she chopped basil before turning her attention to the chicken pieces. She carefully removed the skin and any visible fat. While she’d always tried to provide healthy meals for her family, since she’d started dating Jase, she’d become even more aware of the food she prepared.

She put the chicken and marinade into a large resealable plastic bag. She’d just finished when Austin, her youngest, walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom,” he said, stretching before slumping onto one of the bar stools by the large island. His dark blond hair fell into his eyes. He was tall and lean, with that too-skinny look teenaged boys had. Sometime in the next couple of years he would start to fill out.

“You’re home early.”

“It was only a six-hour fishing charter.”

“That’s why you were gone before sunrise.”

“I had to be on board by five thirty.”

“Pesky fish and their timetables.”

Austin flashed her a grin. “I blame the fishermen.”

“Them, too.”

Austin, barely eighteen and a recent high school graduate, eyed the plastic bag. “More chicken?”

“It’s healthy.”

“Did you have to start dating a cardiologist? All we ever have is chicken and fish.”

She held in a smile. “That’s not true. Last week I made vegetarian enchiladas.”

“I know, but I try not to think about it. Couldn’t you start seeing a guy who owns a rib place? That would be better for me.”

“It’s not bad for you to learn to eat healthy. You won’t be eighteen forever.”

“I’m figuring I’ll be eighteen for about a year.”

She laughed. “I think you’re right. You hungry?”

“Always.”

She cleaned up, then walked to the refrigerator. “Isn’t there leftover Thai?” A takeout dinner she and Austin had shared. Something they would only have when Jase wasn’t coming over.

“I had it for breakfast.”

“There’s still some of the poached salmon. I could heat that and put together a salad.”

Austin made a gagging noise in the back of his throat. “I want something good.”

His tone made him sound like he was eight instead of eighteen. If only that were true, she thought, remembering how easy things had been when he’d been younger. Austin was a go along to get along kid. He was even-tempered, thoughtful and affectionate. Unfortunately he was also stubborn, so when he’d said he wasn’t going to college and instead would work for his dad, no amount of chiding, persuading or threatening had changed his mind.

She inspected the refrigerator contents. “Grilled cheese and coleslaw?”

“Yes, please.”

“Even though dinner’s in two hours?”

“Like I won’t be hungry then, too.”

She collected three kinds of cheese, along with butter and bread. She’d made the coleslaw that morning. Jase wouldn’t approve, but she would grill vegetables along with the chicken so he could eat those and ignore the creamy goodness of her coleslaw.

She sliced the cheese, then buttered the bread before heating a pan.

“I’m moving out Saturday,” Austin said as she assembled the sandwich.

“You’ve mentioned that.”

“Into my own apartment.”

She pressed her lips together to keep from saying he was too young. He would point out that he was eighteen now, an adult. Working for his father gave him a nice paycheck. He could afford an apartment and had decided he was ready to be on his own. But being the right age was not the same as being a mature adult. Not that telling him that would make a difference.

She also wasn’t going to mention that she wasn’t ready for him to go or that she liked having him around, although both were true. Guilting her kids had never been her thing.

She used a spatula to lower the sandwich into the pan. “What are you doing about furniture? You have your bedroom set, but what about other stuff? A sofa? A table and chairs?” She mentally ran through the contents of the house, wondering what she was willing to give up. “Are you renting a moving van or something?”

“I don’t need anything, Mom. The place is furnished.”

“What? Why would you rent a furnished place? It’s so much more expensive.”

“I didn’t want to deal with moving stuff back and forth. It’s only for four months.”

She pressed down on the sandwich. “Four months? The move is temporary?”

“Sure. Come on, Mom. I’m barely eighteen. I’m not ready to adult full-time. I’m getting a place for the summer so I can have a good time with my friends before they go off to college. You know, like a four-month party. The rent’s cheap because it’s not the tourist season. I got a great deal, and it’s going to be awesome.”