Only In His Sweetest Dreams(47)

“The state needs reasonable assurance that the children will have their physical and emotional needs met, yes.”

“Well.” Porsha snorted and waved a hand toward Mercedes. “Tell ‘er, Merce. The kids will be fine.”

Mercedes tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. She glanced once at Shonda’s doe eyes and then looked at her sister. “Actually,” she cleared her throat. “I was thinking the kids could stay here while you see how things work out with Ray.”

Porsha didn’t move for a couple of heartbeats, then her sandals hit the floor and she leaned forward. “‘Scuse me?”

“I want to keep custody of the kids, Porsha.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind? I’m their mother.”

“Just until you and Ray work things out. Or you get settled in your own place. And have a job. And maybe do a rehab program,” she added in a quick, merciless set of jabs.

“Did you just call me a fucking drunk?” She pushed forward to the edge of her chair.

“This isn’t just about booze.” Mercedes held out a staying hand that trembled. She could barely talk. “They just got settled in the school here—”

“School is fucking out! It’s summer. They can come with me to Phoenix and start a new school in the fall. Fuck off with talking about school.”

“They’re making friends here. They’re not two anymore. They feel it when they’re uprooted.” Mercedes briefly wondered what was happening at the general meeting, whether she would have to uproot the kids herself. She opened pleading palms to her sister. “They need stability and consistency. Having to deal with another new town, another new school, a new guy in a home that doesn’t even belong to them—”

“This is not their home. I am their home. Just because you can afford new friggin’ bunk beds instead of the ones from the thrift store does not mean you’re giving them a better home. How can she do this?” Porsha stood to confront Shonda, grabbing to secure her towel as she did. “She can’t do this, can she? You can’t let her.”

“I didn’t give Mercedes custody of your children, Porsha. The courts did. You certainly have the right to ask for that decision to be reversed.”

“I have to go to court to get my kids?” One side of her towel fell away, so she stood nearly naked, trembling with outrage and what Mercedes thought might be fear. “I’m not a fucking criminal. I’m their mother.” She whirled on Mercedes. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You can’t have kids of your own so you’re trying to steal mine.”

Even though Mercedes had known that missile would come flying at her at some point, it still landed square on her heart and exploded it into a million pieces.



Edward discovered her where she’d barricaded herself in the copy room. “I believe everyone is ready and waiting,” he said.

“Why am I always painted the villain?” Edith asked him in a low tone, still staring at the copy machine as she voiced the pain that wouldn’t stifle. “I only try to do what’s right. I’m serving my position as temporary President in the best way I know how.”

“You’re not a villain, Edith.” He took her shoulders and gently turned her to face him. “It’s our generation. It has never allowed for strong women or weak men. We are destined to be misunderstood.”

“You’re not weak, Edward. Don’t you dare say such a thing about yourself.” She set her hand in the middle of his chest. It was remarkably firm and held a heart that hadn’t suffered any arrests, according to the chit-chat they’d exchanged over ice cream with Dayton the other night. “You’re shy and caring, but not weak. Never.”

“Well, you’re certainly no villain.”

“But Mercedes is so angry with me.” The young woman’s fury had cut surprisingly deep, not just because it had been in public, but because it had been so sincere. Mercedes had hated that old prude Garvey. Edith had felt it.

“Mercedes is scared,” Edward corrected, massaging. “She loves the children and she doesn’t want to lose them, even though she feels morally bound to give them up. Much the way you don’t want to lose them, but feel it’s your duty to put their staying here with her to a vote.”

“I do. It would be a c-conflict of interest if I didn’t. But that Dayton. He needs a firm hand, but he’s a wonderful boy. So bright and such a wit. I don’t want to stop teaching him.” She pressed her knuckles to her trembling lips.

“So champion them, Edith. You might have to put it to a vote, but there’s no reason you can’t petition for the result you want.” He winked.

A glimmer of optimism rose in her. “I would love to have you sit on the board with me, Edward. Is there any chance I could persuade you to run?”

“None,” he said promptly. “But I’m very good at handing out agendas and acting as an objective resource for Robert’s Rules.” He nodded at the papers she had yet to take off the copier. “Shall I take care of distributing those while you call the meeting to order?



The weather was clear and sunny with a soft breeze.

L.C. had a root beer beside him, a practice test in hand, and some Number Two pencils balanced in the grooves of his sister’s deck. Zack was mountain biking with a friend, Paige had just left for the factory, and L.C. had the house to himself. Mostly. Brit would be here soon to pick up the babies. For now, the girls played on the grass in front of him, climbing the short, fat jungle gym and sliding down the slide, happy as spring lambs.

How Liebe Falls had turned into Mayberry in two short years, L.C. didn’t understand, but it had. Paige’s mother-in-law, a viper of the highest quality, regularly dropped off baked goods and casseroles while praising Paige’s parenting skills. The factory was making money, thanks to Paige’s accounting skills, he was sure, but Sterling probably had a few things to do with it as well. Either way, their overhaul of the main source of the town’s employment was revitalizing the community, lifting a mood of depression no one had noticed until it was gone. Even Britta’s cop husband had shaken L.C.’s hand and said it was nice to see him.

How could they all be so damned content? What L.C. wouldn’t give to hear an old fart complaining someone had nicked his parking stall with a golf cart.

Catching Elizabeth picking up a pebble, L.C. warned, “Not in your mouth, Lizzie Beth.”

The door opened behind him. He glanced to see Britta had let herself in the front and found them out the back.

“Mommy!” Lindsay said with a big grin.

“A’bee!” Elizabeth said.

“Hey babies. How you doin’?” The fringe on Brit’s blouse swayed as she lowered to sit beside L.C. on the steps. “Where’s Paige?”

“Had to see a man about a factory.”

She checked her watch. “Why aren’t you at work?”

“I’m consulting. That means I work when I feel like it.”

“And this differs from the old days, how?”

“Oooh,” he said with a little chuckle of appreciation. Talk about old times. “Is that how we’re starting the day? Because Paige puked before she left. Your husband’s going to lose his bet. I guess I should have come home sooner. At least with me, you get guaranteed results inside of three minutes.”

“You never change, do you?” She tried for contempt, but she was smug as she said, “Your assistance is not required, thank you.”

“Britta Fay, you did not just tell me your special news before you told your husband and best friend.”

She grinned wider. Prouder. “Cam knows, but Paige doesn’t. She really puked? That’s perfect, don’t you think? Both of us pregnant? A pair of boys would be nice, but we’ll take what we get.” Her dozen silver rings flashed with colorful bracelets and the pretty smile he’d fallen for back when he was a kid aching for someone to love him.

“Yeah, you’re all living happy ever after,” he said, not begrudging them the tidy perfection of their lives. Not really. It was nice. He just wished he wasn’t standing on the outside the way he always had been. It was such an enigma to him. Something he doubted he would ever truly know. Or possess.

Brit slid her smile into a questioning quirk. “Have you decided whether you’ll build over there and join us?” She jerked her chin at the property beyond Sterling and Paige’s, where his father’s house had stood before it had been burned to the ground.

Paige had had the yard reseeded and kept it mowed. There wasn’t any evidence of the only home they’d grown up in, such as that home had been. The blankness was strange, but better than the eyesore the house had been.

“I haven’t made any decisions. If it’ll make you crazy, then yeah, for sure that’s what I’ll do.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” She gave him a disgusted look.

He lifted a negligent shoulder.

“Oh,” she said softly, and he felt her light hand cup the back of his upper arm. “You’re such a bastard,” she said softly. “When did you get this?” She didn’t touch the fresh ink, but her light hold made him aware his arm was still tender under the skin.