“You mowed Mrs. B’s lawn?”
“Sure. All of us did things like that for them. We hung out at their house enough that we were glad to do it.”
Maeve pulled her attention fully away from the letters in front of her for the first time all night. “You’re saying that plebes will sometimes mow the lawns of their sponsors?”
Lacey groaned, realizing where this was headed.
Maeve slapped her hand on the table. “I want one,” she said decisively.
“Maeve, you don’t sponsor a plebe to get your lawn mowed. You sponsor someone because you want to give them a home away from home.”
“That’s fine with me. I can provide a home away from home. I do it for you all, don’t I? My God, maybe we could find one who could babysit,” she concluded triumphantly, raising her eyebrows and giving a slight nod to Bess’s belly. “Do I get to pick one out? I’d want to make sure he could handle a bit of hard labor.”
“No, Maeve. It’s not like picking out a puppy at the pound,” Jack commented.
After a brief silence, Maeve scowled at the looks of reproach from her friends. “Why are you all looking at me like that? I was just kidding.”
The others narrowed their eyes on her.
Maeve relented. “Okay. I was half kidding. Give me some credit, will you?”
***
It really had been a grand idea. Maeve laughed to herself, picking up two empty soda cans from the table on the back porch, and envisioning a young, virile midshipman mowing her lawn for free. If only she didn’t have that troublesome streak of decency. She must have inherited that from Gram.
The smell of onions and mushrooms wafted out the kitchen window and onto the porch. Maeve usually enjoyed spending mornings on her back deck sipping her coffee. But the smell of an omelet—a real omelet, not the kind you pour from a carton—cooking up in her kitchen was something of a rarity. She headed back inside.
Lacey sat at the kitchen table watching Bess efficiently chop vegetables with the precision of a master chef. “I had no idea you could cook like this.”
Bess tossed a smile over her shoulder. “It’s easy, really. You just follow the directions.”
Maeve chimed in. “No. Heating up a can of spaghetti is following directions. What you’re doing is an art form.”
“I used to love making brunch for Dan on Sunday mornings,” she began, and then immediately clammed up.
Maeve shot her a questioning look. “Dan?”
Bess quickly busied herself looking for the cheddar in the fridge. “Yeah. Umm. He’s my ex-boyfriend. You know, the dad.”
“You mean, sperm donor. It takes a lot more than a night in the sack to make a dad,” Lacey corrected, earning a nod of approval from Maeve.
“He’s… umm…” Bess struggled, and the expression on her face wasn’t that of frustration or resentment as Maeve would have expected. It was fear.
“He’s not here,” Maeve finished for her. “So that pretty much says enough to me. Is that mine?” she asked, quickly changing the subject.
“Mmhm.” Bess handed her a steaming plate.
“Glad you didn’t offer up these cooking skills last night or those guys would be on our doorstep every day.” Maeve smacked her lips enthusiastically as she took her first bite.
Bess grinned. “Oh, I don’t think it takes good food to keep them coming back. Just takes you two.”
“I’ve made it pretty clear to Jack that I’m not interested. I don’t backtrack.”
“Try convincing him that.”
“He’ll get frustrated and move on.” She went to the fridge. “Now Mick is another story. I don’t know why you aren’t doing a little horizontal tango with that man, Lacey. Orange juice, anyone?”
Lacey and Bess shook their heads.
“He’s not interested in me.” Lacey received two sets of rolling eyes in response. “Seriously. He even told me that. He’s just not looking for someone to settle down with right now.”
“Who said anything about settling down? You just need a regular aerobic workout. It’s cheaper than joining a gym,” Maeve teased as the phone rang. She picked it up. “Hello?” she snapped with her mouth half stuffed with food. “Hello-oo?” She shook her head at the silence and hung up, glancing at the caller ID display. “No one. That’s the third unknown name-unknown number that’s hung up on me recently.”
Bess’s ears perked up. “Really?”
“It’s starting to piss me off.” Maeve shrugged carelessly. “Anyway, I know you want to focus on career now, but you can’t avoid distractions forever. And men are such lovely distractions.”