She’d done her best to make the small room feel like home. They’d unpacked toys together and she’d hung many of the pictures from their old rooms in Calgary, including several of their dad. The twin beds were made up with Davey’s Thomas-the-Train and Jill’s Dora-the-Explorer comforters.
They’d already had showers and brushed their teeth in the new bathroom. Now Leah asked them to put their dirty clothes in the hamper, then climb into their beds. As they scampered around the room collecting socks and underwear, her phone chimed.
She pulled it out of her back pocket and saw a text from Colt.
Mom wants to meet with you about the job. Tomorrow good?
Leah smiled, then slipped the phone back into her pocket. “Who wants to read Melanie Mouse’s Moving Day?”
“I do!” Jill went to the large wicker basket where they’d unpacked their books and pulled out the well-worn picture book.
“Me, too.” Davey scrambled up beside his sister, leaving room in the middle for Leah. She accepted the book from Jill, glad she’d had the foresight to buy a hardcover, since they’d been reading this story a lot lately. Neither one of the kids seemed to get tired of it. Usually at the end came lots of questions, which Leah patiently answered, over and over. Her children had been through many changes with the divorce and the move and she wanted them talking to her about their feelings, not bottling them up inside.
Today, though, Jill had a new question for Leah.
“Why couldn’t we stay at Grandma’s house, Mommy? She wants us to.”
“Well, when I was a little girl, like you, I lived with your grandmother, because she was my mom. But I’m an adult now. And once you’re an adult, you’re too old to keep living with your parents.”
“I won’t ever be too old to live with you,” Jill said.
“Me, too,” Davey said, giving her a fierce hug.
“You can stay as long as you want,” Leah promised.
“But if we left, would you cry like Grandma does?” Jill asked.
This was news to Leah. “Did you see your grandmother cry?”
Jill nodded. Davey leaned in close and whispered. “She was sad.”
“Really?” Leah swallowed, feeling some tears of her own welling up. “We’ll have to give Grandma lots of hugs and kisses the next time we see her so she’ll be happy again. Just like this—” Leah put an arm around each of her children and took turns kissing one, then the other. Soon, they were tumbling on the bed and giggling.
Which wasn’t exactly calming them down for sleep.
But she didn’t want them going to bed sad, either.
She decided to read them another book, a silly, fun book by Dr. Seuss, and then finished with the classic Goodnight Moon, which the children read to her since they knew it by heart.
“I love you, peanuts. Sleep well.” She gave them final kisses, pulled up their covers, then left the room, door open, night-light glowing.
She would have liked a little time to relax with a cup of tea and the latest episode of The Good Wife, but she still had her own bed to make and clothing to unpack. She was crossing the hall when her iPhone rang. She answered quickly, not wanting the chime from Modern Family to wake the kids.
“Hello, Mom.” She fought to keep her tone friendly, even though she was upset at her for crying in front of the kids. Her mom had been a big help since she’d moved back to Roundup. And she did appreciate that. But her children needed less drama in their lives. Not more.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you this earlier, Leah, but Jackson called the house today.”
“Really?” She hadn’t heard from her ex in over a week.
“He wants you to phone him back.”
“Did he talk to the kids?” They hadn’t mentioned anything, so Leah would be surprised if he had.
“No. They were napping, so I never thought to mention it.”
It shouldn’t have been up to her mother. Jackson should have asked.
“Leah, you will call him back?”
“Yes. I’ll dial him on Skype tomorrow morning so the kids can talk to him, too.”
“Maybe it would be better to call him tonight while they’re sleeping. So the two of you can have a private chat.”
“Mom, there is nothing private to be said. The divorce is final. Our only connection now is our children.”
There was a long silence. Then her mother said, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Colton Hart helping you with the move today, would it?”
“Mom, no! I haven’t seen him in years. We just happened to run into one another at the Open Range last night.”
“Is that where you stormed out to? I thought I could smell stale beer on your clothes when I put them in the washer.”
Oh, my Lord. Give me patience. Her mother was making her feel like an adolescent again.
“Yes, Mom, I went to the bar for a few drinks last night.” Leah opened the black garbage bag that held her bedding and pulled out her sheets. She pressed the speakerphone option, then set the phone on her nightstand so she could start making up her bed. “I am thirty-two, remember? And since I know you’re about to ask—no, there is nothing romantic going on with Colt and me.”
Not anymore, there wasn’t.
“I’m relieved to hear that. The Harts are a good family, but everyone knows Colt is the black sheep.”
Really, Mom? Black sheep? Leah bit back a sarcastic comment, knowing there was no point in starting an argument she couldn’t win.
“The real reason I was talking to Colt was because I wanted him to ask his mother about me doing some bookkeeping for Thunder Ranch.” Her mother knew about her plans to run her own home business. She’d shocked Leah by actually being supportive.
“That’s a good idea.”
“Thank you. I just received a message that Sarah Hart wants to interview me tomorrow. Is there any chance you could watch the kids for me, again?”
“I have coffee plans with some friends in the afternoon, but my morning is free. I’d be happy to have them for a few hours. Would that be enough time?”
“Lots. Thanks so much, Mom. I’ll bring them over around nine-thirty.”
Leah sat on her bed and picked up her phone to end the call with her mother then typed a reply to Colt’s message. Great! Tomorrow at ten, okay?
His reply came a few seconds later.
That works. Now you owe me, darlin.
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