Page 7 of Mind Games

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter how much we love each other, what a wonderful mother she is, what a solid partner in business she is. She tried so hard, Lucy, and none of it mattered to them. I married too young and to someone they disapprove of, so I’ll always be a disappointment. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“It mattered to her.”

“Too much, if you ask me. My sister’s daughter is Rem’s age. For her birthday, they bought her a horse.”

“A horse. An actual horse?”

“That’s right. She’s been taking equestrian lessons for about a year now. So they bought her a horse. They forgot Rem’s tenth altogether, but for some reason that didn’t snap it. It was that card, the ten and two ones that did it. The imbalance of it, the fact that she finally realized our kids would never matter to them.”

“All it makes me wonder, John”—she turned away to heat up her big cast-iron skillet—“is how they managed to help make someone like you.”

“And I wonder sometimes if I’d be who I am if Cora Lannigan hadn’t sat down beside me and smiled.”

“Meant to be,” Lucy reminded him.

“Meant to be.” He toasted her with his coffee, and drank. “She stopped letting what they thought or felt matter, which is a relief to me. And she started pining for you, her brothers, for what she knew she had with all of you and tried too hard to make with them. Family time, closer ties.”

“She needed to make her own before she really wanted what was always there. I’d say we’re giving each other a gift. Now, I hear more stirring up there. You call them down, and I’ll get these pancakes going.”

He came around the counter first to hug her. “I love you, Lucy.”

“John.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re one of the bright lights in my life.”

* * *

They had breakfast at the kitchen table as they had dinner the night before. The kids helped with the dishes, as that would be a daily chore during their stay, as would making their beds in the morning, helping with the laundry, and tending the animals.

They would help, as their mother and uncles had before them, weed the gardens, mow the grass, keep the house clean, and learn to cook some simple dishes.

Lucy pressed a container with a generous slice of apple stack cake on John.

“You take a taste of Kentucky with you.”

“You know I will. Okay, Foxy Loxies, bring it in, and pretend you’ll miss us.”

“I’ll miss you, Dad.” Giggling, Thea snuggled in. “A little bit.”

He laughed, hauled her up for a kiss, then did the same with Rem.

“I don’t have to tell you to mind Grammie.” Cora squeezed them hard enough to make them squeal. “I know you will. Y’all have fun now.”

“Call when you get home,” Lucy said, “so we know you got there safe.”

When she hugged them, she felt a clutch in her belly. When it fisted over her heart, she hugged harder. “I’ll miss you both, more than a little. Drive careful now, and look after each other.”

She made herself let go. “I’ve got these two hooligans in hand, don’t you worry.”

With waves and blown kisses, they got in the car. Cora looked back as they drove away, then turned, looked forward.

“You and me, babe.” John flicked a glance in the rearview, then smiled at her. “What should we do when we get home to a quiet, empty house?”

“I think we should open a bottle of wine and have really loud sex.”

The smile turned into a grin. “Great minds.”

With a kid on either side, and three dogs panting, Lucy watched the car until it drove out of sight.

She willed the pressure on her heart to release, then looked down at the kids. And quoted from a favorite book of hers, and theirs.

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