A Ready-Made Family. Carrie Alexander

A Ready-Made Family - Carrie  Alexander


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aware of how odd he must look wearing a towel and combat boots.

      “I dON’T WANT TO STAY there.” Sam crossed her arms and glowered at the rows of garishly colored boxes of breakfast cereal. “He’s a big grump.”

      “Takes one to know one.” Lia put a box of corn flakes into the cart. “Besides, he hasn’t invited us and I doubt that he will.” She worried her lip, reading over the list she’d made of the items that Jake had reeled off while he’d handed her a wad of twenties, more than enough for groceries. The thick lump of cash in her pocket only reminded her how much she’d come to count on Rose’s hospitality as her meager savings had dwindled on the trip north.

      “Then where will we go?”

      Lia sighed. “I don’t know.”

      “Do you have any money left?”

      While Lia had tried as best she could to shield the children from their circumstances, Sam was aware. In the past year, she’d heard “I don’t have the money for that” so often from Lia that she no longer asked for luxuries. She’d taken babysitting jobs and saved for months to buy the iPod.

      “What if he does? Will you say yes?”

      “Sam, please. I don’t know.”

      “Well, you’d better decide,” Sam said snottily.

      Lia meant to scold her daughter’s tone, but when their eyes met, she read Sam’s distress despite her daughter’s attempt to keep up the tough front. Another piece of Lia’s heart chipped away.

      “We’ll be okay,” she soothed. “Rose said rent is cheap in Alouette. If I can find a job, we’ll manage.”

      “I can get a job and give you the money.”

      “I appreciate the offer, but you’re only fourteen.”

      “So? I can work.” Sam unzipped her backpack. “I have thirty-six dollars saved from babysitting. You can have it—to pay for a motel.”

      Lia wanted to refuse. She’d promised herself that she’d make it on her own from here on out.

      Get real. The only way you’ll make it is with Rose’s help—now Jake’s—and maybe Sam’s babysitting money, too. Her pride hurt, but she’d been humbled before and she could do it again to give the kids the basics of food, shelter, safety. And eventually, she hoped, a better life.

      “Thanks, honey,” Lia said. “I may need a loan, but you hold on to your money for now.”

      Sam clutched the backpack. “I don’t want to stay in those stinky cabins.” Her voice was shrill.

      “We’ll see.” Fighting to stay on an even keel despite her daughter’s pushing, Lia rolled the cart into the next aisle. She met up with Howie and Kristen, who’d gone to get milk and eggs.

      Howie put the cartons in the wire buggy. “I got two percent—is that okay, Mom?”

      Kristen had glimpsed the cereal boxes around the corner. “Mommy, Mommy, Mom.” She grabbed at Lia’s shirt, untucking it again. “Can we have Honey-bear Crunch? Pleeese?”

      Something a little like hysteria crawled up Lia’s throat. At four ninety-five a box? she wanted to screech. She pried her hand off the cart handle and took her daughter’s shoulder to aim her at the toothpaste-and-soap aisle. Nothing there she’d want. “No cereal. We’re not shopping for ourselves this time.”

      “Mr. Bubble!” Kristen took off like a shot.

      “Howie?”

      “I’ll get her, Mom.” He trudged after his sister.

      Sam was staring at the floor. “Can we go now?”

      Lia consulted the list. “Just a few more things.”

      “Mo-om. Come on, already.” Sam stamped a clog. “I hate this stupid town. Why did you bring us here?” When Lia didn’t answer, she flung herself into the next aisle.

      “Get paper plates,” Lia said matter-of-factly.

      A roundly pregnant woman with a heaped cart gave Lia a wry look as she wheeled by. “Ah, the joys of motherhood. I can’t wait.”

      “Your first?”

      “Yes.” The woman rubbed her belly, her face serene. “Due in a few more months.”

      Lia felt a pang. She remembered touching her ex’s hand over her belly that way, with Samantha, when they were young and still in love. “Good luck,” she said, moving on.

      The woman looked past her shoulder. She was tall and queenly, with a burnished brunette bob and a wide smile. “You’re new in town.”

      Lia paused. “Is it that obvious?”

      “Only in Alouette. I’ve lived here for just about a year now and already I’m on a first-name basis with the entire population.” She added chummily, “And you have to wave at them every time your cars pass or they’ll think you’re mad.”

      “Then you’d know—” Lia broke off. She had to remember not to be forthcoming.

      The woman looked curious, but she covered the awkward silence by introducing herself. “I’m Claire Saari.”

      “Lia Howard. We’re not…uh, I’m not sure, but—” She took control of her stumbling tongue. “What I’m trying to say is that we may be only visiting overnight. I haven’t decided.”

      “Where are you staying?” When Lia hesitated to answer, Claire laughed. “Sorry. I could blame small-town nosiness, but really it’s that there aren’t many accommodations in town and I run one of them.” She produced a card from her purse. “Bay House, a bed-and-breakfast. June is early in the season yet, so I can get you a room if you’re looking.”

      Lia studied the card, which was embossed with a line drawing of a Victorian mansion perched on a cliff-side. Too ritzy by far. “Must be a nice place.”

      Claire lowered her voice. “I’ll give you a discount.”

      “Thanks. I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.”

      Claire glanced at the food in Lia’s cart. “Your only other local choice may not be viable, but you might prefer it if they’re open. Maxine’s Cottages.” She pointed. “Thataway—on Blackbear Road.”

      “I know it.”

      “Oh. You’ve been there already? With most of the family away, I wasn’t sure if the cottages—” Claire stopped and looked at Lia with dawning knowledge. “Wait a minute. You’re Rose’s friend from below the bridge, aren’t you? I remember she mentioned a Lia who couldn’t be at the wedding and so she had Tess as her maid of honor instead.”

      “This really is a small town,” Lia said with some dread. What had possessed her to believe that she would be able to keep her secrets here? Except that Rose had managed for a very long time—until the man she’d wound up marrying had persuaded her that she could come clean.

      “Yes.” Claire had laughing eyes. “We’re terribly small and gossipy. But we don’t hold a grudge if you tell us to butt out when we get too intrusive. Like me now.” She started to wheel her cart away, then stopped again. “Call me if you need anything, all right?”

      “I had car trouble,” Lia blurted. It was good to have an honest excuse. “That’s why we missed the wedding. And now we’re here and Rose is gone.”

      Claire made a sympathetic tsking sound. “You have to stick around until she comes back. I’m sure she’d want to see you.”

      “I’d like to, but…”

      “Rose’s brother should be at the cottages. I heard he’s planning to renovate them and reopen.”

      “We met him already, the kids


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