Angel Falls (Angel Falls Series, #1) by Babette Jongh (inspiring books for teens txt) 📗

He cut his eyes over at me, and I saw a little of the Ben I’d once fallen in love with.

“Hit me.”

“Okay.” I leaned back into the corner of the couch, and thought about the things Melody had always done for their children. “Are you taking notes?”

He nodded, and I began ticking off items.

“One, pick your children up at school on time, every day, Monday through Friday. Maryann said you were working from home most of the time now, so I know you can do it. Put it in your phone’s calendar, and set alarms if you can’t remember. Your children’s schedules are just as important as any of your business meetings. I’ll bet you don’t forget them.”

He winced. “What else?”

“Two, make sure they do their homework before supper.”

“They have homework?” As if he didn’t know.

Of course I ignored him. “Three. Cook supper, and sit with them while they eat it.”

“But I can’t—”

I held up a hand to stop his excuses. “You can make macaroni and cheese, can’t you?”

He said, “Yeah,” in a sheepish tone.

“Four, make sure they have a bath and brush their teeth every night. Make sure they wash their hair every couple of days, and for God’s sake, help them brush out the tangles afterward. Maryann’s hair was an absolute mess the other day at ballet.”

He shifted uncomfortably and looked toward the door. “Is that all?”

“Is that about all you can take?”

“Yeah.” He grinned the ghost of his old grin. “I think that’s enough to start.”

“Okay. Go pick up your kids, take them home and get started.”

He stood. “What do I do when Amy cries and doesn’t want to leave Lois?”

“Promise her you’ll read her a story when you get home.” I took our glasses into the kitchen and set them on the counter. He followed and put his wadded paper towel into the trash. “Goodnight Moon is one of her favorites. Promise her that one.” I walked with Ben onto the porch. He gave me a hug, but released me the second I started to wonder what the hug meant—if it meant anything more than thanks to an old friend.

“The part you mentioned about cooking supper...”

“The macaroni and cheese part? It comes in a blue and orange box—”

His mouth lifted into an almost-grin, and he punched me lightly on the shoulder. “The kids would love if you’d come over some night and, well...”

“Cook something besides macaroni and cheese?”

Ben smiled a real smile for the first time that night. “Yes, please. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Only if you promise to watch and learn while I cook.”

“Deal.”

“Go get your kids. It’s almost their bedtime.”

“Slave-driver.” He went down the steps to his car. I’d already turned to go back inside when he yelled, “Casey.”

I turned to see him standing in the open car door with his arms crossed on the hood. “What about tomorrow night?”

“Ben, I’m busy all this week, and your kids need you to themselves.”

“Okay, okay. What about Friday? Come cook dinner for us on Friday. We’ll all be sick of macaroni and cheese by then.”

I wondered if instant capitulation would constitute backsliding, but couldn’t find the will to say no. “All right. I’ll come on Friday.” I felt as if I’d caved in, but I missed the kids, especially Jake, whom I’d hardly seen at all since... God, I could hardly think the words. Since Melody’s death, just a month ago.

A chill wind touched my shoulders, reminding me. More than a month. Melody had died the first week of September and it was now halfway through October.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I got hung up in the not-so-fast lane of the grocery store when the woman ahead of me pulled out a wallet full of coupons instead of cash. I showed up to Ben’s house late, carrying two heavy-duty canvas shopping bags that each weighed as much as a medium-sized goat.

Ben opened the door before I’d figured out how to knock without using my hands or making another scuff mark on the red door. He took the bags from me and pretended to stagger. “Damn. No wonder you’re late.”

“The checkout lane was a nightmare. I couldn’t decide whether I felt sorrier for me, the checkout girl, or the lady who was holding up the line with her gazillion coupons.”

“I’m glad you made it here in spite of complications.” He led the way to the kitchen. “The kids threatened to run away from home if I made them eat hot dogs again, so thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” I’d brought enough food—the kind Melody would have wanted them to have—to break the shelves in the refrigerator.

“Aunt Casey!” Amy skidded down the polished wood foyer and into the kitchen, her bunny house slippers making shushing noises as she skated along. “Look at me! I’m dusting!”

Maryann came in behind Amy and burrowed into my side for a hug. “Dad made us clean the house. We tried to tell him you weren’t company, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Ben put the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and started unpacking everything onto the kitchen table. “I’m doing everything you said.”

Maryann was still hanging onto me. “He made us finish our homework before you got here, so we can watch a DVD after dinner.”

I gave Ben a thumbs-up sign.

Jake slumped into the kitchen from the living room and gave me a quick hug. “What’s for dinner?”

“I thought I’d get your daddy to cook steaks on the grill, and y’all can help me make a salad, boy-scout potatoes, and—”

“We’re gonna eat boy scouts?” Amy stuck her thumb in her mouth and leaned against Ben’s leg.

“No, Punkin.” Ben reached down to ruffle her hair. “Boy-scout potatoes are like mashed potatoes, cooked and mashed-up but not peeled.”

“I hate that kind, Aunt Casey,” Maryann whined. “Mama never made that kind of potatoes.”

“No problem.” I patted Maryann’s back. “We can make regular mashed potatoes, but you get to peel them.”

“No.” Ben pinned Maryann with a severe stare. “We’re going to eat whatever Casey has planned, and we’re going to be