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Chapter Four
On Saturday morning, the sun shined through Cora’s big bay window. A blur of three children rushed through Cora’s front door past her and into the living room, screaming, “Hi, Aunt Cora.”
Cora glanced over her shoulder with a smile. The open concept of her house showed off the bright chef’s kitchen and the sleek, modern leather furniture and metal coffee table in the living room. The kids went straight to the white leather couch and the books that Cora had bought for them more than a week ago.
“Did Mom call you?”
Cora turned to her older sister of three years, Cassandra. While Cora had her father’s genes, Cassandra looked more like her mother, with dirty-blond hair and big brown eyes. “Yup, big ole family dinner for Dad’s birthday—two months from today.”
Cassandra laughed, spying her children over Cora’s shoulder. “She is ridiculous, planning so far ahead.” She looked to Cora with a frown. “We’re going to have them out to our house on Wednesday. It’s our turn this week, right?”
“I had them over last time,” Cora said, nodding. “But I don’t mind—I can again.”
“Nah.” Her sister dismissed Cora with a wave of her hand. “Besides, it’s easier at our house for the kids. It’s kid-proofed, and they won’t break anything.”
Cora stared at her sister, who resumed watching the kids. She chuckled, shaking her head and pushing her sister toward the front door. “Okay, go have fun. I’ll see you in a couple hours. And I’ll put dinner on my calendar.”
Worry etched Cassandra’s eyebrows. “You’re sure you don’t mind babysitting for a bit?”
“Of course not. The little stinkers are fun.”
Her sister had already been back through the house despite Cora’s efforts, repeatedly kissing the kids. Finally getting Cassandra onto her front porch, she figured her five-year-old nephew, Eddie—who was the spitting image of his grandfather—would thank her. He had looked disgusted at his mother’s constant affection. “It’ll be fine,” Cora reassured her once again.
Cassandra’s husband, John, was halfway down the drive. They’d been high school sweethearts and still seemed so happy. They lived the American dream, and even had the white picket fence. She was sure her sister was very vanilla, though they never really talked much about those things, oddly enough.
John still looked like the football jock he’d been in high school. Tall, fit, with a baby face and soft brown eyes. “Come on, Cassandra, how often does this happen?”
Her sister had always been the straight-A student and a worrier. In fact, Cassandra reminded Cora of her friend Presley, only without the kinky side. If her sister knew the lifestyle Cora led, she’d likely faint in pure dramatic fashion.
Cassandra was the good girl who went to college, married, and started a family. Cora had been the adventurous one who didn’t stick to traditional ways. Things hadn’t changed all that much into adulthood. Plus, her sister was a damn control freak, which was why Cora didn’t babysit as much as she’d like to.
Even if they were different, Cora and her sister had a great relationship. When Cora was seventeen, Cassandra’s wedding had brought them closer together with all the planning. That bond hadn’t faded. They talked weekly, and though they didn’t have much in common, Cora loved her and her family very much. She had no complaints and had wonderful memories of her childhood.
She might have been a difficult teenager, but Cora had spunk and she’d never been ashamed of that. Perhaps she had skipped school and gotten into typical teenage trouble, but she’d come out of it with a great job and a home of her own. Apparently, she’d done everything right—she just took a different road to get there.
Her parents were proud of her, she knew that.
Hell, she was proud of herself.
Cassandra once more looked to her children, who were all now crowding the porch to wave goodbye, before she lifted the bag in her hand. “Here are some toys for them to play with.”
Before Cora could accept the bag, her nephew ripped it out of his mom’s hands. Cassandra frowned, shaking her head at her son. “Honey, be careful with those, you don’t want to break your toys.” Turning to Cora, she said, “If he gets to be too much, take them for a walk or to the park.”
Cora placed her hand on Cassandra’s shoulder. “You’re only going for a couple hours. I can handle this. Seriously, cut the cord.”
“Listen to your sister,” John called, now standing by their minivan, holding the passenger door open.
Cassandra sighed
. “Call if you need anything.”
“Will do.” Before Cassandra could say more, Cora hustled the kids back inside and shut the door. “Good grief.”
“What does good reef mean?” her three-year-old niece, Julia, asked.
Cora patted the top of her blond head, staring into her sparkling brown eyes that looked nearly identical to John’s. “It means your mom needs to go out more, sweetie. Go play.”
As Julia skipped away to the bag of toys Eddie had now dumped all over the floor, Cora’s telephone rang. She grabbed the cordless phone off the glass coffee table and pressed it to her ear. “Hello.”
