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“Seventeen? What? Were you ten when you had her?”
“No need for insincere flattery, Doug, I’m already on your side. Your credentials speak for themselves.”
“I’m not blowing smoke up your ass, if that’s what you think.”
She laughed. “Okay, well, thanks. You’re right. I was eighteen when I had her. A very naïve eighteen.”
“From teen mom to mayor of a flourishing beach side community. I’d love to hear how that happened. Maybe we can get coffee sometime?”
Coffee? Was that his way of asking her out on a date? She was a married woman! Well, technically she was separated, but still, it seemed a little forward of him to—
She mentally shook her head.
This is what happened when you watched too many episodes of Dora the Explorer. Her brain was hardwired for Sesame Street and playdates. Not city council meetings and budget outlines. Of course he wasn’t asking her out. This is how grown-ups who worked together interacted. She’d probably imagined that he’d been staring at her legs, and coffee seemed tame enough. Plus, if today was any indication for future city council meetings, she’d need Doug on her side.
“Coffee sounds good. Maybe you can explain to me how this budget is supposed to work?”
“You’ve got my number. Anytime you’re free, call me.”
“Thanks,” she said, “I’ll do that.”
They said their good-byes in the parking lot. She put the minivan in drive and took off for home.
Despite Bruce’s obvious agenda to make her look like Betty Crocker on crack, she’d survived her first city council meeting. Barely. But survived it, she had.
Of course, never in her wildest dreams had she imagined Zeke would show up and out them to the entire world. Now, thanks to Zeke’s big mouth, their announcement time line had just been dramatically fast-forwarded. She might have gotten through the first part of her day, but it was going to seem like child’s play compared to what came next. Because like it or not, she was going to have to tell her children about this time out. Before they found out about it from someone else.
Mimi stepped through the back door leading into the kitchen. She tossed her minivan keys and the leather tote onto the countertop. The house seemed eerily quiet.
Too quiet, as far as she was concerned.
Several glasses and a couple of dirty plates littered the bottom of the kitchen sink, but otherwise everything seemed as tidy as she’d left it this morning.
“Cameron? Claire?” she called out. “I’m home!” She opened the refrigerator door and stared at the contents—there was leftover roast beef, but she wasn’t in the mood for it. Neither was she in the mood for chicken or anything else that sounded nutritionally sound.
She could always make cookies for dinner. When the going got tough, the tough got baking. And Mimi Grant loved to bake. Cookies were her specialty, but she also made the best key lime pie in Whispering Bay (although Bettina Bailey would probably dispute that).
She walked into the living room to find her son sitting on the couch playing a video game.
“Hey,” she said.
He glanced up, but didn’t stop playing. “What’s for dinner?”
“Cookies and milk,” she answered automatically.
That got Cameron’s attention. He laid down his X-Box remote and stared at her. “For real?”
Add in a great big bottle of chilled chardonnay for her. Or maybe a nice Pinot Noir. Yes. Chocolate-chip cookies (because any cookies she made tonight would definitely have chocolate in them) called for a red wine.
It was a lovely fantasy, but it wouldn’t exactly win her any mother of the year awards. “How about we order a pizza?” she said. “I’ll make some cookies for dessert.” She glanced around the living room. “Where’s your sister?”
“Um, I think she’s in her room doing homework.” Cameron blinked like he was trying hard not to say something he shouldn’t. Mimi didn’t want to think what that something might be.
“Is there someone with her?”
Cameron’s eyes bulged. “Like who?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Like a boy, maybe?”
