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“Mom!”
“The phone, Cole.Now.”
Cole heaved a larger-than-life, sixteen-year-old sigh and handed the phone to her mother.
“Hello? This is Maggie Padovano, Cole’s mother. Who is this?”
Cole leaned forward, straining to hear any piece of what Roberta was saying. Her mother raised a warning finger at her.
“I see. And when is all of this supposed to happen?”
Cole folded her hands in prayer and mouthed the words, “Please, Mom?Please?”
“Uh huh. Where?”
Cole wanted to scream and clapped her hands over her own mouth as she caught her mother’s eye.
“Well, Cole and I can be there—”
Cole leaped up, ecstatic.
“—I’ll extend the offer to the rest of the family, but I can’t guarantee how many will come. Is that a problem? No? Okay, we’ll see you next Saturday.”
Maggie barely had time to hang up the phone before Cole threw her arms around her. “Ohmygod! Mom! We’re going to be in the studio audience! That is the coolest thing ever! Do you think we’ll get to meet her? I can’t believe she read my paper! I can’t wait to telleveryone!”
At the next Sunday dinner, Cole was beaming, and Danny didn’t have to wait long to find out why.
“Guess what!” she gushed. “I sent a copy of my paper to Lauren, and—get this!— her publicist called me Friday night. We’ve all been invited to be part of the studio audience when Lauren does her interview onBackstage with Martin Sandovalon Saturday! Isn’t that awesome?”
The sudden chill that radiated off Heather washed over Danny in concussive waves. He loved Cole but, in that moment, he wished she’d just shut up and stop going on and on about Lauren.
“You’ll come, right, Uncle Danny? And you too, Aunt Heather? This will be so cool!”
“I don’t know,” Danny said around a mouthful of broccoli. Before he could say anything else, Lucas chimed in.
“That would be cool. We can go, right, Dad?”
Danny passed the buck. “It’s up to your mother.”
“C’mon, Aunt Heather.” Cole turned on her best charming smile. “How many chances do you get to be in a studio audience?”
“Mom?” Lucas asked at the same time.
“Yeah, can we, Mom?” Matty asked.
Heather put her knife and fork down and her hands in her lap. Danny could see they were curled into fists. A tremor flitted across her lower lip before she plastered on a smile. “I suppose we can go.”
“Awesome!” Cole high-fived Lucas.
After dinner and dessert, everyone lingered for a little while so Tommy could play a game of Trash Pandas against his older cousin. He lost. Danny tried not to laugh as his youngest bemoaned his fate and demanded the chance to “reclaim his manhood.” With a glance at the other boys, Danny knew they’d taught their little brother that phrase since neither would make eye contact with him.
Back at their house, Heather snapped into Monday-morning-prep mode: making lunches, vacuuming, doing yet another load of wash. She couldn’t believe three boys could producethatmuch dirty laundry. All the while, she waited for her husband to bring up the whole Sandoval thing.
Finally, she wearied of waiting. “What were you thinking?”
“I know,” Danny said, his expression chagrined.
Heather, however, didn’t want contrite—she wanted an apology. “You put me in an awful position. ‘It’s up to your mom?’”She flung the shirts in her hand into the laundry basket. “Come on, Danny. I had to say yes regardless of how I felt. I tell them no and I’m the bad guy.”
