Chances Are Read online

  “So you never thought about—”

  “Not having her? No, I never did.” She had been one of the lucky ones, old enough and settled enough to be able to embrace motherhood as a wonderful, if unexpected, adventure. Even Tom’s decision to split with her, as devastating as it had been, hadn’t caused her to rethink her position. The one thing she had been sure of was that she wanted the baby.

  “Do you ever wish things had been different?”

  “For a long time I did. I kept wishing Tom would change his mind and Hannah could have her daddy with her every single day, but it wasn’t in the cards.” She glanced at the engagement ring on her finger and smiled. “Now I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  Kelly nodded thoughtfully, and Maddy wondered what was going through her head. How on earth did you explain your first real love to the daughter of the man you were going to marry? How did you explain to a fiercely intelligent, deeply romantic young woman that even though life didn’t always work out quite the way you thought it would, it mostly worked out exactly the way it should if you gave it time?

  When you were seventeen you believed love conquered everything. By the time you were thirty-three, you had learned that love conquered everything but itself. Only time could do that.

  Claire would probably have had a better, more maternal answer. One that managed to be truthful and tactful at the same time, an answer perfectly tailored for the delicate sensibilities of a seventeen-year-old heart. They were only a few years apart in age, but the difference in parental experience was wide.

  The coffee machine pinged to let them know it had finished brewing, and Maddy quickly poured the hot liquid into two insulated carafes while Kelly continued fidgeting with the fringe on the dish towel. Clearly she had something on her mind, a prospect that filled Maddy with apprehension. It could be as simple as wanting to make sure Maddy was good enough for Aidan or, as she suspected, as complicated as an unexpected pregnancy, and it was obvious that her answers were being considered very carefully.

  I’m not ready for this, Maddy thought as Kelly worried the fringe. Hannah was barely five. She had counted on a good eight or nine years before the questions started turning dicey. This was like being thrown into the deep end of the pool in the middle of the night when all you knew how to do was the dead man’s float. She was terrified of saying too much or too little or not the right things. This sudden leap toward intimacy had her off balance and feeling very uncertain of exactly what was expected of her role as a quasi-friend/future stepmother.

  She was grateful for the distraction when Crystal popped up in the doorway one more time and asked if there was any cheesecake left over from dinner and asked if maybe they could add a platter of sandwiches while they were at it.

  “Can you spell expense account?” Maddy grumbled as soon as the girl was out of earshot. “Maybe we should just send them down to—” She stopped abruptly. “Kelly, what’s wrong?”

  The words had barely left her mouth when Aidan’s daughter sagged against the sink and would have hit the floor if Maddy hadn’t grabbed her by the shoulders and managed to lead her safely to a chair.

  “I’m okay.” Kelly’s voice was so breathy and low Maddy had to strain to hear her words. “Just let me . . . sit a second—”

  “You’re white as a sheet, honey. Put your head between your knees.”

  “No . . . I’m—”

  Maddy placed a gentle hand on the back of the girl’s neck and encouraged her to bend low from the waist. “Breathe deeply,” she said in as soothing a tone as she could manage. “Nice and easy . . . that’s good . . . deep, slow breaths . . . okay . . . better, much better . . . now sit here and let me get you some water.”

  Kelly forced a laugh. “I don’t need water.”

  “Maybe not,” said Maddy as she dashed to the sink, “but I do.”

  She wasn’t joking. The sight of Kelly’s face drained of color had almost buckled her knees. The last time she had seen anything like that was in her own mirror during the first trimester she was carrying Hannah.

  Get a grip, she warned herself as she filled a cobalt-blue glass with cool water. People got woozy and light-headed every day of the week, and pregnancy wasn’t the only reason it happened. Low blood sugar. Fatigue. Whatever ridiculous diet she was currently following. There were a million reasons that didn’t end up in a maternity ward nine months later.

  “Here, honey.” She pressed the glass of water into Kelly’s hands. “Take a small sip.”

  She cupped the girl’s silky head as she drank, aware once again of the physical similarities between Aidan’s daughter and her own Hannah. The distance between five and seventeen had never seemed shorter or more fraught with peril.

  Kelly did as she was told. It seemed odd to see the normally self-possessed young woman in such a vulnerable situation, and Maddy’s maternal heart ached to fold her into a hug that probably would have embarrassed both of them equally. They didn’t have that sort of relationship. Not even close, not yet. Maddy was Aidan’s fiancée. Kelly was his daughter. How those two realities would merge—or not—remained to be seen.

  “Thanks.” Kelly handed her the empty glass. “You were right.”

  “Too bad my mother isn’t around to hear that.” She put the glass down on the table and crouched down in front of the girl. “So what happened?”

  “I—I think I’m coming down with something.”

  “Hannah told me you weren’t feeling too well yesterday.”

  Kelly’s cheeks burned red with either guilt or embarrassment. She looked down at her hands and said nothing.

  “Maybe I should call your father.”

  “No!”

  “Your aunt Claire would—”

  “Really. I’m fine.” She smiled up at Maddy, but it wasn’t terribly convincing. “I just need some more water.”

  “I realize we don’t know each other very well yet, Kelly, but if you want to talk, I’m happy to listen.” Please don’t tell me anything important, honey. Don’t make me have to choose between your secrets and your father’s trust.

  The words hung in the air between them, balanced on the fragile threads of promise that were slowly beginning to bind their families together.

  “I’m okay,” Kelly said. “Really. It’s probably just my allergies or something.”

  You don’t believe that, Kelly, any more than I do.

  But, oh God, how much they both wanted to.

  She looked so young, so vulnerable, as she met Maddy’s eyes. So terribly frightened. Just let me hide a little longer, her look said. I need some more time to think.

  Maddy was almost ashamed of the powerful rush of relief that washed over her when Kelly stood up and smoothed the front of her T-shirt. “Want me to take the coffee in to them?”

  “I’ll do it,” Maddy said, picturing a disaster if the young woman grew light-headed again. “I want to make sure they don’t change any settings on my computer.”

  Kelly’s familiar saucy grin, a trifle subdued but welcome, reappeared. “Better make sure they don’t find any E-mails from my father!”

  Maddy quickly hoisted the tray and bolted for the door. “Now I know how Paris Hilton must have felt.”

  Kelly’s laughter followed her down the hall.

  You’re a coward, Maddy, a small voice whispered in her ear, and she couldn’t deny it. Short of putting her fingers in her ears and humming really loud, she had done everything in her power to keep Kelly from unburdening herself.

  Funny how relief could feel a whole lot like shame.

  Funny and very sad.

  CLAIRE STARED HARD at a pair of fives while the other women waited. Maybe if she stared hard enough and long enough, they would turn into a full house. This was the same methodology she had used when she was fourteen and believed she could think herself into a C-cup bra when she was clearly born for the A team. It hadn’t worked then, and it was unlikely to work now.

  “For God’s sake, Claire,” Olivia chided in exa
speration. “If you’re going to fold, then fold. This is penny ante poker, girl, not high stakes.”

  “I’ll see you,” Claire said at last, “and raise you ten.” Nothing like embarrassment to prod a woman into doing something irreversibly stupid.

  “Too rich for my blood.” Gina placed her cards down on the table. “I’m out.”

  Maddy considered her from across the table. She had one of those open, friendly faces you saw in magazines and television commercials. Too bad she also had one of the best poker faces Claire had ever encountered. Her future quasi-sister-in-law could be planning a coup d’etat or tomorrow’s dinner behind that smile. It was anyone’s guess.

  Claire still wasn’t sure if Maddy was pleased they would be working together at Cuppa or shared her misgivings. They had spoken briefly in the kitchen before the game started, made the right kind of nicey-nice noises, stopping just short of air kisses. They had even made plans to meet tomorrow to take a look around Cuppa, but she wasn’t fooled. There was an alpha and a beta in every relationship, and Maddy was the lead sled dog. Neither one of them owned even one of Cuppa’s tea bags, but it was patently clear Maddy was the woman in the driver’s seat. Claire had no doubt that all Maddy had to do was say the word, and Rose would see to it that the hostess job went to someone else.

  And why not? That was one of the perks that came with being Rose DiFalco’s daughter. Some women were born lucky, and Maddy Bainbridge was one of them. When Rose died, Maddy would inherit The Candlelight, the Miata, the bank accounts, and everything else her Midas mother had accumulated over the years. Maddy would be able to buy Cuppa outright without even dipping into the principal. No wonder she was smiling.

  “I don’t think you have anything,” Maddy said, still smiling at her from across the card table.

  Claire, whose own poker face needed improvement, smiled back. “Interesting,” she said.

  “In fact,” Maddy continued, still smiling, “I think you’re bluffing.”

  “Are you in?” she asked.

  Maddy’s ongoing smile gave nothing away. She could have been holding a royal flush or worse cards than Claire.

  “I’ll see you,” she said at last, “and raise you five.”

  As the song said, you had to know when to hold ’em and when to fold ’em. This was definitely time to fold them, but Claire was like Bruno when he had one of Billy’s socks clamped between his teeth. Nothing short of the Jaws of Life would break her free of that table.

  “I call,” Maddy said, her smile glowing a little less brightly. “What do you have, Claire?”

  “Not one damn thing,” she said, spreading her cards out for the others to see.

  “Now why on earth did you do that?” Olivia demanded. “Didn’t you know we’d catch you speeding with cards like that?”

  “It wasn’t my night,” she said with a shrug. “It happens.”

  “Not to you,” Lucy DiFalco chimed in. “You usually wipe the floor with the rest of us.”

  “Hey!” Maddy protested with a laugh. “Isn’t it possible my superior card-playing skills factored into this at least a little bit?”

  “No!” they all responded in unison. Maddy was known as the “fish” of the group, the one who could be counted upon to lose a tidy sum of money to the rest of them.

  “If I had my way, I’d pay Rosie to stay home and send you to all the games,” Gina said, ducking a playful whack from her cousin. “I can count on winning at least a few hands if you’re around.”

  “Who deals?” Olivia asked the table.

  “I’m out,” Lucy said, barely stifling a yawn. “I’m not as young as you girls. I need my sleep.”

  “Right,” said Olivia with a playful wink. “Like we’re not supposed to know your new beau is waiting in the driveway for you.”

  “In a vintage Austin-Healey, no less,” Maddy said. “The man knows his cars.”

  “And his women,” Lucy said. “He likes his wine, his autos, and his women well-aged.” She winked at them. “Bless his heart.”

  Gina pushed back her chair and stood up. “Where is he?” she demanded. “I have to meet this paragon of virtue.”

  Claire pushed away a few uncharitable thoughts about Gina.

  Olivia gathered up her coins and dumped them into a silk-lined velvet pouch. “My place next time,” she announced as they carried used plates and cups into the kitchen.

  Watching Olivia clear a table was like watching Queen Elizabeth II pull latrine duty. You didn’t dare blink because you knew it was a sight you’d never see again.

  “Please,” Claire said, taking the plates from her friend’s hand. “This is too painful. You wouldn’t know how to wash a dish if your life depended on it.”

  “And that’s why the goddess made dishwashers,” Olivia said with cheerful disregard for the legions of mortals without modern conveniences.

  “I’m with her,” Gina said, adding her cup and saucer to the pile on the counter. “If it doesn’t use electricity, I don’t want to know about it.”

  “No wonder New Jersey is synonymous with protecting the environment,” Maddy drawled to a chorus of catcalls. “I’m sorry, but it’s done a whole lot better out west.”

  “And how many coffee beans died for your sins out there in Seattle?” Claire asked as she squeezed detergent into the little cup.

  “I’m going cold turkey as of now,” Maddy declared, arranging the cups on the top shelf of the dishwasher. “In honor of Cuppa, I’m switching to tea.”

  “No offense, Liv,” Gina said, “but only an act of Congress could get me to give up my morning coffee.”

  “None taken,” Olivia said, tucking a lock of sleek chocolate brown hair behind her left ear. “Maddy’s just being a loyal store manager.”

  Claire couldn’t help it, but the look of utter shock on Gina’s face was very satisfying.

  “Gina, don’t tell me you didn’t know,” she said as casually as she could manage. “Maddy’s going to manage Liv’s place, and I’m going to serve as hostess and occasional baker. I thought everyone had heard by now.” Okay, so maybe that last sentence was a bit much, but her willpower was weak.

  Gina swung around to face her cousin. “So when the hell did this happen?” she demanded.

  Claire caught Lucy’s eye and grinned at the look of sheer enjoyment on the older woman’s face. You and me both, Lucy, she thought. Although probably for very different reasons.

  “You mean something escaped your gossip radar?” Maddy said with a laugh. “Claire and I are going to be running Cuppa for Liv and Rosie.”

  Slack-jawed shock wasn’t a good look for Gina, Claire noted with satisfaction.

  “Wait! Wait!” Gina sounded completely befuddled. “Rosie? What does she have to do with any of this?”

  “You really are out of the loop, cuz,” Maddy said.

  Gina was clearly annoyed to find herself in the position of being the last one to know, and she peppered Olivia and Maddy with questions about the new business arrangements, totally ignoring Claire, who watched with a combination of annoyance and bemusement. She was glad when Billy bounded into the kitchen in search of some more cookies. She was even glad to see Bruno right behind him.

  “What are you doing still up?” Claire said, ruffling her son’s thick, dark hair. Any day now she would lose that maternal privilege to the surly bonds of adolescence. “Grandpa was supposed to make sure you were in bed by ten.”

  “Grandpa’s asleep.” He managed to put up with her fussing for a record-breaking thirty seconds before he ducked just beyond her reach. “Can I have two more cookies?” Oh, that smile . . . she was still waiting for the day she could look at that smile and not feel her heart break just a little bit more.

  “To bed with you.”

  “Ma, please, just two more, then I’ll brush my teeth.”

  “One more and then—Bruno!” She grabbed for the dog’s collar before he knocked poor Lucy to the floor with his enthusiasm.

  Olivia, noticing the co
mmotion, turned away from Gina and Maddy and smiled down at Billy. Her son had a major crush on Olivia. He did his best to hide his affections, but his flaming red cheeks were a dead giveaway.

  “So how did your book report turn out, Billy?” Olivia never condescended to children. She always talked to them like they were adults in slightly smaller packaging.

  “Fine,” he mumbled, looking down at his bare feet.

  “Did you end up using that papyrus scroll you designed in my workshop?”

  “Yeah.” One word, torn from the depths of his soul. The torment of unrequited love was writ large on his freckled face. The poor kid was torn between wanting to run for the safety of his bedroom and basking in Olivia’s attentions for a decade or two.

  Poor kid. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that this was one thing time couldn’t cure. Love was fatal, no matter when it found you.

  “Will you bring it into the store one day and show me the finished product?” Olivia asked. “I’d like to see how it turned out. Maybe we could display it on the samples board, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  He beamed with sheer, undiluted joy but managed only to mumble an awkward “Okay” before he grabbed one of the leftover chocolate macadamia nut cookies and fled the scene in a blur of energy and nascent testosterone.

  “He’s a man of few words,” Claire said wryly as Bruno tore after his master.

  “You realize he’s going to be a heartbreaker in a few years, don’t you?” Olivia teased. “The quiet ones always are.”

  “Stop by someday around suppertime,” Claire said. “You’ll be praying for silence before you finish your salad.”

  “Oh, wait!” Maddy reached for her enormous tote bag, which was slung over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “I have the print-outs of those pictures I took of the kids at the Easter egg hunt last month.”

  “Took you long enough,” Gina said. “I figured we’d get to see them by the Fourth of July.”

  Maddy whipped a folder out of her tote bag and removed a sheaf of glossy photo papers. “I’m no Scavullo,” she said, “but you can’t take a bad picture of those kids.” She sifted through the pictures. “Okay, Gina, here’s your tribe and one of the whole group together . . . Claire, here you go . . . there’s even one of Kathleen.”