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Stelli bit his lip as he picked up his card, then a grin transformed his face. He lifted his pawn and brought it down hard on one of Piper’s, knocking it from the board. “Sorrrrryyyy!” he yelled with glee.
“Geez, Stelli, you knocked her piece off the board,” Evie said.
“It’s okay,” Piper said, leaning to retrieve it from under the table, where she could grit her teeth without being seen. She sat back up again. “Good move, Stel.”
“It’s Stelli,” he corrected her.
Even Leo was starting to look annoyed. “Stelli, be nice.”
The boy looked at his father, then burst into tears. “I don’t want her here! I want my mommy!” He ran from the room, and Leo jumped up and ran after him.
Piper looked over at Evie, whose eyes were filling. So much for game night.
“Are you okay?” Piper asked.
Evie looked down at the table and shrugged. “I miss her, too, but I know she’s not coming back. Stelli doesn’t understand. He thinks she’d come back if you weren’t here.”
“I wish there were some way I could help him,” Piper said.
Evie pushed her chair back from the table. “I’m gonna go see how he’s doing. Mommy told me that I have to look out for him.”
Piper shook her head as Evie walked away. This was getting out of hand. She took her wine, grabbed a fleece, and went outside to sit. Things were not going as planned. She hadn’t realized when she married Leo that Stelli was going to be such a thorn in her side. When she’d gotten together with Matthew, she’d anticipated that Mia might be difficult—after all, she was the spoiled preteen daughter of a mother who hated Piper. But Stelli and Evie were so young and adorable, she really thought they’d accept her and the four of them could be a family—especially without the influence of a mother poisoning them against her.
But Stelli just couldn’t let his mother go. She stayed outside for another half hour, stewing, until she saw a shadow moving through the house and, looking, saw that Leo had returned to the first floor. The screen door opened, and he came out and took a seat in the rocker across from her.
“Is he okay?” she asked.
Leo nodded. “Yeah. You just need to give him time.”
Once again, Piper had been relegated to second best by the man in her life. When was she going to learn that the children always came first? She’d seen it with Matthew. No matter what kind of trouble Mia caused between them, it was always,Poor Mia, she’s having a hard time with the divorce.Or,Poor Mia, it’s so disruptive going back and forth between two houses.Mia had made up her mind from the minute Piper began dating Matthew thatshe was going to do everything in her power to come between them. Whenever they’d go somewhere in the car, Mia would jump in the front seat and screamShotgun, and Matthew would give Piper a tilt of the head while wearing that sappy expression that begged her not to say anything. Mia would try on Piper’s clothes and leave them in a heap on her closet floor, take naps in their bedroom, and she even borrowed, then lost, her wedding band. Matthew never did a thing about any of it.
And still, Piper tried. She offered to take Mia for mani-pedis, or to drive her and her friends around, but Mia told her that’s what she had a mother for. Fortunately, they had her only on weekends, so weekdays were blissful—just Piper and Matthew in their sprawling house on the Pacific Ocean. They’d fall asleep with the balcony door open, listening to the crash of the waves, the smell of salt air filling the room. And then the day that brought it all to a screeching halt—all because of Mia.
Things would be different this time. Piper was going to make sure of that.
“Why don’t we go inside?” Leo said.
Piper was about to stand when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and, pulling it out, put it to her ear. “Hello?” She froze when she heard the voice on the other end.
“Hello, Pamela.”
“Mom?”
“Yes, I’m afraid I have somber news.”
She gripped the phone tighter, stood, and walked to the far end of the deck. “What is it?”
“Your father passed away. He had a cerebral hemorrhage in his sleep. I’m told he didn’t suffer, that it was instantaneous.”
Leave it to her mother to convey even this news in her robotic, unfeeling manner.
“When?” was all she could manage to get out.
“He expired last Tuesday.”
Expired?As if he were a carton of yogurt. “Why didn’t you call me then? I would have come right away.”
“Why? Your being here wouldn’thave changed anything.”