Page 42 of Someone to Have (Skylark #3)

ERIC

I sign us in at the reception desk, and we head back to the community room where Jen is sitting at her usual table.

She’s curled her hair and is wearing a bit of makeup.

I’m guessing this is for Taylor’s benefit, and not because my sister needs it.

She’s beautiful even at her lowest moments, and now that she’s healthier, Jen is movie-star gorgeous with her dark hair, olive-toned skin, and light brown eyes.

She hugs Rhett, flashes me a peace sign—which makes me chuckle—then turns to Taylor. “I’m Jen Anderson.”

“Taylor Maxwell,” Taylor says with a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you. You have a fantastic son.”

“Agreed,” Jen answers as Rhett’s cheeks bloom with twin spots of color. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for him.” She gestures to the chair across from her. “I’d love to hear more about it.”

I can tell Rhett needs his own rendition of a calming song. His shoulders are hiked up to his ears, and he looks like he wants to hurl. But he takes the seat to the right of his mom while I slide into the one next to Taylor.

As nervous as Taylor gets speaking in front of an audience, I can already see that talking to my sister isn’t a problem. She takes a stack of papers from the tote bag I hadn’t even noticed she was carrying and explains what she thinks might be happening with Rhett.

“I’m not a doctor,” she says, “and although my degree is in education, I’m not an expert in learning interventions. But our tactics have helped quite a bit, and I think we can do even better with some additional accommodations.”

“I’ve got one A and four B’s,” Rhett confirms.

“That’s great, kiddo.” Jen looks pleased, but her brows knit together as she reviews the papers Taylor has slid before her. “Why do we need to get the school involved if he’s doing well with you? I’m concerned about him being labeled.”

Rhett shifts uncomfortably, and I give him a gentle nudge with my foot. Hold it together, bruh, I want to tell him. Taylor’s got this.

And she does. She patiently talks Jen through the process, explaining what she thinks would help and answering questions with patience and the right amount of detail. She’s steady, confident, and precisely what Rhett—and maybe even Jen—needs.

Eventually, my sister switches her attention to her son.

“I’m proud of you,” she says, and I can tell she’s trying not to cry. “For making the most of this shitty situation. I’m proud of you for trying and accepting help. Thank you for inspiring me, kiddo.”

He nods and swipes the ratty edge of his oversized hoodie sleeve across his cheeks.

“I’m proud of you, too, Mom. For getting help and supporting me and all that crap.”

Her grin is bright, albeit a little watery at the edges. “All that crap,” she repeats then glances at me.

“Will you schedule a meeting with the school as soon as possible? I want to get this process started.”

“It can wait until you’re out,” I tell her. “Or we can get permission for you to join on a conference call. ”

She shakes her head and glances at Taylor before her gaze settles on Rhett. “I don’t want the stigma of my mistakes affecting you.”

“Mom, I’m not embarrassed. You’re getting help, and you’re going to be good this time. I know it.”

That’s a heavy load for a kid to carry, but Jen nods. “I know it too, buddy. But your uncle?—”

“We’ll wait,” Rhett insists.

She nods, then says, “Not long. As soon as I’m out, and we find a place to live in Skylark…”

Rhett and I blink like owls at her words.

“Do you mean we can stay?” he asks.

“If it feels like home to you, buddy, then it’s where I want us to be. Together.”

Taylor nudges my leg the same way I did to Rhett minutes earlier.

“Hey, Rhett.” I grab a twenty out of my wallet. I should have thought to bring food again, but…well, blame it on the damn nerves. “Will you take Taylor on a tour of the place and grab whatever snacks look good in the cafeteria? I want to talk to your mom for a minute.”

His gaze sharpens on me.

“Nothing’s wrong.” I hold up my hands, palms out. “Just a brother-sister convo.”

Jen squeezes Taylor’s hand as she gets up from the table. “Thank you.”

“Rhett’s done all the heavy lifting, but you’re welcome. I’m happy to be involved.” Taylor scoots around the table and gives Jen a quick hug before following Rhett out of the room.

“She’s good for him,” my sister says once we’re alone at the table. She inclines her head as she studies me. “She’s good for both of you.”

“Yeah.” I run a hand through my hair, and that damn Sound of Music song fills in my head. “She knows a lot more about dealing with kids than me.”

“I’m not talking about that. You like her.”

I roll my eyes. “Come on, Jen. Not liking her would be like hating a kitten.”

“You know the kind of like I mean.”

“Don’t read anything more into it,” I warn her. “She’s not my type, and we both know it.”

“I have a feeling that’s why you like her. Did you break your promise? Because I might forgive you. Taylor seems like she could be an exception to the rule.”

“I didn’t break my promise.” Not technically. “She helped Rhett, and we became friends. That’s it.” I fidget like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar when Jen continues to watch me. “She’s dating that asshole teacher from the high school—the one who started this whole thing with Rhett.”

“Are you in love with her,” Jen asks, sounding astonished.

“Of course not.” The denial tastes bitter in my mouth. “Seriously, Jen. Let it go.”

“It’s not a bad thing, Eric.” She makes a face. “I mean, I don’t recommend opening your heart to assholes like Mom and me. But loving someone isn’t bad, even if it ends. I’m happy for you.”

“You’re happy because you think I got my heart broken? Which, by the way, I didn’t. I keep my heart out of the mix.”

“Yeah.” She nods, her expression thoughtful. “I was afraid you learned that lesson too well. But you’re human.”

“Yeah, I’m fucking human.” I look past her toward the window at the room’s far end.

There are families at other tables. Parents with kids younger than Rhett.

The overall atmosphere in the room is a little tense, but we’re trying.

Every person here has that in common. I hope it’s enough for all of us.

“I’m also shit at relationships. Hell, her brother flat out told her I’m a manwhore.

” I’m totally flustered now, offering up the nickname I detest like some sort of explanatio n

“I remember,” she says quietly. “It doesn’t fit the man you’ve become, Eric.”

“You don’t know that.”

She flashes her patented big sister smirk. “I know you.”

Needing a reprieve from Jen’s too-perceptive gaze, I take my phone from my jacket pocket, unlock it, and then thrust it toward her. “I got this for you.”

She glances at the screen, looks up at me, then takes the phone from my hand. “This is a house .”

“Yep.” Not at all how I’d planned to talk to her or approach the subject of the home I hope she’ll live in once she’s finished with rehab.

“It was a good deal, a possible investment property. You can rent-to-own if you want, or you can just rent. I’ll make it fair.

If you want something different, I’ll flip it and?—”

“Shut the front door,” she whispers, her eyes misting over again.

“The front door’s shut,” I answer around the lump of emotion clogging my throat. Hope and excitement expand in my chest when she doesn’t throw the phone at me or burst into angry tears or get up and walk away.

“It’s a saying, dumbass.” She shakes her head. “I’m expressing disbelief.”

“I know.” I feel my mouth kick up at one side.

“There are more photos of the inside. I took a ton of them so you could get a feel for it. The kitchen’s in good shape.

The bathrooms should be updated, but I can handle that.

” I swallow again, then force myself to continue.

“Before I go back to Germany, I want to get in there and start painting, replace some of the carpet. But as of right now?—”

“Does Rhett know?” She’s still flicking through the photos.

“No. I didn’t want to say anything to him before talking to you. I’m serious about flipping it or finding somebody to rent the property if it’s not what you want.”

“It’s a home.” Her voice trembles. “It’s a home for me and my son.”

“Oh, shit, Jen. Don’t cry,” I say, even as tears prick the backs of my eyes. “Like I said, it was a good investment. But I want you to want it.”

“It’s the house of my dreams.” Her voice is thick with emotion.

“It needs work.”

“Don’t we all.” She hands the phone back to me and grabs my hand. “I’ll work, Eric. I can do this. For Rhett, for me, for our house and the future. Can I get a dog?” She sounds so excited, so hopeful.

We’re grinning at each other like fools. “You can do whatever you want. One of Taylor’s friends is a dog trainer. She said Sadie can recommend a local rescue or help you train.”

“You talked to Taylor about this?”

I can’t read her tone, so I’m back to shifting in my chair like a fifth grade boy whose teacher just called him out for copying test answers from his neighbor. “I wanted a woman’s opinion on the house. Please don’t be ma?—”

“I’m not mad. I just...wow.” She gets up and comes around the table.

“Also, don’t hit me,” I say as I cringe.

“I’m not going to hit you. I’m going to hug you.”

“Oh.” My shoulders relax. “Right.”

“Thank you.” She wraps her arms tight around me. “For all of this. For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” I manage, my voice only cracking on the last syllable. Even though I’d like to make a joke out of this—because that’s what I do to make big emotions manageable—I just hug her back.

Which is how Taylor and Rhett find us.

“What’s going on?” Rhett demands. Clearly, the kid inherited his opinion about demonstrating emotions from me. “Mom, are you okay?”

While Jen turns to him, I glance at Taylor. Tinkerbell doesn’t mind emotions. Her eyes are brimming with tears, but she sniffs and looks away.

“Honey, everything is great,” Jen says, opening her arms to her son. “It will be even better when I get out of here. We’re going to make Skylark our home.”

As they hug, Jen explains the situation with the house to Rhett. She grabs my phone again and shows him the photographs. Taylor joins in on the fun, although she keeps her gaze averted from me.

I hate that, but not even my aching heart can detract from the joy of this moment. My sister’s life—her heart—is on the mend.

Her happiness is going to make any pain that comes my way worth it in the long run.