“I’m not implying anything. I’m asking if you’re being careful around Jimmy.”
“We’re certainly not doing anything wrong, Clay, and furthermore, I don’t see why you would think it was any of....”
The back door flew open and banged against the wall, startling them both. They whirled around to see Becca’s youngest sister, Brittnie struggling into the room. Her arms were full of a large scrapbook and several photograph albums. A small baker’s box rode precariously on top. Her face was turned away as she steadied the box against her cheek.
“Hi, Sis,” she huffed, reaching behind her with her foot to shut the door against the March breeze, and at the same time, making a grab for the sliding box. “I picked up the stuff you wanted from Dan’s Bakery. His wedding cakes are the best in town. He sent a photo album of his best cakes and a sample of the lemon one. I had the chocolate one last year at Brenda Luna’s reception. It was wonderful. I think you and Barry will be happy with any of them.” Abandoning her struggle with the door, she turned around and said, “Hey, can you help me out here? I’ve got my hands full, you know, and you’re just standing there like your shoes are nailed to the...” Her eyes widened and her voice trailed off when she spotted Clay. “Floor,” she finished in a sinking tone. She darted a quick glance at Becca, licked her lips and said meekly, “Hi, Clay.”
“Hello, Brittnie.” He straightened away from the table and moved toward her with a smooth, gliding stride that made Becca think of a stalking panther. “What did you say you’ve got there?”
Brittnie, whom Becca had always considered to be the fast thinker in the family, whipped around, dumped the articles on the counter behind her sister, then stood shoulder to shoulder with her and gave her former brother-in-law a big, empty-headed smile. “Oh, nothing, just some...Oh, nothing.”
Clay stood before the two of them and tried to peek over their shoulders. “What was all the talk about wedding cakes?”
“Dad, I put my book away,” Jimmy shouted from the living room. His pounding feet were fast approaching the kitchen. “Can we go now?”
When he skidded to a halt in the doorway, Becca looked at his expectant face, then threw a frantically pleading glance at Brittnie, who leaped away from the counter and swooped toward her nephew.
“Hey, Sport,” she said cheerily. “Your mom and dad need to have a little talk. Why don’t you show me your rock collection?” Over his loud protests, she swept him into her arms.
“You already saw my rock collection,” he insisted, arching away from her and giving his parents ah anxious look. “Are Mom and Dad gonna have a fight?”
“No, no, of course not,” Brittnie assured him though her voice had an edge that said she didn’t believe that, either.
“’Cause I don’t like it when they fight.”
“They won’t fight,” she reassured him as she hustled him away.
In the kitchen, Becca stared at Clay, as fascinated as a cobra held fast by a mongoose. Bit by bit, the polite but cool expression he had worn for the past half hour crumbled away as if a stone mask was being chipped off.
His eyes darkened, his thick brows drew together like gathering thunderclouds and his jaw tightened. “Wedding cakes, Becca?” he asked in a silky tone. “Now just why would you be interested in wedding cakes? And why would Barry be interested in wedding cakes right along with you?”
Becca felt as if her heart had dropped to her stomach, then bounced back up again. Now it was stuck behind her esophagus, cutting off her air. She cleared her throat and opened her dry mouth to speak, but it was a moment before anything came out.
“We...uh, we...he...’re getting mar...married,” she wheezed, stretching the words out, then could have kicked herself for reacting as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.
“Married?” he asked, moving to stand towering over her. “You and Barry?”
“That’s...that’s right.”
“This is the first I’ve heard of it, Becca. In fact, I just learned five minutes ago that you two are dating.”
“Well, well, we are,” she bluffed, holding her chin at such an exaggerated angle that she feared her jaw would crack. “I’ve been dating Barry for three months now.”
“And now you’re going to many him?”
“That’s right. We...we just made the decision a few days ago.” Finally, her fear of his reaction began to fade and her natural stubbornness kicked in. “And frankly, I don’t see that this is really any of your business, Clay.”
“The hell it isn’t. Anything that affects my son is my business and your remarriage will definitely affect him. What does he think of this, by the way?”
Becca glanced away. “He likes Barry.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Clay reached out, snagged her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her to look at him. “What does Jimmy think about having Barry for a stepfather?”
Although the rough callouses on his thumb chaffed her skin, Becca didn’t pull away. She met his eyes steadily.
After a moment, Clay’s eyes widened in shock, his hand dropped to his side and he said, “I’ll be damned. You haven’t told him yet, have you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
Now she was losing her defensiveness and getting angry, too. “Don’t swear at me, Clay. I haven’t told him yet because I was waiting for the right moment.”
Clay’s hands rose slowly to his waist and his jaw thrust forward belligerently. “And just when would that be? Five minutes before you walked down the aisle?”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t tell him yet because I didn’t want to spoil his skiing vacation with you.” Immediately, she knew she had said the wrong thing, but she couldn’t backtrack now.
Clay jumped on her mistake like a cat landing on a mouse. “Are you listening to yourself?” he asked in a scoffing tone. “If news of your marriage would spoil his vacation, then it must not be good news.”
Becca’s hands dropped and curled into fists. “I meant that he would be thinking about it a great deal and not enjoying his time with you.” Finally, she just shut her mouth, knowing she was doing nothing but making things worse. She took a deep breath. “Listen, this isn’t getting us anywhere. Why don’t you go on your skiing trip and have a good time? When you get back, we’ll sit down together with Jimmy and explain everything.”
Clay stared at her. “Fat chance.”
“You said yourself that his reaction to our divorce would be much easier for him if he thinks we’re on friendly terms.”
“I wasn’t talking about this! Besides, why would he think we would be on friendly terms about you marrying again, Bec? We haven’t been on friendly terms about much of anything in two years.”
“Then it’s time we started,” Becca snapped.
She longed for him to leave, to let her sit down, rub away the headache that was beginning to pound in her temples and figure out how she had made such a mess of this when she’d had it so carefully planned.
Clay drew away, his hands dropped to his sides where they opened and closed a couple of times as he said, “This isn’t the end of this, Becca. You have no right to spring something like this on Jimmy—or on me, for that matter.”
He turned and strode from the room, snatching up Jimmy’s duffel bag and calling his name as he went. Becca was left to slump against the counter and try to catch her breath.
“Stupid,