Chapter 5 #2
Rachel mouthed something to Gavin that Travis didn’t quite catch and gave a wave to her boys.
Perhaps—and Travis wasn’t ready to call this one yet—Gavin was not quite the jerk that Travis and Dane thought he was. Jury was still out, no verdict yet.
“I want this, you know?” Rachel said to no one in particular but, since it was just Travis out there—everyone else had gone back inside—he figured there was a solid chance she was addressing him. “But I also wish they made breathable Bubble Wrap for eight-year-olds.”
“Kids don’t need Bubble Wrap, they need a dose of falling on their ass to learn from their mistakes.” Falling on his ass taught him the most effective life lessons.
That sentiment, however, earned him a teeth-gritted glare.
What? He wasn’t wrong here.
“I think he’s sorry about the puppies,” Mom said, coming up behind Travis on the porch.
Funny, he’d thought she went back inside with the rest of them. Someone should put a bell on her; the woman managed to be everywhere at once.
“Agreed,” Rachel said, the Travis glare melting a little. “If he’s not sorry now, he’ll be sorry by tomorrow morning.”
Mom gave a chuckle. “Serves him a bit right, you know?”
“Maybe I don’t feel so guilty after all.” Rachel started back into the house. “I mean I’ve got a whole night just for me. Maybe I’ll curl up with a book, leave my work cell in the office, and get a solid four hours of shut-eye.”
“You deserve it, dear,” Mom said as she hustled to the back yard, probably to figure out where she’d lost his dad sometime during the party.
Four hours? Of sleep? And that was “solid?”
Was Rachel a cyborg? With the kids gone, she should raise her expectations and go for a full nine.
He’d be happy to help out with that. He was just that nice of a guy. “I’ll get started on cleanup.”
“It’s okay.” Rachel seemed to fight a yawn as she waved him off. “I’ll deal with it.”
“Nah.” Travis didn’t exactly have plans. He’d probably even go home, sleep, and hit the office tomorrow. For a bit, anyway. Then he’d go flying. Not the corporate jet; that thing was a beast.
“It’s really fine.” Rachel yawned and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. “I’ll leave most of it for tomorrow, anyway.”
“I’m here now.” Travis looked over the mess that seemed as though the third-graders had gone to war with a bunch of slime-wielding wombats…and the wombats won.
“I don’t need help.” Her gaze traveled around the mess, and her face fell. Clearly, she needed help.
He reached for a puddle of slime chilling out on the end table. The slithery mess fell through his fingers. “I can scrub slime.”
“I said—” She shook her head. “I’ve got it.”
He let the slime fall to the glass-topped wood. “You sure do like to do things yourself, don’t you?”
“Yup.” She wiped the slime into her hand, sauntering to the nearest bin and dumping it. It stuck between her fingers.
“Why?” He grabbed a Kleenex and handed it to her for the residual slime.
“That way I know it’s done right.” Two swipes and she tossed the tissue into the bin with the slime.
Mom and Dad slid open the door from the yard. Mom stilled, clearly—for the first time—taking in the gravity of the mess.
“How can I help?” Mom asked, rolling up her sleeves.
“I’ve got it,” Rachel replied, wiping up another puddle of goop. “Seriously. You all can head out.”
“Rachel likes to do things by herself.” Travis pressed his lips together.
“We should call Gavin, make him get his tush back here and help with this.” Evelyn looked at Bob. “Call your son.”
Rachel pointed to Bob. “Do not do that. I finally got the kids in his car; I don’t know if I can do that twice.”
Mom heaved a sigh, grabbing a waste bin and tossing empty cups and plates in. “You know, Rachel, Gavin talks about you all the time. Why you can’t make things right between you, I’ll never understand. The amount of stubborn in the lot of you stresses out my cat.”
Travis rubbed at his forehead. Things never went well when his mother brandished the feelings of her nonexistent feline.
“You don’t have a cat,” Travis said from the side of his mouth.
“Don’t tell me what I do or don’t have.” Mom huffed, puffing up like she did when she wasn’t getting her way and Dad probably wouldn’t step in to remedy the injustice.
“Gavin talks about the boys, Evelyn,” Rachel supplied emphatically, putting her hand out for the trash can. “And as I’ve said many, many times, Gavin and I are great friends, and that’s all.” The point would have been well made, except Rachel yawned again.
Travis gave her extra points for the certainty with which she spoke, but the yawn totally mucked up the delivery.
Hell, if she weren’t careful, she’d fall asleep and tip right over on the porch.
Mom released her grip on the bin, letting Rachel take it.
“Talking about the boys is talking about you.” Mom ignored the rest of what Rachel had said, like the pretend cat she liked to go on and on about.
“It’s really not,” Rachel said.
Travis shuddered at the look on Mom’s face. Rachel clearly needed to make this point, because usually she just stepped aside when Mom was on a tear.
Mom wasn’t used to being challenged. Hell, she’d been talking about the pretend cat since before Travis could remember.
“Gavin and I were never meant to be,” Rachel continued as though she hadn’t seen Mom’s expression or what that meant for everyone’s evening.
“We were an accident, and we became friends. I’m grateful for his friendship.
Grateful we share kids. You have to know that we’re not going to get back together, though. He has Dakota.”
“Pssh.” Mom steeled her expression. “You both need to give the other another chance. It hasn’t been easy for Bob and me, either. We make it work.”
“You and Bob love each other,” Rachel said, doubling down on her willingness to stand strong against his mother. He had to give Rachel mad props. Engaging with his mother like this never went well. But Rachel was going all in.
“And you don’t love my Gavin?” Mom arched an eyebrow.
See, now that felt like a trap if a trap ever was. Mom was the queen of spinning webs, and anyone who spent time in her life had to learn to avoid them.
Travis hoped Rachel had learned how to do just that.
Rachel paused, thoughtful, clearly selecting her words carefully. She opened her mouth, shut it, opened it again, shut it, and finally said, “No, I don’t love him.”
Travis winced on behalf of his brother. Ouch.
Mom’s expression fell, and her lips slipped into a deep frown.
That frown hit Travis right in his gut.
“Well,” Mom said. “I guess that’s that.”
There was no way that was that. His mother’s traps were always incredibly inventive. The web on this one was barely a thin string, and yet Mom let Rachel bat it aside with hardly a fight. Impossible. Impossible that this was done.
Plus, he’d be sorely disappointed if they ended on that note. So dissatisfying for the bystanders.
“I really do care about you,” Rachel continued. “If you’d consider dropping this preoccupation with Gavin and me, I’d reconsider hopping on a plane to the lake house.”
Look at Rachel, manipulating her agreement in her favor.
Mom clearly thought so, too, because she stilled.
And, maybe, just maybe Travis was the only witness to the most impressive battle of wills in the history of the planet.
Although, that might be a bit of an exaggeration.
Probably.
Mom swallowed visibly. “That’s what keeps you away from our family functions?”
“Honestly?” Rachel asked, rocking from foot to foot ever so slightly.
“Yes. It makes me uncomfortable, and Gavin and Dakota can’t possibly be comfortable with it, either.
No matter what you think, they’re getting married.
It’s happening. I’ve been helping her pick out mini tuxedos for the twins.
So if you want me to attend these things, that type of passive-aggressive has to stop. ”
Travis’s jaw slipped open. Rachel had just said…to his mother…
What world was he living in? Gavin was apologizing and not taking it back, Rachel was standing up to Mom, there were puppies… Nothing was as it should be.