Prejudice Meets Pride Read online

  A kid’s show blared from the TV, and the girls sat on the couch, staring at it with two discarded cereal bowls resting at their feet. Emma smiled at the sight and leaned down to kiss them both on the forehead. “Look at you two, getting your own breakfast. I’m so impressed.”

  “You were sleeping,” Adelynn said matter-of-factly.

  “Yes, I was,” said Emma. “But you could have woken me up.”

  “We know,” said Kajsa, her large blue eyes glued to the TV.

  Emma patted them on the head, picked up the bowls, and left them to their show so she could make her own breakfast. She paused when she walked into the kitchen, taking in the mess that met her eyes. A box of Cheerios was tipped on its side, surrounded by scattered and smashed cereal. A puddle of milk lay next to the cereal, having already bled down the side of one of the cabinets. The toast crumbs and blobs of jelly completed the picture.

  Oy.

  With a sigh, Emma moved forward to start cleaning. As she rinsed the dishes, she glanced out the window at the backyard. Her eyes widened. Someone was mowing her lawn, and someone else was trimming it. They wore matching shirts as though—

  No, Kevin wouldn’t. Especially not after she specifically asked him to stop doing stuff like this.

  Except he would.

  Breakfast forgotten, Emma shut off the water and stalked past the girls, “Stay here. I’ll be back in a sec, okay?”

  They barely nodded in agreement. Emma headed straight to his door and banged her fist against the beautiful wood. It soon opened, revealing a freshly showered Kevin dressed in a polo shirt and khaki shorts, as though ready to hit the golf course.

  He looked her up and down with a raised eyebrow. “You really didn’t have to dress up for me.”

  Emma glanced down, realizing she wore a pair of old, comfy athletic shorts, along with a loose-fitting t-shirt and no bra. She quickly folded her arms over her chest and glared. “Call them off right now.”

  “Call who off?” He was all wide-eyed innocence, reminding Emma of how Adelynn looked after telling a whopper. The phony.

  “Your lawn service guys.”

  “Why? They’re almost finished.”

  “How could you do this when I specifically told you not to?” Emma exclaimed. “You had no right.”

  Kevin’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry, but after you asked to borrow my lawnmower—which I don’t have—I thought you’d be okay with it. Possibly even grateful, though I’ll admit, that was a long shot.”

  “Grateful? For putting me even more in your debt? Didn’t you listen to a word I said yesterday?”

  “I was listening,” said Kevin. “I heard you ask to borrow a lawnmower. How is this any different?”

  “Because it is!” How could he not understand that? Borrowing was one thing. Paying someone to mow her lawn was another.

  Kevin leaned against his doorjamb, folding his arms. “Emma, you make no sense. I buy you groceries, and you get mad at me. I help you get your sprinklers working, and you say thanks. I tell you I’ll fix your sprinkler head then come home to find it already fixed. When I offer you a legitimate job, you turn it down, and yet you have no problem asking to borrow my lawnmower. And now we’re back to where we started with you yelling at me for doing something nice. Are you bipolar or something?”

  Emma’s eyes narrowed. He was an educated guy. Why was this so difficult for him to understand? She let out a breath of frustration and tried once more. “Listen, I really appreciate all you’ve done for me—”

  “And tried to do,” he said.

  “And tried to do,” she repeated. “But this needs to end right now. Borrowing a lawnmower is completely different than letting you pay someone to do it for me.”

  He pressed his lips together in thought before he nodded slowly. “So it’s a money thing.”

  “Yes!” Finally, the light had clicked on. About time.

  He cocked his head to the side. “So tell me this: If I did own a lawnmower and it was me you saw outside your window this morning, instead of my guys, would I be getting yelled at right now? Because I wouldn’t technically be buying anything for you then.”

  Emma faltered, not knowing how to answer. Yes, she’d have a problem with it, but she was at a loss as to how to explain why. She felt like stomping her foot like the girls sometimes did and yelling, “I can do it myself!” Why, oh why, had she ever asked to borrow a lawnmower in the first place? “You don’t have a lawnmower, so it’s beside the point.”

  “Aha.” He pointed a finger at her and moved toward her, making Emma fall back a step. “Admit it. It isn’t just about the money. You flat out don’t want my help, period. And why is that, by the way? I heard that Sam volunteered to watch your girls anytime you need, and Becky mentioned she’s brought you dinner a couple of times. Did you yell at them too?” He took another step forward and she back. “No, you didn’t, did you? But something tells me that if I were to offer to watch your girls or bring you dinner, you’d have a problem with that, right?”

  Emma bit her lip and glanced at her house. She should have never come here. She should have let those yard guys finish their job and mentally added whatever it would have cost to her current IOU to Kevin. But that was no longer an option.

  “No,” she finally answered, meeting his gaze. “Feel free to watch the girls or bring me dinner any time you want. And if you ever do get a lawnmower, by all means, mow away.” She started toward her house before glancing back. “So long as you let me reimburse you for the gas.”

  His quiet laughter sounded behind her as she made her way home with her arms still crossed over her chest. Kevin wasn’t exactly the dinner-making, babysitting type—at least, she didn’t think he was—and he didn’t own a lawnmower either. So as far as Emma was concerned, problem solved.

  But that was before she spotted a shiny new, red and black lawnmower being unloaded from Becky’s husband’s truck into Kevin’s garage later that day.

  Kevin finished pouring gas into the tank of his new lawnmower and perused the owner’s manual for instructions on how to start the thing. It was kind of pathetic that he’d never mowed a lawn before, but his parents had always hired a service, and when Kevin finally purchased his first home, he’d done the same. It never really occurred to him to do it himself.

  Until now.

  It had only been six days since Emma’s lawn had been mowed, and it didn’t really need it since it was only just beginning to show signs of life again, but her car was gone, and Kevin was anxious to give his new toy a try. With any luck, he could have the lawn mowed before she returned and still get dinner prepped for his second date with Nicole that night.

  His phone rang with a call from his mother. As his thumb hovered over the Accept button, Kevin waffled. He really didn’t feel like talking to her at the moment, but if he ignored the call, she’d call back in an hour, then again every hour after that until he picked up. She was predictable like that. After the fourth buzz, he resigned himself to an uncomfortable conversation and answered.

  “Hello, Mother.”

  “Darling, how are you?” As usual, her tone was cool and collected. She never really got angry, but she was never really happy either. Always just… neutral. There was a time when he was younger that Kevin could remember a different mom. One who laughed and cried, yelled and squealed. It was so long ago that sometimes Kevin wondered if the hazy memory was real or just his imagination.

  “Great. And you?”

  “I couldn’t be better.”

  Which meant that his father’s re-election campaign was running smoothly. Well, good for him. For all of his standoffish ways, the man really did make an admirable senator. He was honest, opinionated, and loved the law and constitution more than anything else—probably even his family.

  “I’m glad.” Kevin’s eyes scanned the street, worried that he’d see Sunshine come around the corner any minute. He needed to get her lawn mowed soon. “So, what’s up?”

  “
Oh, Kevin, do you have to use that deplorable slang all the time? It sounds so juvenile and trite.”

  “Sure, Ma. Whatevs,” Kevin said, just because he couldn’t resist.

  “That was very adult of you,” his mother answered. Still cool. Still calm. Still neutral.

  “You did just call me juvenile.”

  A sigh sounded on the other end of the line before his mother changed the subject. “So tell me, how did your date go with—what was her name? Nicole, right?”

  “Right.” Kevin had no doubt that his mother remembered Nicole’s name. She’d probably already Googled her and checked into her family connections. And if she was asking about the date and not encouraging him to look elsewhere, his mother obviously approved of what she’d found. Just as Kevin knew she would. Nicole was not only intelligent and successful in her own right, but her father was a renowned cardiologist.

  But her impressive credentials weren’t the reason Kevin had asked her out. He didn’t even know about them at the time. He thought she was beautiful, had a great sense of humor, and seemed genuine. They’d met in a furniture store when they’d both eyed the same recliner. She’d wanted it as a gift for her father, and Kevin, as a gift for himself. They shared a few laughs, figured out they had several things in common, and ultimately she walked away with the recliner and Kevin with her number. Win-win. The fact that she was everything his mother wanted for him, and seemed to be everything he’d always wanted for himself, made her the perfect candidate as the future wife of Kevin Grantham.

  Why, then, wasn’t he more excited about the second date he’d lined up?

  “Well…?” his mother prodded when Kevin didn’t answer right away.

  “It went great, thanks for asking.”

  “Wonderful.” Her voice was actually tinged with some enthusiasm this time. “I take it you will be seeing her again?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Perfect. I can’t wait to hear all about it.” Not that she really meant it. His mom never wanted the nitty gritty details—she was much too busy for that. She only wanted to assure herself that Kevin wasn’t veering too far from the course his parents had outlined for his life. And Kevin agreed that it was time for him to settle down, but he didn’t want to marry just anyone—he wanted something more than his parents had. He wanted something real.

  And Nicole could be it. Only time would tell.

  “I’ve got a lawn to mow, so I’ve got to go,” said Kevin.

  “I thought you had a service.”

  “I do.”

  “Then why—”

  “I’m planning to mow my neighbor’s lawn.”

  “Why?”

  “Because her lawnmower isn’t working and she can’t afford to fix it.”

  “But you don’t have a lawnmower.”

  “I do now.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line before his mother said. “And how old is this new neighbor of yours?”

  “I have no idea. Old enough to have two kids.”

  “Oh.” A pause. “Why isn’t her husband mowing her lawn?”

  “She doesn’t have a husband,” Kevin said. “Listen, I really need to go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  “Very well,” came her curt reply.

  Kevin shoved the phone back in his pocket, pushed the mower’s choke lever down like the instructions dictated, and yanked on the pull cord. A satisfying rumble sounded as Kevin started his first lawnmower engine.

  Emma’s purse hit the kitchen counter with a thud as her eyes strayed to the backyard, where the girls were running around on grass that seemed a little less yellow every day. At least that was something to be happy about, unlike the horrible interview she’d just come from.

  A stack of mail sat on the counter, and Emma flipped through the letters, wishing she’d left them alone when she came across the credit card bill with a balance nearing the maximum limit. She tossed it aside and glanced at the next letter. When she saw it was from Waterworks Plus, a soft water company she’d interviewed with the week before, her stomach clenched. They would have called her if she’d gotten the job, so the letter obviously meant she hadn’t. She ripped it open, and sure enough, it was a rejection letter.

  The words “We wish you success with your ongoing job search” blurred as tears of frustration dampened the corners of her eyes. Emma leaned against the counter and gazed at the girls once more. What was she going to do? She’d been through seven interviews this week and already had five rejections to show for it—no, make that six because there was no way she’d get an offer from the company she’d just met with. The fact was that Emma wasn’t cut out for office work. She couldn’t type fast, she didn’t know Excel or PowerPoint or any of the other programs she’d been asked about, and she wasn’t exactly the most organized person around either.

  But what she could do wasn’t in demand right now.

  It appeared as though she was headed for a cashier position, or worse, the fast food industry. She’d even consider waitressing, but most places would want her to work nights, and she couldn’t do that. Emma had promised her brother she’d be there for the girls, and a promise was a promise. She’d already left them with Sam far more than she was comfortable with, although with the girls starting school next week, that wouldn’t continue for much longer.

  With a sigh, Emma tossed the letter into the garbage and headed for the back door. She found Sam sitting on the top steps, watching the girls play.

  “Hey girl,” Emma said, dropping down next to her.

  “How did the interview go?” Sam asked, looking hopeful.

  “Not that great,” Emma admitted. “I was way under qualified and couldn’t come close to pretending that I wasn’t. Speaking of which, have you ever heard of a program called Accent or Axis or something like that?”

  “You mean Access?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.” Emma frowned. She couldn’t even remember the stupid name. “I guess that’s a pretty important program to know for the position. And I don’t know it.”

  An expression of sympathy crossed Sam’s face. It was a look Emma was getting really sick of seeing on other people’s faces when they looked at her.

  “Maybe we can find a YouTube video on it, and you can learn how to use the program that way?”

  Emma waved her off. “You’re sweet, but no. I think I need to start looking for a different kind of job.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll find something soon.”

  “You’re too good to me,” Emma said with a wan smile, looking closer at the grass and dried, scattered grass blades on the concrete. “Did the lawn get mowed?”

  Sam nodded, then laughed. “Kevin told me not to tell you. He said you’d never notice.”

  Emma held back a groan. More than anything, she wanted to yell at him again and tell him to stop. But how could she do that when she was the one who’d told him he could? Although it would be nice not to worry about how her lawn would get cut, it drove her crazy that she couldn’t pay Kevin back. Or Becky, for all the dinners she’d brought over. Or Sam, for all the babysitting. This was getting out of control. Emma needed to find a job.

  “I really wish I could pay you, Sam.” It was killing her that she couldn’t, but Sam couldn’t exactly take a credit card.

  “I love watching them. It doesn’t feel like work at all. Someday I’ll let you repay me by giving me art lessons. Kajsa showed me some of the pictures you’ve painted. You’re amazing.”

  Hope flared in Emma’s eyes. Finally, something she could do for someone else. “Sam, I’d love to give you lessons if you’re really interested. Tell you what, after you get settled into school next week and know what your schedule will be like, let’s talk and find a time that works.”

  A broad smile spread across Sam’s face. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, Emma.”

  “Thank you, Sam.” The thought of giving back felt good. Really good. Emma hadn’t realized how much she’d missed that feeling late
ly and couldn’t wait to get started. The girls could even sit in on them as well. It would be fun. Definitely something to look forward to.

  Sam said something about dinner before waving goodbye to the girls, but Emma was too lost in her thoughts to do more than wave back. She was already thinking about the lessons. They’d start off with some simple sketches, work up to charcoals and eventually pastels and water color. And when Sam was ready, Emma could even introduce her to oils. Idea after idea filled Emma’s mind as the girls pushed each other on an old swing hanging from a large elm tree.

  Maybe it was time to get started on that fairy room for them. The boxes she’d shipped from Connecticut had finally arrived, and Emma had a bunch of leftover paint samples from a project she’d done in the summer. Maybe it would be enough for the room.

  Emma stood and walked toward the girls. Adelynn was swinging while Kajsa pushed from behind. “Mind if I give it a try?” she asked Kajsa.

  “Yay!” they both chimed, before arguing about whose turn it was to swing. When they finally ironed out a system—five minutes for Kajsa and five for Adelynn—they spent the next hour enjoying the warm, late afternoon air and the shade of the enormous tree. It was a magical time—one that made Emma feel as though life was good again. She didn’t want it to end.

  A high-pitched shrill sounded from the house, and Emma spun around to see smoke billowing out of the open kitchen door. Her jaw dropped, not wanting to believe what she saw. Was her house on fire? Please no. It couldn’t be. Not on top of everything else.

  When the incessant beeping of what sounded like a car alarm didn’t subside, Kevin left his marinated chicken on the counter and walked outside to investigate. The noise was coming from inside Emma’s house. What the—

  The side gate flew open, banging against the fence that separated their yards, and Emma emerged, tugging Adelynn and Kajsa quickly along. Kevin rushed forward to meet them.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  Emma looked at him with worried eyes. “I don’t know. There’s smoke coming from the kitchen. I think there might be a fire. Will you take the girls to Becky’s so I can find out what’s going on?”