Taking Back Mary Ellen Black. Lisa Childs

in them now, as he was obviously preoccupied with something else. And I knew what a mistake I’d made. Without seeing him, they could weave the fantasy that he might actually care about them, but seeing him, seeing the blank, bored expression on his weaselly face, they would know the truth. Even Shelby who was usually so blissfully oblivious…

      As he walked up to the table where the hostess was serving them chocolate milk, the girls didn’t meet him with bright smiles. And he didn’t wrap his arms around them, torn apart from missing them. I missed them while they were at school. He hadn’t seen them in several weeks and displayed no joy in seeing them now. Instead, he looked embarrassed, face flushed, and for a man who usually oozed charm, he didn’t look as if he had a clue what to say to them.

      “I’m sorry…”

      I turned at the meek voice near my shoulder as I held back from the table. “What?”

      “I’m sorry…about…”

      I waved a hand at the little blonde’s anxiety. “I said it was okay. Really.” And for me, it would be since I was free of Eddie. But it wouldn’t be for her, not unless she ran like hell. I thought about warning her, but I wasn’t that benevolent. After all, she had known he was a married man even if he’d forgotten.

      “But you were probably expecting…”

      I followed her gaze to the table where Eddie stood above the girls, and they carried on a brief, stilted conversation. My heart ached for the disappointment on their little faces. They wanted what I had with my father; that’s what had inspired last night’s questions. But Eddie would never satisfy their longing. He would never be half the man my father was. “What? A big family reunion?” I shook my head. “No, I wasn’t.” Too much had changed over the last couple of years.

      “Eddie feels bad, really he does.” God, she wasn’t just young; she was stupid, too. “About losing the house and not having any money. It’s killing him that he can’t support them. He feels so guilty that he can’t stand to see them.” Her voice cracked. “There really isn’t any money, you know…”

      A commotion drew my attention away from the stammering blonde to the foyer. Two broad-shouldered guys strode in, knocking aside some of the ferns I’d potted in brass urns. I winced as dirt scattered across the thick burgundy carpet. Eddie backed away from the table, turning toward the hall to his office without even a goodbye to his daughters.

      “Eddie!” the guys shouted and stopped his retreat.

      The blonde clutched my arm. “Oh, God!”

      I refrained from shaking her off and peered closer at the new customers. “Dougie?”

      The guy with the most muscles and least neck turned toward me, staring intently from beneath a bushy unibrow. “Mary Ellen? Mary Ellen Black?”

      “Dougie. I haven’t seen you in years.” Not since high school. Dougie hadn’t graduated with Jenna and me, though. Instead, he’d been doing time for some offense or other.

      “Great to see you. You’re looking great.” From the appreciative gleam in his eyes, I figured he meant it.

      “So you got married?” he asked.

      I nodded. “I’m divorced now. There’re my girls—” I gestured toward where the girls sat, wide-eyed at all the goings-on. Plates of pancakes growing cold in front of them.

      “Cute kids,” he murmured.

      Even a hoodlum’s compliments swelled my mother’s pride. “Yeah, they are.”

      “I’ve got a couple of boys,” he said. “I married Sue. Remember Sue?”

      There had been about ten girls named Sue in every class I’d attended, but I nodded. “Give her my best.”

      “Mary Ellen!” Eddie’s voice rose with impatience. Not that he seemed particularly eager to talk to his visitors, but I guess he didn’t want me talking to them, either.

      “I’m sorry. You all have business. The girls and I will leave now. Say goodbye to Daddy.”

      I hustled them out the door, not worrying about paying the bill or leaving a tip. Except I did stop near the ’ho. “You can do better,” I told her. That was probably the best tip she’d ever gotten, no matter how long she’d been waitressing.

      The girls and I walked past a Lincoln Navigator parked too close to the doors, and headed toward the Bonneville.

      “I didn’t like the food there,” Amber said. “Can we get something to eat at the mall?”

      As they climbed into the back seat, I fought the urge to drag them into my arms for reassuring hugs. “Sure we can. Shoe shopping always makes me hungry.” And so I’d blow the rest of my poker winnings and leftover VFW tips.

      “I don’t want to eat here anymore,” Shelby declared, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

      “That’s up to you two. Whatever you want.” And it was. Eddie hadn’t requested any scheduled visitation.

      “I used to want to go home,” Amber admitted. “Back to our old house. Back to my old school, too. But there’re some neat people at the new one. They don’t care what you wear or where you live…” Not like the wannabe high-class neighborhood where we’d lived. “Some don’t even speak English,” Amber said, probably impressed someone talked less than she did; with her shyness, she usually spoke very little.

      Shelby nodded. “Yeah, it’s okay.” And maybe it was. But they deserved more. And somehow I had to get it for them…for all of us.

      CHAPTER I

      Initiation

       “Remember that I warned you how crazy it gets around here,” Jenna said Monday morning, before I had even swung my purse from my shoulder. No laced tea had mellowed her this morning. “People will yell at you. I will yell at you. Tell her, Vicki.”

      The woman sitting as close to the desk as her swollen belly would allow nodded. “She can be a miserable bitch, worse than me with these raging pregnancy hormones.”

      “You regretting the job offer?” I asked. My gut clenched with nerves. I’d been a lot more comfortable at the VFW.

      Jenna, in a crisp, burnt sienna–colored pantsuit, shrugged as if it didn’t matter to her. But her dark eyes wouldn’t meet my gaze, wouldn’t let me see if she cared if we resumed our friendship, and that gave me hope that she did care. Maybe she was scared to let me know it. “You regretting taking the job?”

      “No, not yet.” Because I wanted this opportunity for employment and friendship.

      “You might.”

      I shrugged, too, but my shoulders retained all the tension I was feeling. “You might regret it more. I don’t have any experience.”

      She nodded, but her hair stayed in the perfect knot on the back of her head. “Well, hell, it’s worth a try, huh?”

      I hoped she was talking about the job and the friendship. “Sure.”

      “Vicki will show you the ropes. I’ve got a breakfast appointment.” She was gone before I’d yet to swing my purse from my shoulder.

      “Here, I lock mine in the desk,” Vicki said, grabbing the bag from me. Since the front of the building housing the mortgage office was a wall of windows looking onto a street that had seen better economic days, locking up one’s valuables seemed like a wise decision. But maybe a cheap lock on a metal desk wouldn’t be enough. And the computers that topped each of the two desks in the outer office were openly on display. Those windows needed blinds.

      And the plain beige walls needed some color, maybe some paintings with vivid hues. The soft gray, metal desks could use some vases of flowers to spruce them up and relieve the commercial look of the office. But it was an office, not a house. I couldn’t