Motherhood Without Parole. Tanya Michaels

always expected Paul to be the glue that held them together as a family unit. And she’d anticipated half of that unit would keep attending school up the coast.

      What if they hate me? What if I suck at this?

      No. Swinging her feet to the carpet, Kate gave herself a mental pinch. She rarely allowed herself to suck at anything. And negativity was a self-fulfilling prophecy.

      The kids weren’t troublemakers and they’d be in school most of the time, leaving her free to do her job as long as she found reliable help for a few hours each afternoon. She didn’t expect mothering to be easy, but millions of women worldwide managed it, and she’d always been very capable. Plus, she still had a week to prepare. Seeing Paul tomorrow should go a long way toward reassuring her—they already had one month of his sentence behind him. Less than five to go. She could definitely handle single-parenting for under five months.

      She padded to the bathroom to brush her teeth, her confidence restored. Kate St. James was a survivor. Nothing life or SEC regulations threw at her could reduce her to being Katherine Brewster again.

      Ash, beech and poplar trees wouldn’t change colors and hit their peak foliage until mid-October, but beneath the eighty-degree sunshine in the parking lot blew an incongruent breeze that predicted fall’s arrival next month. Kate smoothed her hair and held her head high, this short walk suddenly more daunting than the entire drive over state lines.

      At the sentencing Paul had squeezed her hand and tried to joke there were worse things that could happen over the summer than being sent to camp. Thank God no one on the prosecuting side had heard the remark. Public opinion already held that big-business crooks showed a distinct lack of remorse—hence increasingly stiff penalties for comparatively small infractions. But Paul had never set out to be a crook. His flippant remark had been only an attempt to reassure his new wife.

      He wouldn’t quite make it home for their first anniversary, but he would be back by Valentine’s Day. Frankly she’d be willing to skip that holiday for the rest of their lives. Her bigger concern was Christmas. As much as she’d disliked Lorna growing up, Kate would have been startled to lose her. And everyone had adored the much-missed Heather. Had Neve and PJ acclimated yet to holidays without their mother? This year they wouldn’t have their father either.

      Only me.

      A cheery thought to take with her as she walked from her locked car to the interior gated perimeter. She’d already passed through one arm of security to drive onto the grounds. She’d also had to fill out legal paperwork weeks ago simply to apply for the chance to spend a few minutes with her husband. The list of rules and regulations, including clothing restrictions, had made her laugh drily. Did they think she wanted to come in here flashing midriff and extreme cleavage? Classy.

      Khaki was also forbidden. Anything that looked too similar to what the prisoners themselves wore was forbidden. But if prison administrators were worried about her blending in, shouldn’t her being female help them pick her out of a crowd?

      The internal sarcasm threatened to erupt into actual dialogue when a guard patted her down before allowing her to enter. Adolescent modeling auditions that had bordered on exploitative and a few grope-happy dates in her twenties had left her with a distaste for strange men touching her. Even knowing that the young man with the carefully blank expression was just doing his job, Kate flinched, hating him a little for that.

      Realizing Paul must suffer the same indignities and worse, she forced a smile for her husband’s benefit. In a moment he would be joining her, and she didn’t want him to see her discomfort. She stood in the lounge area where they would spend their visit and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Lounge seemed a glorified term for the collection of tables and padded chairs. It somehow resembled a library with no books and a grim color scheme.

      “Kate!” Escorted by a guard, Paul crossed through the security doorway, beaming and still handsome despite the circles under his familiar eyes.

      Her own smile wobbled before blossoming into something more genuine. Lord, she’d missed him. The brutal realization of how much was actually a relief. Her emotions had been on mute since the trial, as if the feelings were there somewhere in closed-captioning, but she’d been too numb to truly experience them.

      When Paul’s arms went around her, she hugged him tightly, trying to ignore the unpleasant sensation of being watched. The guard sitting in the corner made no effort to downplay his scrutiny of the mostly empty room. Visible security cameras recorded every action.

      Paul let go but held her gaze as he said a gruff hello.

      They sat a few tables from another inmate and, judging by the two men’s similar facial features, his brother. Both men sent Kate appreciative glances. Her stomach flipped queasily, but she squared her shoulders, lifting her chin a notch.

      “I can’t believe you’re finally here.” Paul’s words drew both her attention and guilt.

      Finally here. She should have come sooner. “I’m sorry. Things at work… I need to make sure that my job continues to—not that it’s more important than you.”

      “Katie.” Despite the lackluster uniform and worry lines that had deepened since she’d seen him last, his patient green eyes twinkled. “You don’t owe me apologies. You aren’t the one who did anything wrong.”

      Should she tell him he hadn’t either? They both knew it wasn’t true. He’d made mistakes, and sometimes carelessness was criminal. Pretending otherwise would be a lie. Their young marriage wasn’t cut out for the strain of dishonesty on top of everything else.

      “I’ve missed you,” she told him.

      “Same goes.” He was quiet for a moment. “I’ve been looking forward to this visit, but there’s something I need to discuss with you.” Despite the resigned declaration, he hesitated.

      “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.” She hadn’t run screaming for the hills thus far.

      “The kids will be getting back next Monday.”

      She nodded. Eight days. She reminded herself that she could absolutely do this. Now was not the time to dwell on the fact that the only living things that had ever been in her care were some exotic fish that had added color to her condo. Until she’d accidentally knocked the heater into the aquarium and electrocuted them all in mere seconds.

      “I don’t want them to come here, Kate. I know they’re on the approved list, but I just can’t imagine them in these surroundings.” He ran his hands over his face. “Haven’t they been through enough in their young lives without seeing their old man…?”

      Startled by the raw vulnerability in his tone, she rushed to reassure him. “That’s completely understandable. It’s not as if they haven’t gone months without seeing you before. That’s practically the norm.”

      His jaw tightened. “What do you mean by that?”

      Exactly what she’d said. “I’m just agreeing with you, Paul. They don’t see us much during school semesters. Maybe writing you letters from home would be less traumatic than visiting you here. Maybe it is best for the three of you to get reacquainted…afterward.”

      “Right. Sorry.” He sighed. “Guess I’m a little defensive when it comes to my parenting choices.”

      She knew Lily had read him the riot act when he’d first sent the kids away, four months after Heather’s death. His contention was that he traveled a lot and the school would give them a first-rate education in a place not rife with reminders of their mom. He’d hoped they could heal there, make new friends. Lily had been furious, first losing her sister, then “losing” her niece and nephew. He’d even let it slip that his sister-in-law had once obliquely threatened in the heat of the moment to pursue custody if he couldn’t take care of his own kids, though she’d quickly and apologetically taken back the rash comment. Kate certainly couldn’t envision Lily and her husband housing two more children when they had four of their own.

      After that,