The Right Time (15 page)

“She won’t budge, and I feel as if this nightmare won’t end,” Jay, a tall, dark Italian, said. Frustration echoed in his lightly accented voice—the way it always did whenever he discussed the situation with his ex-wife.

Brenda, seated across from Sophie, covered his hand with hers. “She won’t give up,” she explained to Sophie. “Her latest accusation is that we got married to make her look bad, to influence the judge to rule in our favor.”

Hard to believe they all used to be friends—Jay, Brenda, Sophie, and Jenna—part of a group of six that had known each other since their twenties. When Jay and Brenda decided to pursue a relationship, their decision turned an already volatile situation volcanic.

Jay and Jenna’s court battle was a sordid one that, if Sophie hadn’t witnessed it herself, she might not have believed to be true. Jay and Jenna had been married for a short time years ago, and had two sons, fraternal twins Arturo and Marco. Later, they learned that Arturo was Jay’s son and Marco was the son of a man named Dale Armstrong, and they found out purely by chance. With Jenna carrying the color-blind gene and Dale also being color-blind, the chances of having a son that was color-blind increased dramatically from twenty-five percent to fifty percent, resulting in Marco having the same issue as his biological father.

“I still can’t believe how she purposely misled you all those years. She made this mess,” Sophie said. She’d lost all respect for her former friend, and crossed her fingers in the hope that Jay won the right to have his biological son, and the son he’d helped raise all those years, with him in Atlanta.

“Our attorney doesn’t think there will be an end anytime soon. We’re definitely going to have to go to court,” Jay said. “We thought this would be a short and quick process, but the past six months have been nothing but constant fighting, with the boys caught in the middle.”

Dale wanted his son in Florida and wanted to spend time getting to know him. Jay, on the other hand, had already planned to take full custody of the boys, starting this fall. The fact that Marco was not his biological son did not stop him from wanting to take both boys. He had been his father for eleven years—raised him, loved him, taken care of him—and he couldn’t imagine splitting the boys up.

Jenna didn’t want the boys split up either, and had rescinded her offer to have them live with Jay in Atlanta. If Marco could not go, neither could Arturo, as far as she was concerned. And that was why they were headed to court.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Sophie asked.

Her friends looked at each other.

“We might need you to testify about what you’ve observed, regarding my relationship with the boys,” Jay said.

“Gladly,” Sophie said firmly. “Just tell me when.”

Jay let out a relieved breath. “I knew I could count on you. I just wish it didn’t have to come to this. We could avoid a trial altogether if Jenna would stop fighting me on custody.”

“But she won’t. Because she’s angry at me and you for getting together,” Brenda said.

Which was all true. Jenna disliked the couple immensely, and clearly was not above using her sons to hurt them.

They finished dinner, and Jay went into the home office to work while Sophie and Brenda sat in the living room chatting. Sophie pulled her feet under her bottom and rested an arm on the sofa. Beside her, Brenda elevated her feet on an ottoman.

“I hope this mess with the boys gets wrapped up soon,” Brenda said with a sigh.

“It will. You just have to be confident. How did the trip to Naples go?” A few weeks ago, Jay and Brenda made a trip to Jay’s home country to meet his mother, since she had been unable to make it to the States for the wedding.

“Better than expected,” her friend admitted with a wide grin. “You know how Jay’s father is.” The older Santorini male was a difficult man who constantly complained about how Jay ran the family business, and had strongly suggested Jay’s second wife should be an Italian woman. “But his mother is so sweet. She is an absolute doll and gave me a few recipes that I could use to make dishes for him and our future
bambinos
.” She rested a hand on her flat stomach.

One day
, Sophie thought, looking at her friend with a bit of envy. Despite the drama surrounding their family now, she knew Brenda was happy. She’d married the man she loved and was expecting her first child.

“Oh gosh, I’ve been talking about myself all night. What about you? What’s the latest?”

Brenda didn’t approve of her relationship with Keith, having firsthand knowledge of the breakups and makeups over the years. Both she and Jay thought when she and Keith broke up the last time, that would be the end of their relationship for good. Now Sophie was too embarrassed to mention Keith had cheated on her. It would only confirm what they thought of him, and confirm that she should have left him in the past.

“Nothing to tell. Keith and I are good.”

“Oh?” Brenda raised a brow, skepticism easy to discern in her voice.

“He’s changed a lot recently.”

Brenda pursed her lips. “You know you’re my best friend.”

“Yesss.”

Brenda put up her hands. “I’m not going to lecture you. I just…hope that you guys can get it together this time. This back and forth thing you’re always doing doesn’t make for an emotionally healthy relationship. You should be with someone who makes you feel good. All the time.”

Someone like Ransom.

“He makes me feel good. I’m his priority now.”

“I hope so, Sophie.” Brenda took her hand and squeezed. “Because that’s what you deserve. Don’t waste your time with a man who doesn’t appreciate you.”

“I won’t. I’ve learned my lesson from the past.
I won’t ever stay with a man who doesn’t appreciate me again.”

Ransom pulled his car into the driveway of his brother’s two-story neocolonial house on a quiet street in an Atlanta suburb. He was halfway up the walkway when the front door was yanked open from the inside. His brother’s wife, Shawna, stood on the threshold, her smiling brown face fuller than when he saw her at Christmas, in Oklahoma at his parents’ house.

“Hey, stranger,” she said. “Glad you decided to take a break and grace us with your presence.”

Ransom gave Shawna a hug, and her pregnant belly pressed into him, an indication of the upcoming addition to their four-member family.

“Hey yourself, fatty.”

She slapped his chest, and he feigned hurt, groaning and stumbling backward.

Shawna laughed at his theatrics. “Come on in. Ryan and the kids are out back.”

The mouth-watering scent of dinner perfumed the house as he followed her swinging ponytail into the kitchen.

“What are you making?”

“I have a pot roast in the slow cooker getting extra tender and delicious. Mashed potatoes will be finished soon, and there’s green beans and roasted corn brushed with the honey your aunt sent from her bee farm.”

Ransom rubbed his hands together. “Sounds good. Can’t wait.”

“Can I get you something to drink?” Shawna asked, as she puttered around the kitchen.

“I’ll get it. What do you have?”

Standing at the sink, she looked over her shoulder at him. “Um…there’s beer in the fridge, water, and a few minutes ago I made a fresh pitcher of iced tea, so it’s not cold yet.”

“I’ll take a beer.” He walked over to the refrigerator.

“Would you grab one for Ryan, too?”

“Sure thing.”

He pulled out two bottles of Full Moon pale ale, opened them, and exited through the French doors into the privacy-fenced back yard. Ryan sat on a plastic lawn chair watching Madison chase Ryker around the swing set with her lips puckered and making kissing noises. She was a very affectionate little girl, and always trying to kiss someone.

Ransom grinned as he watched them play. Madison had a head full of curly hair pulled to the top of her head. At almost three years old, she did well to keep up with her brother, who was ten months older.

“You made it. Pull up a chair.” Ryan pointed to the chairs stacked against the back wall of the house.

Ransom handed his brother one of the beers, and sat down beside him.

“Of course. You and Shawna make it sound as if I wouldn’t come.”

Ryan shrugged. “We know how it’s been in the past. I figured something might come up at work and you’d have to cancel.”

Ransom winced. True, he’d cancelled trips to Atlanta in the past, and since his temporary move to Atlanta over a month ago, this was the first time he’d ventured outside Midtown to the suburbs to see his family. He really needed to do better.

“I took this afternoon off.”

“Good for you.” Ryan knocked his bottle against Ransom’s.

They both had dark hair and blue eyes, but that was where the similarities ended. Ryan was a few years younger and, to Ransom’s way of thinking, very impulsive. He’d done the unthinkable and dropped out of college to pursue a career in furniture-making. Not exactly a growth industry, but he’d turned it into a profitable business after following his heart instead of listening to the naysayers.

The story of how he met his wife—while involved with another woman—was the height of impulsiveness. At the time, Ransom had expressed doubts about their relationship lasting, and true enough it hadn’t, at first.

Fast-forward years later, and they’d been married almost six years and still behaved like newlyweds. They were the kind of couple that made other people roll their eyes. In fact, at his parents’ house in Oklahoma, he caught them slow-dancing in the living room late one night. He watched as his brother twirled his wife in a circle and then pulled her close, their bodies swaying as one in time to the R&B tunes coming through the speakers.

Ryan had seen him and said, “This is how I won her over. With my dance moves. Still got it.”

They were one of the few married couples he could point to and say were genuinely happy. With each other and with their life.

“Hey, not so rough,” Ryan scolded when Ryker shoved his sister to the ground. “Both of you come over here and say hi to Uncle Ransom.”

Ryker helped his sister up and the two of them raced over.

“Uncle Wansom!” Madison said excitedly. He leaned down and she clutched his face, planting a wet kiss to his cheek.

“My baby brother is inside Mommy’s tummy,” Ryker announced.

“Is that right?” Ransom said.

“Uh-huh. She let us touch him. He was moving.” He sounded in awe.

Beside him, Madison’s eyes were wide in her face, and she bobbed her head up and down. “Inside Mommy.”

“Uncle Ransom, you want to hand-wrestle?” Ryker asked hopefully.

“Aw man, you beat me so bad the last time.”

The little boy giggled. “You need to practice.”

“Yeah, I know. All right, let’s do this.”

He set his elbow on his knee and he and Ryker locked hands.

“Go!” Ryan said.

At first Ransom didn’t budge his hand, and his nephew’s face contorted as he fought to push it down. Ransom groaned, pretending to struggle under the little boy’s strength.

His sister jumped up and down beside him and chanted her encouragement. “Go, Wyker! Go! Go!”

Ransom allowed Ryker to slowly push his hand all the way down. He groaned in defeat, and Madison and Ryker jumped around excitedly.

“I won again!” Ryker said.

Ransom waved his hand back and forth as if it hurt. “Man, you’re getting stronger.”

“Me, me.” Madison came forward with big, pleading eyes. “I want…I want.”

“You want to beat me, too?” Ransom asked.

She nodded vigorously. Beside him, Ryan chuckled at her enthusiasm.

Ransom went through the same process, but allowing Madison to use both of her hands. Like before, he watched her fix her face into a concentrated scowl and then he let her slowly drag his arm down. He let out a puff of defeated air, and Madison squealed in her victory, jumping up and down again.

“You cheated. You have to use one hand,” Ryker said.

“But…but I’m small.” Madison stuck out her lower lip and looked at her father for reassurance.

“You did fine,” Ryan said. “Good job. Both of you.” He tweaked the nose of his little princess. Crisis over, she skipped away and Ryker followed. Soon, they were chasing each other around the yard again.

“When did you say Shawna was due?”

“In a couple of months. August.”

“You have a name picked out?” Ransom plucked a blade of grass.

“We’ve tossed around a few that begin with the letter R, but nothing definite yet. Hell, we may make up a name.”

Ransom rotated the bottle in his hand. “How’s business?” he asked.

“Business at Shawna’s boutique is steady. She hired someone else the other day—to start training them for when the baby comes and she has to take leave. Did I tell you I’m planning to move the shop? I found a better location in Cabbagetown, which will cut my commute time. What’s going at the law firm?”

“Same old, same old.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Ryan turn toward him. “That’s an odd answer. Something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine. I’m pretty sure I’ll make partner soon.”

“Congratulations. That’s what you want, right?”

Ransom took a moment to answer, rubbing the condensation from the bottle with a thumb. “Sometimes I wonder if I should be doing something else.”

“Like what?”

“I’ve thought about opening a restaurant, actually.” Tension radiated from his stomach at the admission. He couldn’t believe he’d spoken his dream aloud.

“
Opening a restaurant?
” The incredulity in Ryan’s voice almost made him smile. “I knew you liked to cook, but I had no idea you had an interest in taking it that far. Restaurants have a high failure rate, don’t they? Something like ninety percent in the first year?”

“That’s an exaggeration. The numbers aren’t that high.” Based on research, he’d seen significantly lower numbers, closer to sixty percent, and some sources quoted figures much lower.

“Since when did you get an interest in the restaurant business?”

“Ever since I worked at that restaurant with Mr. Lang’s brother back in high school.”

“Huh. I thought you hated that job.”