Part-Time Wife by Susan Mallery Page A

luggage, how do you know—" She bit on her lower lip.
    "How do we know something didn't happen to her?"
    She nodded.
    " Jordan saw her leave. She told him she'd had it and wasn't coming back. He was only seventeen and didn't know what to do. He came to me. I was already out of college and living on my own, I told him to keep what he heard to himself. It was hard on all of us. Probably hardest on Kyle, because he's the youngest."
    Her green eyes were wide and dark with emotion. It wasn't pity. Maybe concern. "I'm sorry."
    "Thanks. My brothers and I were always close, but after that, we pulled together more. My dad remarried a couple of times, then moved to
Florida
. I haven't seen him since before Ben was born." And he didn't want to. He would never forgive his father for what he'd done to the family.
    "You'll meet my brothers while you're here," he said. "We get together a lot."
    "It sounds nice, but a little overwhelming. I'm an only child. As it is, I'm going to have my hands full adjusting to living with a houseful of men." She grinned. "I'm thrilled to have my own bathroom so I won't have to fight to keep the toilet seat down."
    "I trained them better than that. It shouldn't be a problem anywhere."
    She looked at the table, then at him. Her full mouth straightened. "You know, Craig, despite how you're beating yourself up right now, you've done a good job with the boys."
    "I don't think I want to know how you read my mind."
    "It wasn't hard. I think most single parents worry that they're not doing enough. Add to that the pressures that go with your job and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. But from what I saw today, they're good kids."
    "I can't take credit for that," he said. "Everything is so messed up." Ben. What was he going to do about his oldest?
    "Divorce has a way of doing that to families."
    He took a swallow of beer. "So what's your story?"
    "It's not very interesting." She leaned back in her chair and raised her hands, palms up. "I met a man I loved and who I thought loved me. It was a whirlwind courtship. I married him, and his two daughters came to live with us." She smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes.
    "Patti and Heather were so sweet. I adored them. I wanted to be their mother. I did everything I could for them. I was working, so I didn't have a lot of time." She paused, as if thinking. "I was working extra hours. Aaron had high alimony payments so I supported the household. I really didn't mind. Looking back, I suppose I should have."
    "How long has it been?"
    "Eighteen months. I know what you're thinking. That I should be over it by now. In a way I am. It's just that I tried too hard not to think about it, and then one day I couldn't think about anything else."
    "I'm surprised Aaron allowed you to support his two kids." He shook his head. "I guess I shouldn't be. My ex-wife used to tell me that I was old-fashioned. According to her, my philosophies about men and women went out with hoopskirts."
    "We never really talked about it," she said. "I sort of offered and he accepted. It was an unspoken rule in our family. He didn't have to say what he wanted or needed. I just knew."
    Craig understood about that kind of selfishness. He'd grown up watching his father expect the same from his mother. "But he never bothered figuring out what you wanted."
    She shook her head. "The really sad part is, until a few months ago, I had convinced myself I didn't want anything at all. That just being part of the family was enough."
    He and Krystal had been the same way, except in his case, he'd been the one anticipating her needs. She'd taken easily, without once feeling the need to give back. As a point of honor, he'd done the opposite of his father. He'd sworn fidelity. Foolishly, he'd expected the same. But Krystal had never agreed with him about that. In fact, they'd agreed on very little.
    Jill drew in a slow breath. "Eventually I figured out Aaron married me to get custody of the children. It