Hailey shrugged, and Jack couldn’t help but smile at her in her baggy, orange, pajama pants and her matching University of Tennessee sweatshirt, looking happy as could be.
“Is supper almost ready?” Grant asked, lifting the lid off a pot on the stove.
“Yes, Son,” Nora grumbled, swatting him away.
Emily hurried into the kitchen, books in hand. “Mom, what are we having for supper?” she asked. “I’m starving, and Jessica promised Mary Ann and Sarah Beth they could come over after supper and study for the test we have tomorrow.”
“Spaghetti,” Nora answered as she reached into a cabinet for plates.
“Spaghetti?” Emily grumbled, walking off. “What am I supposed to eat?”
Jack noticed Nora’s tired expression but didn’t say anything.
“Dad! Please come here!” Jessica called insistently.
“Hailey, will you please go see what your sister keeps hollering about?” Jack urged.
Hailey playfully kicked the side of her foot against Grant’s leg. “Giddy up,” she giggled, and, when Grant took off running, she screamed shrilly.
“Nora, can I do something to help you?” Jack asked sincerely. Then he sniffed the air as the smell of burning toast filled the room.
“Oh no,” Nora sighed as she hung her head. “I knew that was gonna happen!”
Jack grabbed a potholder. “I’ve got it,” he insisted. He took the toast out of the oven and fanned the smoke.
“Is the house on fire, or is Mom making toast?” Grant called from the hallway.
“Everything is fine,” Jack called as he dumped the pan of smoldering toast into the trashcan.
Nora sank down into a kitchen chair. “I used to think of myself as a good mother…”
“Nora, you’re a terrific mother,” Jack countered, sitting down next to her and patting her hand reassuringly.
Nora shook her head, unconvinced. “David doesn’t like nuts in his brownies, but the other kids do, so, when I make brownies, I always make two batches,” she began, and Jack was unsure exactly where she was headed with this revelation. “All kids have their little particulars, their likes and dislikes that mamas are programmed to remember. Ike liked ketchup on everything, to the extent that I was convinced I was a horrendous chef, and he was just trying his best to make do. Granny would probably argue that was the case! Joanna wouldn’t eat a fresh tomato if her life depended on it; she practically gags at the sight of them. Rachel hates pepperonis, pickles and parmesan cheese. Grant thinks that store-bought, vanilla Zingers are a food group of their own,” Nora rolled her eyes. “Buy him the chocolate ones, and he will look at you like his puppy just died. Try to convince him the cake that you made from scratch and spent hours slaving over in the kitchen is tastier than one of those prized, little snack cakes, and, he will leave you believing that Zingers reign supreme as king of the cake world.” She laughed at herself. “And Emily,” she nodded. “Emily hates spaghetti…always has…always…even as a baby when I would cut it up and put it on the tray of her highchair! But that never crossed my mind today!”
“Nora, forgetting that doesn’t make you a bad mother,” Jack shook his head.
“It does,” Nora nodded as she stood. She walked over and began stirring the spaghetti sauce. “And ripping my kids out of school and moving them down here to start over again makes me a bad mother too…doesn’t it?”
“I think you were put in a tough situation,” Jack replied.
“I worry about Grant,” Nora frowned.
“He seems fine to me,” Jack replied. “I’m more worried about Grant’s mom.”
“Grant has always been such a challenging child to deal with,” Nora sighed.
“The kid has never had anything in his life that resembles stability, so what do you expect?” Jack blurted, since it was obvious Nora wasn’t ready to talk about herself.
“And I suppose that is my fault?” Nora said defensively.
Jack reached for Nora’s hand. “I know you didn’t want to move around like you did,” he said. “I know you, Nora Jean…you’re a small town, country girl who would have been content to spend her life right here in Hope Hull.”
“I did the best I could with Grant,” Nora shook her head.
“This isn’t just about Grant,” Jack declared. “This is about Grant needing and wanting a relationship with his father that he doesn’t have…”
“Jack, please don’t,” Nora shook her head.
“Randy should have already been to see one of Grant’s basketball games,” Jack insisted.
Nora rushed to Randy’s defense. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she argued. “Randy is involved in a lot of things, but he loves Grant. Jack, I could have stayed at our house in North Carolina and raised all my children right there; they never would have had to move. Randy would have traveled and done what he needed to do and checked in when he could, but that’s not what he wanted…and it’s not what I wanted either. Randy always wanted me and the kids to be with him when we could. We’re a family, and we did the best we could by our children. You know…it’s men like Randy Cohen that make it possible for the rest of you to live safe and settled lives back home.”
Jack was quiet.
“I’m sorry,” Nora gulped.
“It’s okay,” Jack shook his head. “Randy has served this country well. I respect his dedication to his job; I just wish he had shown you the respect you deserve.”
“He called today,” Nora said after a moment. “Well,” she corrected, “I called him first to talk about Rachel…but he called back later…and we talked some more.”
Jack only nodded. This, he realized, was the reason Nora had been on edge all evening.
“He doesn’t want to go through with the divorce; he says he won’t sign the papers,” Nora added.
“And what about you?” Jack asked slowly. “Do you want the divorce?”
“He is the father of my children, Jack,” Nora sighed.
