through primary school. He had so much potential. She had such high hopes for him. The important thing for her right now was not to overreact.
Letting her breath go, she said calmly, “Whatever you end up doing, it’s important that you finish high school. Keep your grades up, take a variety of courses and keep your options open.”
“I guess,” he said grudgingly, not looking at her.
Now that he was acquiescing, she couldn’t resist one more salvo. “Oliver, you know how strongly I feel about education. It’s a crime to have the gift of intelligence and talent and not use it to the best of your ability.”
“A crime is something that’s against the law,” said Oliver, ever the nitpicker.
Hands on her hips, Sienna shot back, “In my world, not living up to your potential is against the law.”
Oliver groaned theatrically and pushed his hands through his blond curls.
“I want you to get right in there after dinner and get busy on your homework,” Sienna added. “No MSN, no texting your friends—”
“It’s Saturday night,” Oliver complained. “I’m going to Jason’s. I’ll do the assignments this weekend.”
“Oliver—”
“I promise!”
The microwave was beeping. Sienna went back to the kitchen and removed the thawed chicken. She took out her brand-new wok and got out the chopping board, biting her tongue not to keep haranguing him. “All right. You can go to Jason’s, but you will spend the rest of the weekend catching up on your schoolwork.” Seconds ticked by. She glanced at him. “Well?”
Finally Oliver said, “Okay.” He shuffled his large feet, ruffling the area rug that overlaid the polished hardwood floor. A few more seconds passed. “Do you want to see my solar-powered robot?”
Sienna took another deep breath and released it. “Sure.”
Oliver went to his bedroom and came back with a flashlight and a weird-looking contraption made out of a computer disk with half a Ping-Pong ball and two rubber-tipped motors attached to the bottom surface. Wires ran from the motor “legs” through the central hole to an array of light sensors, he explained. The sensors were wired to a small switch and a backup battery pack. Oliver placed the robot on the floor and knelt beside it. He flicked on the switch and shone the flashlight onto the sensors.
Nothing happened.
Oliver’s fair skin flushed, the scattered pimples on his chin turning deeper red. He thrust the light closer. “Come on.”
“Give it a minute,” Sienna said.
Slowly the legs began to move up and down, the rubber tips squeaking backward over the floor. It was the oddest thing Sienna had ever seen. “That’s amazing! Did you do that in science?”
“Yeah, we had a special presentation this morning,” he said eagerly. “A guy came in and showed us how to make electronic stuff. It was way cool.” The robot crashed into the side of the couch and marched frenetically in place until Oliver pulled it away and sent it in another direction. “I need better legs for it, though. And something to make it go in reverse. Jack said the next time he’d bring more controls.”
Jack. Could it be the same man? She dismissed the thought. No, it was too much of a coincidence.
She reached out and squeezed Oliver’s shoulder. “You’re a smart kid. You’ve got a scientific mind. You could do anything.”
Oliver glanced up at her, his mouth curving uncertainly. She returned his smile with love and pride. Briefly his eyes met hers in naked affection that embarrassed him so much he colored and glanced away.
“Oh, Olly.” Flooded with warmth, Sienna reached over and hugged him. He hugged her back briefly, then began to squirm. With a sigh she scrubbed her hand through his hair and reluctantly let him go.
They watched the robot squeak and scrape across the tiles. Meesha, the black cat, dropped from the chair arm where she’d been curled up sleeping and watched the jerking mechanical computer disk with alert interest.
Sienna asked, “Have you talked to your father lately?”
Oliver tensed, then shook his head, pretending all his concentration was on the erratic progress of the robot.
But Sienna could tell she had his attention. “Have you told him yet whether you’ll go with him on the ski trip to New Zealand?”
“Why do you want me to go? I’d have to miss a week of school. And the qualifying exam to see if I can go into the advanced math class next year.”
“I’ll speak to your teacher. We’ll work something out.”
The robot hit the table leg and stopped. Oliver picked it up and watched the legs give one last flicker. “I don’t want to go if she’s going.”
Sienna’s jaw tightened, but she strove for an even tone. “Erica’s seven months pregnant and not having an easy time. From what Anthony said, I doubt she’s going.”
Still Oliver hesitated. Sienna didn’t want to lecture him again tonight, but neither did she want him to miss this opportunity. “If you want to maintain a good relationship with your dad you need to spend time with him. Every second weekend isn’t enough. We agreed that you would have a holiday with him every year.”
Oliver glanced up, his eyes searching her face. “Doesn’t it bother you? Her, I mean.”
Yes, it did. She’d gotten past her initial raw anger and grief, but the hurt lingered. However, she wanted to do what was best for Oliver. “This isn’t about me. You don’t have to choose sides. You can love us both. You can even—” she swallowed hard “—love Erica.”
“That’s never going to happen.” Oliver was silent for a moment, thoughtful. “You really don’t mind?”
“No, I don’t. I want you to go.”
He glanced at her as if to make absolutely certain, then his expression gradually brightened as the reality of the trip started to sink in. “Okay. I’ll call him now.” He hesitated, then hugged her quickly. “Thanks.”
As she watched her son scramble to his feet and head for the phone, heat pricked Sienna’s eyes. She’d known he was ambivalent about going, but not that his reluctance was out of concern for her feelings. She hated to think of him not going after what he wanted, only to have regrets. That applied to his schoolwork, too, even if he couldn’t see it right now.
She got to her feet, glancing once again at her watch. Oh, God. It was six-thirty. Her guests would be here soon and she’d better get busy.
“I COULD HAVE SWORN she was enjoying our conversation, then out of the blue her smile turned sour,” Jack said to Bogie as he unloaded groceries onto the kitchen counter. “Do you think it was something I said?”
Bogie’s heavy fringed tail wagged in sympathy, but the golden retriever was too busy trawling the tiled floor for spilled crumbs to actually reply.
“It’s
