hesitated, but she would have to know sooner or later. “Two.”
Even though she didn’t say a word, he could almost hear her wince. Finally, quietly, she said, “You know you’re trying too hard, don’t you? You don’t need to put all this pressure on yourself. If you’d just let me reset the pub date, everything would be fine.”
“I can do this.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she agreed, “but the point is you don’t need to. Ed understands that our authors don’t live in a vacuum. Life happens. We have to be adjustable.”
Ed Quinn was the sole owner and publisher of St. John’s Press. Max had met him after his first book made the Times list, and he had to admit that Ed went out of his way to work with his authors. Max just hated to ask for extra time for writer’s block, of all things. He’d never had this kind of problem before, and he didn’t like it, dammit!
“Don’t make any changes in the pub date just yet,” he said gruffly. “I may still be able to make it.”
“You just need to lighten up,” she assured him.
“How? I’ve tried everything short of standing on my head.”
“Let’s go to dinner tomorrow night and talk about it.”
“Tomorrow? Are you in town?”
“I will be tomorrow,” she said with a chuckle. “Right now I’m in Denver for a conference. I thought I’d rent a car and drive up to see you tomorrow afternoon. If you’re free, of course.”
“Of course I’m free. Why don’t you meet me here at my office? When you come into town, turn right on University Avenue and it’ll take you straight to Old Main. There’s visitor parking out front. I’m in 204.”
“I should be there by five,” she replied. “Send out the cavalry if I’m not. My sense of direction stinks.”
“Don’t worry.” He laughed. “It’s almost impossible to get lost between here and Denver. There’s only one road and it goes straight to Eagle Creek.”
“Trust me—you haven’t seen me with a map.”
Laughing, she hung up, and for a moment Max found himself grinning at his computer screen. Katherine was a saint—and a hell of a good editor. If anyone could walk him through writer’s block—and he still wasn’t convinced that was possible—it was Katherine Stevens. Lighten up, she’d said. It sounded easy, but as he studied the single line he’d written in Chapter Two, his stomach knotted with tension. So much for lightening up, he thought grimly.
When Natalie’s alarm went off the next morning, she blindly slapped at the snooze button and found it without lifting her head from the pillow. It couldn’t be six-thirty already, she thought groggily. She’d just gone to bed at…what? Three?
She groaned at the thought. No wonder she was exhausted! She’d been working on her homework for all her classes, trying to get ahead of the game before she found herself behind. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but she’d never dreamed it would take so long just to read three different homework assignments and go over her class notes. And that was after only the first day of classes! How was she going to keep up the pace all semester when she had projects to do, papers to write, the boys to take care of, and she worked four days a week? She could forget snoozing five extra minutes in the morning, that was for sure. She didn’t have time!
Jumping out of bed, she hurriedly dressed, then woke the boys. Then the fun began.
“I don’t want to wear that. It itches!”
“That’s my shirt! Mom! Tommy has my shirt!”
Playing peacemaker, aware of every tick of the clock, she separated them, found shirts that didn’t itch and belonged to the right boy, then rushed to the kitchen to pop some waffles in the toaster. When the boys straggled in a few minutes later, she had everything ready. “As soon as you’re finished, put your plates in the sink and go brush your teeth while I put on my makeup,” she told them. “No playing around, guys. We can’t be late again this morning.”
Everything should have gone smoothly—she’d even poured the syrup, so all the boys had to do was sit down and eat. But she’d just smoothed foundation onto her cheeks when she heard a crash in the kitchen and one of the boys yelled, “Mom! Bongo ate my waffles and knocked over the trash can!”
“What?” Dropping her makeup, she rushed into the kitchen. “No, Bongo! Down!”
Too late. Bongo jumped up, planted his large, damp paws on her chest, and greeted her with a wet, sticky kiss. “Woof!”
“Oh, you bad dog! Down! Who let you in?” She shot a stern look at her five-year-olds, but she might as well have saved herself the trouble. They giggled in unison, and she couldn’t hold her frown. “Scamps! What am I going to do with you?”
“Take us to McDonald’s,” Harry suggested, mischief dancing in his eyes.
“Pleeese, Mom,” Tommy entreated, turning his mouth down into a sad little smile. “We didn’t get breakfast. We’re hungry.”
“Why do I have the feeling I’ve just been scammed?” When they just grinned, she laughed and ruffled their hair. “Okay, we’ll go through the drive-through—this time. Let me change.”
She was five minutes behind schedule by the time she changed and got the boys and their backpacks loaded in the car. When she pulled into the McDonald’s parking lot and zipped around to the drive-through, she knew it was going to be another one of those days when nothing went right. There were five cars ahead of her.
If she’d just had herself to worry about, she would have skipped breakfast, but the boys couldn’t go all morning at school without something to eat. Resigned, she got in line.
Fifteen minutes later she pulled up in front of the boys’ elementary school and couldn’t help but notice what a difference a day made. Unlike yesterday, when they’d begged her to stay with them, this time, they hardly took time to kiss her goodbye before they grabbed their backpacks and burst from the car with huge grins on their identical faces. Their two new twin friends ran to meet them, and Natalie realized with amusement that she was all but forgotten.
With two hours to spare before she had to report for work, all she wanted to do was go to the university library and begin researching possible topics for her term paper for her archeology class. Unfortunately she still had a flat that had to be repaired, all because Derek was nowhere to be found. She hoped he was enjoying his life in the Caribbean with no responsibility, she thought grimly. She and his sons were doing just fine without him.
The old resentment stirred at the thought of his abandonment of them, but as she finally stepped into the university library, she was relieved to discover she wasn’t nearly as angry as she’d once been. And there was only one reason for that—after all these years, she was finally in college.
Still unable to believe it, she hurried into the library with a light step and a smile on her face. When Max Sullivan had told the class about the term paper that was due at the end of the semester, her younger classmates had grumbled about the amount of work they would have to do, but she’d been waiting for eighteen years for the chance to do just such an assignment, and she couldn’t have
