entrepreneurial scheme, their income-earning potential was limited. In Glen’s case, it was largely offering his services as a general garden helper. Even when he turned sixteen, it would mostly be minimum wage.
“We can’t know how much you’d earn at modeling,” she warned, wanting him to be realistic. “It’s probable that only a few people make the huge bucks.”
“Maybe, but I’ve been thinking about what Tiff said earlier. If we make some money, it shouldn’t all go into a trust fund. We should help around here.”
His eyes were serious and Cassie hated knowing he’d needed to grow up faster than other kids.
“That isn’t your job. You’re thirteen and—”
“Almost fourteen.”
“In a few months. But it doesn’t make any difference. You’re a kid and it isn’t your responsibility to provide for yourself.”
“That isn’t fair to you.”
“Right, it isn’t fair that I get the pleasure of having my niece and nephew living with me the past year because my sister has a problem. And it isn’t fair that you don’t get to have the mom and dad you deserve. But if you’re worried about houses and cars, don’t. The bedrooms aren’t large and you and Tiff have to share a bathroom, but that’s no different than any family that has to make do with the space available. Do you dislike this house? I know it’s a quiet neighborhood, but there are families with kids your age on the street.”
Glen shook his head. “Your place is loads better than our tiny apartment in San Diego, and we really like Seattle. It was so amazing when you told the judge that you wanted us to live with you. I’d figured they’d split us up, and like, you know, all the bad stuff you see on TV about foster homes.”
“I’m sure most foster homes are fine, but I thought this would be best and I love having the two of you with me. Okay, in a few days I’ll meet with Adam Wilding and get the representation agreements. Uncle Orville will take a look at them and who knows? Next week, you might be posing in front of a camera.”
“Uh, yeah.”
Cassie studied his expression; he still seemed uncertain. “Are you sure this is what you want?” She didn’t want to push him one way or another.
“I’m sure.” Glen gave a crooked grin. “I’ve been looking at how much medical school costs and it could choke a pig, the way Uncle Orville says.”
Orville Calloway, her godfather, had become the twins’ honorary uncle. “Okay. But if you or Tiff change your minds in the future, we’ll deal with it.”
“Thanks.” Glen reached over and gave her an awkward, boyish hug.
* * *
ELIZABETH WILDING FINISHED the dishes and looked at her husband reading a newspaper at the kitchen table. Ever since he’d retired, she could hardly get him out of the house. Part of the time he fussed around “fixing” things that weren’t broken, the rest of the time he was just sitting, usually in the room where she was trying to get something done.
She wanted him to enjoy his retirement but not to slow down completely.
“Dear, why don’t you call Mr. Villareal and see if he needs help with that clogged drain he mentioned?” Elizabeth suggested.
Mr. Villareal was their neighbor on the corner and he was quite elderly, though he still managed to put out dozens of luminarias every Christmas in memory of his wife and only child who’d died in a car accident.
“Took care of it yesterday,” Dermott said without looking up from the newspaper. “Don’t you remember?”
She recalled him being gone for fifteen minutes or so, which hardly seemed long enough to unplug a sink. But Dermott was awfully talented with a pipe wrench.
“I’m sure he would have appreciated having you stay and talk.”
“You talk to Hector almost every day.”
Oh my, her husband could be dense.
“The women in the neighborhood check on him and bring food, but he enjoys having male company, too.”
“I’ll go over later. I don’t get it, Lizzie. We finally have time to spend together and you keep trying to send me away.”
Together?
Elizabeth glared at his bent head—they weren’t spending time together, they just happened to be in the same room most of the day. Well, enough was enough. She’d been pushing him to visit Seattle, hoping they could find a way to mend fences with their son. Dermott had agreed to take a trip “sometime,” so now she’d have to find the right way to make that happen. It shouldn’t take too much...he wanted to go; he just needed the right prodding.
“Why do they have to keep calling Adam a former model and printing a picture of him in a swimsuit?” Dermott said out of the blue, slapping his hand on the table. “Can’t they just say he’s a businessman?”
Elizabeth tensed. He must be reading one of the Seattle newspapers that Adam had sent. She knew her husband didn’t mean to make her feel bad about the direction their son’s life had taken, but she did; if it hadn’t been for her getting sick, Adam would be a lawyer now.
Or would he?
Thinking back, she couldn’t honestly say Adam had been enthusiastic about studying law—not opposed, just unexcited by a legal career. And he’d used his fame as a model in good ways, including helping environmental and wildlife causes...though the videos he’d done interacting with wolves and bears had made her gulp in worry for his safety. Still, who wouldn’t take the chance of being that close to such amazing animals?
“No matter how we feel, Adam is famous,” she said finally. “I’m sure the agency gets more business when the public is reminded of who owns it.”
“Yeah, so we can see more models in bathing suits and other nonsense,” Dermott muttered.
Maybe he would have accepted Adam’s modeling better if his coworkers at the construction company hadn’t kidded him so often about his son, “the swimsuit guy.”
Sighing, Elizabeth took an aspirin for the pain starting to throb in her temples. It wasn’t just Adam she felt guilty about, it was Sophie, too. She’d been so young when her mother needed major surgery. It was as if Sophie had lost a big chunk of her childhood, taking on responsibilities and worries that a child shouldn’t have to face. No wonder she’d turned wild for a period and ended up pregnant at seventeen.
Elizabeth couldn’t regret her grandchildren, but her daughter’s teen marriage had quickly fallen apart and raising two kids alone was hard. In her own way, Sophie was just as stubborn and proud as her dad and wouldn’t accept much help from the family.
“Are you all right, Lizzie?” Dermott asked. “You took something. Is your blood pressure up?”
“It’s a headache, that’s all.”
Her husband’s concerned expression eased slightly, but Elizabeth’s own tension rose even higher.
