Every Other Weekend by TA Moore

Author:TA Moore [Moore, TA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 978-1-64080-750-1
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2018-10-23T05:00:00+00:00

IT WOULDN’T be fair to say that Kathleen enjoyed crises, but she was good at them. Maybe it was just practice. As a new-minted mother when Cole and Worth were young, she might have gagged at open wounds and panicked over broken bones. But by the time Kelly came along, she’d slapped a dressing on what was left of his eye and drove him to hospital because it would take too long for the ambulance to get there.

A simple car accident wasn’t enough to rattle a woman with that sort of pedigree.

When Claire and Kelly found her, she was red-eyed but composed. She’d abandoned the waiting room in the ER for a seat in the cafeteria, and a cup of nursed coffee was going cold at her elbow as she ran her family’s life through her phone.

“…tell him to drive safely,” she said as they reached her. A strained smile acknowledged their arrival without interrupting the call, and she nodded to the chair opposite. “Last thing we need is someone else in the ER. Okay. I love him too and you too.”

She hung up and set the phone down.

“Dad?” Kelly asked.

Kathleen wrapped both hands around the plastic cup and nodded. She had her pajama top on over her jeans—cartoon kittens caught midpounce on robin’s-egg blue satin. Her face was bare and shiny, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth harsher than Kelly remembered them.

“Jim was at a training seminar in San Diego. Thank God, I talked Worth into going down with him.” She fretfully checked the top button of her pajama top and first undid and then redid it. “Thank God I made Worth go down with him. He thought I was being paranoid, told me he was fine, but he’s not up to the drive, not after a shock like this. Claire. Thank you so much for coming.”

That was what she said. Kelly mutely translated it to what actually happened. Out from under Kathleen’s healthy regime for the day, Jim had gotten legless in a bar—there was always one—with other old cops.

Kathleen held her hand out and clutched Claire’s bony, freckled fingers tightly as she murmured how it would be fine, that Byron had a strong will and so many people cared about him. It was almost a prayer—two gingery women standing in front of a shadowy, plate glass window.

Kelly let them get on with it. It was the lie that bothered him. Maybe that was unfair, but his dad was a drunk, the life and soul of the party, until he’d got to America and people tutted “alcoholic.” He never beat anyone or broke anything. The worst he’d ever done was try to book them all on a flight back home after a particularly bad year. The only one he hurt was himself.

So why lie about it to two people who probably knew better?

“What about Wilde?” he asked. “Cole?”

Kathleen shook her head. “They have to work. I told them to come in the morning.

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