The Other Woman's Son

“We moved to Little Rock after the divorce, because my mother couldn’t stand the thought of running into your mother,” Jenna said. “She got child support but no alimony, so she worked menial jobs during the day and went to school at night. I was seven. My brother Jeff was twelve. He watched me night after night, because my mother didn’t have the money for a babysitter.”

Clay said nothing, his eyes steady on her as she talked.

“We moved into a tiny house that was too cold in the winter and too hot in the summer. We were all homesick for Memphis. Those first few years, my mother cried all the time. We rarely saw my father. But eventually things got easier and we got through it.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Clay asked when she paused to gather her thoughts.

“Because my mother used to say the three of us were all the family we needed.” She sucked in some oxygen, finding the tale hard to tell. “That’s the way it was. That’s the way it still is. So I want to make it clear I won’t have a relationship with your sister.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “How about me? Will you have a relationship with me?”

She fidgeted, annoyed at herself for reading nuances into the question that weren’t there. He was talking about a business relationship, not a personal one.

“I realize it would be impossible not to because you own the bar. But we don’t have to be…” She groped for a word. “…friendly.”

He uncrossed his arms, leaned his strong forearms on the table and looked at her from under long, male eyelashes. “So sitting here like this, talking together, that’s out?”

She had to clear her throat before she could manage a reply. “Unless it’s about business, yes.”

“Will you be unfriendly to Darcy, too?”

“Not if you don’t try to push us together. That’s why I came here today. To get assurances from you that you’ll respect my desire not to get to know her.”

He expelled an audible breath through his nose. “I can hardly tell my sister she’s not welcome to drop by my bar.”