boys at the top—or close to it—of his priorities list. The ebb and flow of Cora's mercurial mood swings had never seemed like a challenge for Eddy, and often Austin found himself wishing the man had left detailed directives, so he'd know how to sidetrack her when self-pity got hold of her head and heart. Unfortunately, Cora didn't come with a "Care and Maintenance of a Grieving Widow" instruction manual.
Of course he felt sorry for her, and sure, he knew that losing Eddy had been rough on her. And packing up the house they'd shared to move from New York to Maryland couldn't have been easy, either, especially with two rambunctious little boys.
But hundreds of people had lost their spouses on 9/11.Surely they weren't all still wallowing in self-pity, especially if they had kids. Eddy had been gone nearly ten years. When would Cora learn to cope with the grief and get on with her life, if not for her own sake, then for her boys'?
You're a fine one to talk. Because if it hadn't been for his pal Griff—
"We saw a really bad crash on the news," Raymond said, changing the subject. "Did you take some of those people to the hospital?"
His brain zapped back to the here and now as he admitted that, on any given day, a dozen accidents might foul up the Baltimore roadways, particularly during rush hour. Before he had a chance to ask the location of the one Ray had mentioned, Ricky gave his brother a playful shove. "Shut up, Raymo. Austin doesn't want to talk about blood and guts while he's eating."
Ray screwed up his face and doubled up a fist. "If you don't quit callin' me that, I'm gonna—"
Rick snickered. "My mistake. I meant to call you—"
"Raymond, Richard, please!" And Cora, God save her whiny soul, ran both hands through her hair. "Can't I have just one hour without your incessant bickering?"
If her voice seemed shrill to Austin, what must it sound like to the twins, who had to listen to it all day, every day? Their young shoulders sagged as sour expressions replaced their grins. "Sorry, Mom," came their droning monotone.
His heart ached for them. They were only behaving like normal kids, right? Or did it only seem that way to him because he didn't have kids of his own?
Something told him his mindset would be the same, even if he had to deal with them 24-7-365, because he wanted kids, and he'd have a houseful, if he could find a woman who didn't consistently put her own needs ahead of her children's. A woman like Mercy.
Far better to focus on the promise he'd made to Eddy. Like it or not, he'd watch over this woman and these boys, no matter how hard she made it.
Austin clapped his hands once. "I'm starved, so what say we eat!"
Two chairs squealed across the linoleum and the kids dug into the fast food bags, distributing burgers and fries and sodas with the smooth efficiency of a Vegas dealer, chattering the whole time. When Ray got up for extra ketchup, Rick said, "How 'bout grabbin' the mustard, long as you've got your big head in the fridge?"
"We're identical twins," Ray shot back. "If my head's big, so's yours."
"Yeah, but you're four minutes older, so your head's four minutes bigger."
Even Ray had to chuckle at that one, and Austin joined them. He didn't think he could love them more if they'd been his own flesh and blood. To add to his pleasure, the older they got, the more they reminded him of his partner and best friend—a miracle in itself, since they'd only been one when their dad died. Their mannerisms, wry sense of humor, genuine desire to please the people they loved, just like Eddy.
He got a kick out of listening to their exchanges, and marveled at the way their minds worked. Much as he wanted to zero in on them now, he knew he'd better keep a wary eye on their mother. Earlier, she'd claimed to have recognized the worn-out look on his face. Well, he'd seen the one she wore right now, too. At times like these, Cora reminded him of a Mylar balloon, filled too full of helium. Any minute, she'd
Of course he felt sorry for her, and sure, he knew that losing Eddy had been rough on her. And packing up the house they'd shared to move from New York to Maryland couldn't have been easy, either, especially with two rambunctious little boys.
But hundreds of people had lost their spouses on 9/11.Surely they weren't all still wallowing in self-pity, especially if they had kids. Eddy had been gone nearly ten years. When would Cora learn to cope with the grief and get on with her life, if not for her own sake, then for her boys'?
You're a fine one to talk. Because if it hadn't been for his pal Griff—
"We saw a really bad crash on the news," Raymond said, changing the subject. "Did you take some of those people to the hospital?"
His brain zapped back to the here and now as he admitted that, on any given day, a dozen accidents might foul up the Baltimore roadways, particularly during rush hour. Before he had a chance to ask the location of the one Ray had mentioned, Ricky gave his brother a playful shove. "Shut up, Raymo. Austin doesn't want to talk about blood and guts while he's eating."
Ray screwed up his face and doubled up a fist. "If you don't quit callin' me that, I'm gonna—"
Rick snickered. "My mistake. I meant to call you—"
"Raymond, Richard, please!" And Cora, God save her whiny soul, ran both hands through her hair. "Can't I have just one hour without your incessant bickering?"
If her voice seemed shrill to Austin, what must it sound like to the twins, who had to listen to it all day, every day? Their young shoulders sagged as sour expressions replaced their grins. "Sorry, Mom," came their droning monotone.
His heart ached for them. They were only behaving like normal kids, right? Or did it only seem that way to him because he didn't have kids of his own?
Something told him his mindset would be the same, even if he had to deal with them 24-7-365, because he wanted kids, and he'd have a houseful, if he could find a woman who didn't consistently put her own needs ahead of her children's. A woman like Mercy.
Far better to focus on the promise he'd made to Eddy. Like it or not, he'd watch over this woman and these boys, no matter how hard she made it.
Austin clapped his hands once. "I'm starved, so what say we eat!"
Two chairs squealed across the linoleum and the kids dug into the fast food bags, distributing burgers and fries and sodas with the smooth efficiency of a Vegas dealer, chattering the whole time. When Ray got up for extra ketchup, Rick said, "How 'bout grabbin' the mustard, long as you've got your big head in the fridge?"
"We're identical twins," Ray shot back. "If my head's big, so's yours."
"Yeah, but you're four minutes older, so your head's four minutes bigger."
Even Ray had to chuckle at that one, and Austin joined them. He didn't think he could love them more if they'd been his own flesh and blood. To add to his pleasure, the older they got, the more they reminded him of his partner and best friend—a miracle in itself, since they'd only been one when their dad died. Their mannerisms, wry sense of humor, genuine desire to please the people they loved, just like Eddy.
He got a kick out of listening to their exchanges, and marveled at the way their minds worked. Much as he wanted to zero in on them now, he knew he'd better keep a wary eye on their mother. Earlier, she'd claimed to have recognized the worn-out look on his face. Well, he'd seen the one she wore right now, too. At times like these, Cora reminded him of a Mylar balloon, filled too full of helium. Any minute, she'd
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