Part-Time Wife. Susan MalleryЧитать онлайн книгу.
to the kitchen. It was up two steps from the family room. The boys moved toward her. Jill stared at the kitchen and thought she might faint.
There wasn’t a square inch of free counter space. Dishes, open boxes of cereal, empty containers of milk, cookies and bags of chips were everywhere. Cupboards were open; most of the shelves were bare. She thought of C.J.’s claim that upstairs was worse. She didn’t want to know.
“Where are we going to have our meeting?” Danny asked.
She looked down at him. His light brown eyes were bright with questions and welcome. His shy smile was hard to resist. She glanced around to find a relatively clean spot. Through the kitchen she saw a formal dining room. The table didn’t look too overrun with schoolbooks and sports equipment.
“In there,” she said, pointing. “Come on, Ben.”
The boy ignored her.
She walked over to stand in front of the TV. She was blocking the screen, but he continued to stare as if he could see the program.
“Don’t you want to talk?” she asked.
“No. You’re not going to stay, so why should I bother?”
“Because it’s polite. The world is a nicer place when everyone tries to get along.”
“You read that on a bumper sticker?” he asked rudely, still not looking at her.
“Oh, a smartmouth,” she said. “Very nice. Very impressive. You think if you intimidate me, you get your way?”
He shrugged.
Ben had his father’s dark hair. She suspected he had his eyes, too, but he wouldn’t look at her so she couldn’t tell. He was a good-looking kid, although about twenty pounds overweight.
From the corner of her eye, she saw C.J. and Danny watching. She hated being tested her first five minutes on the job and she hated it more that the other two brothers were here to witness the event. If she didn’t get Ben’s attention, the next five weeks were going to be miserable. She and Craig had given each other an out by agreeing to a one-week trial. If she really hated it here, she wouldn’t mind leaving after that time, but she didn’t want to be run off by a twelve-year-old with an attitude problem. She had her pride.
More than that, Ben reminded her of a growling but lonely dog. The animal desperately wants petting, but it’s afraid to let anyone close enough. So instead, it scares the world away, then whimpers because it’s alone.
Of course, she could be reading the situation completely wrong. After all, she’d had stepdaughters for nearly five years and had assumed they cared about her. She’d been proven wrong.
She spun around, then turned off the television. “Please come into the dining room, Ben.”
She took a step away. Ben leaned forward and pressed a button on the remote control. The television popped back on. Defiance this soon wasn’t good. Jill drew in a deep breath, not sure what to do. She and Craig hadn’t discussed discipline. Of course, there hadn’t been time to discuss anything.
She thought about physically threatening Ben. There were two problems with that. First, it wasn’t really her style. Second, she had a feeling he was taller than her. If only she knew what Craig did in situations like this. Then she looked around at the messy house and the three boys with emotionally hungry eyes. Maybe there wasn’t a house rule. Maybe no one had the time or cared enough to lay down the law.
The problem with her trying to do it was that she didn’t have a power base.
She could feel C.J. and Danny still watching her, waiting to see what she would do. This showdown with Ben was going to set the tone for her five weeks…or her one week, if she blew it.
Nothing like performing under pressure, she thought, staring at Ben and praying for inspiration. Like a gift from heaven, it arrived.
She smiled, then bent over and swept everything off the right half of the coffee table. Books, magazines, the television remote control, three glasses that were, fortunately, empty and plastic, and a half-eaten sandwich. Ben looked startled. Good. Better to keep him off-balance.
She knelt in front of the coffee table and placed her elbow on the slick wooden surface. She flexed and released her hand. “You ready to back up that smart mouth with some action?” she asked, trying to sound confident and tough. This was all going to blow up in her face if he beat her.
“What are you talking about?”
“You and me. Right here. Right now.” She smiled. “Arm wrestling, Ben. If you win, you get to sit here and watch TV until you’re old and gray and your bones are dissolving. If I win, you do what I say. Starting with turning off the TV and coming with your brothers for a meeting.”
“Cool!” C.J. said. “You can beat him, Jill.”
Ben glared at his brother. “This is stupid,” he muttered.
But he wasn’t looking at the television anymore, Jill thought triumphantly. She shrugged. “Maybe. If you’re chicken.”
“I’m not chicken.”
Danny made a clucking noise.
“Shut up, brat.”
“I’m not a brat.”
“You’re a shrimpy brat.”
“Boys.” Jill spoke firmly. Both of them looked at her. She stared at Ben. “Put up or shut up, young man. Either you’re tough, or you’re not. Let’s find out.”
Those dark eyes stared at her. She tried to figure out what he was thinking, but along with his father’s good looks, Ben had inherited Craig’s ability to keep some of his thoughts to himself.
“If I win, I get to watch TV and I get five bucks.”
She thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. “If I win, you not only do what I say, but you give up TV for the weekend.”
Ben glanced at her right arm, then at her. “Deal.” He slid off the sofa and onto the carpet. After placing his elbow on the coffee table, he clasped her hand with his. C.J. and Danny moved closer.
“Come on, Jill, you can do it,” Danny said loudly. He ignored Ben’s glare.
Jill hoped the boy’s confidence in her was going to pay off. Since moving in with Kim, she’d started working out with light weights. She knew she was stronger than she had been, but was it enough? She knew very little about the strength of twelve-year-old boys. She could only hope that Ben’s inactive lifestyle gave her an advantage.
Her gaze locked with Ben’s. A flicker of uncertainty flashed through his eyes. She thought he might be a little afraid of winning. That would give him more power than most children would find comfortable. At least she liked to think so.
“C.J., you say go,” she said, and shifted on the carpet. Ben would probably go for the quick kill. If she could hold on during that, she might have a chance. If she could win, she would make it look hard, so Ben could save face.
Ah, the complications of dealing with a houseful of men, she thought. She leaned forward so she could have the maximum leverage and sucked in a breath.
“Go!” C.J. yelled.
Jill thought she’d prepared herself for the assault, but when it came, Ben nearly drove her hand into the table. She managed to keep him from slamming it down, but barely. She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.
She didn’t look at him or either of the other boys. She focused all her attention on her arm, willing it to be strong.
She finally managed to get their hands back in an upright position. She pressed hard, and he gave. She risked