For All She Knows (Potomac Point #3) - Jamie Beck Page 0,6

seen him attentively playing with his eldest cousin’s toddlers that he’d be exactly the kind of father I wanted for my someday children.

“I’m finished, too,” Kim said. The salad on her plate had mingled with gravy.

“I guess you don’t want a brownie.” I stood, aware my exerting control here was a compensating tactic to cover my nerves.

Kim screwed up her face before forcing a leaf of warm soggy lettuce down her throat.

“Please help your dad finish cleaning up while I get ready.” I kissed her head before dashing upstairs to put on my game face.

I swiped a finger beneath my eyes to clear away mascara smudges, then brushed my teeth before applying lipstick. Eyeing myself in the mirror, I imagined Mimi giving me a pep talk. Despite facing one catastrophe after another, she rallied in the face of the insurmountable. It was impossible not to admire a woman who rolled up her sleeves and worked her butt off to overcome whatever was thrown at her, which was one reason I hadn’t acquiesced to the gossips and naysayers. I never wanted to alienate or hurt her, which made tonight tricky. I grabbed my purse on my way downstairs, doubts festering.

“See you later!” I called to the kids from the mudroom, where Sam was holding my coat open for me.

“Bye!” came their voices from the vicinity of the family room.

After I’d slipped on the coat, Sam hugged me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “You’re gonna do great.”

My rock since the day we met. Friendly and optimistic. Giving and patient. Hardworking and earnest. There wasn’t one thing I didn’t like about Sam. He was my friend, my lover, my partner. Of all my accomplishments, I was proudest of the homelife we’d created. We trusted each other implicitly, and were aligned in most everything right down to our favorite dessert—carrot cake.

In contrast, Mimi’s ex barely paid child support. She had no one except Rowan at home to keep her company, either. Such a shame, because Mimi had a lot of love to share.

When Sam passed town hall, he took a right and drove two blocks to park in Saint Anne’s parking lot. From there we jogged to the meeting in the dark. The formidable brick building sat atop a sloped lawn, its windows blazing with light and the heraldic state flag flapping in the breeze.

Sam wrapped an arm around my shoulder and kissed my temple as we entered through the main doors. When I’d stammered while accepting a minor honor for my work with the middle school Service League of Boys (known affectionately as SLOBs), Mimi had smiled encouragingly from the audience. She wouldn’t be cheering me on tonight, but whether I embarrassed myself at the mic or we ultimately lost this fight, it helped to know that Sam would always be by my side.

Carrie stood outside the auditorium doors. Her stout build and razor-short hair made her resemble a bouncer more than a PTC board member.

“Have you seen Mimi?” I asked.

Not that anyone had to look too hard to spot her most days. She lit up any room she entered with her smile—a trait I somewhat envied. If she was here, Carrie would know.

“Nope, but I’ve been too busy looking for you to notice.” She raised her eyebrows while cracking her knuckles. “We’ve got twelve of us ready to stand up at the mic. The others are gathered together inside.”

Only twelve? The weight of responsibility rested on my shoulders like a yoke.

I grabbed her hand and squeezed it for a moment. “Let’s go.”

With a deep breath, I entered the crowded auditorium with Sam on my arm.

Showtime.

CHAPTER TWO

MIMI

January 4, 5:45 p.m.

Sandy Shores Care Center, Potomac Point

“Use extra spray, Mimi. This has to last all night.” Agnes Folger’s wrinkled, age-worn face beamed, even in her lamplit room at the Sandy Shores Care Center. She pointed at some of the framed photographs scattered on the shelves of the slim bamboo bookcase against the wall. “My daughter’s family is coming down from DC to take me to dinner for my birthday.”

I grabbed her shoulders to give her a little hug. “If you’d told me it was your birthday, I would’ve brought some razzle-dazzle for your hair.”

Agnes raised her bony hands and wiggled her fingers. “Ooh, I love razzle-dazzle.”

It took so little to elicit a smile from the seniors who resided here. A little attention. A little silliness. A little hope of something different from the routines inside these walls. That’s what kept me coming