but himself to having a house in the suburbs and three kids. He couldn’t quite get his mind around that. Like Lily said, this was a life sentence.
“Is Lily still going to sleep in the guest room?” Charlie asked.
“She’s not staying, genius,” said Cameron.
“You’re not?” Pigtails flying, Charlie whipped her head around to face Lily.
“I can’t, sweetheart,” Lily said. “But I promise I’ll be here for you. I’ll see you at school every day, and I’ll come on the nights when your uncle is working.”
Sean let out the breath he’d been holding. They’d gone over something called a preliminary parenting plan with the social worker. Sean could tell Lily wasn’t happy with the arrangement, but she didn’t let the kids know how she felt. That was the thing about Lily. She definitely put the kids first. He knew she was furious about the terms of the will, yet for the sake of these kids, she was keeping her disapproval to herself.
“Who’ll take care of us when we go to Dad’s?” asked Charlie.
“We’re not going to Dad’s, moron,” said Cameron. “He’s not there. Don’t you get it?”
“Hey,” Sean told him. “That’s enough.”
Charlie hung her head.
“Look, we’re going to make this work,” Sean said, but no one was listening because Ashley chose that moment to flip the waist-level switch of the garbage disposal. The buzz of the machine startled her into wide-eyed silence. Then her face crumpled like a wadded-up Kleenex and she let out one of those armor-piercing howls.
Everyone in the room went for her—Sean, Lily, Cameron and even Charlie—all desperate to console her. Sean reached her first, scooping her against him. Around midweek, she’d decided he was all right and now let him hold her whenever he wanted. She clung to him and eventually the fearful sobs shuddered into silence. Then she pushed her fists against his chest and looked him in the eye.
“Da,” she said.
An eerie sensation crept over him. “Uncle Sean. That’s my name. Can you say it? Un-cle Sean.”
“Da,” she said again, and stuck her thumb in her mouth.
Charlie came into Cameron’s room late that night, looking scruffy and a little lost in their mother’s nightgown, her eyes wide in an expression he would have laughed at if he hadn’t recognized the terrible fear she was feeling.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “What are you doing up?”
“It’s about Ashley,” Charlie said in a small, frightened voice.
Oh, man. Not Charlie, too. Who else knew about this?
Cameron felt sorry for her so he put his arm around her and hugged her close. She felt warm and solid against him and her hair smelled of baby shampoo.
“What about her?” he made himself ask, even though he knew. God, he knew and he was getting just as scared as Charlie.
“Mom said dad isn’t Ashley’s father. She said Ashley has another father.”
Cameron took a deep breath. What was he supposed to do, tell the kid their mother was a liar or let her know she’d slept around?
“When did she say that?”
“After spring break. She was all mad that dad took us to California.”
A cold fist squeezed Cameron’s gut. “Did she say that to Dad?”
“No. Just me. She, um, she was sad and mad and there was nobody else to talk to.”
She’d probably had a bottle of wine that night, like the night she’d told Cameron. Anger at his mother burned like acid in his stomach. It did no good at all to feel pissed at his parents anymore, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself.
“There’s probably some mistake,” Cameron said. “You heard it wrong. She didn’t mean anything.”
“She told me,” Charlie said. “People think I’m stupid but I’m not. She said Ashley has another daddy and I’m scared he’s going to come and take her away.”
Cameron was afraid of that, too. “The most important thing is to keep quiet. It’s just a story and you’ll only cause trouble if you say something.”
“I won’t tell,” she whispered.
“You don’t need to. Nobody’s going to take her away,” he vowed, putting his other arm around her. Saying so made him feel the way he always felt—he didn’t even know whether or not he was telling the truth.
Charlie sobbed so hard that she choked, so he hugged her again. “Hey,” he said, rubbing her back through the silky, too-big nightgown that still had their mother’s scent. “Hey, try to calm down, okay?”
“I try that all the time, but I want them, Cam. I have to talk to them and hug them. I miss them so much.” She seemed