Free Turning Thirty-Twelve by Sandy James Page B

minutes so I wouldn’t have to face him.
    “I know. I’m here to see my oldest girl.”
    Shocked at the entirely crazy turn of events, I’d forgotten that his daughter had told me she was attending Indiana University. What was her name? Candy? Katie?
    “Kathy!” Mark practically shouted as the young woman I recognized from OfficeMax walked in the door.
    My heart almost stopped beating when my Nate followed her inside—especially when they were holding hands.
    You’ve got to be freaking kidding me! Is Candid Camera here? Or is it America’s Funniest Home Videos?
    Mark’s daughter and my son were a couple.
    Nate dropped Kathy’s hand and came over and gave me a hug. I was so shocked, I’m not even sure I hugged back. From the corner of my eye, I saw Kathy hugging Mark and then Carly before she went quickly back to Nate’s side. My son took her hand and dragged her to me. For a quick and very bizarre moment, it reminded me of a cat dragging a dead mouse home for its owner’s approval.
    My mind raced in about a thousand different directions, none of which I could control. I was furious with Mark. I was happy for Nate while simultaneously being angry with him for picking the only girl on the enormous campus who could make me face Mark Brennan. If these two were dating, there was a distinct possibility I’d have to see him again and again.
    It took every ounce of strength I had not to run out the door, jump in my car, and get the hell out of there. I was on the verge of a panic attack as my heart pounded and my stomach clenched.
    Breathe, Jackie. Breathe .
    I kept telling myself that I could not throw up now—not in front of Mark.
    “Mom,” Nate said, sounding tentative, “this is Kat Brennan.”
    “We’ve met,” I replied.
    My son stared at me with wide eyes.
    “That’s right.” Kathy snapped her fingers and a smiled. “Jackie, right?”
    I nodded.
    Kathy glanced over at her father. “Daddy, this is Nate Ryan.”
    “Ah. Ryan , not Delgado . Different name,” Mark said. “That’s why I didn’t catch the connection.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Way to go, Sherlock. No wonder you’re a detective. I’m can’t believe you even remembered my name.” I muttered it sarcastically, hoping no one heard me. My stupid brain-before-mouth filter was obviously on the fritz again.
    Things were already entirely too surreal when Patrick stirred up the mix by walking into the restaurant, whistling a tune. He punched his brother’s upper arm as he passed, and then he hugged me. It must have felt like embracing a stiff board.
    I was still ready to bolt.
    Or vomit.
    I hadn’t decided.
    “Mom? What’s wrong?” Patrick pulled away, knit his brows, and stared down at me with concern clearly etched on his face. I must have looked as bad as I felt.
    I tried to swallow my escalating anxiety so everyone in The Chuckwagon didn’t suddenly figure out I was a damned basket case. “I–I’m fine.” My mouth was full of cotton, and my hands were shaking as if I’d just guzzled my third espresso.
    “Mom? Don’t you feel well?” It was evidently Nate’s turn to ask.
    “I’m...fine. Look, Nate. I really... I mean I’d like to...”
    Shit!
    If I asked him whether I could just leave, Mark would know he’d won—that he’d gotten to me. If I stayed, I’d have to talk to him. Either way, I lost.
    God damn it anyway .
    “I really need to go back. I–I forgot to...lock the door at home. And I think I left Jellybean out of his cage.”
    You’re a coward, Jackie Delgado.
    “You’re leaving?” Nate’s voice held so much disappointment that it made my heart clench and my stomach roil some more. “You’re really leaving?”
    I nodded and tried to hold back the angry tears as I started edging a few hesitant steps toward the door.
    Carly stopped me with a simple hug. Of all the surprises in the world, I don’t think I could ever have been prepared for that girl throwing herself in my path and wrapping her arms around