Ex’s and Oh’s Read online

  Praise for the work of Sandra Steffen

  “Steffen is one of those authors whose characters and their emotions ring true, which makes each book a heartfelt treat.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKclub

  “Steffen’s characters are thoroughly and thoughtfully conceived…the charm of this tale lies in her lovely portrayal of complex family relationships.”

  —Publishers Weekly on The Cottage

  “Sandra Steffen is a veritable master at creating characters. On a scale of 1–10, a 15!”

  —ReaderToReader.com

  “Steffen knows exactly how hard to tug on reader’s heartstrings for maximum effect.”

  —Booklist

  “Warm, unforgettable characters come to life in Sandra’s small town setting.”

  —Round Table Reviews on Come Summer

  “A compelling, heartwarming tale. Steffen is a talented author to watch.”

  —Bestselling author Kat Martin on The Cottage

  “A charming, intense story. High drama and gentle reflection—the perfect mix.”

  —Bestselling author Stella Cameron on The Cottage

  “A powerfully riveting story that pulls the reader in from page one and doesn’t stop…one of the most original plots I’ve ever seen…flawless characterization.”

  —Romance Reviews Today on Come Summer

  Sandra Steffen

  Sandra Steffen has always been a storyteller. She began nurturing this hidden talent by concocting adventures for her brothers and sisters, even though the boys were more interested in her ability to hit a baseball over the barn—an automatic home run. She didn’t begin her pursuit of publication until she was a young wife and mother of four sons. Since her thrilling debut as a published author in 1992, thirty-three of her novels have graced bookshelves across the country.

  Professional reviewers have called Sandra a veritable master at creating characters, and her books well written, satisfying and intelligent. Her most cherished review came from her youngest son recently when he said, “Mom, I hear your voice as I’m reading your book.”

  This winner of the RITA® Award, the W.I.S.H. Award and the National Readers’ Choice Award enjoys traveling with her husband. Usually their destinations are settings for her upcoming books. They are empty nesters these days. Who knew it could be so much fun? Please visit her at www.sandrasteffen.com.

  SANDRA STEFFEN

  Ex’s and Oh’s

  Dear Reader,

  Have you seen the photo on TheNextNovel.com Web site? I feel like that woman, hanging out a car window, going someplace I never planned to go but now can’t wait to get there. Surely such an adventure would require the right shoes. Like most women, I have a closet full of pumps and sandals and heels and flats, but since I spend so many hours in my home office, I rarely have the opportunity to wear most of them.

  Luckily, as a writer I’m able to live vicariously through the characters I invent. In my newest creation, Ex’s and Oh’s, a smart Chicago-based attorney named Caroline Moore wears all the gorgeous and decadent shoes I can’t. Things are going perfectly for Caroline and for me when she kicks off her city shoes and moves to a small town on Lake Michigan, where she becomes enmeshed in the lives of a few ex’s, and experiences plenty of oh’s. (Think oh dear, oh my and oh #!*% :o)

  Writing Ex’s and Oh’s reminded me that the best and most meaningful adventures rarely conform to my original plan. Here’s to all our adventures, those we experience personally and those we experience vicariously.

  I hope you visit TheNextNovel.com Web site.

  While you’re online, drop in and see me at www.sandrasteffen.com. I would love to hear from you!

  Always,

  Sandra

  For my uncle, Lyle Steffen, who tells

  the best stories about the good old days.

  And for the nurses, aides, therapists and

  all the staff who care for the residents at

  Hazel Findlay Country Manor with

  kindness, compassion and dignity.

  Acknowledgments

  A special thank-you to Jennifer Green, a brilliant young attorney whose knowledge of the law and its terminology aided me so much in my creation of Caroline Moore in this story. And I must commend Susan Meeder for her descriptions and firsthand knowledge of Charlevoix, Michigan. And always, thank you, Linda Thelen, fellow writer and brainstormer extraordinaire. A heartfelt thanks to my busy and talented editor, Melissa Jeglinski, and also to Tara Gavin, editorial director. Hats off to both of you for giving me the opportunity to tell my poignant stories.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  CHAPTER 1

  If one more person asked Caroline Moore if she was all right, she was going to explode. And Caroline never exploded. She breathed deeply. She meditated. She looked beyond any given situation, considering every possible angle. But she didn’t explode.

  Today was different. Today, she’d buried her grandfather. And no, she wasn’t all right. All right wasn’t even close.

  Seeing the last of the neighbors to the door, she closed her eyes, her hand going automatically to her throat. The collar of her silk blouse was open, her necklace a fine gold chain from which hung a delicate charm that had been her mother’s. There was nothing physically restrictive, yet she felt a constraint so tight it was difficult to breathe.

  “Are you all right, Caroline?” Steven Phillips asked.

  She forced a deep breath, tamped down an inner explosion and did her best to pull herself together. A fellow attorney, Steven was widely known for his litigation expertise. She’d been seeing him since his divorce became final a year ago. He’d been preoccupied lately. But then, so had she.

  She joined him at the French doors, their shoulders close but not quite touching. Neither seemed to have any desire to move closer.

  “It’s been a long few days for you,” he said.

  Forty-two years old, Steven was of average height and build. The silver in his hair gave him a wizened look clients trusted. Looking at him, it occurred to her that he had something on his mind. That made two of them. “There’s something I need to talk to you about, Steven.”

  One of the reasons he won so many lawsuits for his clients was that he was good at bluffing. He wasn’t just good at it; he was stupendous at it, which made whatever she glimpsed in his eyes more alarming. Instinctively, she proceeded with caution. “Can you come to dinner at my apartment downtown tomorrow evening?”

  “I can’t make it tomorrow night, Caroline.”

  Normally, he was a talker. She found it strange that he didn’t elaborate. Fighting a bout of queasiness, she said, “Perhaps this shouldn’t wait until tomorrow anyway.”

  He glanced sharply at her. “I was going to tell you.”

  He was going to tell her? What was he talking about? Luckily, she was good at bluffing, too. “When?” she asked. “When were you planning to tell me?”

  A muscle worked in his jaw, and something clicked in her brain. She’d handled enough divorce cases to recognize someone guilty of cheating. “God, Steven.”

  “It’s not like that.” There was nothing quite like a lawyer jumping to his own defense. “Brenda and I have been talking, and we’ve come to realize the divorce was a mistake.”

  A mista
ke? That was a good one. “The woman you’re seeing behind my back is your ex-wife?”

  “She’s the mother of my children. Believe me, this is not sordid.”

  The floor pitched. Regaining her equilibrium, she said, “Then you haven’t been sleeping with both of us?”

  His mouth thinned and his expression hardened. “I know this is a shock, but frankly, I’m a little surprised you’re upset.”

  Trying to think, Caroline fingered the charm on her necklace. Her life was falling apart around her, but this wasn’t the surprise she’d had in mind.

  “I’m sorry,” Steven said. “I know this is a difficult time for you. That’s why we didn’t want to tell you until you’d had a chance to—”

  We?

  “Brenda knows about me? About us?”

  “I didn’t want to begin our trial reconciliation with a lie between us. I’ve never seen my boys this happy. Think about them.”

  He wanted her to think about his children. That was priceless.

  “They’ve been in counseling since the divorce. Brenda and I have been worried about them. You and I have talked about that.”

  A few months earlier, Caroline had spent an afternoon at the aquarium with Steven’s sons. The outing had been awkward and difficult. Caroline didn’t pretend to know much about children, but the boys’ dislike for her had been painfully obvious.

  “I’m sorry about your grandfather. I know how you felt about Henry. In fact, I’ve always gotten the impression he was the only man you needed in your life.”

  She felt hollow, empty and bereft. She wanted to tell him she had needs, too, but her pride kept her still. “I think you should go, Steven.”

  She hated him for looking relieved.

  At the door he said, “It’s not as if you’ve ever mentioned the future, let alone one that included marriage or a family.”

  It was difficult to know whether to laugh or cry.

  He was watching her, his head turned at an unnatural angle, accentuating his long neck and prominent Adam’s apple. “I’ve fallen in love with my ex-wife all over again. Haven’t you ever been in love?”

  He let himself out without waiting for her answer.

  Caroline couldn’t seem to stop shaking. She closed the French doors, then stared through the wavy glass, shivering. Her grandfather’s favorite mesh patio furniture faced Lake Michigan, which today was as gray as the May sky. How many times had she found him sitting there, quietly looking out across the vast water?

  He’d been her only family since her parents’ deaths when she was eight. It couldn’t have been easy for him, and yet he’d taken her in and made a home for her. He’d devoted his life to raising her.

  She shivered again. For some reason, Steven’s question about being in love really bothered her. She’d thought she was in love once or twice a long time ago, but the sentiment had faded. It was a well-known fact that women had to work twice as hard as men in this field. She’d worked three times as hard. She’d set goals and systematically met each one. In doing so, she’d made sacrifices along the way. And no, she’d never been truly in love. Until recently, that hadn’t felt like a tragedy. But Caroline had bigger problems. One big problem, to be exact.

  Maria Gonzales, her grandfather’s housekeeper, was washing dishes when Caroline entered the kitchen a few minutes later.

  “Could you use some help?” Caroline asked.

  “I could use some company,” Maria answered. “Sit. I don’t know how you walk in those shoes.”

  Caroline didn’t trust herself to smile, so she did as Maria said, lowering to the chair where she’d eaten breakfast every morning during her formative years. Leaning back, she slid her feet out of her Manolo Blahniks. The shoes had been a gift to herself after she won the Hiller-Dalton case last month. Once, a reporter had called her penchant for buying expensive, imported shoes a fetish. Caroline hadn’t addressed the reporter’s statement, for doing so would have lent it credence, which would have been stupid. And Caroline had never been stupid.

  Until recently, that is.

  “Try not to think,” Maria said, drying a platter. “It will all work out. You’ll see. I told my Carmen the same thing this morning. She’s eighteen now, and a worrier like her father.”

  Caroline looked at the family photograph Maria kept on the windowsill. Maria and her husband Miguel had three children: Carmen, Dominic and the baby. He must be four now. His name escaped Caroline. Maria had come to work for Henry O’Shaughnessy the same year Caroline left to study law at Columbia University in New York. She’d always treated Caroline well, and vice versa, and yet in all the years they’d known each other and all the times they’d spoken, most of their conversations had been about Caroline’s grandfather or the weather or the news. Now she regretted that they’d never shared more personal information.

  “Am I coldhearted, Maria?”

  Maria took so long considering the question that Caroline braced herself for an unpleasant truth.

  Finally, Maria said, “You’re busy, but you’re not cold. You’re like your shoes. Beautiful, supple, exquisitely crafted, but out of the average person’s league.”

  The description made Caroline sigh.

  In so many ways, Caroline and Maria were opposites. Their common link had been their mutual love for Henry O’Shaughnessy. Caroline’s grandfather had been stubborn and well-spoken, kind and opinionated until he’d died suddenly of a heart attack four days ago. There was no question that he’d loved them, too. His last will and testament had already been read, Maria’s dedication rewarded handsomely. She’d agreed to stay on until Caroline decided what to do with the beautiful old house. Although not a decadent amount, the inheritance gave Maria options she hadn’t expected. Caroline knew the other woman would have managed without the monetary gift, for she was one of those women who knew how to be happy regardless of her situation.

  Caroline envied her that.

  “How old are you, Maria?”

  Looking surprised by the question, she said, “I’m thirty-eight. Antonio thinks his mother is old.”

  Antonio. The baby’s name was Antonio. But Maria wasn’t old. She was five years younger than Caroline. “Look at all you have.”

  Laying a hand over Caroline’s, Maria said, “You’re just a late bloomer. Now you will catch up. There’s nothing like having a baby. You’ll see.”

  Caroline’s mouth dropped open. She hadn’t told a soul about this. She’d thrown the home pregnancy kit in the trash downtown. Until this week, she’d had no morning sickness, and that she’d attributed to shock and sadness. According to her calculations, she was only two-and-a-half months along. “How did you know?”

  “When you’ve been there three times,” Maria said sagely, “you recognize the signs. Plus, it’s been several months since anything has been moved on the middle shelf in the bathroom you use when you stay here. Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”

  Until that moment, Caroline hadn’t allowed herself to think in those terms. When she was late the first month, she’d blamed it on stress. Two weeks later she’d researched early menopause on the Internet. By the second month she’d decided it was most likely cancer. She couldn’t be pregnant. She was on the pill. Besides, single, forty-three-year-old crackerjack attorneys who worked their butts off to make partner did not have surprise pregnancies.

  “What did Señor Phillips say?”

  “He’s going back to his ex-wife and their two kids.”

  “But how—what about—you didn’t tell him?”

  Shaking her head, Caroline watched for Maria’s reaction.

  Maria took the information in stride the way she took everything in stride. She took life exactly as it was. She didn’t try to manipulate it, change it or get around it.

  Caroline envied her that, as well.

  “Now,” Maria said, “if you’re lucky, the baby won’t have a skinny neck and big Adam’s apple. Just to be safe, let’s hope it’s a girl.”

  Why on earth tha
t struck Caroline funny, she didn’t know. A tight little laugh squeezed out of her. Half hiccup, half croak, another followed, and another, and another. Maria joined her. Soon, they were both laughing uncontrollably. Maria was clutching her middle and slapping at Caroline to stop, and Caroline was wiping tears.

  Without warning, the sounds no longer came from Caroline’s belly, but from her chest, turning mournful, sorrowful. Tears of laughter had fallen freely. These tears burned her eyes, leaving hot trails down her face. She cried and cried, for her grandfather, for her parents whom she’d lost so long ago, and for her life that was suddenly out of control.

  Her eyes wet, too, Maria placed a box of tissues on Caroline’s lap. Standing beside her, she held Caroline’s face to her chest, rocking her as she would one of her children. By the time the episode finally passed, Caroline felt depleted, wretched, spent.

  “Do you want me to stay for a while?” Maria asked after Caroline had blown her nose and dried her eyes.

  Caroline appreciated the offer and told Maria so. “Your family is waiting for you at home.”

  Removing her apron and hanging it on a hook inside the basement door, Maria said, “Now you’ll have a family, too.”

  Maria hadn’t so much as considered the possibility that Caroline might choose one of her other options. Perhaps it was Maria’s upbringing. Or perhaps she sensed just how much Caroline wanted this child.

  She wondered if she was the only one who thought it was ironic that her closest confidante was the family housekeeper. And until today, Caroline hadn’t even known the name of Maria’s youngest child.

  “Something is seriously wrong with me and with my life, Maria.”

  “Sometimes things must go wrong before you know what you need to fix. Now you know.”

  With that enormous vote of confidence, Maria left. It was several minutes before Caroline realized something was different.

  She could breathe.

  CHAPTER 2

  On the Saturday following her grandfather’s funeral, Caroline let herself into his stately house in Lake Forest. She’d come for the same reason she’d done it yesterday and the day before. She needed to prove he was truly gone.