Jacqui frowned. “You know that’s not nearly enough information, Alice. Who would you be playing with and who would be driving you home?”
“Just some of the kids,” Alice answered vaguely. “And Milo would bring me home. He’s almost eighteen, and he has a driver’s license and a car.”
“Sorry. No.”
“It’s okay, Jacqui. His brother is one of Uncle Mitch’s best friends. So it’s not like he’s a stranger.”
Behind Alice’s back, Keira looked studiously at the action on the field, pretending not to pay attention. Yet Jacqui saw the other woman shake her head slightly in response to Alice’s argument, as if offering silent advice. Advice Jacqui hadn’t actually needed.
“No, Alice. You aren’t riding with a boy that neither your parents nor I have met.”
“But Jacqui—”
“If you really want to play miniature golf with your friends, I’ll come along. I can wait until you finish your game, then drive you home.”
Alice wasn’t satisfied with what Jacqui considered to be a rather magnanimous offer. “They’ll all think I need a babysitter. What if Uncle Mitch says it’s okay? I mean, Milo is his friend’s brother, so Mitch would probably agree.”
Jacqui glanced across the park to where Milo lounged against a tree, watching Alice with a look Jacqui didn’t care for at all. “Your father left me in charge of you, not your uncle. And my answer is no. Either I accompany you to the miniature golf course and drive you home afterward, or you can stay here with me until the end of the soccer game. Or we can leave now—your choice.”
There must have been a note of steel in her voice that Alice had never heard before. Alice blinked a few times, seemed to realize it would do her no good to argue further, then poked out her lower lip in a near-pout. “Fine. I’ll just tell my new friends I can’t go with them.”
“It’s your choice,” Jacqui replied evenly. “You can make me the bad guy if you want, or you can tell them we have other plans if you want to save face.”
Her expression supremely martyred, Alice turned on one heel and walked away, her posture expressing her dissatisfaction. Jacqui let out a low breath. In the just more than a year that she’d been charged with the responsibility of looking after Alice when her dad wasn’t around, this was the first time the girl had even come close to a rebellion against Jacqui’s authority. Alice had always been cheery, well-behaved, cooperative, eager—in other words, almost the perfect young teen in Jacqui’s opinion. Sure, there had been some minor disagreements in the past year but not quite to this extent. And not with such high stakes, as far as Jacqui was concerned.
She had no intention of allowing Alice to get involved with a boy—much less an eighteen-year-old boy—while her parents were out of town. If it were up to Jacqui, it would be a couple of years yet before Alice was allowed to ride in cars with teenagers behind the wheel. Knowing Seth, she suspected he would agree with her on that point. If he’d had the same grim experiences as Jacqui, he would probably never let his daughter in the car with another teen, she thought darkly.
The soccer game must have ended during the confrontation. When she glanced at the field, the players were milling among each other, shaking hands and chatting amicably. Jacqui had no idea who’d won. She recapped her water bottle and slid it into the insulated tote, then folded her knitting and tucked it into its bag.
A towel draped around his neck, his hair and new clothes damp with sweat, Mitch walked toward her a few minutes later. He nodded toward Keira, who was gathering her things in preparation to join her fiancé, then smiled at Jacqui.
“Did you see me make that last goal? The winning one?”
Because he sounded so much like a kid hoping for a pat of approval, Jacqui hated to have to shake her head. “I’m sorry, I missed it. I guess I was talking to Alice. But congratulations.”
Was there just a touch of disappointment in his voice when he responded? “Thanks. Where is Alice anyway?”
Jacqui waved a hand in the girl’s direction. Following the gesture, Mitch looked that way, then frowned. “Is that Milo Lemon she’s talking to?”
“So I was told.”
“Yeah, not going to happen.” He placed two fingers in his mouth and blew out a shrill whistle that carried over the noise of the slowly dispersing crowd. When Alice looked his way, he motioned for her to join them.
Even from where she stood, Jacqui saw Alice’s reaction, but then the girl said something to Milo and the other girls and headed in their direction.
“Huh. I think I just got a teenage roll of the eyes,” Mitch commented dryly.
“I know you did,” Jacqui said, her own tone wryly empathetic.
“Think Uncle Mitch’s whistle embarrassed her?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. She’s just in a teen mood today apparently. I’ve been the recipient of some of the attitude myself.”
“And here I was hoping that sweet little Alice would just skip that moody, hormonal teen stage and go straight into responsible adulthood.”
Jacqui laughed shortly. “Hold on to that dream, pal.”
Both of them pasted on quick smiles when Alice joined them.