“Nah. I’m planning on cleaning out my tackle box tonight. Hey, what do you say you and I take that boy fishing sometime? A boy his age should know how to bait a hook and cast a line.”
Riley wasn’t surprised by the suggestion. He’d known from the moment Mark had admitted he’d never been fishing that Bud would feel the need to remedy the situation. As for himself, he didn’t want to become involved in Mark’s daily life, but he wouldn’t mind taking the boy fishing. Especially if it put a gleam of interest in Bud’s eyes again.
Would Teresa consider it breaking her rules if Riley and Bud took her son fishing? He’d better let Bud do the inviting when the time came.
A few minutes later, Bud was gone. Riley was left alone in his apartment, still disturbed by his uncle’s odd mood, still smarting from Teresa’s prim little speech. He found himself listening for noises from his new neighbors. There was the occasional thump or thud, but no more noise than there had been the last time the apartment had been occupied. As he’d boasted, the walls were well soundproofed.
He glanced at his watch. It was still relatively early in the evening. There was nothing of particular interest on TV, so he might as well get some work done. He could write another column for the paper, or a few more pages of his novel. Back to his usual routine—one he enjoyed, he assured himself with a touch of defiance. Total freedom to do what he wanted, when he wanted.
Sure it was a selfish existence—and he made no bones about it. Nor did he have any interest in changing it.
Because he suddenly found himself imagining what that same routine might be like forty years from now, he pushed thoughts of the future forcefully out of his mind and sat down at his computer, determined to enjoy what was left of his solitary evening.
Nearly two weeks later, on a Friday evening, Teresa and her children were guests in Serena and Cameron’s home for dinner. Marjorie joined them from the guest house she had moved into when Serena and Cameron married. Conversation was lively during the meal. Mark and Maggie, encouraged to participate, chatted about school and their friends. After dinner, Cameron took them into the den to play video games, leaving the women to gossip over coffee around the kitchen table.
“Cameron loves having someone to play video games with him,” Serena commented with an indulgent smile. “Sometimes Dan and Riley come over to play, and they all act like kids with a cool new toy.”
“He’ll be such a wonderful father,” Marjorie said, her expression misty.
“Or a terrific big brother,” Serena murmured before taking a sip of her decaffeinated coffee.
Teresa gazed into her cup to hide the regret that was probably reflected in her eyes. She had thought her late husband would be a good father—and he had tried. He just hadn’t been able to follow through on all his good intentions. He had died before he could keep the latest promises he’d made to her and their children.
From what Serena had told her, Teresa knew Cameron had spent years avoiding commitment, telling himself he wasn’t the marrying kind. Coming from an unhappy, occasionally abusive home, he’d had few examples of loving, lifelong relationships. Falling in love with Serena had changed him. Taught him to believe in happily-ever-after endings. And he was willing to work very hard to ensure that blissful outcome.
That was the key, she thought wistfully. Realistically anticipating difficulties. Being committed to deal with them when they occurred. Being willing to put the welfare of the family above everything else.
Maybe Darren would have gotten to that point—eventually. But she doubted it. Believing he would change had been a mistake both
of them had made.
“Terry? Are you all right?”
Teresa forced a smile in response to Marjorie’s inquiry. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
“You’re working so hard at the diner,” her employer fretted. “You really should take more breaks, you know. Shameka and Justine and I can handle things during slow spells, just as you fill in for us when we take breaks.”
“I’m hardly overworked. I only put in seven hours a day, five days a week.”
“At the diner,” Marjorie agreed. “Then you leave to do the shopping and laundry and housekeeping and cooking for yourself and two young children. You don’t have one full-time job, you have half a dozen. No wonder you’re tired.”
Teresa waved a hand dismissively. “Taking care of the kids isn’t a chore—it’s my greatest pleasure. Actually, the main reason I’m tired this evening is that I foolishly sat up half the night reading. I started a new romantic suspense novel when the kids went to bed and I just couldn’t put it down.”
Both Marjorie and Serena nodded sympathetically, looking as though they had experience with losing sleep because of a good book.
“At least you can sleep in tomorrow morning,” Serena said.
Teresa laughed. “You don’t know my kids. I have to practically drag them out of bed on school days, but Saturdays they’re up at the crack of dawn to sit on the floor and eat cereal and watch cartoons. It’s the only time I allow them to eat in front of the television.”
“The children seem to have adapted well to their new home,” Marjorie commented.
“They love it there. There are several children their ages in the neighborhood and that nice playground only a couple of blocks away. We’ve already spent two afternoons there, since the weather’s been so nice lately.”
“It’s hard to believe it’s the middle of October again already.” Marjorie glanced toward the window as she spoke, as if to confirm that the seasons were, indeed, passing. “Things have changed so much in the past year or so. Serena and Cameron just celebrated their first wedding anniversary, and now they’re expecting a baby. Kara and Pierce are making wedding plans, and Pierce seems well on his way to success in the music business. Dan and Lindsey are married—something few people would have predicted this time last year. And now you and Mark and Maggie are a part of our community.”
“The past year seems to have brought changes for everyone,” Serena agreed. “Except Riley, of course. Riley never changes. He’s still working on that novel no one’s ever seen, still putting in just enough hours at the paper to keep his job, still keeping the local powers-that-be from getting too carried away with their self-importance.”
Teresa couldn’t imagine why hearing Riley’s name made her cheeks warm. It was exasperating that the mention of him rattled her so much—a particularly inconvenient condition considering she lived right next door to him and mingled with his friends. Not that she had seen him much since she’d moved in. If she hadn’t known better, she might have suspected he was avoiding her.