The Sleeping Doll (Kathryn Dance 1)

Then she asked another impulsive question. "Don't you like Winston?"

"He's okay."

"You can tell me." Her own interest in food was flagging.

"I don't know. . . . He's not like Michael."

"No, he's not. But there aren't many people like Michael." The dear friend who isn't returning my calls at the moment. "That doesn't mean I can't have dinner with them, does it?"

"I guess."

They ate for a few minutes. Then Wes blurted, "Maggie doesn't like him either."

"I didn't say that! Don't say things I didn't say."

"Yeah, you did. You said he's got a potbelly."

"Did not!" Though her blush told Dance t

hat she had.

She smiled, put down her fork. "Hey, you two, listen up. Whether I have dinner with somebody or not, or even go out to the movies with them, nothing's going to change us. Our house, the dogs, our lives. Nothing. That's a promise. Okay?"

"Okay," Wes said. It was a bit knee-jerk, but he didn't seem completely unconvinced.

But now Maggie was troubled. "Aren't you ever going to get married again?"

"Mags, what brought that up?"

"Just wondering."

"I can't even imagine getting married again."

"You didn't say no," Wes muttered.

Dance laughed at the interrogator's perfect response. "Well, that's my answer. I can't even imagine it."

"I want to be best woman," Maggie said.

"Maid of honor," Dance corrected.

"No, I saw this after-school special. They do it different now."

"Differently," her mother corrected again. "But let's not get distracted. We've got pancakes and iced tea to polish off. And plans to make for Sunday. You've got to do some thinking."

"I will." Wes seemed reassured.

Dance ate the rest of her dinner, feeling elated at this victory: being honest with her son and receiving his acquiescence to the date. Oddly, this tiny step did a huge amount to take away the horror of the day's events.

On a whim she gave in to Maggie's final plea on behalf of the dogs and ordered one pancake and a side of sausage for each, minus the syrup. The girl served the food in the back of the Pathfinder. Dylan the shepherd devoured his in several gulps while the ladylike Patsy ate the sausage fastidiously, then carried the pancake to a space between the backseats, impossible to reach, and deposited it there for a rainy day.

*

At home, Dance spent the next few hours at domestic chores, fielding phone calls, including one from Morton Nagle, thanking her again for what she'd done for his family.

Winston Kellogg did not call, which was good (meaning the date was still on).

Michael O'Neil did not call either, which wasn't so good.