"I'm a lucky woman."
"Yes, you are."
Angela nudged her milk away and fished a roll of antacid tablets from her pocket. Absently she thumbed one free and popped it in her mouth. "But it wasn't all luck. I've worked hard."
Ah, finally the other shoe drops. She'd wondered when Angela would weave in her bid for a new daughter-in-law. "Of course you have. Relationships are work."
More than even she could tackle. She'd worked like crazy to earn Gray's love a year ago, just as she'd worked to gain her parents' attention, and it still hadn't changed a thing. Of course she knew him better now. Should she have worked harder to understand him then rather than simply judging?
Angela rolled the pack of tablets between her fingers as she stared out over her family. "There were times I wasn't sure we could hold it all together, but we did. I'm very proud of that."
Gray launched into the air, catching the football. Ball tucked to his chest, he snagged Magda under the other arm. He ran, the little girl squealing as her bandanna-covered head bobbed with each jostling step. His powerful legs pumped, those khaki shorts leaving too much muscled thigh in view for any normal woman to ignore. Lori's emotions were anything but normal around Gray.
Draining another swallow of milk, Angela waved to her older son as he sprinted past. Her hand fell to her lap. "I'm going to miss having him close."
Me, too. They'd been apart for a year, yet she'd taken a strange comfort in knowing she might run into him, could drop in if the crazy notion took hold. Which it had. She'd almost caved more than once.
Angela stuffed the antacid roll in her pocket. "You do know you've gotten closer to Grayson than anyone else ever has. Probably closer than he's let even his own family get."
Lori fidgeted on the suddenly uncomfortable wooden swing. "I'm not sure we should be—"
"Why not?" Gray's mother raised her hands and leaned back. "I realize we don't know each other well, but time's running out. Consider it one last desperate measure from a concerned mama."
While Lori wanted to be resentful of the intrusion, she understood motherly concerns better every day. Parenting brought a host of worries with all those blessings, and she wouldn't trade a moment of it. She'd just never expected to tackle it alone.
An ache lodged firmly in her stomach, and she eyed the glass of milk with longing. "How did you do it, Angela?"
"Do what, dear?"
"Send Dave off to work every day not knowing if he would come home, and if he did what kind of shape would he be in?"
"He wouldn't have given it up for me." The older woman turned away, her head gravitating toward the solitary man walking along the shore. "And I never asked him to."
"You're a good wife." Better than I could be.
"No, I'm a very greedy one. You asked me a question, and you deserve an honest answer. How did I do it? It was better than the alternative. Not having him at all. I faced that for four god-awful years." Angela paused for a steadying breath. "I'll take what I can have of him."
What could Lori say to that? Not a darn thing.
Angela gripped the armrests and eased to her feet. Her hands whipped wrinkles from her cotton day dress. "Time for a drink check before everyone dehydrates."
"I'll help."
"No need, dear. You sit tight and relax. I'll be right back." Angela turned the power of her smile on Lori, almost covering the concern in her eyes.
Gray thought he was so much like his father. Why couldn't he see he had bits of his mother in him, as well? He had her smile covering an iron will.
And that stubborn fool had just scored another touchdown. His uninhibited victory dance tripped right over Lori's already tender emotions.
He'd broken her heart once. He was well on his way to doing it again. How she wished she were like Angela, able to take what she could before he finished her off once and for all.
Gray had offered half measures, living together, accept whatever the future held. She'd existed that way her entire childhood, with an unsure future, holding second place to her parents' jobs. She wanted better for herself—and for Magda, because she wouldn't be able to let that little girl go. Ever. No more foster parenting. Lori wanted to file for adoption. Magda was her daughter.
Lori's gaze strayed unerringly toward two bandanna-clad heads. Why did Gray have to look so very much like Magda's father?
Lori stilled the swing and watched Angela speak to Gray before she joined her husband. Clasping Dave's hand in hers, she tipped her face up to him. Love glimmered from her like the sun glinting off the lightly cresting waves.
God, she wanted that for herself, just once. Her gaze gravitated back to Gray, and she couldn't stop from wanting it with him. Hadn't Angela said there were times to just take whatever she could from life?