The Moment of Truth

What time later?

He hadn’t asked her for anything. Hadn’t contacted her at all. She’d come to him. Which meant that he was supposed to do this. Right? For her.

Nine.

Dinner was at six. He could easily be home by then. And he could talk to her about finding a puppy for Amy. Or about anything else she wanted to talk about. She wanted to see him, and his new life was about doing things for other people rather than for himself.

My place or yours?

She was being kind of pushy. Josh grinned.

You pick.

I’ll come there.

Far more pleased than he should have been, Josh picked up his pup and headed out to the SUV, eager to eat and get back home again.

* * *

DANA LIKED MARK and Addy on sight. Almost as much as she liked Lillie and Jon and Abraham. But her favorite that Saturday night was Nonnie. The tiny, wheelchair-bound woman had claimed Dana as her date, and within thirty seconds of her arrival, Dana felt like one of the family.

Lindy and Harrison rolled around and pounced and slept happily in Lillie’s gated-off kitchen. Abraham charmed everyone.

The evening would have been nearly perfect—if she’d been able to stop staring at Abraham and wondering what it would be like to have a two-year-old of her own. And still be in school. Panic was new to her and she didn’t wear it well.

“What’s eatin’ ya?” Nonnie leaned over to ask while the two couples conferred over the grill in the backyard, trying to determine if the steaks were done to perfection, or merely done.

“I’m fine, why?”

“You ain’t fine, but I know to mind my own business. You come find me when you’re ready to talk.”

Dana didn’t even know the woman but heard herself promising that she’d do just that. And then pulled out her smartphone to add Nonnie’s address and cell phone number to her contact list.

She watched the clock all through dinner, in between watching Abraham. Mark and Jon kept up a running repartee, but Dana couldn’t get her mind to focus on their humorous attempts to one-up each other.

Lillie sidled up to her as Dana helped her carry the dishes into the kitchen after everyone had finished eating. “You okay?” the other woman asked.

“Of course. I’m fine.” She was fine. Healthy. Able. Lucky, really.

“You seem off.”

“I just...” She wanted to talk to Lillie in the worst way. But her problems weren’t just her own. “I...slept with...someone...and I wish I hadn’t.” Not quite the truth, either, and yet, in tonight’s context it was.

“You’re allowed to make mistakes, you know,” Lillie said softly, her gaze compassionate.

No, she wasn’t. She had to be perfect in every way.

Abraham started to fuss and Lillie turned her head sharply in the little boy’s direction, as Dana reflected on the thought that had just popped into her mind.

She had to be perfect....

“He’s tired,” Lillie said as Abraham came toward them rubbing his eyes. Setting down the dishes in her hands to reach for the little boy, Lillie continued, “You have my cell number. Call me tomorrow.”

Nodding, Dana busied herself with washing the dishes while she reeled in her thoughts. She didn’t have to be perfect anymore. She wasn’t back in Indiana, in a family where she didn’t fit. In Shelter Valley her existence wasn’t a mistake.

By eight-thirty, when she couldn’t sit still any longer, Dana excused herself.

“We’re teaching Addy and Lillie how to play five-card stud,” Jon said to her. “I remember hearing you were pretty good at it.”

She’d mentioned the game in math class one day, in response to a question the professor had asked. It had had to do with a calculus problem.

“I wouldn’t want your wives to see me whup the two of you,” she said with a grin, tucking Lindy Lu under her arm. Truth was, she’d be the loser at any game she attempted to play right then.

She’d been struck with a complete inability to concentrate—an inability that was increasing with every minute that passed.

If she wasn’t careful she was going to burst into tears.

Calm. She just had to stay calm.

To put one foot in front of the other.

She knew two things for sure. She was going to get through this.

And tears wouldn’t change anything.

* * *

SHE’D BEEN THERE fifteen minutes and Josh wasn’t nearly as happy as he had been when he’d opened the door to her.

Something was different about her.

He’d told Dana about Ian and Amy, about the dinner he’d had at his work associate’s home and asked her if she’d be willing to find a rescue dog for them.