Gathering her fortitude, Robin seized the receiver and said firmly, “I’m not interested in dating Frank. I don’t want to be rude, but that’s final!”
Her abrupt words were followed by a brief shocked silence, and then, “Robin, hello, this is Cole Camden.”
“Cole,” she gasped, closing her eyes. “Uh, I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else. A friend.” She slumped against the wall and covered her face with one hand. “I have this friend who’s always trying to arrange dates for me, and she doesn’t take no for an answer,” Robin quickly explained. “I suppose you have friends wanting to arrange dates for you, too.”
“Actually, I don’t.”
Of course he didn’t. No doubt there were women all over San Francisco who longed to go out with Cole. He didn’t require a personal matchmaker. All someone like him had to do was look interested and women would flock to his side.
Her hand tightened around the receiver and a sick weightless feeling attacked the pit of her stomach. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to shout in your ear.”
“You didn’t.”
“I suppose you called to talk to Jeff,” she said. “He’s with Blackie and Kelly—Kelly Lawrence, the little girl who lives on the other side of us.”
“I see.”
“He’ll be back in a few minutes, if you’d like to call then. Or if you prefer, I could run and get him, but he said something about sneaking out and going for help and—”
“I beg your pardon? What’s Jeff doing?”
“Oh, they’re playing in the fort, pretending they’re Houston and Daniel Boone. The fort is now the Alamo.”
He chuckled. “I see. No, don’t worry about chasing after him. I’d hate to see you waylaid by the Mexican army.”
“I don’t think I’d care for that myself.”
“How’s everything going?”
“Fine,” she assured him.
She must have sounded rushed because he said, “You’re sure this isn’t a bad time? If you have company…”
“No, I’m here alone.”
Another short silence, which was broken by Cole. “So everything’s okay with Blackie? He isn’t causing you any problems, is he?”
“Oh, no, everything’s great. Jeff lavishes him with attention. The two of them are together practically every minute. Blackie even sleeps beside his bed.”
“As you said, Jeff has a way with animals,” Cole murmured.
His laugh, so tender and warm, was enough to jolt her. She had to pinch herself to remember that Cole was a prominent attorney, wealthy and respected. She was an accountant. A junior accountant at that.
The only thing they had in common was the fact that they lived next door to each other and her son was crazy about his dog.
The silence returned, only this time it had a relaxed, almost comfortable quality, as though neither wanted the conversation to end.
“Since Jeff isn’t around,” Cole said reluctantly, “I’ll let you go.”
“I’ll tell him you phoned.”
“It wasn’t anything important,” Cole said. “Just wanted to let you know when I’ll be back—late Friday afternoon. Will you be home?”
“Of course.”
“You never know, your friend might talk you into going out with Fred after all.”
“It’s Frank, and there isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell.”
“Famous last words!”
“See you Friday,” she said with a short laugh.
“Right. Goodbye, Robin.”
“Goodbye, Cole.”
Long after the call had ended, Robin stood with her hand on the receiver, a smile touching her eyes and her heart.
“Mom, I need my lunch money,” Jeff yelled from the bottom of the stairs.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” she said. Mornings were hectic. In order to get to the Glen Park BART station on time, Robin had to leave the house half an hour before Jeff left for school.
“What did you have for breakfast?” she hollered as she put the finishing touches on her makeup.
“Frozen waffles,” Jeff shouted back. “And don’t worry, I didn’t drown them in syrup and I rinsed off the plate before I put it in the dishwasher.”
“Rinsed it off or let Blackie lick it for you?” she asked, as she hurried down the stairs. Her son was busy at the sink and didn’t turn around to look at her.
“Blackie, honestly, is that maple syrup on your nose?”
At the sound of his name, the Labrador trotted over to her. Robin took a moment to stroke his thick fur before fumbling for her wallet to give Jeff his lunch money.
“Hey, Mom, you look nice.”
“Don’t act so surprised,” she grumbled. “I’m leaving now.”
“Okay,” Jeff said without the slightest bit of concern. “You won’t be late tonight, will you? Remember Mr. Camden’s coming back.”
“I remember, and no, I won’t be late.” She grabbed her purse and her packed lunch, putting it in her briefcase, and headed for the front door.
Even before Robin arrived at the subway station, she knew the day would drag. Fridays always did.
She was right. At six, when the subway pulled into the station, Robin felt as though she’d been away forty hours instead of the usual nine. She found herself hurrying and didn’t fully understand why. Cole was scheduled to return, but that didn’t have anything to do with her, did it? His homecoming wasn’t anything to feel nervous about, nor any reason to be pleased. He was her neighbor, and more Jeff’s friend than hers.
The first thing Robin noticed when she arrived on Orchard Street was Cole’s Porsche parked in the driveway of his house.
“Hi, Mom,” Jeff called as he raced across the lawn between the two houses. “Mr. Camden’s back!”
“So I see.” She removed her keys from her purse and opened the front door.
Jeff followed her inside. “He said he’d square up with me later. I wanted to invite him to dinner, but I didn’t think I should without asking you first.”
“That was smart,” she said, depositing her jacket in the closet on her way to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and took out the thawed hamburger and salad makings.
“How was your day?” she asked.
Jeff sat down at the table and propped his elbows on it. “All right, I guess. What are you making for dinner?”
“Taco salad.”
“How about just tacos? I don’t get why you want to ruin a perfectly good dinner by putting green stuff in it.”
Robin paused. “I thought you liked my taco salad.”
Jeff shrugged. “It’s all right, but I’d rather have just tacos.” Once that was made clear, he cupped his chin in his hands. “Can we rent a movie tonight?”
“I suppose,” Robin returned absently as she added the meat to the onions browning in the skillet.
“But I get to choose this time,” Jeff insisted. “Last week you picked a musical.” He wrinkled his nose as if to suggest that being forced to watch men and women sing and dance was the most disgusting thing he’d ever had to endure.
“Perhaps we can find a compromise,” she said.
Jeff nodded. “As long as it doesn’t have a silly love story in it.”
“Okay,” Robin said, doing her best not to betray her amusement. Their difference in taste when it came to movies was legendary. Jeff’s favorite was an older kids’ film, Scooby Doo, that he watched over and over, which Robin found boring, to say the least. Unfortunately, her son was equally put off by the sight of men and women staring longingly into each other’s eyes.
The meat was simmering in the skillet when Robin glanced up and noted that her son was looking surprisingly thoughtful. “Is something troubling you?” she asked, and popped a thin tomato slice into her mouth.
“Have you ever noticed that Mr. Camden never mentions he had a son?”
Robin set the paring knife on the cutting board. “It’s probably painful for him to talk about.”
Jeff nod
ded, and, with the innocent wisdom of youth, he whispered, “That man needs someone.”
The meal was finished, and Robin was standing in front of the sink rinsing off the dinner plates when the doorbell rang. Robin knew it had to be Cole.
“I’ll get it,” Jeff cried as he raced past her at breakneck speed. He threw open the door. “Hi, Mr. Camden!” he said eagerly.
By this time Robin had smoothed her peach-colored sweater over her hips and placed a friendly—but not too friendly—smile on her face. At the last second, she ran her fingers through her hair, striving for the casual I-didn’t-go-to-any-trouble look, then wondered at her irrational behavior. Cole wasn’t coming over to see her.
Robin could hear Jeff chatting away at ninety miles an hour, telling Cole they were renting a movie and how Robin insisted that every show he saw had to have the proper rating, which he claimed was totally ridiculous. He went on to explain that she considered choosing the film a mother’s job and apparently a mere kid didn’t have rights. When there was a pause in the conversation, she could envision Jeff rolling his eyes dramatically.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the entryway and smiled. “Hello, Cole.”
“Robin.”
Their eyes met instantly. Robin’s first coherent thought was that a woman could get lost in eyes that dark and not even care. She swallowed and lowered her gaze.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked, having difficulty dragging the words out of her mouth.
“If it isn’t too much trouble.”
“It isn’t.” Or it wouldn’t be if she could stop her heart from pounding so furiously.
“Where’s Blackie?” Jeff asked, opening the screen door and glancing outside.
“I didn’t bring him over. I thought you’d be tired of him by now.”
“Tired of Blackie?” Jeff cried. “You’ve got to be kidding!”
“I guess I should’ve known better,” Cole teased.
Robin returned to the kitchen and took mugs from the cupboard, using these few minutes to compose herself.
The screen door slammed, and a moment later Cole appeared in her kitchen. “Jeff went to my house to get Blackie.”
She smiled and nodded. “Do you take cream or sugar?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Just black, thanks.”
Robin normally drank hers the same way. But for some reason she couldn’t begin to fathom, she added a generous teaspoonful of sugar to her own, stirring briskly as though she feared it wouldn’t dissolve.
“I hope your trip went well,” she said, carrying both mugs into the family room, where Cole had chosen to sit.
“Very well.”
“Good.” She sat a safe distance from him, across the room in a wooden rocker, and balanced her mug on her knee. “Everything around here went without a hitch, but I’m afraid Jeff may have spoiled Blackie a bit.”
“From what he said, they did everything but attend school together.”
“Having the dog has been wonderful for him. I appreciate your giving Jeff this opportunity. Not only does it satisfy his need for a dog, but it’s taught him about responsibility.”
The front door opened and the canine subject of their conversation shot into the room, followed by Jeff, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Mom, could Mr. Camden stay and watch the movie with us?”
“Ah…” Caught off guard, Robin didn’t know what to say. After being away from home for several days, watching a movie with his neighbors probably held a low position on Cole’s list of priorities.
To Robin’s astonishment, Cole’s eyes searched hers as though seeking her approval.
“You’d be welcome…I mean, you can stay if you’d like, unless…unless there’s something else you’d rather do,” she stammered. “I mean, I’d…we’d like it if you did, but…” She let whatever else she might have said fade away. She was making a mess of this, and every time she tried to smooth it over, she only stuck her foot further down her throat.
“What movie did you rent?”
“We haven’t yet,” Jeff explained. “Mom and me had to come to an understanding first. She likes mushy stuff and gets all bent out of shape if there’s an explosion or anything. You wouldn’t believe the love story she made me watch last Friday night.” His voice dripped with renewed disgust.
“How about if you and I go rent the movie while your mother and Blackie make the popcorn?”
Jeff’s blue eyes brightened immediately. “That’d be great, wouldn’t it, Mom?”
“Sure,” she agreed, and was rewarded by Jeff’s smile.
Jeff and Cole left a few minutes later. It was on the tip of her tongue to give Cole instructions on the type of movie appropriate for a ten-year-old boy, but she swallowed her concerns, willing to trust his judgment. Standing on the porch, she watched as they climbed inside Cole’s expensive sports car. She pressed her hand to her throat, grateful when Cole leaned over the front seat and snapped Jeff’s seat belt snugly in place. Suddenly Cole looked at her; she raised her hand in farewell, and he did the same. It was a simple gesture, yet Robin felt as if they’d communicated so much more.
“Come on, Blackie,” Robin said, “let’s go start the popcorn.” The Lab trailed behind her as she returned to the kitchen. She placed a packet of popcorn in the microwave. It was while she was waiting for the kernels to start popping that the words slipped from her mouth.
“Well, Lenny, what do you think?” Talking to her dead husband came without conscious thought. It certainly wasn’t that she expected him to answer. Whenever she spoke to him, the words came spontaneously from the deep well of love they’d once shared. She supposed she should feel foolish doing it, but so many times over the long years since his death she’d felt his presence. Robin assumed that the reason she talked to him came from her need to discuss things with the one other person who’d loved her son as much as she did. In the beginning she was sure she needed to visit a psychiatrist or arrange for grief counseling, but later she convinced herself that every widow went through this in one form or another.
“He’s grown so much in the past year, hasn’t he?” she asked, and smiled. “Meeting Cole has been good for Jeff. He lost a child, you know, and I suppose having Jeff move in next door answers a need for him, too.”
About ten minutes later, she’d transferred the popcorn to a bowl and set out drinks. Jeff and Cole came back with a movie that turned out to be an excellent compromise—a teen comedy that was surprisingly witty and entertaining.
Jeff sprawled on the carpet munching popcorn with Blackie by his side. Cole sat on the sofa and Robin chose the rocking chair. She removed her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her. She was enjoying the movie; in fact, several times she found herself laughing out loud.
Cole and Jeff laughed, too. The sounds were contrasting—one deep and masculine, the other young and pleasantly boyish—yet they harmonized, blending with perfect naturalness.
Soon Robin found herself watching Jeff and Cole more than the movie. The two…no, the three of them had grown comfortable together. Robin didn’t try to read any significance into that. Doing so could prove emotionally dangerous, but the thought flew into her mind and refused to leave.
The credits were rolling when Cole pointed to Jeff, whose head was resting on his arms, his eyes closed.
“He’s asleep,” Cole said softly.
Robin smiled and nodded. She got up to bring the empty popcorn bowl into the kitchen. Cole stood, too, taking their glasses to the sink, then returned to the family room to remove the DVD.
“Do you want me to carry him upstairs for you?” he asked, glancing down at the slumbering Jeff.
“No,” she whispered. “When he wakes up in the morning, he’ll think you treated him like a little kid. Egos are fragile at ten.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
The silence seemed to resound. Without Jeff, awake and chattering, as a buffer between them, Robin felt clumsy and self-conscious around Cole.
<
br /> “It was nice of you to stay,” she said, more to fill the silence than because she had anything important to communicate. “It meant a lot to Jeff.”
Jeff had told her Cole had an active social life. Heather Lawrence had confirmed it by casually letting it drop that Cole was often away on weekends. Robin wasn’t entirely sure what to think about it all. But if there was a woman in his life, that was his business, not hers.
“It meant a lot to me, too,” he said, returning the DVD to its case.
The kitchen and family room, actually quite spacious, felt close and intimate with Cole standing only a few feet away.
Robin’s fingers were shaking as she placed the bowls and soda glasses in the dishwasher. She tried to come up with some bright and witty comment, but her mind was blank.
“I should be going.”
Was that reluctance she heard in his voice? Somehow Robin doubted it; probably wishful thinking on her part. Half of her wanted to push him out the door and the other half didn’t want him to leave at all. But there really wasn’t any reason for him to stay. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
“Blackie.” Cole called for his dog. “It’s time to go.”
The Lab didn’t look pleased. He took his own sweet time lumbering to his feet and stretching before trotting to Cole’s side.
Robin was about to open the door when she realized she hadn’t thanked Cole for getting the movie. She turned, and his dark eyes delved into hers. Whatever thoughts had been taking shape fled like leaves scattering in the wind. She tried to smile, however weakly, but it was difficult when he was looking at her so intently. His gaze slipped to her mouth, and in a nervous movement, she moistened her lips. Before she was fully aware of how it had happened, Cole’s fingers were in her hair and he was urging her mouth to meet his.
His eyes held hers, as if he expected her to stop him, then they slowly closed and their lips touched. Robin’s eyes drifted shut, but that was the only response she made.