The Parent Trap
Lee McKenzie
The trap is set… Single mom and successful boutique owner Sarah Stewart didn't have room in her life for a pet, let alone a man. With a teenage girl to raise and a business to run, she couldn't do anything more than look at Jonathan Marshall, the single–and singularly good-looking–man who just moved in next door with a teenage daughter of his own. Still, since their girls would be classmates, it made sense to make friends. But that was as far as it could go. Despite the best efforts of some teenage matchmaking, Sarah wasn't giving in. Because she just isn't ready to put her heart on the line–again.
The trap is set…
Single mom and successful boutique owner Sarah Stewart didn’t have room in her life for a pet, let alone a man. With a teenage girl to raise and a business to run, she couldn’t do anything more than look at Jonathan Marshall, the single—and singularly good-looking—man who just moved in next door with a teenage daughter of his own. Still, since their girls would be classmates, it made sense to make friends. But that was as far as it could go. Despite the best efforts of some teenage matchmaking, Sarah wasn’t giving in. Because she just isn’t ready to put her heart on the line—again.
“I’d say they’ve turned into a pair of matchmakers.”
“I think you’re right,” Sarah replied.
“It’s not the worst idea.” It was definitely better than trolling for a fake wife online.
“It’s a terrible idea! We hardly know each other. You really don’t know me at all if you believe I would go into court and lie to a judge.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of it being the truth,” Jonathan said.
“Oh, please. We just met a few weeks ago. You can’t honestly expect me to believe that you think you’re…”
In love with her? He knew he was, and it was stab-a-knife-in-his-heart apparent that the feeling wasn’t mutual.
“And what sort of example would this set for our daughters? We’d be telling them that if they want something badly enough, it’s okay to do whatever it takes to get it.”
If she believed that about him, then she didn’t know him very well, either. “We should go back,” he said.
They made the brisk walk home in stony silence.
Dear Reader (#ulink_e1ecb516-26a3-5117-a94b-75916e829fc2),
Ah, the teen years. Even if you haven’t raised a teenager, I’m sure you remember being one. While writing The Parent Trap, I loved having the opportunity to revisit both. And in case the title brings an old movie to mind, I want you to know that this is not that story!
This “parent trap” involves a single mom and a single dad who happen to live next door to each other and who are each living with the pleasures and pitfalls of raising teenage girls. Throw in a cat, a dog and a collection of other critters, and there’s never a dull moment.
Instead of a story about a family reuniting, this one’s about two families uniting to overcome the challenges life brings and to share the laughter and the joy that comes with falling in love.
I love hearing from readers and am always happy to send out bookmarks and recipe cards, so please feel free to contact me through my website at www.leemckenzie.com (http://www.leemckenzie.com).
Happy reading!
Lee
The Parent Trap
Lee McKenzie
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
LEE McKENZIE
knew she wanted to be a writer from the time she was ten years old and read Anne of Green Gables and Little Women. A writer just like Anne and Jo. In the intervening years, she has written everything from advertising copy to an honors thesis in paleontology, but becoming a four-time Golden Heart finalist and a Harlequin author are among her proudest accomplishments. Lee and her artist/teacher husband live on an island along Canada’s west coast, and she loves to spend time with two of her best friends—her grown-up children.
For Michaela, with love
Contents
Cover (#u3fd7481a-ed8e-567e-8baf-db4182e17069)
Back Cover Text (#u29726095-f219-5f78-afd9-782c35d60307)
Introduction (#ua41f697a-7e3e-53bc-acf7-ba1b96040cdd)
Dear Reader (#u985a994f-244e-51a4-8e49-b22c3ac98e0c)
Title Page (#ucfdd4859-79fe-5e84-a87b-3767e18387f2)
About the Author (#u34125ce5-fedc-5308-b0f1-41efce9fccae)
Dedication (#u59243059-fe91-56af-9241-61eda47191dc)
CHAPTER ONE (#ud3ae94cb-71b3-5bf1-b385-4549ad56abf4)
CHAPTER TWO (#u96ad15ed-ce69-5b8c-b7b6-327aa48ea93c)
CHAPTER THREE (#u0af4f733-42a0-565c-8220-6921181b011e)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u0eaa4447-f3bb-572e-92d9-2286e95eeb6f)
CHAPTER FIVE (#uf26f771c-8676-5de7-94bc-258eeeddccd1)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_d05094d8-364e-5b79-8f86-50ad25978fab)
SPYING ON THE new neighbor was not a good use of her time, but Sarah Stewart had spent most of the morning peeking past the curtain in her office window anyway. At the sound of footsteps pounding up the front porch, she let the curtain fall and hastily took a seat at her desk, giving the mouse a jiggle and bringing a spreadsheet to life.
The screen door banged shut. “Mom? You still home?”
“I’m upstairs, Casey.” Upstairs and appalled at the still-empty columns in her file.
Her daughter thundered up the stairs and burst into her office, eyes bright and blond ponytail swinging. Sarah accepted a hug, holding her sweet girl’s slender, too-tall-for-her-age frame until she squirmed out of the embrace. Her hair was scented with equal parts animal shelter and summer sunshine.
“They gave me six dogs to walk today. Can you believe it? Six!” Casey’s level of excitement would rival any lottery winner.
“That’s wonderful, hon. Everyone at the animal shelter must be very impressed with you.” As they should be, Sarah thought with a mother’s pride. Casey was a great kid, and she was one incredibly lucky mom. “Did they give you any trouble?”
“The people at the shelter?”
Sarah laughed. “No, silly. The dogs.”
“Not a bit. Remember I told you about Petey? The little shih tzu-Maltese cross? It’s so cute to see him walking with the bigger dogs.” Casey perched on the corner of Sarah’s desk, one foot swinging. “Petey’s little legs are going like a mile a minute but he totally keeps up with them, then when we get back to the shelter he has a drink of water, curls up in his kennel and goes right to sleep.”
“I’m sure he’s adorable.”
“Yeah. He is.”
Sarah recognized the wistful tone, having heard it many times, but Casey didn’t need to be reminded that they simply couldn’t have a dog. Letting her volunteer as a dog walker at the Serenity Bay animal shelter had seemed like a good idea. Now Sarah wondered if that had been a mistake because being around all those dogs only made Casey want one even more. Between school starting next week, homework, soccer practice and all the other activities Casey took on, plus all the hours Sarah spent at the store to keep her business running smoothly and profitably, a dog would be left home alone for hours at a stretch. That wouldn’t be fair to a dog, and it got Sarah off the hook.
Besides, Casey had an ever-expanding menagerie in her bedroom, which at last count included two mice in a cage, a lizard in a terrarium, a half dozen fish in a small aquarium and a praying mantis in an enormous glass jar. Not exactly warm and fuzzy, except for the mice, but they didn’t need to be walked and groomed and taught to stay off the furniture.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Casey said. “There’s a moving van next door.”
“Yes, I heard them pull up.” Sarah hoped she appeared nonchalant as she squinted at the numbers on her monitor.
Midmorning, a man and his daughter had pulled their charcoal-gray SUV into the shared driveway that separated Sarah’s house from theirs. Since then she’d lurked at the window of her second-floor home office, distracted by the clang and thump of a furniture dolly as two men clad in navy blue overalls rolled furniture and stacks of boxes down the ramp and onto the front porch of the house, which had sat silent and empty for the past month and a half.
Not that she would ever admit her mild neuroses to another living soul, but she had worried about this day ever since the empty-nesters who had lived there retired, set out to fulfill their lifelong dream of traveling the world and found a tenant willing to sign a one-year lease on their home. Bill and Marjorie hadn’t just been good neighbors; they were good friends. Six years ago they’d been there for her and her daughter after her husband died in a car accident and she had struggled to fit the jagged pieces of her life back together.
If Sarah could, she would push the pause button on her current life and keep everything exactly as it was—happy, stable, secure—because if she disliked anything more than change, it was not knowing what that change had in store for her.
The small West Coast community of Serenity Bay had only one real estate company, and Sarah knew the two agents who ran it, so getting a little background information about her new neighbor had been easy. Jonathan Marshall was the new physical education teacher at the high school, a single dad with a teenage daughter. But that didn’t tell her who he really was, nor did it explain why he was a single parent, why his daughter lived with him and not her mother, why they had moved to Serenity Bay.
What she did know, from having surreptitiously watched from her office window, was that Jonathan Marshall’s blue jeans and white T-shirt portrayed a man in the kind of shape his profession would demand. Tall, well built, well proportioned, of course, but he also had an easy rhythm when he walked, a genuine smile for the people around him and a charming way of stabbing both hands through his hair while he made a decision. She was sure it was unconscious on his part, and she wished it wasn’t so completely endearing.
His daughter appeared to be about the same age as Casey, but while Casey was equal parts tomboy and bookworm, that girl could have stepped off the page of a teen fashion magazine. Sarah could spot a designer label from a mile way, and that dad would have easily paid two hundred dollars for his daughter’s skinny jeans. Then there was the bag slung over the girl’s shoulder. There was a chance it was a knockoff, but Sarah would wager a week’s worth of sales that it was the real deal. On a teacher’s salary? That didn’t compute.
Then they disappeared into the house, the man carrying a small pet carrier, the sullen-looking girl straggling behind, empty-handed.
“Have you met them yet?” Casey asked. “Did you take them the cookies we baked last night?”
“No, I thought we’d go over together.” Last night the cookies had seemed the neighborly thing to do. Pillsbury refrigerated cookie dough was one of her specialties, after all. Today the cookies seemed to hint that she was angling for a way to meet Serenity Bay’s newest and most eligible bachelor. Would he think she was being neighborly or out to snare him?
Oh, for heaven’s sake, they’re just cookies. Who cares what he thinks?
Casey slid Sarah’s iPad out of its case and turned it on. “You said he’s a new teacher at SBH, right?”
“That’s right.”
“What’s his name?”
“Oh, um, Jonathan Marshall. I think. Why?”
Her daughter tapped on the screen. “Marshall. One L or two?”
“Probably two. What are you doing?”
“Searching for him online.”
“Casey! You shouldn’t do that. It’s like an invasion of privacy.”
“If it’s on the internet, Mom, it’s not private.”
“That’s true, but it still seems kind of stalkerish.”
“Yep, but everybody does it.” Her daughter grinned widely, angling the device so Sarah could see the screen. “Does this look like him?”
“Oh. Yes, it does.” And she didn’t have to ask the identity of the woman next to him in the photograph. The stunning brunette was Georgette Ogilvie, who last year left her job as news anchor at Vancouver’s top-rated TV station, divorced her husband, and was already remarried and living in Europe. So...Jonathan Marshall was the ex-husband.
“He used to be married to that lady from the TV.” Casey swiped the screen. “And they have a daughter named Kate.”
Sarah stood and glanced out the window in time to see him on the driveway below, opening the back of his SUV and hauling out two potted plants. Thinking that a man who kept houseplants must have something going for him was silly, but she thought it just the same. And he was a teacher, after all, and a parent. Probably a good parent, since he seemed to have custody of his daughter.
“Says here that he used to teach at a high school in West Vancouver and...oh, he coaches soccer. Cool. I wonder if he’ll coach my team.”
“I don’t know, and you can’t very well ask him.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’ll wonder how you found out he’s a coach.”
Casey flashed another grin. “Good point. I’ll have to be more subtle.”
The thought of her daughter being anything other than direct had Sarah smiling as she turned back to her desk, organized the invoices and bank statements that still hadn’t been entered into her accounting program, and tucked them into her briefcase. She would have to take them to the store and hope to carve some time out of a busy afternoon to process them. Otherwise she’d have to put in an extra hour or two tonight.
“I’ll run downstairs and see what we have for lunch, then I have to get to the shop. Juliet’s on her own this morning and she’ll need a break. What would you like?”
“What’ve we got?”
Not much. “Grilled cheese sandwiches?”
Casey shook her head. “Nuh-uh. I threw out the bread at breakfast.” She scrunched her nose. “Moldy.”
Gross. “Then I guess that leaves us with a can of chicken noodle soup and crackers. I’ll grab a few groceries on my way home.” For the millionth time, she wondered how every area of her life was so well organized and yet her culinary skills were nonexistent.
“It’s pizza and movie night. One pepperoni and one ham and pineapple.” Casey shoved the iPad back into its sleeve and peeled off her sweatshirt. “I need to have a shower. I’m covered with doggy slobber and kitty litter. They were shorthanded this morning so I helped clean out the kennels after I brought the dogs back.”
“Pizza it is.” She really is a good kid, Sarah thought, making a mental note of the request while thinking she should also bring home something a little more nutritious. As long as she didn’t have to cook it.
“Speaking of cats...”
“Actually, we were talking about pizza.”
This time her daughter’s grin had a mischievous innocence to it. “Nice try, Mom. Cats make good pets and they don’t need nearly as much attention as a dog.”
“Casey,” she warned. Even the thought of having a cat in the house made her eyelids itch. “Don’t even think about it.”
“All right, then. We’ll have to settle for Petey.” Casey tossed the final sassy suggestion over her shoulder as she dashed out of the room, leaving Sarah no opportunity to respond.
Every day Sarah counted her blessings that she had a daughter who worked hard at school and she was beyond grateful that at fourteen, her girl was still more interested in animals than she was in boys. All good qualities, but Sarah couldn’t relent on adding a dog to their already-hectic household. Her daughter had a way of wearing her down, but not this time. While she was the first to acknowledge that Casey’s hard work and enthusiasm deserved recognition, giving in to her desire to have a dog was not the way to go.
She double-checked the contents of her briefcase, zipped it shut and carried it downstairs just as the moving van pulled away from the house next door. From inside the screen door she watched until it disappeared around the corner, and then the street was quiet again.
Lunch, she reminded herself. She would heat the soup in the microwave and have a quick meal with Casey, then they would deliver the cookies and welcome their new neighbors to Serenity Bay before she left for work. Until then, she wouldn’t let herself think about the man next door who was both single and singularly good-looking. If there was no room in her life for man’s best friend, there was definitely no room for a man.
* * *
“DAD? HAVE YOU seen the box that has my shoes in it?”
Jonathan Marshall studied his fourteen-year-old fashionista as she clattered down the stairs of their new home. Then he shifted his attention to the piles of packing boxes piled willy-nilly in the foyer, living room and beyond. Stacked in their former home in West Vancouver, they had represented a fresh start. Now those same boxes were the source of some serious second thoughts.
Was this the right decision? Was leaving the city and moving to the small coastal town of Serenity Bay the best thing for him? For Kate? She sure didn’t think so. She hadn’t wanted to leave her friends, the city, their home or her school, and in that order, although he suspected their condo’s close proximity to the mall was what she’d really miss. He understood that, all of it. He only asked that she keep an open mind, all the while realizing that was a tall order. If there was one thing a high school teacher knew above all else, it was that teenagers rarely had open minds. And why would they? They already knew at least as much as the average adult and definitely more than their parents.
Kate tore open a box and turned up her nose at the contents. “Kitchen stuff.”
“Good to know. How about you keep opening boxes and I’ll put them where they belong?”
“Seriously?”
“This’ll go a lot faster if we work together.”
Kate exhaled a long, dramatic sigh. “I guess, but I need my shoes.”
Knowing it would be futile to remind her that she was already wearing a perfectly good pair of shoes, Jon carried the box of pots and pans into the kitchen and set it on the counter. Kate had ripped opened two more boxes by the time he returned.
“Another one for the kitchen and this one—” She touched the box with the toe of her pink sneaker. “Bathroom. We should have labeled these.”
“There was no time,” he said, depositing the box of towels at the bottom of the stairs. “Did you write anything on your boxes?”
“Never thought of it. I’ll remember that for next time.”
Next time? Best let that drop, he decided as he returned to the kitchen with the second box. He had signed a one-year lease on this place and until that was up he was in no hurry to move again, so there was no point in giving her a chance to say she wanted to move back to the city. He had already accepted the position as PE teacher at Serenity Bay High School, and he had every intention of giving this fresh start his best shot.
Besides, this was a great house with its front facing onto a quiet cul-de-sac. Jubilation Court—which really was their new address—had lived up to its name from the moment he’d gazed out the kitchen window. He stared out the window now and surveyed the cedar-plank deck and, between the two towering firs growing at the bottom of the slope that was his backyard, the sweeping curve of Serenity Bay and the Salish Sea beyond.
Okay, maybe jubilant wasn’t exactly right, but in spite of his daughter’s resentment he sensed he could feel settled here, content even. Emotions that had evaded him since his ex-wife had dropped her bombshell. With a shake of his head, he chased the memories away. Fresh start, remember? The old baggage had been left behind. Right? Right. That’s what he told the kids on his soccer team. We can’t dwell on the past, we can only analyse it and improve our game. If they could believe it, so could he.
Kate, suddenly quiet, was sitting on the floor and gazing intently at framed family photographs when he once again returned to the living room.
“Are you going to put these on the mantel?” There was no missing the hint of accusation in her voice. “Or did you plan to leave them in the box and hope I didn’t find them?”
With her long dark hair and engaging blue eyes, she was every bit as stunning as her media-darling mother, and that scared him more than he liked to admit. It also hurt, more than a little, that she thought he would try to erase her mother from her life. He was a bigger man than that, or at least he wanted to be.
“I had no intention of hiding that box of photographs. Tell you what, why don’t you unpack as many as you want and put them on the mantel right now?”
Kate rolled her eyes as only a teenager could. “Maybe later. I’m looking for my shoes, remember?”
How could he forget? And what had become of the little girl who used to hang on every word he said? Huh. Who was he kidding? Long before her fourteenth birthday last month, his little girl had been morphing into a beautiful young woman with a personal sense of style and a mind of her own. He watched her shift boxes, tear flaps open, peer inside and purposefully move on to the next.
Never get between a woman and her wardrobe, he reminded himself. If he’d learned nothing else about women during his marriage to Georgette, he’d learned that.
“All right!” Kate’s gleeful exclamation indicated the all-important shoes had been found. Before she picked the box up, she returned to the photographs. “Can I have this one of Mom for my room?”
“Of course.” It was important that she maintain a connection with the mother who’d moved halfway across the world, he knew that, but he worried that daily phone calls wouldn’t be enough.
She set her mother’s photograph in the box and closed the flaps. “Did you give her the phone number here?”
“I did. Emailed it yesterday along with the address and our new cell phone numbers.”
“Good.” She picked up the coveted carton of footwear and made her way upstairs, leaving the unasked question hanging in the air. When would Georgette call? She had initially promised to call every day but that was impractical, given her hectic travel schedule, but she did her best. She always called on Saturday, though, and he knew Georgette wouldn’t let Kate down. He hoped. She seldom did, and she had to understand what an important day this was for their daughter. If she didn’t call by dinnertime, he would send a text message reminder. If that was too late for her, well, that was too bad.
He went back to opening boxes and moving them to the rooms where they belonged. As he did, his thoughts drifted, searching for the exact moment his marriage had run off the rails. The reality was that there hadn’t been a moment. He and Georgette had spent most of their marriage slowly growing apart. He’d gradually become accustomed to being the very-much-on-the-sidelines husband of Vancouver’s most talked-about news anchor, and she had eventually stopped trying to turn her “I’d rather be at the gym” husband into a tuxedo-wearing socialite. Even after they knew it was over, they’d both spent several agonizing months coming to grips with it and helping Kate adjust to their new reality.
The real end had come in the form of a European businessman named Xavier who had swept Georgette off her feet and onto his Paris-bound private jet. She had agreed to Jon’s having full custody of their daughter and generous child support in exchange for summer visits. The first visit should have happened at the end of the last school year. It hadn’t. Then Kate was supposed to join her mother for a week in Rome, but that had fallen through. Instead Georgette had promised to be in Vancouver several weeks ago, and that, too, had fallen through at the last minute. Now it was going to be Thanksgiving. He knew Georgette loved their daughter and wanted to make her a priority. He just wasn’t sure Kate knew that.
The doorbell rang as he was contemplating, for something like the millionth time, the overwhelming difference between being a divorced guy with shared custody and a single dad with total responsibility for a rebellious teenager.
Jason Oliver, the real estate agent who’d rented the house to him, had said he would drop by sometime today. Given that Jon didn’t know anyone else in Serenity Bay, it had to be him. Grateful for the distraction from demoralizing self-doubt and disorganized packing boxes, he wound his way through the clutter and opened the front door to a beautiful woman with a paper plate of cookies in her hands and a teenage girl by her side.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Sarah Stewart. My daughter, Casey, and I live next door and we wanted to welcome you and your daughter to the neighborhood, to Serenity Bay.”
Jon’s heart sank, and not in an entirely good way. The real estate agent had mentioned that a widow lived next door. This was the widow? This expensively dressed and stunningly beautiful woman whose poise and self-control reminded him of Georgette.
“These are for you.” Sarah held out the plate.
“Thanks. I’m Jonathan Marshall. Jon.”
“We baked them,” the girl said. She looked to be about Kate’s age, but the similarity ended there. This girl’s blond hair was pulled back in a casual ponytail, and Kate wouldn’t be caught dead in faded jeans, high-top runners, and a red-and-white T-shirt with the letters L-O-V-E across the front. The O was a soccer ball.
He accepted the offering, backed away from the door, and called upstairs. “Kate? Come down and say hi to our neighbors.”
“Be there in a minute.”
He gave them what probably looked like an awkward smile. It sure felt awkward. “My daughter’s minutes tend to be a little on the long side. Would you like to come in?”
“Oh, well, okay.” Sarah cautiously stepped inside and glanced around. “I have to work this afternoon and you have your hands full here so we won’t stay, but we would like to meet your daughter.”
“Of course.” There was an awkward pause. She had beautiful gray-green eyes, and he wished he hadn’t noticed. “So...where do you work?”
“I own a clothing boutique downtown.”
He’d checked out the town before putting an offer on this house. Serenity Bay’s shopping district on Shoreline Boulevard consisted of three or four blocks of high-end shops, art galleries, bistros and coffeehouses, which hardly qualified as “downtown.” Her occupation explained the elegant outfit, though, and justified his wariness. Over the years his ex-wife had become more and more fixated on appearances, until finally his appearance in her life was no longer important.
Sarah’s daughter was a different matter. “You’re a soccer fan?” he asked, referring to her T-shirt.
The girl and her mother shared a knowing look and a quick grin, which was both puzzling and just a bit odd.
“I love soccer! I play on the girls’ team at school.”
“You do? Then I’ll be your coach.”
“Cool,” Casey said. “Me and the other girls on the team were wondering—”
Kate’s descent down the staircase ended the conversation. “Princess is hiding under my bed. I’ve been trying to get her to come out.”
She’d swapped the pink sneakers for black sandals that had three straps buckled around her ankles and open toes that showed off the black-and-white-striped pedicure she’d insisted she needed before being dragged away from civilization.
“Princess is our cat,” he said for no particular reason. “Kate, this is Sarah and her daughter, Casey. They live next door.”
“Hi.”
The two teens eyed each other self-consciously.
“Kate’s going into ninth grade,” he said to break the ice.
“Me, too.” Casey sounded a lot more eager than Kate looked. “I can show you around if you’d like, introduce you to some of my friends. I’ve lived here forever so I know everybody.”
Jon held his breath.
“Oh. Sure, that’d be great.”
To his relief, his daughter’s tone was considerably sweeter than it had been earlier. Was it genuine? Only time would tell, but at least for now she was being polite.
“It’s lovely to meet you both, but I’m afraid we have to go.” Sarah stepped out onto the porch and her daughter followed. “You’re welcome to drop by my store sometime,” she said, turning back to speak to Kate. “It’s called To the Nines. A shipment of jeans and tees came in yesterday, perfect for back to school. If you’re interested, that is.”
“Really? Thanks. I’ll check it out for sure.” Kate’s voice held more enthusiasm than he’d heard in weeks.
Jon indulged in an inward sigh as his daughter retreated upstairs and he watched his new neighbors cross their adjoining driveways. Sarah Stewart’s makeup and blond hair were flawless. Her beige linen jacket and skirt were the kind of classic that came with a hefty price tag. He hadn’t counted on having another woman in their lives who put way too much emphasis on appearances. Not that the woman next door was in their lives, and to be fair, he reminded himself, there were subtle differences. Georgette had never baked cookies, not even the kind sliced from a roll of store-bought cookie dough. His ex-wife’s stilettos had been her personal trademark, but Sarah Stewart’s simple off-white leather flats looked as though they might actually be comfortable.
And he had to admit that a fashion plate of a woman who was raising a soccer-playing tomboy daughter kind of intrigued him on some level. Yes, her appearance and her occupation represented things he didn’t much care for, but were those sensible shoes an indication that she had more substance than he gave her credit for? Time would tell.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_90bda8a3-93fe-5bb1-b644-66c6e4fcd61c)
SARAH’S PHONE LIT UP as she was writing up her final sale of the day. A discreet glance showed a text from her daughter, which she would read after she locked up. She’d had a productive afternoon, and that was a good thing since she’d frittered away most of the morning. She was ready for some mother-daughter time, but her customer didn’t need to know that.
“Thank you, Mrs. Bentley.” Sarah folded a brightly patterned silk scarf in pale pink tissue paper, admiring as she always did the delicate fabric as it slid between her fingers. She sealed the paper with a To the Nines label and slipped it into the shopping bag with the blouse and jacket her customer had purchased. “I’ll have our seamstress shorten the skirt as soon as she comes in next week and call you when it’s ready.”
“Thank you, dear. I want to wear this to my grandson’s christening in Vancouver next Sunday.”
“You’ll be the most elegant grandmother in town.” Eleanor Bentley had a husband with deep pockets, a hairdresser who kept the gray away and a wardrobe most women would die for. “How is the new baby?” she asked.
“Oh, he’s the cutest little fellow. I know everyone says that about their grandchildren, but he really is,” the woman said, beaming as she opened her black patent Louis Vuitton clutch and produced a photograph.
“He’s adorable.” He really was. Sarah made a point of getting to know her customers on a personal level, and Eleanor Bentley was one of her most devoted. Sarah would agree to pretty much anything to make sure she was also a satisfied customer. “He looks like his grandfather.”
The woman’s smile widened. “He does, doesn’t he? The Bentley men are a handsome bunch.”
Sarah had learned that Eleanor, while tiny in stature, had raised four sons who all had their father’s height and good looks. The youngest had recently passed the bar and was now practicing law with his three older brothers, as their father had before retiring with his wife to Serenity Bay.
In some ways, the elder Bentleys’ marriage reminded her of her parents’, minus the bank account, of course. Her mom and dad still lived in Ucluelet, where Sarah had grown up, in a house full of books and cats where her mother gardened and cooked organic food and her father tinkered with various inventions and engineering projects. No designer duds for them and no sign of retirement, either. They were good people and she loved them dearly—so did Casey—but there had been times growing up that she would have given anything to have a conventional family.
“Speaking of handsome...” Eleanor said. “I understand the new high school teacher moved in next door to you. Have you met him yet?”
Sarah’s face went warm as she stepped around the counter and handed the shopping bag to the Bentley family’s matriarch. “Just briefly.”
Handsome hardly did the man justice, but that was no reason for her to be blushing like a schoolgirl.
“I’ll see you next week, Mrs. Bentley. If you bring the jacket back with you, and shoes you’ll be wearing with this outfit, you can try everything on while the seamstress is here and she can make any little last-minute adjustments.”
“What a good idea. Thank you, dear.”
After Eleanor left the store, Sarah flipped the dead bolt in place and returned to the sales counter as her assistant Juliet came out of the back stockroom that doubled as Sarah’s office.
“The back door’s locked and I shut down the computer,” Juliet said. “And I unpacked the dresses that came in this afternoon. They’re on hangers and I’ve gone over them with the steamer, but they may still need a little touch-up on Monday morning.”
“Thank you so much. Before you leave, could you put this skirt in the alterations cupboard while I close up?” Sarah checked her watch, then remembered Casey’s text message. She read it while she tidied up the sales counter and slid some paperwork into her briefcase.
Got the last Twilight movie. Luv ya! PS: 1 ham n pineapple, 1 pepperoni!
Sarah smiled at the reminder as she replied to her daughter’s message.
Leaving now. See you in a half hour.
Today had been busier than usual, but thanks to Juliet’s help with the hordes of back-to-school shoppers, Sarah’s financial records were up to date and ready to go to the accountant, and she’d entered the new merchandise into the inventory database. Now she could go home, change into comfortable clothes, and settle in for movie-and-pizza night with Casey.
They’d started the tradition right after Sarah opened the store, when Casey was only seven years old, and she was grateful that her daughter was still enthusiastic about it. Yes, she’d raised a great kid, but outside of school, Casey still spent more time with her menagerie of animals or her nose in a book than with kids her own age. Would that change after she started high school? Would her daughter want to spend Saturday evenings with friends? Maybe even a boyfriend, perish the thought.
Sarah often reflected on her own childhood and teen years spent as an avid bookworm and a committed wallflower. She’d missed out on a lot and she wanted more for Casey, she really did, but for now these precious Saturday nights were theirs, and Sarah intended to cherish each and every minute of them.
* * *
JON PULLED INTO the parking lot next to Paolo’s Primo Pizzeria. He doubted a “primo” pizza could be found in an out-of-the-way place like Serenity Bay, but as the saying went, beggars couldn’t be choosers. If it were just him, he would have settled for whatever he could find in the boxes in the kitchen, and then power through till he had everything unpacked. Kate was “starving,” though, and the only thing harder to handle than a hormonal teenager was a hungry hormonal teenager. Besides, they could both use a break, and one night of cardboard pizza wouldn’t kill them.
Inside, the warm air scented with freshly baked crust, spicy tomato sauce and melted cheese almost had him buying the primo promise. Two of the half dozen booths were occupied, one by a family of four and the other by a pair of teenagers, maybe sixteen or seventeen, who were obviously on a date, judging by the way they were nestled together on the same side of the table.
“Be right with you,” a dark-haired woman said, clearing plates and napkins from a recently vacated table, her Italian accent in perfect keeping with the ambient aromas.
“No hurry.” He scanned the menu options on the wall behind the take-out counter. One large should be plenty for the two of them if they would do different toppings on each half. Kate, who three months ago had announced she was vegetarian, wanted a Neapolitan pizza because everything else was gross. He was debating over pancetta or prosciutto for his half of the pie when he was greeted by a soft female voice.
“Jonathan? Hi.” His new neighbor smiled up at him.
“Oh, Sarah. Hi.” She appeared as freshly starched as she had earlier, making him glad he’d pulled on a clean T-shirt before he’d left the house.
“Are you settling in?”
“Getting there. Still haven’t tackled the kitchen, though, and the gas for the barbecue hasn’t been turned on yet so we have to settle for takeout tonight.”
“You won’t be disappointed. Paolo’s pizzas are incredible. Best in the world, according to my daughter.”
“Sarah!” A middle-aged man in a white chef’s apron waved at her from the other side of the pass-through. “Your pizzas will be outta the oven in a coupla minutes.”
“Thanks, Paolo.” She set her handbag on the counter and pulled out her wallet. “I always call ahead,” she said. “Casey and I have pizza and watch a movie together every Saturday night.”
Something akin to envy washed over him. Saturday movie-and-pizza sounded like the kind of routine a family should have, although his never had.
The woman who’d been clearing tables approached the counter. “Sarah, good to see you. How’s your beautiful daughter? She is getting ready to go back to school, yes?”
“We’re all set, Maria. This is her first year of high school so she’s excited and a little nervous, too.”
“Tell her she has nothing to worry about. That girl of yours, she can do anything.”
“That’s sweet. Speaking of high school, I’d like to introduce my neighbor. This is Jonathan Marshall, the new teacher at Serenity Bay High. Jonathan’s daughter is the same age as Casey.”
Maria’s scrutiny was intense. “You live next door to our Sarah? This is good, yes?”
There was no mistaking the suggestive sparkle in those dark eyes, and he didn’t have to look at Sarah to know her self-consciousness matched his.
“Paolo!” Maria angled her head in the direction of the kitchen. “This is the new teacher.”
“Benvenuti to Serenity Bay! You like it here, no? And for you today we give you your first pizza on the house.”
“Oh, no,” Jon said, taken aback by the unexpected display of generosity. “That’s not necessary.”
“Si, si.” Maria wiped her hands on a towel. “Any pizza you like. You a teacher, you work hard. That’s good, yes?” It was more a statement than a question, and it was directed at Sarah.
This time he did glance down to see her reaction, and he liked what he saw.
“Just you and your daughter? You are not married, yes?” Maria’s question was directed at him, although she hadn’t taken her eyes off Sarah.
Paolo’s leisurely amble out of the kitchen broke the tension. “Here you go. One for you and one for Casey,” he said, setting two extra-large pizza boxes on the counter in front of Sarah.
“You’re each going to eat a whole pizza?” The question slipped out before Jon could stop it, but Sarah simply laughed.
“Not all in one sitting.” Sarah handed her credit card to Maria. “We’ll save a couple of pieces for breakfast tomorrow.”
“Pizza for breakfast?”
“You’ve never had cold pizza for breakfast?”
He shook his head.
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
And he could live with that.
“Here’s an idea,” Maria said. “You and Casey, you’re having pizza. And you are taking pizza home for your daughter, yes?”
He could see where this was going. Judging by Sarah’s reluctant nod, so could she.
“You all should have dinner together.” Maria waggled her finger from one to the other. “And your girls, they get to know each other, be good friends, yes?”
He liked the idea more than he had any right to.
Sarah tilted her head. Her eyes, more green than gray in this light, were serious but the creases at their corners hinted at an uncertain smile. He’d initially thought she was standoffish, even a little uppity. Not so, he realized. More on the shy side, and because of that she was going to say no way, not in his wildest dreams was he insinuating himself into her evening. He shouldn’t care but he did, because an evening in the company of another adult suddenly had a lot of appeal.
“It’s not a bad idea,” she said, the smile now real. “For the girls, I mean. And it’ll give you and your daughter a break from unpacking.”
Okay. Not the reaction he expected, but she was right. Getting his daughter out of the house, having her spend time with someone her own age, would be good for her. “Sure,” he said. “Your place? Mine’s still full of boxes.”
Maria and Paolo stood shoulder to shoulder on the other side of counter, each sporting a mile-wide grin.
“Buona idea.” Maria sounded surprised, as if the good idea hadn’t even crossed her mind. She was a sly one, Jon thought. He had a hunch he was going to like this woman and her husband, and their food, if the warm aroma wafting from Sarah’s pizza boxes was anything to go by.
She tucked her credit card back into her wallet and picked up the boxes. “I’ll see you when your pizzas are ready. It’s a nice evening, so we can sit out on the deck.”
He watched her walk away, again noting the sensible flat shoes. This time he also noticed how she managed to walk like a woman wearing stilettos, and then he wished he hadn’t.
“You have decided what you want, yes?”
Jon swung around. “Ah. Yes. Two pizzas, please. Extra large.”
Paolo was back in the kitchen, throwing dough as he chuckled to himself, and Maria’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she jotted his order on a notepad. “Bella donna,” she said. “Una buona mamma.”
His Italian was far from fluent but he knew enough to know that the softly spoken phrases did not translate to Neapolitan or prosciutto with caramelized onions. And pizza was all he wanted. Just pizza.
* * *
SARAH PARKED IN the driveway between her place and her new neighbor’s. Jonathan’s place. Randomly stacked cardboard boxes, empty, she presumed, littered the porch, and a pair of bicycles leaned against the rail.
Maria and Paolo were about as subtle as a ton of bricks. While she’d stood there in the restaurant, with the pair of them grinning shamelessly and Jonathan waiting expectantly, the suggestion that they share a meal had seemed like a good one. Mostly she’d been thinking about her daughter. Sarah loved that Casey was content to march to the beat of her own drum, but a mother always wanted her daughter’s adolescence to be different from hers. Sarah had been the quiet kid, the wallflower. The first one everyone thought of when they needed help with homework or the gym decorated for a school dance. The last one considered when sleepovers were planned and party invitations sent out.
Sarah knew she couldn’t arrange “play dates” for a teenager, but it might be good for Casey to have someone close to her own age, a classmate, living next door. And maybe for Kate, too. The poor girl had looked lost and sullen, like a kid who could use a friend.
So far today, Eleanor Bentley and Maria Donatelli had not-so-subtly hinted about how nice it was for Sarah to have a handsome, eligible man living right next door. Silly romantics, both of them. Yes, Jonathan seemed to be a nice man, and yes, he was one of the most attractive she’d ever met. Did that mean she would toss common sense out the window, risk everything she’d worked so hard for? Absolutely not. She and Casey had a good life, a secure life, and she wouldn’t jeopardize that for anyone, no matter how dazzling his cool blue eyes might be.
Sarah let herself in the front door, set her handbag and keys on the hall table, and made her way to the kitchen with the pizza. Casey had set out plates, glasses and napkins on the island, but she was nowhere to be seen. Sarah switched the oven on low, shoved the pizzas inside to keep them warm, and took two more sets of dishes out of the cupboard.
She dashed upstairs and found Casey sprawled on her bed, earbuds in her ears and head bobbing to music as she scanned the screen of their iPad.
“What are you working on?” Sarah asked from the doorway.
Casey glanced at her and smiled.
“There are so many animals at the shelter right now. It’s crazy. I’m posting pictures of them on Facebook so everyone can see how adorable they are and maybe decide to adopt one of them.”
“That’s a great idea.” Which meant Sarah would see them, too, because one stipulation of her daughter’s being on Facebook was allowing her mom to have full access. A stipulation that Sarah took full advantage of, including checking the privacy settings periodically to make sure only her daughter’s friends had access to the things she posted. “Is there a picture of Petey?”
“No. I’m starting with the older animals because they’ll be harder to adopt.”
Putting up photos of the animals was a good idea, although Sarah knew exactly why Casey hadn’t included Petey’s picture. She wanted to adopt him. There was no time to go there right now, so Sarah changed the subject. “We’re having company for dinner tonight so I need to get changed and get back downstairs.”
Casey’s expression changed in an instant. “Company? We never have company.”
“Of course we do. Your grandparents come to visit twice a year.” One week at Christmastime and two weeks in early July.
“Grandparents aren’t company, they’re family.” Wary now, Casey swung off the bed and faced her. “Who’s coming for dinner?”
“The new neighbors, Jonathan and Kate. I ran into him at Paolo’s. He was picking up pizza, too. It seemed the neighborly thing to do since they’re not settled in yet.”
“Are they going to watch the movie, too?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Twilight might not be his thing, but you and Kate can watch it.”
Casey responded with an adamant head shake. “No. You and I watched the others together and I want us to watch this one, too. Besides, she might not have seen the first three, and you can’t watch them backward.”
It was impossible to believe there was a teenager on the planet who had missed those movies, but her daughter’s insistence on watching this one with her lightened Sarah’s heart.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_381ddea6-bb31-5899-8092-818418a31263)
THE INSIDE OF the car now smelled every bit as good as the pizzeria, making Jon’s mouth water and reminding him how many hours it had been since he’d last eaten. He pulled into the driveway next to Sarah’s car, grabbed the boxes and took the front steps two at a time. Now to break the news to Kate that they were having dinner next door. Would she react favorably? He hoped so. It’d been a long day and he wasn’t up for a fight, or even a disagreement.
He unlocked the front door and pushed it open. “Kate? I’m home.” He held his breath till he heard her response.
“Be right down, Dad!”
Encouraged by her pleasant tone, he set the pizzas on top of a stack of boxes still waiting to be unpacked. He hoped she wouldn’t make a fuss about going next door to eat, and he hoped she’d make an effort to get along with Sarah’s daughter, because he was looking forward to having some adult company.
She was smiling when she joined him at the bottom of the stairs. “Mom called,” she said.
Thank heaven for small miracles. “The two of you had a good talk?”
“Yeah, we did. She apologized again for not making it back to Vancouver this summer. She thinks maybe Thanksgiving or for sure Christmas.”
Georgette’s “for sure” was as good as a “maybe,” but this wasn’t the time to dwell on the negatives. “Who knows,” he said. “She might make it for both.”
Kate shrugged. “I doubt it. She said she’ll book rooms at the Hotel Vancouver and we can spend Christmas there. You, too.”
“Oh, that sounds...nice.” Not. He couldn’t imagine anything more excruciating than spending the holiday with Georgette and Xavier. Lucky for him, that was months away and plenty could change between now and then, Georgette’s mind being one of them.
“Right now we have a more immediate invitation. I ran into our neighbor—Sarah—at the pizza place and she invited us to have dinner over there. I told her we would. I hope that’s okay with you.”
She shrugged again. “Sure. Do we need to take anything?”
He picked up the pizza boxes and held the door for her. “Just these.”
On their way to the house next door, she chattered about her new room and how she nearly had all of her stuff organized. She had even sent a couple of pictures to her mom, who thought the room looked great.
Jon made a mental reminder to send Georgette a text message after dinner and thank her for getting in touch with Kate. He liked seeing their daughter like this, almost effervescent, especially compared to her earlier funk.
They climbed Sarah’s front steps and rang the doorbell. The prospect of having dinner with a beautiful woman, teenagers notwithstanding, had improved his outlook, too. And his mood ratcheted up a few more notches when Sarah opened the door. Since he’d bumped into her half an hour ago, she’d undergone a head-to-toe transformation from ultrachic businesswoman to a hip-looking young mom in navy jeans and a creamy yellow lace top that flared below her waist. The diamonds dazzling her ears matched the rhinestones that studded her flip-flops.
Her smile was warm and genuine. “We’re really glad you could join us,” she said.
He smiled back. So was he.
* * *
AN HOUR LATER, Sarah watched Casey polish off her fourth slice of pizza. She said she wanted to try one of each, and to everyone’s apparent surprise, she’d succeeded.
“I have to go upstairs and feed my critters,” she said, tossing a balled-up napkin into one of the empty boxes. “Would you like to come with me?” she asked Kate.
“Critters?” There was no mistaking the uncertainty in the girl’s voice.
“That’s what I call them. My mom says she’s allergic to cats and she won’t let me have a dog...” During a drawn-out pause, she narrowed her eyes at Sarah. “So I have other animals in cages and aquariums.”
“Any snakes?” Kate asked. “Those are gross.”
Casey shook her head. “No. I mean, I don’t think snakes are gross, but my mom would never let me have one of those, either.”
Sarah laughed. “Creepy-crawlies make me squeamish, too, but even I’m okay with these critters. They’re harmless, trust me.”
Casey momentarily looped her arms around Sarah’s neck. “Thanks for the pizza, Mom. You, too—” She hesitated. “Um, Mr. Marshall, I guess.”
“How about we reserve the ‘Mr. Marshall’ thing for school?”
Casey grinned.
“And soccer practice,” he added. “Otherwise it’s Jon.”
“Sure.”
Kate pushed away from the table and followed Casey across the deck. “Thank you for having us over. This was nice.” She hadn’t had a lot to say while they ate, but Sarah could tell she was a sweet girl and she liked her quiet confidence.
“You’re welcome. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
“She’s a great kid,” Sarah said to Jon after the girls went inside and closed the sliding door behind them. “Nice manners, too.”
“Thanks. She has her moments but mostly, yes, she’s a good kid.”
He seemed both reluctant to give her too much credit and pleased that someone else recognized his daughter’s positive traits.
“Would you like coffee?” she asked. She hoped he would say yes. In spite of his parenting skills, which were awkward at best, she had enjoyed their conversation over dinner. “If you can afford the time, that is.”
“Ah...sure. That’d be nice.”
“I’ll run in and make some.” She gathered up the pizza boxes and tucked them under one arm, then picked up the tray with all of their empty plates and glasses.
“Let me help with those.”
“Thanks, but I can manage.” She gestured toward the bay. “You’ve had a long day. Sit and enjoy the view. I’ll be right back.”
Inside the kitchen, she poured water into the coffeemaker and filled the basket with grounds. While it brewed she quickly loaded the dishwasher and set a pair of bright red coffee mugs and a mismatched creamer and sugar bowl on the tray. Almost as an afterthought, she added a small plate with some of the cookies.
Jon had hesitated when she’d offered coffee. Perhaps because he still had a lot to do at home. Or maybe he’d had enough of her company for one evening. No, she didn’t think that was it. She’d felt a little spark at the pizza place. She was sure he had, too, although she had to admit to being completely out practice when it came to these things. Paolo and Maria’s matchmaking aside, an attractive single man would draw attention in a small town like Serenity Bay. There weren’t many single women here, but she knew a few married ones who’d be wishing they were. A thought that didn’t sit well, she realized.
She filled the two mugs and carried the tray back outside. Jon stood with his back to her, leaning on the railing. The view always captivated her, and tonight was no exception. The tide was low and the bay itself was calm. Out on the strait, though, a light breeze had the surface dancing, and in the distance a cruise ship destined for Alaska glided by, lights twinkling in the dusk.
“Here we go.” She set the tray on the table and he walked back to join her. “Cream and sugar?” she asked after they were seated.
“Black is good, thanks.”
She scooped sugar into hers, added cream, stirred. He was watching quizzically when she looked up.
“I have a sweet tooth.”
“I can see that.”
She held out the plate. “Help yourself.”
“Ah. Cookies. Thanks for the ones you dropped off this afternoon. They were...great.” And he was a terrible liar.
“You didn’t look at all guilty when you said that.” His grin suggested he was onto her. “Casey thought we should bake something to welcome you to the neighborhood, but I am not a cookie-baking kind of mom. Actually, I’m not much of a cook of any kind.”
“It’s the thought that counts,” he said, and he sounded sincere. “I was glad you stopped by. So was Kate, although she might not have let on.”
Sarah set the tray on the table and handed one of the mugs to him. “Kate seems like she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
“She does. But she’s going through a...I don’t know...a phase? At least I hope it’s a phase.” He drank some of his coffee. “This is good.”
“Thanks. Fourteen’s a tough age, especially for girls.” She set her mug on the table and wrapped her hands around it. “No longer a child but not quite old enough to have any independence.”
“True. Boys seem to take a while longer to get to that point.”
“So I recall. I think raising girls is easier, don’t you?”
“I don’t know about easy, but then I never expected to be raising a kid on my own, boy or girl.”
“How long has it been?”
He drank some coffee while he contemplated his answer.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That’s a personal question. You don’t have to answer it.”
“No problem. I was just doing the math. Georgette moved out a year ago but even before that she was busy with her career, pretty much working twenty-four/seven, so we—Kate and I—were on our own a lot of the time.”
Sarah gazed into her coffee cup, choosing her words carefully. “Juggling family and career is tough for a lot of women,” she said. “We want to be a success at both.”
“Georgette likes to live large. It’s not a lifestyle that lends itself to parenting...and I’m being honest, not critical. She adores Kate, and Kate is her biggest fan.”
“Your daughter’s lucky to have her in her life then,” she said. “Casey was only six when my...when her father died in a car accident.”
He looked genuinely surprised. “Oh, I’m sorry. That must’ve been rough.”
“It was at first.” She sipped some coffee and changed the subject. “What made you choose Serenity Bay as your new home?”
She didn’t particularly want to talk about herself, and she didn’t want to talk about her disaster of a marriage that ended even more disastrously. Keeping the conversation on current topics should be safe enough.
“I didn’t so much choose the town as it chose me. Deciding to leave the city was the first step. The town we moved to depended on where I could find a job.”
“Of course, that makes sense.”
“When I heard about the teaching position here, it sounded perfect. The school, the town, everything. Then I found this house, and here we are.”
“I hope you like it here. After my...Jim died, my parents tried to get me and Casey to move back to Ucluelet or least someplace on Vancouver Island where we’d be closer to them. They thought it would be easier for us to be near family, but Serenity Bay was the right place for us then and it still is. Great schools, friendly people. It’s a good place to raise kids.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.” “My daughter was not happy about the move.”
Sarah smiled. “Teenagers don’t like change, that’s for sure. Casey said she’ll show her around and introduce her to some of the kids at school. Maybe that will help.”
“I hope so.”
“It’ll be good for Casey, too, having a girl her age living close by. She can be a bit of a loner and I worry about her sometimes.”
“But isn’t she on the soccer team?”
“She is, and she plans to work on the student newspaper and wants to run for student counsel, but outside school she spends a lot of time by herself, doing homework, reading. Especially this summer because her best friend is away.”
“She sounds grounded,” he said. “Maybe some of her enthusiasm will rub off on Kate. She does what she needs to get by and then she hangs out at the mall, pores over fashion magazines, exchanges text messages with her friends.”
There was no mistaking his tone when he mentioned the magazines. As close to derisive as possible without being rude.
“Sometimes a child finds her passion,” Sarah said. “And sometimes that passion finds her. Our job as parents is to encourage them to keep the doors open and be willing to explore opportunities when they present themselves.”
“When it comes to school, it might take a crowbar to pry open Kate’s doorway to opportunity.”
The comment stung Sarah’s sensibilities. Did he say things like that to his daughter? If he did, then there was little wonder they had a communication problem. She stood with her cup in her hand and reached for his. “I’ll get more coffee.”
“Thanks.” He sounded awkward, as though he’d picked up on her reaction and regretted what he’d said.
He was on his feet again and taking in the view when she returned with their mugs refilled. She set his on the metal top of the glass rail, next to where he leaned on his forearms.
The western sky was still lit by the sun that had just dipped out of sight. The harbor was quieter than it had been earlier in the day. A lone fishing trawler chugged into the marina, and a pair of kayakers paddled near the resort on the other side of the bay. For a few minutes she and Jonathan stood and gazed across the bay, occupied with their own thoughts.
She set her red mug next to his. “It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”
“I was thinking the same thing. It’s why I decided on our place. We were lucky to get a one-year lease, which gives us time to decide if this is where we want to call home.”
“I never get tired of this. Every time I look out here, it’s a little different from the last time, depending on the tide, the angle of the sun, the marine traffic coming and going.”
“The real estate agent said we’d even see whales from time to time. I wasn’t sure if that was true or just a sales pitch but I put a pair of binoculars in the kitchen, just in case.”
“It’s true,” she said. “It’s quite common to see one of the resident pods of killer whales, but usually outside the breakwater. They seldom venture into the bay. Casey loves them. I’ll bet Kate will, too.”
“I hope so.” He finished his coffee, straightened. “She and I should be getting home.”
“Of course. I’ll let the girls know.” She took his mug and set it along with hers on the tray and carried it inside.
He followed without saying anything. She couldn’t tell if he had picked up on her disappointment with his negative comments about his daughter or if something else was bothering him. In her opinion, those had been terrible things for a parent to say about a child, especially the crowbar remark. Even if he didn’t say anything that harsh to his daughter’s face, a sensitive kid would pick up on his attitude.
His problem is not your problem. He seemed like a nice guy and he was definitely nice to look at, but she had no time for anyone who was not fully engaged as a parent. She’d been there once and that had been one time too many.
* * *
AS BEDROOMS WENT, Casey’s was a total train wreck, Kate Marshall thought. There were books everywhere. The walls were covered with World Wildlife Fund posters of a rhinoceros, a baby monkey and a bamboo-eating panda. Built-in shelves running the width of the room, beneath the window, were lined with cages and aquariums.
Casey opened the door of a tall wire cage that was filled with ramps and a wheel, reached inside and produced a small brown mouse.
“This is Jane,” she said, extending her hand. “Would you like to hold her?”
Did she want to hold a rodent? In her hand? Not even a little bit. “Oh, gee, ah, no. But thanks.”
The girl grinned at her as she reached into the cage and brought out Jane’s identical twin. “This is Dian. Lots of people are afraid of mice, but they’re actually sweet and very gentle. I named these two after famous scientists.”
“Oh.” Kate searched her memory for famous scientists. Other than Albert Einstein, she drew a blank.
“Jane Goodall studies chimpanzees and Dian Fossey wrote Gorillas in the Mist. Have you read it?”
A book about gorillas? Seriously? “No, I haven’t.”
Casey placed a rodent on each shoulder, giggling softly as one of them nuzzled her neck. Kate shuddered.
“You’re welcome to borrow my copy.”
“Oh, gee—”
“Let me guess. That’s another no.”
“Science books aren’t really my thing,” Kate said.
“That book’s not really a... Never mind.” Casey scooped nuts and seeds out of a glass canister and into a little dish inside the mouse cage. “I’m going to be a veterinarian some day because I want to work with animals, so I read a lot of...science books.”
Her emphasis on science...was that a put-down?
“Most kids who haven’t even started high school haven’t figured out what they want to do when they graduate.”
“Yeah, most people think it’s weird, but I’ve always known. My mom says I figured it out in kindergarten when the local vet visited my class. Dr. Jacobson still runs the animal clinic in town and she does a lot of work for Serenity Bay’s animal shelter. She even has three rescue dogs of her own. She helped me get on as a volunteer at the animal shelter this summer.”
Casey tossed a carrot and a piece of broccoli into the cage, and then she took one mouse off her shoulder, holding it in her palm, stroking its head and along its back with the tip of one finger before setting it gently in the cage.
“Nighty-night, Jane. You, too, Dian,” she said, repeating the process with the other rodent. “I’ve always wanted a dog, or a cat, or both, but my mom’s allergic to cats and she says we’re too busy to take care of a dog.”
Anyone who could be this crazy about a mouse definitely should have a real pet. Kate had never had a dog, but there’d been many nights when she’d crawled into bed, snuggled up with Princess and cried herself to sleep because her mom wasn’t coming home. She hardly cried about that anymore, but it still made her sad. If her dad knew, he’d freak out for sure, and she did not need that. She was glad Princess was a good listener and an even better secret-keeper. For a while she’d cried about having to move, but that hadn’t made any difference, either. And she wasn’t so much sad as she was totally furious with her dad for making her come to live in this stupid little town in the middle of freaking nowhere. Especially if Casey was any indication of what the other kids were like.
“Maybe you can convince your mom to change her mind about a dog.”
“Oh, I’m working on her.” Casey grinned and moved on to a terrarium that housed a small brownish-gray reptile. “This is Rex,” she said. “He’s a green anole lizard. I named him after my favorite dinosaur. Lizards aren’t dinosaurs, though.”
Like anyone cared.
“Birds are more closely related to dinosaurs than lizards are.” Casey opened a plastic container that had small holes poked in the lid, took out a bug that was...ew! ew! ew!...squirming!...and dropped it into the glass enclosure with the lizard.
Kate hastily averted her gaze, not wanting to see this particular critter consume its meal. She didn’t respond to the dinosaur trivia, either, but Casey didn’t seem to notice.
“Rex eats crickets,” she said. “I buy them at the pet store.”
The only thing creepier than keeping live bugs in your bedroom? Picking them up with your bare hands and feeding them to something even creepier. Ew.
“What do kids do in Serenity Bay?” Kate asked, hoping to shift the conversation away from the science of Casey’s critters. “Besides school, I mean.”
Casey sprinkled fish food into the aquarium next to the lizard tank, and they both watched the multicolored fish dart to the surface. Finally, some normal animals.
“That depends. I’m on the soccer team and I’ve always been involved in a bunch of activities at school.”
“What about after school? Is there someplace kids like to hang out?”
Casey shrugged. “At Paolo’s, the place where our parents bought the pizzas, or at the after-school drop-in at the community center. The boys like to go there because there’s a pool table and video games.”
She made it sound lame, and Kate sort of agreed. Except for the part about boys. In the city, she and her friends usually went to the mall after school. Lots of boys hung out there, too, but she mostly loved to check out her favorite clothing stores. Recently she had been paying attention to the window displays and she already had a ton of ideas. When she was old enough to have a part-time job, she wanted to work in one of those stores and wow shoppers with her displays.
“Do you spend much time at the drop-in center?” she asked.
Casey scrunched her nose, making her freckles stand out more than ever. “I usually come home and do my homework, but sometimes I stop at the library on my way. I read a lot.”
No kidding, Kate thought. The only room she’d ever seen that had more books than this one was a library.
“You said you’re not into science books,” Casey said. “What do you like to read? Or do you like to read?”
Kate hesitated, having a mental debate about whether or not to confess her dreams. Why not? It’s not as if they were as lame as living with rodents and lizards and dinosaurs.
“Magazines, mostly. Fashion magazines. Seventeen, Teen Vogue. I want to work in the fashion industry someday.” She couldn’t believe she’d said it out loud. She’d never revealed this to anyone, not even her closest friends in the city. They were only interested in goofing around or gossiping on Facebook, and they would either shrug off her ideas as totally not going to happen or, worse yet, make fun of her.
“Cool,” Casey said. “You should talk to my mom. She lives and breathes fashion trends, and pretty much everybody in town shops at her store. Except me.” Casey grinned. “She doesn’t sell the kind of clothes I like to wear.”
Kate had already noted the other girl’s attire, the same outfit she’d been wearing when she and her mom had delivered the cookies earlier that day. Faded denim cutoffs with rolled-up cuffs just above the knee, the soccer T-shirt, black-and-white high-top Keds. Ponytail. No makeup. Total tomboy. Still, Casey might not get where people like her mom and Kate were coming from, but she understood what it meant to have a dream.
“I can’t wait to see your mom’s store, but what I really want to do is work for a big fashion magazine someday as the editor in chief.”
“Oh, wow. Like in The Devil Wears Prada,” Casey said.
Kate laughed at that. “You saw that movie?”
“Yeah, my mom and I have a movie night every Saturday. Except tonight,” she added. “Since you and your dad came over. Have you seen it?”
“Yes. I loved the clothes, but I’ll be nicer when I’m the editor.”
“More like Anne Hathaway,” Casey said. “Although I liked her better in The Princess Diaries. You sort of look like her, actually.”
“Lots of people say that. It’s mostly the hair, before Anne cut hers. My mom interviewed her once when she was in Vancouver for something.”
“Really? Wow, that must’ve been so cool. Did you get to meet her?”
“No.” Not a chance. Her mom used to go on and on about the famous people she met, but whenever Kate asked to tag along, the answer had always been a firm no.
“She didn’t even let you watch from backstage, or whatever they call it in a TV studio?”
Kate gave her best careless shrug. “Those interviews were part of her job and it wasn’t appropriate to have a kid hanging around.” At least that had always been her mother’s excuse. But the cold, hard truth, as Kate eventually realized, was that her mother didn’t want those people to know she was a wife and mother.
“That’s too bad. Almost every summer we get a few famous people who bring their yachts into the marina here. Sometimes they’ll even stay a few days, do some shopping. Once in a while they go into my mom’s store, too. I’m never around to meet them, but it’s pretty cool that they like her store enough to shop there.”
“I’ll definitely check it out, especially if it’s the only good place in town to shop.”
“Be sure to tell her about the magazine stuff, too. If she knows you’re interested in more than just shopping, I’ll bet she can teach you all about the business end of things, too.”
This was the first positive thing Kate had heard about Serenity Bay since she’d arrived. But was she brave enough to share her dream with an adult? “I wonder if she needs help with displays and stuff like that.”
“She might. She’s always super busy so if you’re interested, you should ask her.”
“I will. There’s just one teensy little hitch.”
“What’s that?”
“My dad.” Okay, not so teensy. “He’ll have a cow if he hears about it.”
He was always going on about how she needed to get a good education, and by that he meant math and science and history, and then get a good job doing whatever people did when they knew math and science and history. She had never told her mother any of this, either, because by the time she figured it out, her mother was gone. Now, when they were on the phone, her mom spent a lot of time talking about the places she and Xavier had been, the celebrities they met. Just as she did this afternoon when she called. Kate tried not to let it bother her, but it did.
“It’s not like you’re doing anything wrong if you talk to my mom about her business,” Casey said.
True. And Sarah did seem super nice.
“We’ve always had soccer practice every Tuesday and Thursday after school. If your dad doesn’t change the schedule, then you could drop by my mom’s store on one of those days and he’ll never have to know.”
Huh. For a kid who came across as a Goody Two-shoes, Casey might be pretty cool after all.
“I might do that.” Maybe living here wouldn’t be so bad after all, Kate thought, watching Casey remove a circle of cloth that had been fastened over the top of a gigantic glass jar with an elastic band. She dropped another cricket inside. “Is there something in there?” she asked.
“Manny lives in here.”
Kate leaned in for a closer look. All she could see was a bed of moss on the bottom of the jar and a dead tree branch angled against the side. “I don’t see—”
A twig on the branch suddenly moved and caught the squirming cricket.
Kate squealed and jumped backward. “What on earth is that?”
“A praying mantis. She’ll eat crickets when that’s all I have, but she really likes it when I catch houseflies for her.”
Okay, this was just plain disgusting. Seriously, no normal person kept a giant bug in a jar, especially not a bug that ate other bugs that she had to catch and feed to it. Gross, gross, gross.
Casey only laughed. “Last spring my science teacher had praying mantises in our classroom. I thought they were interesting, so she let me bring one home. I’ve had her all summer.”
“Your mom really doesn’t mind you keeping all these, um, critters in the house?”
“No. She gets that I love animals, and I think she’s trying to make up for not letting me have a dog.”
“Your mom seems really nice.” And then another idea popped into Kate’s head. “Is she seeing anyone?”
“You mean...dating?” Casey carefully fastened the fabric over the top of the bug jar. “No, she’s either at work or at home so I’m sure she’s not.”
“Would it bother you if she was?”
Casey narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know. Why?”
If Kate had learned one thing from her mother, it was how to choose her words carefully. “My dad hasn’t dated anyone since he and my mom split, and he and your mom seem to be hitting it off.”
“So you think they’ll start dating?” Clearly, Casey was not warming up to the concept.
“I’m not saying they will, but I wouldn’t mind if my dad had someone to focus his attention on besides me.”
“Really? Your dad seems nice and everything, but I don’t know. I think my mom must have really loved my dad because ever since he died, it’s just been the two of us.”
Kate shrugged. “Whatever. I just thought it’d be nice if my dad could be happy again. And otherwise occupied.”
“You want him to start dating so he’ll pay less attention to you?”
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen. And I’ll bet if your mom was dating someone, you’d be able to use that to your advantage.”
“How exactly?” She seemed interested in spite of sounding skeptical.
“You said you want a dog, right?”
That got her attention. “More than anything.”
“Well, if your mom feels guilty because she’s seeing someone and not spending as much time with you, then she’ll want to do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”
Casey was grinning now. “And that something would be Petey.”
Kate shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”
And then Sarah called to them from the bottom of the stairs. “Casey? Kate’s dad is leaving now but she’s welcome to stay a while longer if she’d like.”
“Thanks, Mom!” she yelled back. “Do you want to?”
“I should probably go, too. We haven’t finished unpacking.”
Casey followed her downstairs and they joined their parents in the foyer.
Sarah was smiling. “Kate’s dad offered to give you a ride on the first day of school. Isn’t that nice?”
“Thanks,” Casey said. “But I always go with my friend Henry. He lives across the street.”
“Henry’s welcome to get a ride, too. The more the merrier. Right, Kate?”
Dad, don’t be lame. “Sure,” she said. “More is totally merry.”
She watched her dad exchange a look with Casey’s mom. “Thanks for having us over,” he said.
“Anytime,” Sarah replied.
Kate liked the way they were looking at each other. She winked at Casey, Casey winked back, and she gave herself a mental high five. This plan might work, she thought. It just might work.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_17cd447b-56b0-5347-9378-d3854b76856e)
SARAH CLOSED THE door after saying good-night to their new neighbors and turned to her daughter.
“That was okay, don’t you think?”
“Yeah. Kate’s dad seems pretty cool. Do you like him?”
That was an odd question, she thought, although Casey probably didn’t intend for it to sound the way it did. “He seems nice. I’m sure they’ll be good neighbors.”
Casey gave her an odd smile that suggested the question wasn’t so innocent after all. Best to let that go, especially since her conversation with Jonathan had ended on a sour note.
“How about you and Kate?” she asked. “Did you hit it off?”
“I think so. She doesn’t like my critters, though.”
Sarah laughed at that. “She’s not alone. A lot of people aren’t fond of rodents and reptiles.”
“True. She’s really into clothes and stuff.”
“She certainly seems to be. That was an expensive outfit she was wearing.”
Casey climbed two steps and draped herself over the banister. “I think her mom pays for a lot of her things but at least she wasn’t all, ‘oh, look at me and all my fancy stuff’ like some of the girls at school. She’s actually the only kid I’ve ever met...well, aside from Henry...who’s already figured out what she wants to be.”
“Really? And what’s that?”
“The editor of a fashion magazine.”
“Does she? That’s an ambitious goal.” One her father seemed to know nothing about, and given his scathing comments about fashion magazines and the mall, it was no surprise that she hadn’t told him. Poor kid. “Speaking of Henry, have you heard from him?”
Casey’s enthusiasm waned. “No. I was hoping he’d be home by now. He’s been gone all summer and school starts in a few days.”
“I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”
“I sure hope so.”
Sarah reached up and gave her a hug. “Why don’t you go upstairs and send him a text or an email? I want to clean up the kitchen.”
“Good idea. I also need to post the rest of the pictures I took at the shelter this morning.”
“I’ll pop in and say good-night when I’m done.” And there was no doubt she’d hear more about Petey when she did.
Back in the kitchen, she finished loading the dishwasher and turned it on, tossed paper napkins in the trash, stuffed the empty pizza boxes in the recycling bin, filled the sink with hot water and detergent. She swished the dishcloth in it and wiped every square inch of every surface in the kitchen. Take-out dinners meant she didn’t have to cook, and she loved that they made cleanup so easy. Now everything was spic ’n’ span, just the way she liked it.
Jonathan had not lived up to her first impression of him, and she found that more disappointing than she had any right to. Yes, he was way better-looking than any man needed to be, but looks weren’t everything, and it bugged her that she found him attractive.
There was a chance that she wasn’t giving Jonathan the benefit of the doubt. Moving was stressful, changing jobs was stressful, getting divorced was stressful, and he had hinted that Kate’s mother didn’t have much time for her. Casey had been young enough when her father died that the loss hadn’t seemed to have had an adverse effect on her, although there were times when Sarah wondered if losing her dad explained why her daughter didn’t form a lot of close personal attachments.
She strolled back out onto the deck and leaned on the railing where she and Jonathan had stood a short time ago. He was floundering with single parenthood, and tonight she’d been tempted to offer a little sage advice. Now she was glad she hadn’t. It wasn’t her place to interfere. She didn’t even know these people.
She felt sorry for Kate, though. In spite of her polished exterior—the girl certainly knew how to put an outfit together—and an outward air of confidence, Sarah thought the girl could use a healthy dose of self-esteem. There was also an underlying sadness to her, which was not a surprise. Between the hormones and impending womanhood, the early teen years were a confusing time for girls, and there was probably never a time when a girl needed her mother more than at this age. All the phone calls and text messages and lavish gifts in the world couldn’t replace a warm hug and a shoulder to lean on.
Sarah hoped the girls would become friends. She cherished the close bond she had with her daughter, but she also understood the importance of having close friends, and Kate might be as good for Casey as Casey could be for her. That would also provide a chance for Sarah to offer a shoulder once in a while, encourage Kate to pursue her dreams.
What about Jonathan?
What about him? Sure, she had concerns about his daughter, starting with his attitude, but she had no intention of interfering.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw that the lights were still on in his kitchen, but there was no sign of anyone in it. Apparently the man could cook, and that intrigued her. Over dinner tonight, he’d said he would like to reciprocate by having her and Casey over for homemade pizza next Saturday. Paolo’s were good, but his were better. She had accepted, thinking it would be good for the girls, and she was curious about the man’s made-from-scratch pizza. And her curiosity ended there. Letting herself ponder any of his other attributes was simply too risky.
* * *
CASEY SWITCHED ON her laptop and went back to work, posting the rest of the photographs she’d taken of the dogs at the shelter. She wasn’t posting Petey’s picture, though. Instead, she clicked on it and set it as her desktop background. After Kate hinted that she should guilt her mother into letting her have a dog, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She wouldn’t have thought that up on her own, that’s for sure. Her mom was just her mom. She didn’t go on dates and it was weird to think of her having a boyfriend.
Casey barely remembered her dad, wouldn’t know what he looked like if it weren’t for the photograph on her dresser. She’d been sitting on his shoulders and they’d been laughing about something when her mom had taken the picture. Even though she didn’t remember him or anything about the day that photograph was taken, he was still her dad. She’d always thought it would be fun to have a sister or a brother, but another dad? The idea had never crossed her mind.
Casey liked her new neighbor, though. Kate wasn’t like any of the other girls in Serenity Bay. Not even the coolest ones were as cool as Kate. Her clothes were super trendy and her manicure was crazy cool. All the girls at school who were into those kinds of things would have gone on and on and on about them—seriously, sometimes they made her want to scream—but Kate hadn’t said a thing. Instead of talking about clothes and hair and makeup, she said she wanted to work for a big fashion magazine someday, probably starting as a photographer and maybe writing articles, too, but eventually she’d be editor in chief.
She’d also seemed interested when Casey told her she was going to be a veterinarian, even though she’d been squeamish about some of the critters. Not everyone was comfortable with rodents and reptiles, but she’d said Manny the praying mantis was the grossest thing she’d ever seen.
Casey leaned in for closer look at her terrarium. “Good thing I didn’t feed you a fly while she was here.”
If Kate thought Manny eating a cricket was gross, watching her tear a housefly apart and gobble it up would totally freak her out.
They’d talked about their families, too, since having only one parent was something they did have in common. Kate’s mom was alive and well and living in Europe with her new and disgustingly rich husband. They traveled a lot so Kate couldn’t live with them. Then she’d said she didn’t think they wanted her anyway.
Casey had a hard time believing that. Her mom was strict about some things, like homework and curfew and not friending strangers on Facebook, but they also had fun doing things together. Like Saturday movie-and-pizza night, which had still turned out okay tonight even though Kate and her dad had been here and they hadn’t watched a movie.
Kate had confessed to being mad at her dad for making her move away from her friends in the city. Casey had tried to sympathize, but she hadn’t told Kate that she didn’t have many friends, mostly because other kids thought her obsession with animals was weird and her determination to get straight A’s was completely lame. If Kate thought she was weird or lame—or both—she hadn’t let on.
Casey’s phone whistled and she grabbed it off her nightstand. A text from Henry! He must be back at home, finally.
How R U?
Good. U?
Also good. Won’t B back 4 school tho.
No way. We R supposed 2 go 2gether.
Still visiting the fam. Back Fri.
Rats. This was not how things were supposed to go. Henry was her best friend. They always went together on the first day of school, and this was the first day of high school. She needed him there.
UR loss. Getting a ride to school with new neighbor anyway.
The new teacher?
Yep & daughter Kate.
Is she hot?
Let’s just say some of the girls at SBH were going to freak when they saw their new competition. Instead she typed:
Don’t be gross.
Ha! She is!
But UR not so 4get it.
Ouch. How R things with U and Dex?
There is no me and Dex.
That bad huh? U still haven’t made a move?
No, she had not, and even if she had wanted to, she had no clue what the moves were.
I said don’t be gross.
Gotta go. Mom’s yelling lites out.
What time is it in Montreal?
After 11.
K. G’night.
TTYL.
She set her phone back on the nightstand, slid off the bed and walked over to the window. It was getting dark and across the driveway she could see the light was on in Kate’s room. No sign of her, though. Maybe she was helping her dad unpack.
Casey had never considered the possibility that Henry wouldn’t make it back in time to start school. Good thing she’d accepted Kate’s dad’s invitation to get a ride with them. The first day of high school seemed like kind of a big deal, and she’d never imagined having to go alone.
Casey was looking forward to high school because she would finally have science classes with real labs, but she wasn’t looking forward to some of the other stuff. Like not having anyone except Henry to hang out with after school. But maybe that would change. Maybe she’d be heading to high school, not just with a friend but with one who was totally cool. That’d sure make people sit up and take pay attention. Maybe even Dexter would notice her.
Her uplifted spirits took a sudden dip. Would Kate still want to hang out with her once she realized Casey wasn’t one of the cool kids? Better question. Was there even the remotest of chances Dex would notice Casey, or would he only pay attention to Kate?
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_3a8728c5-4ede-598e-bdce-3eba4e378762)
ON THE MORNING of the day school started, Jon was up before dawn. He pulled on running shorts and a T-shirt and, with a pair of socks in hand, padded downstairs to the kitchen in bare feet. He started a pot of coffee and checked that the bread maker was doing its thing, then sat on a kitchen stool and pulled on socks and laced his running shoes.
Princess strolled into the room, meowing loudly to announce her presence and to indicate it was time someone served her breakfast.
“Good morning, girl.” He rubbed the top her head and she started to purr as she did a sideways sashay around his legs, back arched, tail in the air.
He retrieved a can of cat food from the fridge and scooped some into a bowl, dumped kibble into a matching bowl and returned the can to fridge. After he fulfilled his role, Princess promptly lost interest in him.
He poured himself a glass of water and stood at the kitchen counter while he drank it. He would never tire of this view. The bay would soon reflect the sunlight, but in the faint light at this early hour, the surface was flat and dark gray. A lone sailboat slowly motored past the end of the breakwater, on its way to open water where the sailor would hoist the sail and catch a breeze.
After letting himself out the back door, he locked it and tucked the key in a pocket inside his waistband. He spent a few minutes warming up before he set off down the driveway at an easy jog. Early morning was his favorite time of the day. Even in the city he’d liked the quiet, cool stillness, but here it was magnified, exaggerated in the best way possible. At the end of the block he turned right and took the steep road that led downhill to the beach, where he picked up the walkway that paralleled the seawall. He nodded at another man jogging in the opposite direction, passed an elderly woman walking a small dog, but otherwise he had the beach and his thoughts to himself.
He ran past the quaint little downtown business district that stretched for six blocks along Shoreline Boulevard and three blocks away from the beach. There it gave way to a mix of old cottages, newer homes and low-rise condominiums. Over the years, residences had slowly crept up the hillside, biting chunks out of the rain forest, affording homeowners spectacular views of the bay and the breakwater. His house was one of those. Moving here felt right, as though he’d finally come home to a place where he belonged instead of being someplace biding his time. Convincing Kate that this was her home, too? That would take some doing.
For the past few days he had pretty much worked from morning till night, and now the furniture was in place, the boxes unpacked, the closets and cupboards full. Kate had hated her bedroom curtains so they’d driven down to Sechelt yesterday afternoon so she could choose new ones. She had asked if Casey could go with them, and he had agreed, although he’d also recalled what Kate had said about their new neighbor after the cookie delivery. She’s probably a geek. Now he wasn’t sure if she actually wanted to be friends with the soccer-playing tomboy next door or if she simply hadn’t wanted to be seen alone with him in public. Either way, he was glad Casey had agreed to join them. She was a nice kid, and unlike some of Kate’s friends in the city, she seemed as though she’d be a positive influence.
And there was no ignoring the fact that her mother was pretty nice, too. Easy to talk to. Very easy on the eyes. Her parenting skills were as enviable as her culinary skills were deplorable, and he had no idea why but he found that charming. Over the past few days, though, he’d only caught rare glimpses of her, and he suspected she might be avoiding him. He regretted his blunt comments the other night. He’d been comparing his parenting to Sarah’s, his daughter to hers, and had fallen short on both counts. He hadn’t meant to sound critical of Kate but he had, and Sarah probably thought he was a jerk. She was right, and he hoped she would accept an apology the next time he saw her.
At the end of the seawall he exchanged a wave with a young couple on the beach whose golden retriever was hauling a stick out of the water. He swung around to make the return trip, laughing as the pair narrowly avoided a shower of seawater as the dog shook out its fur.
Not only did Kate seem to get along with Casey, she liked Sarah, too. She had even hinted that if Jon thought he might like to start dating, then maybe he should think about asking Sarah out. The idea had already crossed his mind, not that he would admit that to his daughter, at least not yet. What if Sarah said no? He would still have to live next door to her and that would, at best, be awkward. Better to wait till he had some sense of what her answer would be.
And then Kate had dampened his enthusiasm by pointing out that it’s not as if her mother were ever coming back. She was right. Georgette was never coming back and the truth was, he didn’t want her to. But dating someone else? Until now he hadn’t been ready to consider it. Kate needed to have one parent who was there for her, and for better or worse that parent was him. He couldn’t focus on being a parent, and maintaining a home for them and reestablishing a career, if he was back in the dating game. There was also the not-so-insignificant matter of figuring out how and where to meet eligible women. But then, on their first day in Serenity Bay, there one was, standing on his porch with a welcoming smile and a plate of really awful cookies. That had immediately been followed by a pizza dinner. Sharing a couple of pizzas with their teenage daughters was not a date. It was simply...a simple dinner. And still he’d managed to mess it up.
During the drive down the peninsula to Sechelt, he had to admit he’d listened shamelessly and with interest to the questions Kate asked Casey.
Did she help her mom at the store?
No. Sometimes Casey went there after school and sat in her mom’s office to do her homework, but working in the store was boring.
Did her father live in Serenity Bay?
No. He’d died. Jon already knew that.
Did her mom have a boyfriend?
No.
If Kate hadn’t already dropped a less-than-subtle hint about him asking her out, he would have thought it a strange question. Casey didn’t seem to think it was but she didn’t elaborate and Kate didn’t ask her to, so he couldn’t very well ask her to expand.
He left the seawall walkway and tried to maintain his pace as he ran back up the hill, turning onto his street, winded, perspiring and ready to take on a new day just as the sun lit up the eastern sky above the Coast Mountains. He still had plenty of time for coffee and a shower before Kate would be up and getting ready for school. He slowed to a walk as he approached his driveway, and pulled up the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat from his forehead. As he let it drop, he glanced at the house next door and was sure he saw a curtain flutter in a second-floor window.
He spent a couple of minutes stretching muscles that hadn’t had a decent workout in a couple of days. While he did, his thoughts remained on the woman next door.
Was she a morning person? Was she a runner as well? She was in great shape for someone who admitted to eating a lot of takeout. Maybe instead of asking her out to dinner, he should invite her to run with him in the morning. Running wasn’t a date, and if she said no, she still might accept an invitation to dinner.
“And you are way overthinking this,” he said, letting himself into the house, inhaling the aroma of newly brewed coffee and the cinnamon scent of whole-grain raisin bread. This weekend, he and his daughter had started a new life. Today he was starting a new job. The other firsts—whatever those might be—would happen in good time. And if a first date was going to be one of them, he had to apologize to Sarah for being a jerk and somehow convince her that he wasn’t.
* * *
SARAH PARTED HER office curtains just enough to watch her neighbor return from his run but not so much that he could see her watching him. His dark-colored knee-length running shorts revealed the muscular calves of an athlete, exactly what one would expect of a high school gym teacher and soccer coach who ran for half an hour in the morning. She’d been downstairs and had caught sight of him as he left and headed down to the beach, and from her deck, coffee mug in hand, she had glimpsed him running along the seawall. Impressive.
Impressive also came to mind as she watched him now through the narrow slit in the curtains. His light blue T-shirt hung loose over the shorts, sweat-darkened in places that emphasized just how fit he really was. And then he pulled up the hem and swiped it across his forehead, briefly revealing strongly rippled abs. Her breath caught, her insides started to hum, then the shirt fell into place and he was gazing up at her window. She took a hasty step back, still a little breathless, still humming, the vision of those delectable abs etched in her memory.
“Mom?” Casey was awake.
Sarah jolted, realizing she’d been frozen in time, one hand pressed to her chest as though that might slow her heartbeat, stop her heart from pounding through her rib cage. The sound of her daughter’s sleepy voice snapped her back to reality. She swung around, quickly turned on her desk lamp and picked up a file folder, fanning through the contents as though searching for something. She glanced up when her daughter appeared in the doorway in purple plaid flannel pajama pants and an old yellow sweatshirt.
“Good morning, sweetie. Excited about school starting today?”
“Yes, but kind of nervous, too. I mean, it’s high school. And Henry isn’t back so I’m kind of bummed about that. He and I always go together on the first day of school.”
Henry, whose family lived across the street, and Casey had been friends forever and they did have a lot in common—straight-A honor students, academically competitive, seasoned bookworms. Outside the classroom, though, their interests couldn’t be more different. Casey was athletic and crazy about animals. Henry was into photography and creative writing. He was also two inches shorter than Casey, and he was the only kid Sarah had ever met who could, and often did, trip over absolutely nothing.
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