by Gina Wilkins
“That’s good. Keep your options open.”
She gazed up at him, and her expression was suddenly so mature it took him aback. She’d been wearing contacts for the past three days, and combined with her new hair-style, she looked older than the little girl he still thought her. “Why didn’t you want to go tonight, Dad? Why did Meagan look funny when we talked about you? Actually, she wouldn’t talk about you much at all. She kept changing the subject. Did the two of you have an argument or something?”
“No, of course not. I told you, Alice, I had work to do.”
She frowned in disapproval at the prevarication. “It could have waited,” she said again.
He tugged at one of her curls, as he’d done when she was little and a simple, “Because Daddy said so,” was enough to satisfy her. “Just enjoy your friendship with Meagan, okay, sweetheart? That’s enough for now, isn’t it?”
“You seemed to really like her.”
“I do like her. But I also warned you against matchmaking. This just isn’t the time for that—not that any time is right for you to try to fix me up,” he added. “You’re going to have to leave that sort of thing to me.”
“If I leave it up to you, you’ll be an old man with a walker next time you get a date,” she muttered.
He couldn’t help laughing. “Hey! That’s not quite true.”
“Oh, right. Susan.”
Alice raised a hand, obviously intended to do her gagging routine again, but Seth caught her arm to forestall her. “I’m through working for tonight. I think I’ll have a cup of tea or something before bed.”
Even that random comment reminded him of Meagan, but he pushed the thought away. He would focus on his daughter—his little girl, despite her maturing appearance—for what was left of the evening. He had so little time left with her in the next few weeks—not to mention the rest of her life, he thought with philosophical wistfulness.
She wrapped both her arms around his right arm. “Maybe you’d like a little something to go with that cup of tea?”
“Yeah?” Walking with her toward the hallway, he turned off the office light behind them. “Like what?”
“Like the big slice of chocolate meringue cake—with yummy ganache—I brought you from Meagan’s house.”
His mouth started tingling again. “You brought me cake?”
Alice laughed. “Meagan insisted I bring you some. It was her idea. I left it on the hall table. But of course, if it’s too much of a commitment for you to eat a slice of her cake…”
“Brat.”
Alice giggled again and hugged his arm.
This, he thought in satisfaction, was enough. He had his daughter, his work—and a big slice of chocolate cake waiting for him. He was a very lucky man. Why should it feel as though there was still something missing in his life?
Two weeks after her visit with Alice, Meagan turned her car onto her street at just before seven o’clock. It was nice to be home a little earlier than usual. It was still quite light on this second week in June. Maybe she’d have dinner by the pool, maybe have a swim afterward.
The thought of her pool almost made her sigh. It would seem very quiet in her backyard by herself. She would almost welcome Waldo’s company.
Thirty minutes later, she sat at her patio table with a salad made of mixed greens topped with rotisserie chicken and mandarin oranges and drizzled with balsamic dressing. She had a glass of iced tea and a handful of whole-grain crackers to accompany the salad, and frozen yogurt bars for dessert later. She had changed out of her work clothes and into a sleek bathing suit topped with a short, sleeveless black cover-up with white piping. Flirty black flip-flops studded with faux jewels protected her bare feet from the sun-warmed, tinted concrete that made up the patio. Perhaps there was no one around to admire her appearance, but she’d dressed to please herself, thinking the sporty outfit would help lighten her inexplicably melancholy mood.
She wasn’t sad, she assured herself. Nor angry, nor particularly unhappy. She was just a little blue, and that happened to everyone at times, right? She was sure this lovely salad, followed by a leisurely evening swim, would be just the pick-me-up she needed.
She had just spread a yellow linen napkin over her lap when her attention was captured by a sound coming from the other side of the redwood gate that closed off her backyard. The gate was locked, she reminded herself. She was safe inside the enclosure—especially since her kitchen door was only a few leaps away, if necessary.
Something scratched again at the gate, and this time the sound was accompanied by a series of eager, demanding barks. Familiar barks, she realized with a groan. Quickly setting her napkin aside, she rushed to unlock the gate.
The moment he had an opening, Waldo pushed his way inside, leaping toward her, trying to reach her face for a slobbery lick-kiss. She caught him in midair, pushing downward. He’d grown considerably in the past couple of months, and was too big for her to carry easily now—not that carrying him had been easy the last time. “Down, Waldo. Sit.”
Showing off his obedience school training—which obviously only extended so far—he sat dutifully on the grass, tail wagging behind him, mouth spread in a big doggie grin. He barked once, as though demanding praise that he’d complied so well with her instruction.
“Good boy,” she said, then realized that she was the one performing on command. “How on earth did you get out of your fence again?”
But he wasn’t sharing that secret. He merely reached out to lick her hand, still sitting restlessly at her feet.
She knew Alice wasn’t home. She couldn’t tell by looking across the street whether Seth was there. She supposed there was only one way to find out. Taking a firm grasp on Waldo’s leather collar with her left hand, she stepped out of her backyard and closed the gate behind her with her right hand, leaving it unlocked since she didn’t intend to be gone long.
“Okay, Waldo, walk. Uh, heel.”
He tugged a little against her tight hold, but she didn’t let him get away. This would have been much easier with a leash, she thought, bending sideways to lead him down the driveway to the street. Fortunately there were no cars passing just then, so she was able to guide him across. He didn’t resist, which was a good thing. She pictured herself dragging him the rest of the way and grimaced in response to the ridiculous image.
Finally standing at Seth’s front door, she told Waldo to sit, which he did on the second repetition. “Stay,” she added, though she kept a grip on his collar while she reached up to press the doorbell.
He whined, but didn’t attempt an escape, to her relief.
She rang the bell a second time, then waited several moments before conceding in frustration that no one was inside.
Now what? She could put Waldo back into the fence, if the gate wasn’t locked, but he’d probably just get out again through the same escape route he’d used earlier. She supposed she’d have to take him back home with her and keep him inside her own fence until Seth came to collect him. She would call Seth as soon as…
But that thought was interrupted when Seth’s car turned into the driveway.
“That’s a relief,” she muttered, waving to make sure he saw her standing there as the garage door rose. Waldo lunged toward the car, but she managed to hold on to him, staggering a little before regaining her balance. “Sit!”
She almost imagined she heard a reluctant sigh from the mutt before he plopped his wriggling butt back down on the porch.
Moments later, Seth rounded the corner of the house to join them. “Don’t tell me he got out again.”
“I’m afraid so. I found him at my gate.”
“I hope you haven’t been waiting here long.”
“No, only a couple of minutes. I was just about to call you.”
“Thanks for rescuing him again. I’m sorry he keeps doing this to you.”
She smiled. “It’s only the second time. I’m just glad he hasn’t been hurt in one of his adventures.”
�
�Me, too. Alice would be heartbroken. Here, let me take him.” He reached out to grab the dog’s collar, and his hand lay for a moment against Meagan’s.
Their eyes met over the dog’s head, hands freezing on the strap of leather. Meagan was suddenly, acutely aware of her bare arms and legs in contrast to the tailored suit and tie Seth still wore from work. His gaze wandered momentarily, and she imagined he’d studied every revealed inch of her in that brief survey.
Her cheeks warming, she released the collar and straightened rather abruptly, resisting an impulse to tug at the very short hem of her cover-up. “I wonder how he keeps getting out,” she blurted.
Kneeling beside Waldo, Seth was now at eye level with her thighs. He cleared his throat. “I, um—not sure. I never found the way he got out last time. I just assumed Alice had left the gate open and it had swung closed behind him. It wasn’t locked then, but I would have sworn I left it locked this morning.”
“Maybe Jacqui left it unlocked, for some reason.”
“Yeah. Maybe she did, though I can’t imagine why she would have opened it. I’ll check when I put him back inside the fence. And I’ll do another walk-around to see if I can find a break anywhere he could be squeezing through. If I don’t find anything, I’m putting him in the garage for the night and calling a fence service tomorrow to have a professional take a look. Can’t risk the mutt getting hit by a car while Alice is gone.”
There was no reason for her to stay, but she lingered a bit longer to ask, “How is Alice? Is she having a good time in Europe?”
“She’s having a great time. She calls every day to tell me about everything she’s done and seen. It sounds as though Colleen is making a real effort to show Alice a good time. They’re really enjoying themselves.”
“I’m glad. I’m sure it will be hard for them to say goodbye at the end of their month.”
He shrugged. “Yeah. It’ll be rough. But this is the life Colleen wants and Alice has accepted that, I think. She’s a brave kid.”
“She’s very special. You’ve done a wonderful job raising her.”
“Thanks.” Though the single syllable was a bit gruff, she could tell he was pleased by the compliment. “I won’t take all the credit. Colleen was much more involved in Alice’s earliest years. She waited until she thought Alice was old enough to deal with it before she took off to pursue her own dreams.”
This was hardly the time or place for a conversation about Alice’s mother, Meagan told herself. She took a step toward the walkway. “Tell Alice I said hello, if you think about it. Good night, Seth.”
“Thanks again for bringing Waldo home.”
“You’re welcome.”
She walked down the steps, looking over her shoulder as she moved toward her own home. Something about the way Seth watched her leave made her steps falter a bit. He looked tired. And maybe a little lonely, or was she merely projecting that part? She could only imagine how much he missed his daughter.
“I was just going to eat a salad and take a swim,” she said on an impulse she didn’t try to resist. “Maybe you’d like to join me after you put Waldo away? I’ve always found swimming to be relaxing after a long day at work.”
He seemed surprised by the invitation, but maybe a little intrigued, as well? She couldn’t really tell.
Yet when he spoke, she could tell by his tone that he was going to decline. “Thanks, but I’ve already eaten. And I guess I’d better work on the fence tonight.”
She nodded. “All right. Good luck with that. See you, Seth.”
“See you, Meagan.”
She didn’t look back when she walked away, so she didn’t know whether he watched her leave.
She made a very deliberate effort to enjoy her now-slightly-limp salad when she returned to her patio table. The shadows lengthened around her as the sun slid downward at just past eight o’clock. It had been an especially hot day for mid-June and the air was still quite warm, though a slight breeze rustled leaves and brushed like comforting fingertips against her cheeks. A scarlet cardinal cheeped in a branch overhead and ruby-throated hummingbirds chittered and fought around the feeder hanging outside her kitchen window.
She had vowed during her medical leave to make more time for herself, for relaxing and enjoying her life, taking better care of her health and welfare. As easy as it would have been to fall back into her former routine of overworking and overscheduling, she saw this evening as proof that she had changed her ways—at least a little. Her worried mother would be pleased if she saw her now. Which reminded her that she needed to call her mom after the swim. And then she felt a little guilty because she knew her poor mother had little free time these days for relaxing by a pool.
Sighing, she told herself she was still getting the hang of this new “me-time” endeavor. She didn’t seem to be very good at it yet. She was still fretting about the things she should be doing, instead.
She stood and stretched, her gaze on the clear, sparkling water of the blue-lined pool. A few hard laps, followed by a warm shower and a cup of hot tea, would complete the relaxation regime she had prescribed for herself that evening. After a few hours sleep, she’d be back at work at six-thirty in the morning, bright-eyed and re-energized and happy to be back in the life she loved.
Or so she hoped.
Tossing her cover-up over the back of a chair, she kicked off her sandals and descended the steps into the pool. The water was just the right temperature, closing around her in a warm welcome as she kicked away from the steps to begin the first lap. She wasn’t trying to break any speed or endurance records. She swam in steady, even strokes from one end of the pool to the other, flipping and pushing away in practiced turns she had learned as a teenager.
She could have been on a swim team, she thought, her mind wandering as she sliced mechanically through the pool. She’d been a pretty good swimmer back then. But she’d been so focused on her studies in science and pre-medicine that she hadn’t wanted to take the time it would have required to be truly competitive as an athlete. She was glad that Alice was having a more well-rounded youth. She gave Seth credit for…
But no. Her strokes faltered, and she dipped awkwardly beneath the water for a moment before shaking her head and restarting her laps. She wasn’t going to think about Seth any more tonight, she told herself fiercely, pumping her legs more furiously. Alice, either. This was her “me-time.” She was going to enjoy it, darn it.
“Training for the Olympics?”
The wry question startled her so much that she stopped swimming—and promptly sank. She emerged sputtering, her heart pounding in alarm. “Wha—?”
Seth stood beside the pool, watching her with an expression on his face she couldn’t begin to interpret.
He’d changed, she realized, dropping her feet to stand in the shallow end of the pool. He wore a gray T-shirt and a pair of black board shorts with casual, slip-on canvas shoes. A navy and white print beach towel was draped over one shoulder. He had come prepared to swim.
“You startled me,” she admitted, wondering why he had changed his mind when he’d been so firm in declining her invitation.
He motioned behind him. “I was going to call out to you, but you left your gate unlocked. You shouldn’t do that, you know. Anyone could have walked in and caught you off guard.”
“I guess I forgot to lock it behind me when I came back in.”
That was such an obvious comment that she almost winced at the inanity of it.
“Um—where’s Waldo?” she blurted. And then wanted to sink beneath the water again at how foolish that sounded.
“He’s having his dinner. I think I found the place where he got out of the yard—he’d dug a hole beneath the higher side of the fence, which gave him just enough of an opening to squeeze through. I’ve blocked it solidly enough for tonight, and I’ll have someone come reinforce the bottom of the fence tomorrow.”
He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. He pushed them into the pockets of the loose
shorts. “I, uh, hope you haven’t changed your mind about me joining you. After I took care of Waldo, I decided a swim sounded pretty nice.”
“The invitation still stands,” she said quietly, meeting his eyes. “Come on in.”
He hesitated only a moment before tossing a set of keys on the patio table and then tugging his T-shirt over his head. And even though Meagan stood in a pool of water, her hair dripping behind her, her face wet from her swim, her mouth went dry.
She’d seen glimpses of his chest that night they’d made out like eager teenagers on her couch. But this was the first time she’d seen him without a shirt. It was a sight worth waiting for.
Without looking away from her, he descended into the pool. She stood her ground, watching as he waded to join her.
Stopping very close to her, he looked down at her body in her modest, but formfitting black maillot. And then his gaze lifted to hers again. “Meagan—”
She wasn’t sure who moved first. The water lapped against them as they melted into each other’s arms.
He’d tried to resist. He’d told himself it wouldn’t be fair to Meagan or himself to continue something that had little chance of success. He’d mentally argued that it was wrong to lead her on, when he had already come to the conclusion that there could be no real future for them. Even had he been looking for a permanent relationship—which he wasn’t, not at this point in his and Alice’s life—Meagan would not have been the obvious choice.
Hadn’t he learned the hard way that two driven workaholics could not successfully integrate a meaningful and permanent relationship into their hectic schedules? Especially when a child was involved?
Lasting relationships required full-time effort. Compromises. Sacrifices. Commitments. The same things he was already giving his daughter and his career. He just wasn’t sure he had anything left to give.
Except for tonight.
Remembering the way Meagan had looked at him when she’d invited him into the pool, he hoped that would be enough for her.
The kisses were hungry. Heated. But then slowed as both seemed to realize there was no need to rush. There was nothing else waiting for either of them just then. No one expecting anything from them.