Every journey starts with a single step…

ANNIE: The dandelion. Strong and determined, this widow has recently been promoted to vice president of her bank, so her life should be on the upswing, right? If only she could break the news to her former mother-in-law that she’d found a new man in her life….

VIOLET: The rose. Delicate and conservative, this retired teacher shares a wonderful relationship with her daughter-in-law, so why can’t things just stay the same? But if her strong convictions frown upon Annie’s new direction, what do they say about the new addition to the family…?

SUMMER: The bad tomato. Dumped on the doorstep of her do-good aunt, just how did a blond, cherubic eight-year-old transform into a Goth teen with a crush on black eyeliner? Annie’s niece is three miles of bad road, but then again, she’s never had the support of a loving and committed family until now….

Will these three women be able to bridge the generational gap and find the way home together?

Diane Amos

lives with her husband, Dave, in a small town north of Portland, Maine. They have four grown children, a finicky Siamese named Sabrina and an energetic miniature dachshund named Molly. Diane is an established Maine artist. Her paintings are in private collections across the United States. She is a Golden Heart finalist and winner of the Maggie Award for Excellence. For more information about Diane and her books, check out her Web site at www.dianeamos.com.

A Long Walk Home
Diane Amos

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Acknowledgments

Michelle Libby

Talented author and president of

the Maine chapter of RWA

Special thanks to:

Portland Police Officer Chuck Libby

for sharing information about

police procedure.

Any mistakes that I’ve made or liberties

that I’ve taken are completely my own.

Joyce Lamb

A talented author

critique partner

and

good friend

CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 1

“W hat, no chocolate cake!” the three of us said in unison to the waiter who’d announced the unthinkable before handing us dessert menus and retreating to the kitchen.

Mallory turned to Carrie and me. “Life’s a bitch.”

Carrie nodded. “Which is why I’m glad to have you two as my good friends.”

I had to agree. My friends kept me grounded, and life…well, had been filled with the unexpected. I’d learned long ago that nothing was as it seemed. And I never took anything for granted.

I drank a sip of my martini, lifted my glass to theirs and said with much dignity, “Life’s a bi-otch.”

Carrie giggled. “Since when are you so polite?”

I took another small swallow. I rarely drank, and when I did, I got dizzy on the fumes. “As the new vice president of the loan department at Portland National Bank, I must conduct myself with decorum.”

Mallory raised her glass and announced, “In honor of Ms. Annie Jacobs, our hoity-toity pal and Madame Vice President, ‘life is a bitch’ will forever be banned from our vocabulary and from now on be referred to as LIB.”

Carrie’s forehead wrinkled. “Huh, shouldn’t that be LIAB?”

“I took a little artistic license and dropped the A. Besides, LIB sounds better.”

For a moment Carrie pondered what Mallory had said. “You’re right.”

“I’ll drink to that,” I said as I polished off my martini, which had started out tasting like paint thinner—not that I knew that for a fact—and had improved with each swallow.

Our waiter, John, returned. He was tall, with a wiry build and dark hair. Thick eyelashes framed his sapphire-blue eyes.

Mallory smiled at the hunky guy who looked young enough to be her son—if she’d had a son. Neither of us had children, which suited us fine.

Children complicated matters.

They were messy.

And selfish.

Although I was happy with my life, something inside me stirred.

Disappointment?

Ridiculous.

I was thirty-seven—tick-tock—time had run out.

I’d gotten over the need to cradle a child in my arms. Plus, my chances of becoming a mother had died eighteen months ago along with Paul, my husband, the love of my life.

The man whom I’d thought could do no wrong.

But he’d betrayed me.

Mallory pointed a manicured finger at our waiter. “Since you don’t have double fudge chocolate cake, then I’ll have raspberry swirled chocolate cheesecake.”

He directed a killer grin at my friend.

I wasn’t surprised. At thirty-nine, Mallory Bourque was the total package, a blond male magnet with hazel eyes, big breasts, long legs and a great personality. If Mallory were a flower she’d be a gardenia, not because she was fragile, but because men wanted to tend to her needs. Mallory owned the Ooh La La, a specialty lingerie shop in the Old Port area of Portland, Maine.

“What about your friends?” he asked, unable to tear his gaze from Mallory.

By his dazed expression, I knew he was a goner. He wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last. By the time we got our tab, Mallory would have his phone number and the promise of a hot date. She preferred younger men, no strings attached. Just fun and games.

“I’ll have the chocolate cheesecake.” I could tell my words hadn’t penetrated.

Neither had Carrie’s, “Me, too.”

Talk about being invisible.

Mallory bowed her lower lip into a perfect pout. “They’ll have the same and bring us another round of drinks.”

He blinked a couple times, I suspected, to clear his head.

“Sure, be right back.” Then he forced himself to look away from the goddess who’d captured his heart—and if not his heart then surely his lust.

Carrie straightened her napkin over her knees and turned toward Mallory. “I’d have a meltdown if a man looked at me like that.”

“He is a cutie,” Mallory replied. “I wouldn’t mind having him for dessert.”

Carrie Hudson was thirty-five, five-three, always on a diet and a single mother of seven-year-old twin boys. Her blue eyes sparkled, and she blushed easily. She reminded me of a pink carnation. Resilient and pretty.

After my husband died, I’d eventually discovered I was like a dandelion. Not the prettiest flower, but strong, determined and, when push came to shove, I didn’t take no for an answer. There were worse things in life than being compared to a weed that persisted against all odds.

Every Friday evening after work, the three of us met at DiMillo’s, a car ferry converted into a floating restaurant known for its good food and ambiance on the Portland waterfront. Soon it would be too cold to be outside so we’d decided to sit on the top deck, enjoy the unseasonably warm September weather and watch the boats going by.

We always ordered a decadent dessert and drinks, which for me was usually a diet Pepsi, but tonight was special. I’d gotten the promotion I’d worked so hard for, and no one orders a Pepsi on such an occasion. So I’d decided to live dangerously and drink a martini. I wasn’t crazy about the taste, but I loved olives so I couldn’t lose.

Below us in the marina, cruisers and sailboats in their slips swayed as gentle waves washed ashore. The smell of salt, seaweed and fish permeated the air. In the distance seagulls cawed and a bell buoy clanged.

A light breeze ruffled my hair as I leaned back and thought with satisfaction about my promotion. I’d worked hard and deserved this. But a person didn’t always get what he/she deserved. I’d lucked out. My life was on a steep uphill path, and I’d equipped myself for the climb. Even my relationship with Tony was about to take a major turn. We loved each other. I was happy. Only now, I’d have to tell my mother-in-law, Violet, about him.

“Hey, why the long face?” Mallory asked.

“I was thinking about how everything is clicking into place, except…” I sucked in my lower lip, a bad habit I’d tried unsuccessfully to stop. “I’m meeting Violet tomorrow to break the news that Tony is moving in.”

“You’re an adult, and you don’t owe your mother-in-law an explanation,” Mallory pointed out.

“Yes I do. She’s been like a mother to me since my mom moved away. She’s the only family I’ve got. And I don’t want to hurt her, but I can’t put off telling her about Tony any longer. She’ll never approve of my seeing another man. And to her, we’ll be living in sin.”

Mallory rolled her eyes. “No one thinks like that anymore.”

“You haven’t met Violet. She’s a staunch Catholic and very old-fashioned.”

Carrie looked thoughtful. “Too bad you didn’t tell her about Tony months ago.”

“I tried, but each time I’d start to tell her, she’d interrupt and say something about Paul. She worships her son’s memory, and to hear her talk you’d think he died yesterday. She isn’t ready to hear I’m with another man.”

Mallory straightened. “Tell her what a jerk her precious son was.”

“I couldn’t do that to her.”

Carrie ran a finger over the condensation on the side of her glass. “This might be the wakeup call she needs to accept Paul’s death and go on with her life.”

“Maybe,” I said, doubting that would happen.

Violet would never give her blessing to Tony and me living together. Not that I needed her approval, but even before Paul’s death we’d formed a strong bond and a friendship that until now, I’d thought indestructible.

“My, don’t you look pretty this morning,” Vi said as she opened the kitchen and caught me in a tight hug; her mouth brushed my cheek.

I felt warm, safe and at home.

Surely she’d understand. If only I’d told her sooner. She had a right to know that her son’s widow had fallen in love with another man.

Panic swelled inside and threatened to cut off my breathing.

Vi reminded me of a rose, delicate and beautiful.

“You smell good,” I said amazed at how steady my voice sounded when she pulled away, took my hand and led me into the kitchen.

“My Avon lady gave me a few samples that I’m trying out. This one’s called Lilacs in Bloom. I’m thinking of ordering some. Nice, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” I put the box I’d been carrying on the table and untied the string. “I picked up a raspberry strudel at the bakery on my way over here.”

She filled the kettle with water and set it on the burner. While putting cups, spoons and napkins on the table, she smiled at me. “You’re always so thoughtful, and it means so much to me. I couldn’t wait for you to arrive. I have a special gift for you in honor of your new job,” she said, her gray eyes glowing with excitement.

Many women complained about their mothers-in-law, but I’d been blessed. Vi had been my rock, my strength, my family for years. Shortly before Paul’s death, my mother had remarried and moved to Texas with her husband. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about me, but she was immersed in her new life. We spoke on the phone several times a month and visited a couple times a year.

No one knew for sure where my sister Dana and her thirteen-year-old daughter Summer lived, but according to the postcard from California I’d received months ago, they were fine. Could I wire her some cash and please hurry because she was moving again? As soon as she’d found a job, she’d repay me, which I knew would never happen. Against my mother’s advice, I’d sent the money and an extra couple hundred dollars hoping against very slim odds that my sister would use some of it on my niece.

Vi looked so happy, so unaware of what I was going to say.

Guilt gnawed at my insides. She waved for me to follow her into her bedroom. She was nearing sixty, and when she smiled, which was rare, she looked much younger. Usually her mouth turned down, her brow furrowed and her eyes filled with grief.

I hated to cause her more pain. She’d already suffered too much.

As she crossed the room and opened a cedar chest, I noticed the pictures of Paul on her dresser. There was a cute one of him as a toddler playing in the sand, another on his graduation from college and several of us on our wedding day. Our smiles wide and our hearts full. When we’d believed love conquered all.

Vi reached way in the back of the chest and pulled out a small package. She turned, took my hand, and nestled a velvet box into my palm. “I’m sure you already know this, but I want to say again how much I love you. You’ve been like a daughter to me.” Her eyes misted. Blinking away tears, she reached into her apron pocket and blew her nose on a tissue. After sucking in a long breath, she continued, “I’d promised myself I wouldn’t get all mushy and sentimental, but you know how I am. If you and Paul had had babies, I’d planned to give you this in the hospital to enjoy for a while, then pass on to the next generation.”

As I cupped the box in my hand, a faint scent of cedar rose to my nostrils.

“Go ahead, open it,” Vi, said, looking happy. “I can’t wait to see your face.”

Positioning a finger on either side of the box, I lifted the lid and looked down at a beautiful emerald ring that I’d seen only once before on Vi’s finger on the day Paul and I said our vows. It had belonged to her mother. Vi had explained she’d kept it locked away in a safe-deposit box for fear of losing it.

“I can’t accept this,” I said, overwhelmed with emotion. Love and guilt consumed me. How could I tell her about Tony? How could I not?

“It’s a gift from me to you. The decision has already been made. You’ve worked hard to earn your promotion. I’m proud of you. My only regret is that I didn’t give you this ring a lot sooner.”

I was a traitor, about to send her world spinning out of control. I didn’t know what to say. My legs felt like rubber, shaky and about to give way. Before I could muster a coherent thought, the kettle on the stove whistled, and Vi ran out to pour our tea.

As if in a dream I walked into the kitchen, still clutching the box, stealing another glance at the precious green stone twinkling in the light coming through the window. I watched Vi slide generous pieces of strudel onto two dishes, felt my throat constrict with dread, felt perspiration on my palms as I sat and caught my breath.

“So aren’t you going to try it on,” she said indicating the ring. “I had it sized to fit your finger, but the jeweler at Day’s said if it needs to be adjusted to bring it back, and he’ll do it right away.”

I set the box down and met her expectant gaze.

Where to begin.

I wanted to explain how many times I’d come over here planning to tell her about Tony. I wanted to tell her how much she meant to me, but that would only postpone the inevitable. Fearing I might back down again and leave without telling her the truth, I knew I had to dive right into the subject. Or she might hear the news from someone else.

And that would be worse.

“I need to tell you something that might upset you.”

Worry etched deep lines around her mouth and eyes. “Are you sick?”

“No, it’s nothing like that.”

“Thank the good Lord. I don’t know what I’d do without you. What in heaven’s name is wrong?”

I paused and tried to choose the right words. “Nothing is wrong. As a matter of fact it’s good news. Sort of.”

Confusion clouded her eyes. “Now I’m really puzzled.”

“I’ve met someone. His name is Anthony Marino.”

She collapsed into the chair and heaved a sigh. I waited for the aftershocks to subside.

“I’d like you to meet him,” I said, my voice trembling. “You’ll like him. I think Paul would have liked him, too.”

“How long have you been seeing this Tony?”

I considered lying, but that would only compound the guilt of not having told her sooner. “Seven months.”

Her features twisted in disbelief. “Surely, it’s not serious, or you’d have told me about this man sooner.”

I curled my hands around the warm mug of tea, tried to steady my grip, tried to soften the impact.

I went for broke, no more skirting the issue. “He loves me, and I love him.”

“What about Paul?”

Paul’s dead.

Too blunt, too hurtful. I sucked in my lower lip and blew out a soft breath. “I can’t bring Paul back.”

“You mourned your husband for less than a year,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “How can you do this?”

She made it sound as though I’d cheated on her son.

I wanted to ask her how long I should mourn a man who’d betrayed me. I considered shattering her distorted image of her son, but I couldn’t do that to her.

“I was a good wife to Paul while he was alive. And I don’t want to live the rest of my life alone.”

Avoiding eye contact, she stared across the room. Tense silence stretched between us until I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

“I just need a chance to accept this,” she said, her voice hollow. “I know Paul is gone. I know we can’t bring him back. You’re young. You have a right to be happy. Maybe you’ll even have children. I could be their grandmother,” she said, a tinge of hope creeping into her tone.

Tony already had three children from his first marriage. He’d made it clear he didn’t want any more babies. I understood. Plus, I’d reached the point in my life where I no longer yearned to hold an infant in my arms and to watch my child grow: first steps, first words, being loved unconditionally.

At least I didn’t think I did.

“I’m a bit old to have babies,” I said, not wanting to lead her astray.

“You’re still young. Nowadays I can’t turn on the news without hearing of some actress having a baby in her forties. Lots of women are having children later in life. You could, too.” She sighed again and looked at me. “I apologize for overreacting a few minutes ago. I just never thought of you with another man. I can’t fathom seeing you with anyone but my Paul, but that’s silly of me.” She paused for a moment as if absorbing what she couldn’t change. “Maybe we can discuss your Tony in a few days after I’ve had a chance to think this through.” Her voice softened. “You and Paul were perfect together.”

I’d thought so, too.

We were far from perfect, only I didn’t discover that until after his funeral.

Vi reached across the table and took my hands in hers. “I don’t blame you for trying to find that close bond again. Give me a little while to think about this. I’m sure in time I can accept that you’ve found another man to love you. I certainly can’t blame you for wanting to get married again.”

I’d dreaded this most, but I’d come this far, it wasn’t time to back down. “Tony is moving in tomorrow, but we don’t intend to get married.”

Vi’s face flushed, and she pulled her hands away. She made the sign of the cross and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, I saw disbelief and shame.

“This is a disgrace to Paul’s memory.”

CHAPTER 2

T wo weeks later on my way home from work I stopped at the florist and arranged for a bouquet of red roses to be delivered to Violet. Since she was the most stubborn woman I’d ever met, I knew she wouldn’t make the first move. I’d missed her. I signed the card, Love, Annie. Now it was up to her to respond.

I pulled my white Volvo into my driveway next to Tony’s silver Porsche. I owned a modest three-bedroom cape in Gray, Maine, a small town on the outskirts of Portland. After Paul died, I’d used some of the money from his life insurance to re-decorate and try to wash away some of the painful memories. I’d moved out of the master bedroom and chose the smaller room which faced my backyard and my flower garden. I’d added a sunroom off the deck and invested in a hot tub, something I’d wanted for years but Paul had considered frivolous.

I’d felt a deep sense of power the day the hot tub had arrived. Although I suspected my purchase might have been partially an act of defiance, it was also a milestone: the day I started to take charge of my life.

Tony owned a house in Saco that he planned to rent on a month to month tenancy. Neither of us was willing to surrender our independence.

As I opened the kitchen door, the spicy smell of oregano and thyme teased my nostrils. Tony stood at the stove, his broad shoulders hunched as he stirred the pasta sauce. He turned and smiled at me. Due to the steam, a stray lock of his deep brown hair curled over his forehead. He hated that his hair waved, but I loved running my fingers through the thick, silky strands.

“How’s my Italian?” I asked, walking toward him for the kiss I craved. “I’m famished.”

“I’m horny.”

“What else is new,” I said with a laugh.

“You’re to blame, always giving me that ‘she-devil’ look.”

I laughed. “What you see is the look of a starving woman.”

“Starving, huh, in more ways than one, I bet.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“When it comes to you, I am,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. His lips claimed mine in a kiss filled with need and passion.

Tony pulled away a little and leaned his forehead against mine. “That’s some welcome. Say the word, and I’ll abandon this meal.”

“Not so fast, Bucko.” I playfully wrenched free. “What’s a woman gotta do around here to get fed?”

“She needs to stop seducing the cook,” he said with that crooked grin I loved.

I undid the top two buttons on my blouse and exposed a little of my white slip. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

“You’re a wicked tease,” he said, lifting his right eyebrow. “You’d better plan on tipping the help…if you know what I mean.”

“Incorrigible…”

“That’s because you’re a wanton sexy hussy.”

I glanced down at my gray pinstriped business suit. “I’d hate to think how you’d react if I were wearing a camisole and garters.”

“That’s an interesting premise. Go ahead, I dare you….” His smile deepened. His eyes darkened a few shades.

“I hate to disappoint you, but I was planning on changing into jeans and a flannel shirt.”

“You’ll look sexy no matter what you wear.” He picked up the wooden spoon and winked.

“Hold that thought,” I said as I turned and walked through the living room and into my bedroom.

In the short time we’d been living together, I’d come to enjoy the camaraderie. And the dynamite sex. More than lovers, we were friends. Tony made me happy.

We completed each other….

But I’d thought the same thing about Paul.

How could I trust my judgment?

The following Friday morning after a meeting, my administrative assistant Roberta greeted me. “Here’s a list of the people who called while you were out. The Thompsons are hoping to close early next week.”

“Please call them back and set up an appointment for Tuesday.” I took the tablet she handed me and glanced down. One name stuck out. Violet Jacobs. My heartbeat quickened.

“Thanks,” I said, hurrying into my office and shutting the door.

I braced myself as I punched in the number. Vi was a gracious woman. She wasn’t the type of person who’d call to argue or reiterate that I was a disgrace to her son’s memory. Though I was certain her opinion of my situation hadn’t changed, I was hoping we could get beyond that.

“The Jacobs residence, Violet Jacobs speaking.”

Violet had lived alone for years, since she’d ordered her cheating husband to leave, yet she’d insisted on answering the phone as though others resided in her house.

“Vi, it’s Annie.”

I heard her inhale a slow breath. “Annie, how nice to hear from you. The roses you sent are beautiful. How thoughtful of you.”

“I wanted you to know that I still care,” I said, swallowing back the knot in my throat.

“I’ve missed you, too. I was hoping you could come over for lunch tomorrow. Alone, just you and me…like old times.”

Clear and to the point.

Tony wasn’t welcome.

But I was willing to compromise. Plus, Tony had to work tomorrow. His architectural firm was preparing a bid on a new mall. “Yes, is noon good for you?”

“Perfect.”

We spoke for a few more minutes about incidentals: the rising cost of gas, oil heat and the weather. Once we’d exhausted topics of no importance, we hung up.

I spun around in my desk chair and while glancing out at the Portland skyline, I realized how much I’d missed hearing from Vi. I hoped tomorrow we could start to bridge the gap in our relationship.

Later that day I met Mallory and Carrie at DiMillo’s. The hostess led us to a table by a window. The light mist that had started falling that afternoon had become intermittent rain which now pelted the pane of glass. A raw, crisp wind stirred the ocean into choppy waves, causing boats in the harbor to sway on their moorings.

We sat down and took the menus from the hostess who filled our glasses with water. “Your server will be right with you.”

“Anything new?” Carrie asked me.

“I’m meeting Vi for lunch tomorrow.”

“That’s great,” Carrie replied.

“You keep up a strong front,” Mallory said. “Don’t let her make you feel guilty about wanting a life for yourself. There’s nothing wrong with you and Tony living together. You’re adults for cripes sake.”

“This isn’t about who’s right and who’s wrong. I want us to be friends.”

“What if that’s not possible?” Mallory asked.

I’d wondered the same thing. Would I have to choose between Tony and Vi? “Then I’ll deal with that, too.”

John, the waiter we’d had last week, walked past our table. He and Mallory exchanged searing glances as he hurried into the kitchen.

“Let me guess…” I covered my mouth with my right hand. “Something’s going on between you two.”

Carrie fanned her face. “Something hot, hot, hot!”

“And it’s a wonder I can still walk,” Mallory said with a low laugh.

Carrie shook her head. “I’d love to find a nice guy and settle down. But no one’s willing to take on the responsibility of a ready-made family.”

Mallory looked down at the dessert menu. “Men are afraid of getting married. But they’re always willing to move in for a week of fun and games, right, Annie?”

I was a bit irritated that Mallory would compare what I had with Tony to her fly-by-night encounters.

“Why are you asking me? I know nothing about sampling the flavor of the week.”

Mallory’s mouth curved into a wide smile. “Neither of you know what you’re missing.” She set the menu down. “Most men are terrified of commitment. They do a convincing song and dance about love and how you don’t need a piece of paper to prove how you feel. But it’s the same bull.”

What Mallory had said sounded very familiar, and it stung. True, I’d agreed with Tony: marriage was just a piece of paper, a certificate that bound two people together until the good times disappeared.

The concept of marriage was a farce.

It was far more sensible to live together and know that person was there because he/she wanted to be there, not because that piece of paper said they couldn’t leave.

It made sense, so why did I feel as though I needed to defend my live-in relationship? Plus, I certainly wasn’t ready for more than a bedmate—a sexy, turn my legs to mush, kissable bedmate.

Mallory turned to Carrie. “If you want a man, then pretend you aren’t looking for ‘the one.’”

“You mean lie?”

Mallory nodded. “I prefer to think of it as bending the truth a little.”

“I’m a mother so I have to project a certain image.”

“You need to loosen up,” Mallory said, her gaze following John as he took an older couple’s order several tables away. “Hmmm-hmmm, nice butt.”

“Not bad,” I said, tapping my fingernail against the water glass. “For a kid.”

Mallory’s hazel eyes sparkled. “John’s in his second year of college at the University of Southern Maine.”

“You’re kidding,” Carrie said, her cheeks flushing crimson.

Mallory uttered a deep laugh. “Before you call the cops on me, it’s not as bad as it sounds. He was in the navy for a while and went back to school. He’s thirty-one.”

“I don’t know if I could ever marry a younger man,” Carrie said.

“I don’t intend to marry him. Though I’d like him to stick around for a while. He’s very talented in bed.”

“That sounds awful, like you’re using him,” Carrie said, looking troubled.

Carrie was the more sensitive of my two friends. When it came to men, she was too nice, too willing to believe what they said. And she ended up hurt.

“We both know where we stand,” Mallory replied. “No one’s going to get hurt. And there’s nothing wrong with enjoying each other’s company. Especially when the guy is so yummy. Enough about me, how’s Tony?”

“We’re getting along really well. I was concerned I’d feel as though he was invading my space, but we have enough alone time that it isn’t a problem,” I replied.

Carrie took a sip of water. “I’m looking for someone really special, a man who’ll want to spend his spare time with me and the boys. Someone I can trust.”

“I think that breed is extinct,” Mallory said.

Carrie sighed. “I’m afraid you may be right.”

“Have you started to notice Tony’s little annoying habits yet?” Mallory asked.

“Nope, maybe he doesn’t have any.” I knew that would stir up Mallory.

“When you least expect it, you’ll start noticing the cap off the toothpaste, the butter left out on the counter, in the morning dirty dishes in the sink that weren’t there when you went to bed. That’s when I usually give the guy the heave-ho. And since there are no strings attached, it’ll be easy for you to move on, too.”

Mallory didn’t understand my relationship with Tony. We weren’t planning to get married, but both of us considered our relationship permanent. “He enjoys cooking for me,” I said. “And he brings me flowers every week. I see us growing old together.”

Mallory threw me a bright smile. “That’s always a possibility, but if it doesn’t work out, there are no strings. It’ll be a lot easier to move on to the next flavor of the month.”

After soaking in the hot tub and sharing a couple glasses of wine, Tony and I made love twice: first on the lounge in the sunroom, the rain beating down on the glass-paneled ceiling, our joining frantic and exciting. Overhead lightning arced across the black sky as thunder rumbled. Then Tony picked me up, walked into the house and laid me down on my bed. No rush this time, slow, thorough and breathtaking.

He’d fallen asleep shortly afterward, his arm wrapped around me, my head against his chest. I couldn’t stop thinking how fortunate I was.

My life was nearly perfect.

I’d dozed off and was awakened around three by the phone. Two rings and the answering machine picked up. Since I’d never gotten around to having a jack installed in this room, I hurried into the living room.

“Annie, it’s Mom.”

I grabbed the receiver, dropped it on the floor and scrambled to pick it up. “What’s wrong?”

I saw Tony coming toward me, clad only in a pair of dark boxers. He placed his hands over my shoulders, and I instantly felt stronger. Thank goodness he was here with me now.

“It’s your sister,” Mom said, between sobs. “They found her unconscious in a sleazy apartment complex in Los Angeles. She was rushed to the hospital. According to the doctor I spoke to a few minutes ago on the phone, Dana’s lucky to be alive.”

“What happened to her?”

“The doctor thinks it was a cocaine overdose, but he won’t know for sure until the blood tests are in.”

I’d never fainted in my life, yet suddenly I felt dizzy. I closed my eyes and reached for the back of the chair for support. Tony must have noticed because he stepped closer and pulled me tight against him.

“Who’s taking care of Summer?” I asked, concerned about my thirteen-year-old niece’s safety. I hoped she hadn’t seen her mother in that condition.

“The poor kid has been taking care of herself. I plan to catch a flight in a few hours, but I need to be close to Dana. Would you mind if Summer stayed with you for a while. A few days or a week?”

I hadn’t seen my niece in years, but I remembered her childish giggle, her freckled face and her pixie haircut. “Wouldn’t it be easier if I flew to L.A. and took care of Summer at her home?”

“I’m told your sister lives in a rough neighborhood with questionable roommates. I want my granddaughter far away from Dana’s so-called friends.”

“Sure, Summer can stay here until Dana feels better.”

“Good, I’ll call you as soon as I know more about your sister’s condition and when to expect Summer’s flight.”

“Tell Dana not to worry. Summer can stay with me as long as she needs to.”

CHAPTER 3

A fter two failed attempts to put the receiver back in its cradle, Tony took the phone from my trembling fingers and set it down. I told him what little I knew about my sister and my niece. Without warning, I burst into tears. He gathered me in his arms and rocked me against his solid chest.

Then he poured me a brandy and insisted I sit on the couch with my head against his shoulder. As I sipped the drink, his fingers traced slow lazy circles along my scalp, helping me to relax and finally doze off.

I awoke with a start to find the sun streaming through the slits in the closed blinds. “How long have I been asleep?”

“It’s almost six.” Tony yawned, freed his arm from beneath my head and stretched. “Will you be all right, or should I cancel going into work this morning?”

I appreciated his generous offer, but I knew how important the mall project was to his business. If he and his partner didn’t crunch numbers this weekend, their bid wouldn’t be ready by Monday. And as much as I’d have liked to have Tony with me, there was no need.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

He pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Are you sure? Earlier on the phone you looked ready to pass out.”

“I don’t know what came over me, but I’m back to my old self-reliant, tough-as-nails self.”

He hugged me tight against him. “That’s my Annie.”

I stood and grabbed a pad of paper from the desk and started making a list: chips and dip, drinks and teen magazines.

“What will I say to her? I won’t know what to do with a teenager.” I drew a large exclamation point behind the word magazines.

“She’ll only be here for a few days. Buy lots of pizza and plenty of junk food, set your television to MTV and don’t be surprised when your phone becomes an extension of her ear,” Tony said with a grin.

“She can talk on the phone all she wants… I’m sure she’ll need to stay in close contact with her mom. She’s my only niece, and this is my chance to help get through this difficult time. Knowing her mother’s a drug addict has to be rough. I want Summer to know I’m here for her, no matter what.”

To my list, I added pink bath towels for her bathroom. I suspected pretty things wouldn’t lessen Summer’s anguish, but I wanted to make her stay here as pleasant as possible. “I think I’ll go shopping and buy a new bedspread. She can take it home with her when she leaves. Maybe I should purchase a few CDs and how about a Nintendo?”

Starting toward the bathroom, Tony threw me a teasing look over his shoulder. “There’s an unwritten rule amongst teenagers to hate everything adults buy them. Why not get her a small gift for when she steps off the plane. Then make plans to go shopping together after she arrives. That way she can pick out exactly what she wants. There’s another unwritten rule so you’d best be prepared—all teenagers are experts at maxing out credit cards. So be warned.”

“In that case I’ll bring along lots of extra cash and hire a Brink’s truck to take us to the mall.”

“I like the way you think,” he said, disappearing into the bathroom, then poking out his head. “Depending on how long Summer stays, maybe I can persuade my daughter to show your niece around.”

His daughter, Chelsea, was fourteen and very popular. Most girls would love to be part of her crowd. “That would be great. Do you think she’d be willing to do that?”

He shrugged and uttered a deep laugh. “Only if she thinks it’s her idea.”

I’d called Vi earlier and explained that I needed to go shopping for my niece’s visit. She suggested we have lunch at the food court at the mall.

Vi slipped into the passenger seat of my Volvo. She leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I’m sorry to hear about your sister.”

“Me, too, but maybe this’ll make her realize she needs to make some drastic changes. I spoke to my mom this morning, and Dana is much better. My mother hopes to persuade her to go into rehab, if not for herself then for her daughter’s sake.”

“I’ll ask Father Thompson to keep your sister in his prayers.”

“If only that were all it took to turn Dana’s life around.”

“People change, dear,” Vi reminded me.

“I hope so.”

Dana had been through rehab two other times; once as a teenager, and three years ago. She’d refused to give up her friends, and within weeks of her discharge she was back to her old ways. “I’m glad you’ve come along because I’m going to need your help to pick out some truly special gifts for my niece. I was thinking of buying a few accessories for the bedroom she’ll be using, something frilly and girlish.”

“A visit with you is what that poor child needs.”

As I steered my vehicle into the mall parking lot twenty minutes later, I noticed Vi’s lips were pursed and her eyes filled with doubt. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if I dare say, dear.”

I parked the car and dropped my keys into my purse. “There’s nothing you can’t discuss with me.” Except for Tony. Let’s not ruin what little progress we’ve made.

Vi glanced down, toyed with the strap of her handbag.

“Your niece needs to be in a stable home with an adult she can emulate.”

Her worried gray eyes met mine. “Thirteen is such an impressionable age, and up until now, she hasn’t had a strong role model.”

I sucked in my lower lip. What was she getting at? “I plan to help Summer any way I can. I still have a few vacation days left, and Monday I’m going to call my supervisor and explain I have a family emergency and need to take a few days off.”

“That’s nice dear, but…what about Tony?”

“What about Tony?” I braced myself for what she’d say next.

She reached over and pressed her hand over mine. I felt a slight tremor in her fingertips. “What will that poor child think when she discovers her aunt is living with a man without being married? What kind of message will you be sending her?”

“These are different times and people think nothing about couples living together.”

“In my day we called it shacking up.”

“We don’t call it that anymore.”

Vi was quiet for a moment. “I won’t say any more about this matter. It’s clear we’ll never agree, and I don’t want to cause a greater rift between us. It’s your decision to make. Be sure you aren’t making a mistake.”

I wonder what was best for my niece. But then, Tony had experience with girls Summer’s age. He might be able to provide some insight on what I should do. In the past few months I’d grown to depend on him and value his opinion.

“I’ll discuss this with Tony and see what he thinks.”

True to her word, Vi didn’t pursue the matter. She opened the door, swung her feet out, and threw me a brittle smile. “I’m ready to do some serious shopping. Are you?”

“You want me to move out.” Tony’s voice was louder than usual—close to shouting.

“No, I don’t want you to go, but I’m wondering whether you’d want to leave…just while Summer is here.” When he’d explained he didn’t want any more children, he’d said I was free to do what I wanted but if I babysat a friend’s kids, he’d make himself scarce. So I expected he’d be relieved at my offer.

“And where am I supposed to go?”

“To your house, of course.”

He inhaled a ragged breath. “I didn’t have time to tell you my good news yesterday. I found someone to rent my house, and my tenant moved in today.”

“Oh…”

“You spend one afternoon with that old bag, and I’m already heading out the door.”

I hated that he referred to Vi that way, but in a way I couldn’t blame him. He’d expected her to greet him with open arms. “This has nothing to do with Vi.”

“Of course it does. And that’s why I’m upset. That old lady has you by the throat, and she’s squeezing hard. You’re an adult. You shouldn’t bow down to what your ex-mother-in-law thinks is inappropriate for the kid.”

The muscles in my neck cramped. “I’m worried about Summer and the influence Dana’s had on her. Summer will be here for such a short while, and I want her to be able to open up. If you’re here, she’ll be less likely to come to me. I’m sorry. I know this isn’t fair to you.”

After a moment, he said a bit begrudgingly, “All right. I don’t want to stand in the way of you helping your niece. This means a lot to you.”

“You mean a lot to me, too, but this is an emergency. Under other circumstances, I would never ask you to go.”

After a moment the hard planes of his face softened. He reached for me, rested his hands on my shoulders. “You’re right, of course. Your niece needs to come first.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Thanks. I want Summer to get to know you.”

He grinned. “You aren’t afraid I’ll corrupt her?”

“Never, you’re a great guy, the best.”

“I’m sorry if I gave you a hard time about this. Before you got here, I’d been thinking much along the same lines. Just knowing that Violet wants me out of your life put me on the defensive. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d won. But this isn’t about her and me. It’s about your niece, and I want what’s best for the kid.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

“I don’t want to be away from you for even a few days. But I’ll move out first thing tomorrow morning. When you return from the airport, I’ll be gone.”

“Thank you. Where will you stay?”

He sent me the crooked grin I loved. “At the Holiday Inn in Portland. That way if you decide to visit wearing a skimpy maid costume, you won’t have far to drive.”

This was the Tony I knew.

And loved.

“What do you think?” I asked Tony, surveying my handiwork.

“Any girl would be happy with this room.” He set down the television he was carrying on the cedar chest that I’d moved against the wall across from the bed. He plugged in the portable DVD player I’d bought for Summer so she could have some privacy while she was here, especially if Tony’s daughter and her friends came to visit.

I glanced at my watch again and noticed only ten minutes had elapsed. My stomach felt queasy. The last time I’d seen Summer, she’d been eight, a freckle-faced angel who giggled at everything I said. She’d squealed with delight at the doll and the tea set I’d bought her. By the way her voice had rung with excitement at doing simple things like feeding fries to the seagulls on the wooden pier at Old Orchard Beach, and playing skeet ball, and going on rides, you’d have thought she’d never been to an amusement park. But according to Dana, she had.

Summer’s visit had been too short. I’d catalogued our time together under special memories and thought of my niece frequently.

What was Summer like now?

Was she into drugs?

I hoped not, but the possibility existed. What had become of the happy child left to fend for herself in the worst possible environment?

“I can’t wait to see her again,” I said to Tony who’d finished hauling up my purchases.

“Summer is one lucky kid to have you for an aunt.”

“I hope she feels that way, too.”

“Even my daughter would love these CDs. So a kid who hasn’t had much of anything should be ecstatic.”

“I hope so.”

He took my hand and led me down the stairs into the bedroom we shared. I watched him fold a few pairs of pants and several shirts and stack them into a duffel bag he’d put on the bed. “I’m only taking a few things. Keep my side of the bed warm, I’ll be back in a few days.”

Vi and I arrived at the Portland Jetport half an hour early. On the second floor, a glass wall and security guards prevented us from going farther so we waited near the glass door where we’d see Summer the instant she walked through.

“Thanks for coming with me,” I said.

“I wouldn’t have missed it. The poor child needs lots of support. I’m here for you and for her.”

I checked my watch once more. Only five minutes had gone by since the last time I’d checked.

Vi held her purse in one hand and a purple gift bag in the other, containing a small stuffed moose with the word Maine embroidered on its belly.

I carried a small brightly wrapped box tied with a red bow, which contained the charm bracelet I’d bought. I’d spent way more than I’d intended. At first I’d gone to the jewelry store wanting to buy a silver bracelet, but the gold ones had looked so much nicer. Since I only had one niece and no children of my own, I’d decided to splurge.

I hoped our gifts would help to cheer up Summer.

Some time later a group of passengers started toward the glass doors. I spotted a pretty blond girl at the same instant as Vi.

“Is that her?” Vi asked.

“I don’t know.” I waved a small card with the name Summer.

The girl looked at me blankly right before she was greeted by two people who could have been her parents.

I kept a watchful eye on the door. Several guys with Bates College lettermen jackets walked out, an older couple, a few businessmen with briefcases and a mother and a toddler pushing a stroller.

I’d begun to worry that something was wrong when a strange-looking girl appeared. Her short hair was dyed black with a red stripe along one side of her head. White makeup covered her face, and her eyes were ringed with black. She wore a dark, wrinkled shirt with holes at her elbows, and a black skirt that skimmed the top of scuffed army boots. Her ears, eyebrows, right nostril and her lower lip were pierced, her mouth traced in black. In her hands she carried a partially filled trash bag.

I waved the card. When she started to walk toward us, I prayed this wasn’t Dana’s child and instantly felt remorse.

“Summer?”

“’Fraid so.”

I reminded myself to breathe. “We’ll go collect your luggage.”

“No need. Got everything right here,” she said, indicating the plastic bag she was holding.

Vi spoke up, and I introduced them. “Summer, how nice to finally meet you,” she said.

“Whatever,” Summer replied.

I spotted a large silver bead on her tongue.

Reaching around her thin shoulders, I gave her a hug, but she stood stiff and unyielding.

“I was starting to worry you’d missed your flight.”

“Wouldn’tcha know, I was the last one allowed to leave the plane. The dude sitting next to me said I’d stolen his wallet. Come to find out the idiot forgot he’d put it in his backpack.”

CHAPTER 4

A s we walked across the street and entered the parking garage, I smiled and tried to make conversation with Summer, who dragged her plastic bag along the pavement and kept her gaze riveted on her boots that looked several sizes too large.

“Are you tired, or would you like to go somewhere? The mall isn’t far from here, and I have a credit card that’s begging to be used.”

She grunted out an impatient sound that was neither a yes nor a no. I chalked up her behavior to exhaustion—and being worried about her mother. I decided to make the most of our short while together. I’d concentrate on the positive and ignore…everything else.

If Summer were spending more time with me, I’d have loved to do something about her clothing, her hair and her makeup. Was that even makeup? Why would such a pretty child want to cover her face with white goop and outline her eyes and mouth in black?

Ghoulish.

Another pang of remorse struck me.

Summer needed my understanding, not criticism. Yet it was difficult to glance at her for even a few seconds without wanting to help transform her—to change everything from the tip of her head right down to her boot-clad feet.

I needed to accept her the way she was.

But could I?

Determined to do my best, I said, “If you’re hungry, we can stop to get a bite to eat.”

“That’s a fine idea. I wouldn’t mind stopping for a piece of pie. How does a burger and some fries sound to you?” Vi asked my niece in a hopeful tone.

Summer’s downcast eyes never wavered. A moment later she gave a halfhearted shrug and bobbed her head from side to side, which I took to mean she wasn’t hungry—or she might be. Since I didn’t want to press the issue, I decided to offer her a sandwich once we arrived at my house.

I tucked the small box with the charm bracelet into my purse, planning to give it to her at a better time.

Would there be a better time?

Communication between us could only improve.

As we neared my Volvo, I pressed the remote to unlock the doors. I started to reach for Summer’s plastic bag but her fingers tightened their grip.

“Would you like to put your things in the back?”

She shook her head and yanked the bag close to her legs as though afraid of losing her few possessions. I smiled reassuringly, but I doubt she noticed because she was too busy examining the ground by her feet.

Violet extended the gift bag beneath Summer’s downcast eyes. “I bought you a welcome to Maine present.”

Summer glanced warily at the package before grabbing the bag from Violet’s hand, and without even glancing inside, shoved it into her plastic bag.

No “thank you” from this kid.

I admonished myself for having such petty thoughts. Summer’s mother was in the hospital. I shouldn’t be focusing on her appearance and poor manners.

Maybe it was a good thing I’d never been blessed with my own children. A fleeting pang of regret twisted inside.

Violet opened the front door and stepped aside so Summer could enter. “If you’d like, you can sit up front with your aunt. I don’t mind the back seat.”

The child hesitated. I’d expected either no reply or another shrug. Instead, Summer lifted eyes filled with contempt. “Stop trying to pretend you’re both so happy to have me here.” Had her voice not broken I might have missed the fear beneath the tough facade.

For a moment I saw a vulnerable little girl afraid of being hurt again, afraid of being left with strangers, afraid of being abandoned by a mother who’d let her down.

The helpless look vanished when Summer sneered. “I see right through you. Well, I’m not any happier to be stuck here with you two than you are with me. I’ll be out of this frigging hick state as soon as my mother comes for me. So till then, let’s cut the goody-goody crap.” Tears rimmed her eyes.

“Oh, Summer, you’re wrong about that….” Wanting to comfort my niece, I stepped closer and reached for her shoulder, but she retreated with a warning glance. As I lowered my hand, I wondered how I’d be able to help her when she clearly didn’t want me near.

Violet gasped, shock rippling over her features. “I don’t mind saying your speech leaves much to be desired. You have a lot of changes to make if you ever hope to grow into a fine young lady.”

“If being a fine young lady means acting like a prissy old bitch, I’ll pass.” Satisfaction danced in Summer’s teary blue eyes as she swung her glance from Vi to me and back to Vi.

As if they had a mind of their own, the fingers of my right hand jerked up and sliced across the air. I caught myself just in time, or I’d have slapped Summer’s face. I’d come damn close. Too close. Shame rushed through me. Heat rose to my cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean that. I would never hit you.”

A knowing smile curved Summer’s lips. “Yeah, right.”

Violet’s jaw hung open for a moment before she snapped her mouth shut and slid onto the front seat.

I knew Summer had chosen her words for shock value.

She’d succeeded.

She’d insulted Violet.

More important, what was wrong with me? Until now, I’d never come close to hitting anyone. I’d have a long talk with Summer later. That way I wouldn’t be reprimanding her in front of Vi. Then I’d apologize to her again for losing control. Maybe I could persuade her to apologize to Vi.

Like that was going to happen any time soon.

I sent Vi a rueful look. She patted my hand and whispered, “Don’t worry about it, dear.”

A new wave of shame washed over me as I realized I couldn’t wait for Summer to leave.

Summer’s stony gaze pierced right through me as she scooted into the back seat and slammed the door.

I longed for the sweet young girl she’d been and the closeness we’d shared years ago.

I rounded the front of my car and slipped inside. No one spoke as I maneuvered the vehicle onto the Maine Turnpike and twenty minutes later took the Gray exit. I dropped off my mother-in-law first. As I continued toward home, I could hear Summer sniffing behind me. In the rearview mirror, I watched her wipe away tears from her face with the back of her hand. Trails of pale flesh crisscrossed her thick white makeup. Summer resembled a young child at Halloween, who’d discovered too late that her bag of candy had a hole in it.

If only her problems were that simple.

No matter what Summer said or did, I’d be patient with her. Surely I could handle being with my niece for a few days.

I vowed again to do my best to look beneath the surface and find the child I remembered.

And loved.

Tony’s Porsche pulled into my driveway three hours later. Relieved to see him stroll up my walk, I opened the door and rushed outside to meet him. My cardigan sweater fluttered in the cool evening breeze. As I reached up to brush a dark strand of hair that had fallen over his forehead, he pulled me against him. My arms circling his neck, I absorbed his warmth and his strength, my pent-up emotions and stress forgotten for a moment as his mouth came down on mine.

“How about we slip into the back seat of my car for a quickie,” he murmured against my lips.

I chuckled. “There’s no backseat.”

“I’ll make do.”

“I bet you would.” I moved away and, taking his hand, led him inside the house. “Thanks for coming over. I could really use some advice.”

“Has your niece come out of the bedroom yet?”

“No, not even to eat supper.” I worried my lower lip, not caring that my bad habit showed lack of confidence. When it came to Summer, I had no idea what to do, what to say, how to act.

Tony released my hand and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “She’ll come down when she’s hungry enough.”

“I guess so. How’s your room at the motel?”

“Nothing special. Thankfully it’s only for a few days.”

“A few days could be a very long time. I’m in way over my head. What do I know about talking to a teenager?”

He kissed the tip of my nose. “You’ll do fine, and if you have any questions, I’m only a phone call away. Also, I spoke to Chelsea. She thinks hanging out with someone from Los Angeles would be cool.”

“That’s great.” If nothing else it would give me some time away from Summer. Guilt flowed through me. If they gave out an award for the worst aunt of the year, the trophy would be sitting on my mantel.

Tony crossed the room and opened the glass door to the cabinet where I stored a few bottles of wine and brandy. “Would you like a glass?”

“Sure.”

He poured white merlot into two glasses and after handing me one, sat on the couch. I lowered myself next to him.

“How did you get your daughter to agree?” I asked.

“I told Chelsea I’d finance a shopping spree to the mall if she volunteered to introduce your niece to her friends tomorrow after school.”

In our short phone conversation, I hadn’t had a chance to explain that Summer was…well…a bit different. “Summer wears a lot of makeup,” I said, realizing this was an understatement.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “So does Chelsea…when her mom isn’t looking. The last time I picked Chelsea up she looked like a raccoon with her eyes lined in black.”

“She wears heavy army type boots.” Probably to kick the butts of unsuspecting old ladies.

Tony laughed. “You worry too much. All teenagers experiment with clothing. For months last year my daughter wouldn’t go out the door without her oversized camouflage jacket she’d purchased for two bucks at Goodwill. She resembled an emaciated hunter.”

Was Tony right? Was I overreacting?

“How about I sneak back in tonight after everyone’s asleep?” he asked, kissing the side of my face.

I knew he was joking, but the idea was appealing. “I’m tempted. What would you say if I asked you to get your suitcase and move back in tonight?”

“I’d be a selfish cold-hearted bastard not to give you the time you need with your niece.”

I’m sure he was right. Yet I was disappointed because he hadn’t jumped at the opportunity.

“Hey, why the frown?”

Before I could reply, I heard a commotion in the backyard and the sound of splintering wood. I dashed outside with Tony at my heels to find Summer scrambling to her feet, the trellis that had been secured to the side of the house in pieces on the ground, several vines to my climbing roses torn.

“Are you all right?” I asked, hurrying to her side, reaching for her.

Summer flinched away. “Yup.” She lifted her long skirt and brushed dirt off her black nylons, which had holes in the knees.

In the dim light I saw that she’d applied a fresh layer of white makeup.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Instead of using the door like a normal person, she’d tried to climb down the trellis. Where was she going? Was she running away? Since I didn’t spot her black plastic bag, I assumed she’d planned to climb back up later.

“Oh, this is Tony,” I said and saw the disbelief on his face. My stomach twisted nervously.

After a pause, his mouth curved into a crooked grin.

Much to my surprise Summer smiled back. “Is that your set of wheels out front?”

“Yes.”

“That’s cool.”

“Thanks.”

“Can I start her up?”

Silence followed.

Indecision streaked across Tony’s face.

“That’s Tony’s pride and joy,” I said. I understood his reluctance, yet I was still a bit irritated that he hadn’t replied yet.

She waved a hand weighed down with rings. Blunt, black polished fingernails sliced through the air. “I don’t care anyway.”

But she did. And because of that it mattered to me, too.

“Well,” I said with my best smile directed at Tony. “Hand over the keys so Summer and I can listen to the purr of the engine.”

“An engine like that wouldn’t purr. It would growl, right Tony?” Summer added. “So can I start her up?”

For a moment, I thought he’d refuse.

He dug in his pocket and threw her the keys. “Be gentle.”

Her fingers swiped the keys, and she threw him another smile. “Cool.”

In that instant I loved Tony more than I’d thought possible. If he’d asked me to marry him, I’d have agreed.

Until now, Summer had dragged her feet when she walked. She ran past me and raced through the house, the heels of her heavy boots thumping on the hardwood floor, as she dashed out the front door. I’d barely caught up with her and dropped into the passenger seat when the engine roared to life.

From the doorway, I spotted a worried Tony watching our every move. I couldn’t blame him, but relinquishing his keys had been the ultimate sacrifice. I appreciated what he’d done, and I’d certainly tell him so later.

“This is the coolest car I’ve ever sat in.” Summer turned on the CD player and immediately shut it off, silencing Tim McGraw. “How can anyone stand listening to that crap?”

I liked country music, but I wasn’t about to admit to such depravity. This was as close as I’d come to having a civil conversation with Summer. “That music isn’t so bad.”

Summer rolled her eyes. “If I had a car like this, I’d be the most popular kid in L.A.” She fiddled with the radio until she found a heavy metal station and turned up the volume so loud I felt the bass pulsating around me.

“Do you think he’d mind if I backed it up a few inches in the driveway?”

Tony had left the doorway and stood near his car, wringing his hands.

“Mind? He’d go crazy.”

She threw me a knowing glance and laughed, her smile directed at me.

My heart skipped a beat. She’d let down her guard, and I hoped that was a sign of good things to come.

“I’d sure love to take it around the block,” she said, wistfully.

“Maybe if you had a permit.”

“Yeah, as if.”

“You’re right.” If it were my car, I’d let her.

A moment later Summer turned off the ignition, swung the door open and threw Tony his keys. “Thanks.”

She’d thanked him.

More progress.

“I was thinking of heading out for pizza. Would you like some?” he asked.

“Sure, can I come?”

He threw me a questioning glance, and I nodded approvingly.

“Only if you promise not to play your music,” he said, a strained, crooked grin in place.

They returned some time later with two large pizzas, a liter of Pepsi and a bag of vinegar chips. I knew instantly that something was wrong.

Tony slammed the boxes down on the counter and disappeared into the bathroom.

Summer took a paper plate I’d set on the table, loaded it with pizza and chips.

“Mmmm-mmm, vinegar chips are my favorite,” I said, taking one from the bag.

She rolled her eyes, shrugged, poured herself a glass of Pepsi and, grabbing her plate, charged up the stairs. At least she wouldn’t starve.

She’d no sooner slammed the bedroom door shut when Tony entered the kitchen.

“What happened?” I asked.

“That kid has a fresh mouth.”

Tell me something I don’t already know. “She’s had a rough life.”

“That’s no excuse for her to call me an uptight prick.”

Here I’d thought we were making progress. “Why’d she say that?”

“Because she wanted to?”

Which didn’t tell me a thing.

Not that I’d have taken Summer’s side, but I needed to understand. Should I press for details or wait until he’d calmed down?

I wrapped my arms around his waist. “She’s here for only a few days. I need you two to get along.”

His voice softened. “I’ll try, but that might not be possible.”

Though disappointed, I appreciated his honesty. “What set her off?”

His muscles tensed under my touch. “Are you taking sides?”

“No, just trying to understand.”

“There’s no understanding that kid. She’s rude. It’s as simple as that.”

“What were you talking about when she got upset?”

Tony pulled away, walked toward the sink and poured himself a tall glass of water. He drank half, turned and leaned against the granite countertop. “I was trying to get through to her, but she wasn’t having any of it. I told her how much work you’d done to make her stay special. The least she could do is show a little appreciation and not give you a hard time.”

“I don’t need you fighting my battles.”

“I know that. I was only trying to help.”

“Is that when she called you—”

“She didn’t say a word, instead she stared blankly out the window. Before I went inside to get the pizza, she asked if I could leave the engine running so she could listen to the radio. Of course I refused. I was afraid to come out and find her gone.”

“I certainly understand.”

“When I returned a moment later with the food, she was hunched against the seat, pouting. Thinking it would make her feel better, I pointed out that no one but me drives the Porsche. Not even you.”

That news didn’t settle well. “Does this mean you wouldn’t let me drive your car if I asked?”

“No, of course not.”

But there was enough doubt in his tone to make me wonder.

“So when exactly did Summer start calling you names?”

“Right after she found out you’d never driven my Porsche.”

“It sounds as though you think more of that damn car than me.”

“I never knew you wanted to drive my Porsche.”

“I didn’t…but now I do. Very much.”

“Then let’s go for a spin.”

This was silly. I really didn’t care about driving his car.

It was the principle.

Plus it had a stick, and I was no good at shifting.

I had to be sure he trusted me with his precious car.

He took his keys and slapped them into my palm.

I had my answer. I grabbed the keys, but after a few seconds, I handed them back to him.

He shook his head. “I thought we were going for a ride.”

“I just needed to know you’d let me drive your Porsche. I feel better now.”

When he nabbed the keys, his fingers captured mine. “Nothing is more important to me than you.”

“Not even your Porsche?”

“Let me think about that for a minute,” he said with a teasing grin.

I reciprocated with an elbow to his ribs. But it was all in jest. Because he’d proven to me that I mattered most.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder—would he still have been smiling if I’d really taken his pride and joy for a ride?

We sat and ate pizza, discussed my job and his. He wouldn’t know for another week whether his firm got the bid for the mall. It was almost midnight when he stood to leave. I walked him to the door and leaned against him.

We held each other and kissed.

“Last chance for that quickie in the back of my car,” he whispered into my ear.

I sighed. “There’s not enough room.”

A deep sexy laugh rumbled from his chest. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

CHAPTER 5

A round midnight, wearing my comfy flannel nightgown and slippers, I crept up the stairs and listened outside my niece’s bedroom. Silence. My gut wrenched. Was Summer sleeping or had she escaped through the window?

How would I explain to my mother that I’d lost her granddaughter?

As I imagined all sorts of gruesome possibilities, I pushed the door open and was relieved to see her curled up in bed. I tiptoed across the room. The light from the bathroom slanted across the bed. I saw wet bath towels on the tiled floor beside the tub.

Typical teenager. Didn’t pick up after herself.

This revelation gave me hope.

Along with the fact she’d removed her makeup and looked less intimidating. She sighed softly. I wanted to sit next to Summer and take her into my arms. But I didn’t dare wake her.

Such a pretty girl.

Yet so confused.

As I admired her long eyelashes sweeping her tear-streaked face, I noticed her right hand curled under her chin, fingers clutching the little moose Vi had given her. I spotted part of a plastic bag sticking out from under the sheets and the ribbed neck of the oversized bright yellow nightgown I’d bought for her.

When I’d picked Summer up at the airport, I instantly regretted purchasing the nightgown and had never expected her to wear it.

A child of contradictions.

I’d also selected several T-shirts, which were no longer on the bureau. Had she tucked those into her bag? Compassion swelled in my chest for my niece who felt she had to guard her possessions.

I bent and brushed my lips against her cheek that smelled like Ivory soap. I considered turning off the bathroom light but remembered that at eight years old, she’d insisted on leaving a light on while she slept.

Summer put up a tough front, but inside, I suspected she was still a frightened little girl.

I’d need to remember that tomorrow, if confronted by the angry teenager clad in black, her face masked in white.

The next morning, determined to get reacquainted with my niece, I jumped out of bed, threw on jeans, a T-shirt and slid my feet into my slippers. I called my supervisor and explained I’d need some time off due to a family emergency. Once I’d taken care of that, I checked with the hospital to see how my sister was doing. The nurse in charge let me speak to my mom.

“Hi, how’s Dana?”

“She’s doing much better, but she’s suffering from malnutrition.”

“Will she be all right?”

“The doctor says she’s had a close call. She might not be so lucky next time.”

“I wish I could be there with her.”

“I know that, dear. How’s Summer?”

“She’s still sleeping. We had a bit of a rough start yesterday, but I’m certain we’re going to get along fine.”

“That’s a relief. Say hi to her for me.”

“Will do.”

“What’s the phone number to Dana’s room? The woman at the switchboard wouldn’t give it to me. I’m sure Summer will want to talk to her when she wakes up.” I’d hoped speaking to her mom would ease Summer’s worries, and maybe lessen the strain between us.

“To be perfectly honest, Dana doesn’t want to deal with Summer right now. Your sister needs to focus on herself and getting well. I hope you understand.”

I didn’t. “Dana has focused on herself for her entire adult life.

My mother issued a low groan. “Don’t be too hard on your sister. She has her faults, but right now, she needs our support and understanding.”

My sister needed someone to kick her butt, but we’d never agree. “Tell Dana that Summer and I send our love.”

“I’ll do that. I’ll call you tomorrow. Take care.”

“You, too. Bye.”

I hurried into the kitchen and took down the pancake mix from the cupboard, measured out two cups into a bowl and added milk and eggs. I took out my frustration by beating the mixture by hand. I knew that Dana was weak, but I couldn’t understand her not wanting to talk to her own daughter. It was the epitome of selfishness. Not only had Dana chosen drugs over Summer, but she’d also turned her back on her child when Summer needed her the most.

The scrape of heavy boots against the tile floor heralded Summer’s arrival.

I turned to greet her. “Good morning.”

She’d hidden her face with white makeup and painted tiny black stars at the corners of her eyes lined with black. I inhaled a fortifying deep breath. Nothing today would mar my good, positive mood. Well, except for Dana’s selfishness. Today I’d break the hardened shell Summer had erected around herself. Today we’d become friends.

Picturing the lost little girl I’d seen curled in bed last night, I gave her a bright smile. “I just got off the phone with your grandma. Your mom is feeling much better this morning, but she has strict orders to rest so we can’t call her. Maybe tomorrow you’ll be able to talk to her.”

“Whatever,” Summer said, waving her hand, her frown deepening.

“I’m sure your mom misses you a great deal.”

She shrugged. Disbelieving eyes met mine.

I’d expected Summer to vent her anger over not being able to speak to her mom. Was she disappointed? Maybe after everything she’d been through, she didn’t want to talk to Dana.

Hoping to change the subject and boost Summer’s mood, I asked, “Would you like blueberries in your pancakes or do you prefer them plain?”

She lowered her head. “You don’t need to go to all that bother. Coffee will do.”

What kind of breakfast was that for a growing child? Did she skip breakfast most mornings? “It’s no bother. I like to cook.”

“Yeah, right. I hope you don’t expect me to do the dishes and all that cleaning up shit.”

I winced at her language. “I hate doing dishes, too. That’s why I have a dishwasher.”

A look of satisfaction claimed her face as she shrugged and dropped into a chair.

I remembered Tony’s conversation with her, and I didn’t want Summer to consider herself a burden. “I might have gone a little overboard on preparing for your arrival because I was so excited. I had such a good time shopping that I couldn’t stop myself, so if you don’t like something, feel free to say so. I only wish you were here under happier circumstances. After your mom’s better, I hope you can come see me every few months.”

She lifted her right shoulder in a noncommittal shrug.

I tried a new subject. “Oh, Tony’s daughter, Chelsea, is about your age. She’s invited you to hang out with her and her friends at the mall this afternoon.”

“Why’d she want to do that?” she asked, suspicion darkening her eyes.

“She thought it would be cool to hang out with someone from L.A.”

“Oh.”

I’d expected her to refuse. Oh sounded promising. “So will you go?”

“Maybe.” Her lips twitched, a smile tugging the corners of her mouth.

More progress.

“I’ll give you fifty bucks.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I want to. The other girls will want to shop for clothes, and I thought you would, too.”

“I got plenty of clothes.”

That was a matter of opinion.

Why was I so judgmental around Summer?

Because I cared, deeply. “You can still take the cash in case you find a CD or something else you can’t live without.”

Her wary gaze met mine. “What do you want from me in exchange?”

“I want you to have a good time while you’re here.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I mean it. Do you remember how much fun we had the last time you were here?”

A faraway look came into her eyes. “No.”

Disappointed, I forced a smile. “I’m surprised you don’t remember, we had such a great time.”

Directing a stony gaze at me, she said nothing.

I glanced down and adjusted the dial on the electric frying pan. “So what’ll it be, plain or blueberry pancakes?”

“Can I have some of both?”

“Coming right up.”

A few minutes later I placed a stack of pancakes on a plate in the center of the table along with a half gallon of milk and two glasses of orange juice. I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat in the chair nearest Summer. “Help yourself.”

She slid three pancakes onto her plate.

I took two and handed her the syrup.

She drenched her pancakes and put a large bite into her mouth. She polished off her serving before I’d eaten half of mine.

“Can I have those, too?” she asked, her fork poised over the dish.

“They’re there to eat.”

Needing no more encouragement, Summer ate the last few pancakes. Some time later she wiped her mouth with the paper napkin beside her plate. “I lied to you earlier. I do remember the last time I was here. We had a blast.”

Her comment took me off guard. “We certainly did.”

“I ran after the seagulls when they stole my bag of cookies,” she said with a giggle that reminded me of the child she’d been.

“I have a picture on my mantel of you feeding the gulls French fries on the pier.”

“I noticed it when I first arrived. I was surprised you still had it.”

I reached for her hand, and she didn’t pull away. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah, well…” She looked uneasy and unsure how to reply.

We’d made progress.

Hope blossomed inside me.

I wanted to tell her how much I cared and worried about her. But Summer freed her hand and frowned, the closeness between us vanishing.

I wanted Summer’s outing with Chelsea to go well. But I was concerned about my niece’s ability to pepper most sentences with obscenities. I had no idea how to broach the subject without causing us to drift further apart.

But I had to try.

Later that day I knocked on Summer’s bedroom door. “Can I come in?”

“Suit yourself. It’s your house.”

I walked into the bedroom and saw Summer standing with her back to me, her plastic bag on the bed, some of its contents spread out in front of her—most of the clothing black with the exception of the few T-shirts I’d purchased. Summer wore a black skirt that reached mid-calf, ripped fishnet stockings, the same clunky boots and a black long-sleeve shirt with holes in the elbows.

My heart fell toward my stomach like a rock. What did I expect? Summer in a prom gown?

Accept her as she is.

Easier said than done.

How would Chelsea and her friends react when they first saw Summer? Chelsea was a cute girl, five foot five, straight brown hair that brushed her shoulders. She often wore low-slung jeans and cropped tops that showed off her pierced belly button.

When Summer turned, I was pleased to see she’d removed most of the white from her face. She’d left behind a thin layer that made her look deathly pale, but the hint of flesh tone was there.

Under her shirt I spotted a wedge of the pink top I’d bought poking from the unbuttoned collar. The bright color reflected a rosy glow against her chin.

“You look nice,” I said.

She glanced down and shrugged, seemingly uncomfortable with the compliment. Around her wrists she wore thick leather bracelets with metal prongs. I thought of the charm bracelet in my purse and realized how out of place it would look on her.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, running down the stairs, fetching the box from my purse, and heading back into Summer’s room.

“I bought this for you because I had one when I was your age. But I know it isn’t your style. While you’re at the mall, you can return it for something you like.”

She took the box and looked down at the package for a long time.

“Aren’t you going to open it?”

Her gaze strayed across the room. “I saw you ditch this yesterday when you saw what I looked like. I figured you were disappointed.”

“I was a little surprised,” I said with a nervous laugh. “Well, make that a lot surprised.”

She rolled her eyes.

“And of course, you’ve changed…a lot.” Keep it up and she’ll be escaping out the window.

“You think I’m a freak.”

I winced at her choice of words. I exhaled a long breath. “No, you aren’t a freak, but I don’t know what to think,” I finally said.

“At least you’re honest,” she replied, her gaze riveted on me.

“We don’t have many Goth teens around here. Isn’t that what you are? A Goth?”

“I’m just me, that’s all.”

“I understand that you want to express yourself, and that’s fine. I’ve gotten over my initial surprise, and I hope you’ve forgiven me for raising my hand at you.”

“No big deal.”

“But to me it’s a very big deal.”

I waited a moment for her reaction.

Another shrug.

“I didn’t give you this yesterday because I realized I should have listened to Tony and waited for you to pick out your own gift.”

Summer frowned at the mention of his name but kept her thoughts to herself. She slid the ribbon over the rounded edges of the wrapped velvet box, slowly removed the wrapping, folded the paper, and tucked it into her plastic bag along with the ribbon and the bow. She flipped the box open and stared down at the gold charm bracelet.

“I know this is a sad time for you, but I figured there was no reason why we couldn’t make some special memories while you were here.” I’d hoped she’d look back at our time together in a good way. I’d planned to buy her other charms over the years.

Her gaze locked with mine.

“You probably think the gift is foolish, and I don’t blame you.” I was rambling and couldn’t seem to stop. “As I said earlier, exchange it for something you like.”

She lifted and dropped her shoulders and studied the bracelet.

Summer raised doubt-filled eyes.

“The seagull charm was supposed to remind you of the great time we had together when you were eight.”

“I already figured that.” She shrugged and glanced at the bracelet again. “Can you help me put it on?”

I was pleased and discovered a moment later that it didn’t look nearly as out of place as I’d expected, dangling beneath the thick leather band around her wrist.

She jiggled her wrist and watched the charm sway back and forth, her eyes sparkling with joy.

“It looks really pretty on you,” I said.

“No shit, it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever owned.”

I sensed her enthusiasm and a growing bond between us.

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