Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt. She refused to think about her neighbor or his last-minute phone call. She balked at the idea of dining with one man while wistfully longing for another—which was exactly what she was doing.
Robin studied the menu, pretending to decide between the prime-rib special and the fresh halibut. But the entire time she stared at the menu, she was racking her brain for a topic of conversation.
Frank saved her the trouble. “For once,” he said, “Angela didn’t exaggerate. You’re a delightful surprise.”
“I am?” It was amusing to hear him echo her own reaction.
Frank nodded, his smile reserved. “When Angie phoned earlier in the week, I wasn’t sure what to expect. She keeps wanting me to date her friends. And to hear her talk, she’s close friends with dozens of gorgeous women all interested in meeting me.”
Robin grinned. “She should run a dating service. I can’t tell you the number of times she’s matched me up with someone, or tried to, anyway.”
“But you’re a comfortable person to be around. I could sense that right away.”
“Thank you. I…wasn’t sure what to expect, either. Angela’s raved about you for weeks, wanting to get the two of us together.” Robin glanced from the menu to her companion, then back again. She felt the same misgivings every time she agreed to one of these arranged dates.
“I’ve been divorced six months now,” Frank volunteered, “but after fourteen years of married life, I don’t think I’ll ever get accustomed to dating again.”
Robin found herself agreeing. “I know what you mean. It all seems so awkward, doesn’t it? When Lenny and I were dating, I was in high school, and there was so little to worry about. We knew what we wanted and knew what we had to do to get there.”
Frank sent her a smile. “Now that we’re older and—” he paused “—I hesitate to use the word wiser….”
“More sophisticated?”
“Right, more sophisticated,” Frank repeated. His hand closed around the water glass. “Life seems so complicated now. I’ve been out of the swing of things for so long….”
The waitress came for their order then, and from that point on the evening went smoothly. The feeling of kinship she felt with Frank astonished Robin. He was obviously at ease with her, too. Before she knew it, Robin found herself telling him about Cole.
“He sounds like the kind of guy most women would leap off a bridge to meet.”
Robin nodded. “He’s wonderful to Jeff, too.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“His wife and son.”
Frank’s mouth sagged open. “He’s married?”
“Was,” she rushed to explain. “From what I understand, his wife left him and sometime later his son died.”
“That’s tough,” Frank said, picking up his coffee. “But that was years ago, wasn’t it?”
“I…don’t know. Cole’s never told me these things himself. In fact, he’s never mentioned either his wife or his son.”
“He’s never mentioned them?”
“Never,” she confirmed. “I heard it from a neighbor.”
“That’s what’s bothering you, isn’t it?”
The question was sobering. Subconsciously, from the moment Robin had learned of Cole’s loss, she’d been waiting for him to tell her. Waiting for him to trust her enough.
Frank and Robin lingered over coffee, chatting about politics and the economy and a number of other stimulating topics. But the question about Cole refused to fade from her mind.
They parted outside the restaurant and Frank kissed her cheek, but they were both well aware they wouldn’t be seeing each other again. Their time together had been a brief respite. It had helped Frank deal with his loneliness and helped Robin understand what was troubling her about Cole.
The first thing Robin noticed when she pulled into her driveway was that Cole’s house was dark. Dark and silent. Lonely. So much of her life had been like that—before she’d met him.
She needed to talk to him. She wanted to ask about his phone call. She wanted to ask about his wife and the son he’d lost. But the timing was all wrong.
For a long moment Robin sat alone in her car, feeling both sad and disappointed.
Heather greeted her with a smile and a finger pressed to her lips. “Both kids were exhausted. They fell asleep in the living room almost as soon as we got back.”
After Jeff’s busy day, she could hardly believe he’d lasted through the movie. “I hope he wasn’t cranky.”
“Not in the least,” Heather assured her.
Robin yawned, completely exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to escape to her room and sleep until noon the following day.
“Would you like a cup of coffee before you go?” Heather asked.
“No, thanks.” Robin had been blessed with good neighbors. Heather on her right and Cole on her left….
Together Robin and Heather woke Jeff, who grumbled about his mother being late. He was too drowsy to realize it was only nine-thirty or that she’d returned ahead of schedule.
After telling Heather a little about her evening, Robin guided her son across the yard and into the house. She walked upstairs with him and answered the slurred questions he struggled to ask between wide, mouth-stretching yawns.
Tugging back his quilt, Robin urged him into his bed. Jeff kicked off his shoes and reached for the quilt. It wasn’t the first time he’d slept in his clothes and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
Smiling to herself, Robin moved quietly down the stairs.
On impulse, she paused in the kitchen and picked up the phone. When Cole answered on the first ring, she swallowed a gasp of surprise.
“Hello,” he said a second time.
“What did you lie about?” she asked softly.
“Where are you?”
“Home.”
“I’ll be right there.” Without a further word, he hung up.
A minute later, Cole was standing at her front door, hands in his back pockets. He stared at her as if it had been months since they’d seen each other.
“You win,” he said, edging his way in.
“Win what? The door prize?” she asked, controlling her amusement with difficulty.
Not bothering to answer her, Cole stalked to the kitchen, where he sank down in one of the pine chairs. “Did you have a good time?”
She sat down across from him. “I really did. Frank’s a very pleasant, very caring man. We met at the Higher Ground—that’s a cute little restaurant close to the BART station and—”
“I know where it is.”
“About your phone call earlier. You said—”
“What’s he like?”
“Who? Frank?”
Cole gave her a look that suggested she have her intelligence tested.
“Like I said, he’s very pleasant. Divorced and lonely.”
“What’s he do for a living?”
“He works for the city, I think. We didn’t get around to talking about our careers.” No doubt Cole would be shocked if he knew she’d spent the greater part of the evening discussing her relationship with him!
“What did you talk about, then?”
“Cole, honestly, I don’t think we should discuss my evening with Frank. Would you like some coffee? I’ll make decaf.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
Robin ignored the question. Instead she left the table and began to make coffee. She was concentrating so carefully on her task that she didn’t notice Cole was directly behind her. She turned—and found herself gazing into the darkest, most confused and frustrated pair of eyes she’d ever seen.
“Oh,” she said, startled. “I didn’t realize you were so close.”
His hands gripped her shoulders. “Why did you go out with him?”
Surely that wasn’t distress she heard in Cole’s voice? Not after all that casual indifference this afternoon. She frowned, bewildered by the pain she saw in his eyes. And she finally understood. Contrary to everything he’d claimed, Cole was jealous. Really and truly jealous.
“Did he kiss you?” he asked with an urgency, an intensity, she’d never heard in his voice before.
Robin stared, frozen by the stark need she read in him.
Cole’s finger rested on her mouth. “Did Frank kiss you?” he repeated.
She shook her head and the motion brushed his finger across her bottom lip.
“He wanted to, though, didn’t he?” Cole asked with a brooding frown.
“He didn’t kiss me.” She was finally able to say the words. She couldn’t kiss Frank or anyone else. The only man she wanted to kiss and be kissed by was the man looking down at her now. The man whose lips were descending on hers….
Seven
“So, did you like this guy you had dinner with last night?” Jeff asked, keeping his eyes on his bowl of cold cereal.
“He was nice,” Robin answered, pouring herself a cup of coffee and joining him at the table. They’d slept late and were spending a lazy Sunday morning enjoying their breakfast before going to the eleven o’clock service at church.
Jeff hesitated, his spoon poised in front of him. “Is he nicer than Cole?”
“Cole’s…nicer,” Robin admitted reluctantly. Nice and nicer weren’t terms she would’ve used to describe the differences between Frank and Cole, but in her son’s ten-year-old mind they made perfect sense.
A smile quivered at the edges of Jeff’s mouth. “I saw you two smooching last night,” he said, grinning broadly.
“When?” Robin demanded—a ridiculous question. It could only have happened when Cole had come over to talk to her. He’d confessed how jealous he’d been of Frank and how he’d struggled with the emotion and felt like a fool. Robin had been convinced she was the one who’d behaved like an idiot. Before either of them could prevent it, they were in each other’s arms, seeking and granting reassurance.
“You thought I was asleep, but I heard Cole talking and I wanted to ask him what he was gonna do about you and this other guy, so I came downstairs and saw you two with your faces stuck together.”
The boy certainly had a way with words.
“You didn’t look like you minded, either. Cole and me talked about girls once, and he said they aren’t much when they’re ten, but they get a whole lot more interesting later on. He said girls are like green apples. At first they’re all sour and make your lips pucker, but a little while later they’re real good.”
“I see,” Robin muttered, not at all sure she liked being compared to an apple.
“But when I got downstairs I didn’t say anything,” Jeff said, “because, well, you know.”
Robin nodded and sipped her coffee in an effort to hide her discomfort.
Jeff picked up his cereal bowl and drank the remainder of the milk in loud gulps. He wiped the back of his hand across his lips. “I suppose this means you’re going to have a baby now.”