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  He considers this. “I don’t take women home, because they always leave. You’re different.”

  “How’s that?”

  “We aren’t going home, and you’re already leaving. That won’t be a shocker when it happens, will it?”

  “Come on!” Mia shouts.

  Dane lets go of my arm, my skin immediately cooling. It’s only temporary. He shoots me a smirk that sends my body temperature bolting upward.

  “Let’s go,” he says, motioning for me to follow.

  I do. Maybe because I want to spend time with them, even though I shouldn’t. And maybe because I want to watch his butt in those jeans.

  “Isn’t it cool?” Mia asks. Another handful of cereal straight from the box goes into the water. The fish come to the surface, their colors spectacular against the dark water. Oranges, reds, even blues and whites pop against water as they go crazy for the breakfast food. “I don’t see Shamu yet. Wait until you see him. He makes these look like babies.”

  The pond is much bigger than I imagined. Dane told me on the way that his dad moved into a smaller place on more land shortly after I left and inherited an established koi pond in the process.

  When we pulled up to the little ranch-style brick home, I fell in love. It’s warm and inviting with its deep-red brick and large chimney right up the middle. A few miles outside of town, it’s also serene. There were three deer in the front yard when we arrived.

  “I’m going to the shed to see if there’s more cereal,” Mia says.

  She jets off toward a little outbuilding, singing a song from the radio as she goes. I can’t remember ever being that happy and carefree.

  “What?” Dane comes up behind me, making me jump.

  “I was just thinking how happy she is.” I turn to face him. “It’s really a testament to your parenting.”

  “Better be careful or you’ll give me a big head.”

  I pause. “What? No pun? No punch line?”

  His grin splits his cheeks in two. “If your brain goes there when I say ‘big head,’ I win. No punch line needed.”

  “Not what I meant.”

  “It is what you meant. You said so yourself.”

  Rolling my eyes, I turn away and change the subject. “If I ever lived here again, I’d want something like this. Smell that?” Inhaling a lungful of fresh air, I close my eyes and blow it out. “It’s so clean.”

  “It smells like manure. I think Dad’s neighbor just fertilized his fields.”

  I laugh. “It smells better than New York City.”

  “Can I ask you something?” He steps around me so we’re shoulder to shoulder. “I never had you pegged as a city girl. What changed?”

  We walk across the grass toward the field behind the house. Trees loom overhead, their leaves rustling in the breeze as I ponder his question.

  As we come to a stop, Dane leans against the trunk of an old oak tree. “Even after the whole Katie thing, I still didn’t think you’d stay away this long.”

  “I probably wouldn’t have. At first, I just didn’t want to see the two of you. I didn’t let Mom talk about you at all—or about anything here, for that matter. I just didn’t want to know.”

  “Why?”

  I shrug. “I didn’t want to miss you all, I guess. And I had a bunch of anger, and that sort of filled a spot inside me for a while. Then I filled it with work and deadlines, and . . . it was easier pretending this place didn’t exist.”

  Gazing across the meadow, I think back to the years I spent inside my apartment or an office building. Most of them were spent alone or with Grace. It felt fine at the time, but now I’m not sure I’ll be able to get back to that place again mentally.

  I glance at Dane.

  I’m not sure I’ll be able to forget him again.

  “But you’re back now,” he says, a grit to his tone. “Maybe you’ll stay?”

  My laugh is weak. “If I came home now, it would feel like I failed. And like I wasted the last decade of my life.”

  “Even if it were your choice?”

  “Yeah. Think about it,” I say, picking at a piece of bark on the tree. “How many people actually leave here? And out of that small number, how many come back? Almost all of them.” I swat at a bug swarming my head. “Remember when Colin Jenkins left to play football in Wisconsin and then came home as soon as he graduated? Everyone said he couldn’t hack it in the real world. He couldn’t be a little fish in a big pond.”

  “So? Who cares what people say?”

  “So I don’t want that said about me, and I want to make it in a place where there are a million people after my job. It’s incredibly gratifying.” I shrug. “Besides, what would I do here? My degree would be useless.”

  “I guess.” He roughs a hand over his jaw.

  “What about you? Would you ever leave here and move to the city?”

  “Hell no. Not for all the money in the world.”

  “Why not?”

  “And send Mia to a school full of kids I don’t know? No, thank you. I’m just fine with her having most of the same teachers I did and being in class with kids of people I know.”

  “Think of all the opportunities for her.”

  He flinches. “Of getting mugged? Shot? Hit by a subway train?”

  “No one gets hit by a subway train.”

  “Not when they’re safe in Dogwood Lane, they don’t.” He shoves off the tree and stands in front of me. He peers down, his eyes full of an emotion that wrecks into me like a cannonball. “Aren’t you ever scared something will happen to you?”

  “Not really.” My throat burns as I do my best to manage the chaos inside me. “I’ve had a few little skirmishes, but nothing that really scared me that much.”

  His eyes narrow. “Like what?”

  “Nothing. It’s no big deal.” I look over my shoulder at Mia coming out of the shed and decide to change the subject. “Is she okay around the water?”

  Dane doesn’t even look that way. “My dad is standing on the back porch. She’s fine.”

  My gaze flicks around until I spy Nick leaning against a post. He gives me a little wave before heading toward Mia and helping her open another cereal box.

  “How much of that can she feed those fish?” I ask, turning back to Dane.

  “How much is she supposed to, or how much does Dad let her?”

  I grin. “So he’s easier on her than he was you and Matt?”

  He rubs a hand down his face. “It’s like he’s not even the same person. With Matt and me, yeah. Still an asshole. But with Mia he’s a pussy. She gets whatever she wants.”

  “That’s the way it should be with a grandpa.” I giggle. “I knew he’d be a good one. I thought one day . . .” My voice trails off. Something I can’t put my finger on flits through Dane’s eyes, but I look away. “Anyway, I knew he’d be a good one.”

  “Let’s go say hi to Dad before we get out of here.” His voice is so low that I almost don’t hear him. He turns toward the house and begins his trek back.

  I keep a few steps behind him, getting the feeling Dane needs a bit of space. Maybe I need some too. Mentally kicking myself for getting too comfortable, I look up to see Nick watching us.

  “Well, if that ain’t a sight for sore eyes. Come here and give me a hug,” he says.

  The lines on Nick’s face show his age, proof of a life that hasn’t always been easy. Still, he’s as handsome as ever. His eyes still shine the same green as Dane’s, and his strong jawline is hidden by a neatly trimmed beard.

  “How are you?” I let him pull me into his arms. He squeezes me, scents of tobacco and cherries whisking me back to another time and place. “You look good,” I tell him.

  “Ah, hell. You don’t have to sweet-talk me.”

  “Who said I’m sweet-talking anyone?” I wink. “Seriously. You look good, Nick.”

  “Well, thank ya. You look like you’re doing great, kiddo.”

  I laugh at his term of endearment. “I’m doing go
od. Working hard, staying out of trouble. Isn’t that what you drilled into us?”

  He gives Dane the side-eye. “Glad someone listened to me.”

  “You know Dane. Always the hardhead,” I say, trying not to laugh.

  “Me?” Dane looks from me to his dad, then back to me. “You two are full of it.”

  “I’m just saying, son. If you would’ve listened to me, you would’ve put a ring on this girl’s finger ages ago.”

  Dane glares at Nick as I slide out from between the two of them. Mia thankfully chooses this time to squeal from the pond that Shamu has been located.

  “You two better behave,” I tell the men on either side of me.

  “Neely! Come on!” Mia yelps again.

  I feel their gazes on my back as I head toward the pond. “Let me see,” I say. Standing next to Mia, I take in the blue-and-white fish that’s double the size of the others. “Oh, that is a big one.”

  “I know. He’s my favorite.” She blows a lock of hair out of her eyes.

  “Come here. Let me fix that.” I unfasten her elastic and pull her hair into a high ponytail. All the times my mother used to do this to me come flooding back, and as I swipe the band over her hair, I grin. “There you go. All better.”

  “Thanks,” she says, looking at me over her shoulder.

  “You two ready?” Dane’s voice sweeps across the water.

  I turn around. Nick has his hand on Dane’s shoulder, saying something to him I can’t hear. Dane nods but doesn’t look convinced. He just watches me with a trepidation in his eyes that throws me off. Our gazes lock for a split second before I pull mine away.

  “You ready, Mia?” I ask her.

  “Can we get ice cream?”

  “You’re gonna turn into ice cream,” Dane warns her.

  Mia scoops up the cereal boxes and gives them to her grandfather. He gives her a kiss on her cheek before she follows her father through the gate. It bangs shut behind her. I stop by the old man.

  “It was good seeing you, Nick.”

  “It was good seeing you. Come see me more often. Say hello. I practically raised you, and you took off and forgot all about me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I’ll keep in touch.”

  “You do that.” He kisses my cheek and opens the gate. Before I’m all the way out, he speaks again. “Neely?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Keep in touch with that boy of mine too. I know he can be a pain in the ass, but you’re good for him. And I think he’s good for you too.”

  I don’t confirm or deny, partially because I’m unsure. Instead, I give him a smile and head to the truck.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  DANE

  Bowl or plate?” I ask.

  “Do we have garlic bread?” Mia asks, surveying the kitchen.

  “Do I ever make spaghetti without garlic bread?”

  She eyes me. “When you forget to buy it. But I’m not judging you because I can’t feed myself.”

  “Yes, smarty-pants. We have garlic bread. So, bowl or plate?”

  “Bowl. I like to dip the bread in the sauce, and the bowl lets me dip better.”

  “So scientific,” I mutter. Putting on the oven mitts, I retrieve the bread from the oven and pop it on top of the stove. The air is filled with a garlicky scent that’s one of my favorite kitchen smells. Much better than that damn lavender soap.

  While I serve up two bowls of spaghetti, Mia fills two glasses with ice water. Just as I’m carrying the food to the table, the doorbell rings.

  “I’ll get it,” Mia calls, hustling toward the door.

  “Look out the window and see who it is before you . . .” I don’t get to finish the sentence before I hear Haley’s voice. In a few moments she and Mia come around the corner. “We were just going to eat. Want some?”

  “What are we having?” she asks, looking at the table and wrinkling her nose. “Did you use jarred sauce again?”

  “I’m out of your frozen fancy homemade stuff.”

  “So that’s a yes to the jarred?”

  I take my seat across from Mia and give my cousin a look. “Take it or leave it. I don’t care either way. But now you can make your own plate.”

  “Fine, fine.” She serves herself while Mia gets her a drink, and a few seconds later, we’re finally in our seats. “Who is saying grace?”

  Mia smiles. “Me.” She rattles off a simple prayer she’s used since she could pray. “Amen.”

  “Amen,” we say.

  The breakfast nook fills with the sound of silverware clattering against ceramic. We eat in peace for a while before I catch Haley looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

  “What?” I ask, dipping my bread in the sauce.

  “If you said to someone you needed a break, what would that mean?”

  I look at my daughter. She’s busy making sure her spaghetti and garlic bread don’t touch. “You’re just going to dip it anyway. Why are you wasting your time?”

  “Because it’ll be soggy if it sits there.” She looks at me like I’m stupid. “If I dip it, the bread is still nice and crunchy.”

  A glimpse of the upcoming teenage years brushes through my mind, and I have a hard time not just taking her to her room and locking the door now. Before I can get too far with that line of thought, Haley speaks.

  “So?” she asks. “What would it mean?”

  “It would mean I didn’t want to see them for a while,” I say.

  “Why?”

  “That would depend.” I take a sip of water. “I’m guessing someone said that to you?”

  “John, and I liked him.” She moans. “I thought he was The One—”

  “No offense,” Mia interrupts. “But you thought Harry was The One too. And before him it was Noah.”

  I tip my fork toward Mia. “And who was the hippie? What was his name?”

  “Joel,” Mia says through a mouthful of spaghetti.

  Haley winces. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, Mia. And don’t remember everything either. You’re like an elephant.”

  Mia giggles, stabbing her fork in the middle of the pile of spaghetti in her bowl. “Can I be excused? Remembering Joel the Hippie made me lose my appetite.”

  “What are you talking about? You liked him.” Haley laughs.

  Mia holds her hand so I can’t see her lips. “I know,” she whispers loud enough for me to hear. “But I really want to go watch TV.” She drops her hand and looks at me. “Please, Dad?”

  I survey her bowl. “You can be excused, but get a shower before you do anything else. You smell like cereal from the fish.”

  “Got it,” she says, scooting her chair back. “Thanks, Dad. Bye, Haley.”

  “Bye, rascal. See you at church in the morning.”

  Mia’s footsteps ascend the stairs as I take another bite of dinner. Haley pushes her food around her plate.

  I shouldn’t ask her what’s wrong—it’ll devolve into a therapy session, and I really don’t want to figure out her problems. I have my hands full with mine. It’s strange how having a smile on your face as you cook dinner can be construed as a problem, but that’s reality for you.

  I’ve worked my ass off to create a safe, happy life for Mia. She eats all the colors of a rainbow on most days. I took the bumper out of her crib when she was a baby because I read an article that said kids can get their faces into the padding and suffocate. She’s had swim lessons, and I don’t bring people in her life who aren’t good for her. Except Penn, of course, but he’s a good guy at heart.

  The only thing I can’t get around is my Achilles’ heel. The chink in my armor. The one thing that screws me all up every time: Neely.

  The day I accompanied Matt to her house to apologize was the start of a connection that’s never waned. Sure, it wasn’t romantic when it started—we were kids. And now we haven’t seen each other for years. But the same feeling, a sense of balance, came rushing back as soon as I saw her.

  I’ve always been a littl
e rough around the edges. Reserved in a lot of ways. I always wonder what people want out of me, but I’ve never had that thought with Neely. When she’s around, I feel like me. Like it’s okay to be me. That she understands it and, whether she likes it or not, accepts it. No one else has ever made me feel that way. Not even my parents.

  Quite frankly, I love Neely. I always have. I probably always will, and that really sucks.

  Dropping my fork, I start to get up when Haley sighs.

  “Why do I always get my heart broken?” she asks.

  My butt hits the chair again. I take in her forlorn face, the slight frown on her lips, and the way her forehead wrinkles. “This isn’t a broken heart, Hay. It’s just disappointment. You’ll survive.”

  “How can you tell me if my heart is broken or not? Asshole.”

  “You came to this asshole for advice. Just pointing that out.”

  She puts her head in her hands. “You’re all I got, okay? If there was another option, trust me, I’d go to them.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  I lift my fork and take another bite. The sauce is just fine, despite the way Haley licks at it before taking the smallest bites known to man. Reaching for my glass, I notice the way tears are welling up in the corners of her eyes.

  Why do I have to care?

  “Fine,” I say, putting my glass back on the table. “Coming from someone who has seen you with a broken heart, this is not one. Okay?”

  “Who do you think broke mine?”

  “The hippie. You really liked him, I think. I don’t know why you did, but you did.” I shrug. “Watching you tonight, I’d venture to say you’ll have moved on in a week. Back happily in love with some other unsuspecting soul.”

  She loads her fork with spaghetti and pretends to launch it across the table. “I should shoot this at your face for being a jerk.”

  “How am I a jerk?” I laugh. “I just call it like I see it, and you are ‘in love’ with someone new every two months. I don’t even try to learn their names anymore. It’s pointless.”

  She sits back in her seat and sighs. “Enough about me. What did you do today? You’re more chipper than usual.”

  “I did have an eventful evening.” That damn smile that I wore on the ride home, while Mia and I pulled weeds out front, and then while I made dinner comes back. Haley doesn’t miss a beat.