would be cheaper if you moved out of the city.”
Before Kate could draw a breath to reply, Bridget turned to Kevin. “Kevin, honey, you are a dear, dear boy. But you don’t have to be the daddy now. You don’t have to take care of things, and you don’t have to fix things, and for heaven sakes you do not have to be responsible for me. All you have to do, both of you, is to live your best lives, right now, just like I am. Someday I am going to need you, and when that day comes I want you”—she pointed a finger at Kate in mock sternness—“to have a house in the suburbs with a mother-in-law suite, a maid, and a pool. And you”—she turned the finger on Kevin—“to have a wife who loves you as much as I loved your father.
“In the meantime . . .” She smiled. “You’re right, I do have a family. And it includes Cici and Lindsay. We’re about to go off on a marvelous adventure together, and we’ve earned it. Some day, if you work hard and live right, the two of you might get a chance to have as much fun as I’m having. So be happy for us, okay?”
She stood, then, and extended her hands to her two rather dazed-looking offspring. “Now, unless you’re planning on serving me with papers for a competency hearing . . .” She paused only slightly to toss Kevin a look of mild inquiry. He quickly stood up and grasped her hand. “Let’s get back to the party, shall we?”
His name was Peter Shepler, and he insisted everyone call him Shep. He was over six feet tall, slim and muscular with iron gray hair and a nose like Richard Gere’s. There had been a time in Lindsay’s life when the mere sight of him could stop her breath.
Now all she could notice was that he had had a lot of work done on his teeth. His smile was about three shades whiter than the brilliant white satin she had used for the buffet. She thought about complimenting him on it, but wasn’t sure that would be polite.
He looked down at her now with that sad, tender, sweet expression in his eyes that once upon a time had melted her heart like chocolate in the sun. “So,” he said, “after all these years, it’s good-bye.”
Lindsay actually remembered a very distinct good-bye some five years ago, when he had married another woman. But she merely smiled and agreed. “It looks like it.”
His gaze swept her face, her hair, and barely skimmed the glitter-dusted curve of her cleavage before returning to her eyes, the tenderness in his smile never wavering. Subtle, Shep . Very nice.
“You’re finally getting a chance to paint full-time, just like you always wanted,” he said. “You’re going to have gallery owners beating a path to your door.”
She smiled. “I don’t know about that. But there aren’t too many times in life you get a chance to go after a dream. This is mine.”
He nodded. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you, Shep.”
“I remember that weekend we spent in Charleston. You did some fabulous paintings there.”
Back in those days, he had been the principal at the school where she taught. She had been madly in love with him for almost a year before he noticed. It had taken another three years for him to finally convince her he would never make a commitment. A month after she had accepted a teaching position in another school, he announced he was engaged to be married—to someone else, of course.
She said, “Actually, I only took photos. I never travel with painting supplies.”
He looked surprised. “Are you sure? I distinctly remember you painting the bridge at Magnolia Gardens.”
“That’s a pretty popular scene to paint. But I never got around to it.”
“Not even a sketch?”
“Not even.”
“Funny how the mind can play tricks.”
“I guess.”
“Anyway, you’re going to be great. And I’m envious.”
She said, “I’m a lucky woman,” and meant it.
She sipped her wine. He said, after a time, “I love the Shenandoah Valley.”
“Me, too.”
“Maybe I’ll drive up some
Before Kate could draw a breath to reply, Bridget turned to Kevin. “Kevin, honey, you are a dear, dear boy. But you don’t have to be the daddy now. You don’t have to take care of things, and you don’t have to fix things, and for heaven sakes you do not have to be responsible for me. All you have to do, both of you, is to live your best lives, right now, just like I am. Someday I am going to need you, and when that day comes I want you”—she pointed a finger at Kate in mock sternness—“to have a house in the suburbs with a mother-in-law suite, a maid, and a pool. And you”—she turned the finger on Kevin—“to have a wife who loves you as much as I loved your father.
“In the meantime . . .” She smiled. “You’re right, I do have a family. And it includes Cici and Lindsay. We’re about to go off on a marvelous adventure together, and we’ve earned it. Some day, if you work hard and live right, the two of you might get a chance to have as much fun as I’m having. So be happy for us, okay?”
She stood, then, and extended her hands to her two rather dazed-looking offspring. “Now, unless you’re planning on serving me with papers for a competency hearing . . .” She paused only slightly to toss Kevin a look of mild inquiry. He quickly stood up and grasped her hand. “Let’s get back to the party, shall we?”
His name was Peter Shepler, and he insisted everyone call him Shep. He was over six feet tall, slim and muscular with iron gray hair and a nose like Richard Gere’s. There had been a time in Lindsay’s life when the mere sight of him could stop her breath.
Now all she could notice was that he had had a lot of work done on his teeth. His smile was about three shades whiter than the brilliant white satin she had used for the buffet. She thought about complimenting him on it, but wasn’t sure that would be polite.
He looked down at her now with that sad, tender, sweet expression in his eyes that once upon a time had melted her heart like chocolate in the sun. “So,” he said, “after all these years, it’s good-bye.”
Lindsay actually remembered a very distinct good-bye some five years ago, when he had married another woman. But she merely smiled and agreed. “It looks like it.”
His gaze swept her face, her hair, and barely skimmed the glitter-dusted curve of her cleavage before returning to her eyes, the tenderness in his smile never wavering. Subtle, Shep . Very nice.
“You’re finally getting a chance to paint full-time, just like you always wanted,” he said. “You’re going to have gallery owners beating a path to your door.”
She smiled. “I don’t know about that. But there aren’t too many times in life you get a chance to go after a dream. This is mine.”
He nodded. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you, Shep.”
“I remember that weekend we spent in Charleston. You did some fabulous paintings there.”
Back in those days, he had been the principal at the school where she taught. She had been madly in love with him for almost a year before he noticed. It had taken another three years for him to finally convince her he would never make a commitment. A month after she had accepted a teaching position in another school, he announced he was engaged to be married—to someone else, of course.
She said, “Actually, I only took photos. I never travel with painting supplies.”
He looked surprised. “Are you sure? I distinctly remember you painting the bridge at Magnolia Gardens.”
“That’s a pretty popular scene to paint. But I never got around to it.”
“Not even a sketch?”
“Not even.”
“Funny how the mind can play tricks.”
“I guess.”
“Anyway, you’re going to be great. And I’m envious.”
She said, “I’m a lucky woman,” and meant it.
She sipped her wine. He said, after a time, “I love the Shenandoah Valley.”
“Me, too.”
“Maybe I’ll drive up some
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