Tags:
Fiction,
Death,
Romance,
Contemporary,
Adult,
Twins,
Bachelor,
school,
Success,
Community,
infidelity,
cheating,
Starting Over,
funeral,
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Single Woman,
headmaster,
world travel,
raising children,
Previously Published,
Widowed Mother,
Five-Year-Olds,
Goldsmith,
Designer Charms,
Painful Secret,
Late Husband,
Private Elementary,
Doctorate,
School Board,
Semester,
Heart Trust,
Nurture Attraction
hide her surprise. A long-forgotten memory had made its way to the surface of her consciousness. A small, curly-haired boy calling her late husband Uncle Scott … It made sense to her in hindsight, but she couldn’t think it through. It wasn’t the time or place for such a memory. She swallowed hard, looked back up, and forced a smile.
Nick handed her the receipt. “So, just to get this straight, you’re not on the prowl for futile dates with anyone named Uncle Phil or Uncle Bob?”
Jamie took her receipt and tried to respond with the same playful tone they’d been using before. “Is this you being meek and unpretentious? ’Cause I’m not buying it.”
Nick must’ve noticed the change in her because he looked into her eyes and asked, “Hey, are you okay?”
She forced a smile. “Yes! I’m fine.”
“Did I say something to upset you?”
“No, no. I just remembered I have to make a phone call, that’s all.” She left, knowing Nick wasn’t convinced. Crap, would they ever manage a normal conversation?
• • •
Two hours later, Michael and Timmy emerged from the dentist’s office grinning as if their teeth really twinkled, and they headed home. Waiting for them had given her time to push dark thoughts as far away as possible.
The business side of her life was busier than usual, and she was now trying to figure out how she could fit extra working hours into either Saturday or Sunday. She was already working nights after the kids went to sleep.
Not only did she have orders to fill, but invoices had to be prepared and sent out next week. On top of that, her jewelry box supplier had sent her the wrong jewelry boxes, and the snafu would make her late on a shipment for the first time ever.
As she neared Autumn Falls, the kids yelled out, “It’s Nick!” as if they’d just seen Iron Man zipping across the sky. In the distance, Jamie saw Nick’s pickup in front of a new coffee shop along the only road into town.
She unconsciously stepped on the gas pedal when she saw his head disappear under the hood of his pickup, but Michael called her on it. “No, Mommy, you have to slow down. Maybe he needs help.”
“I can’t help. I don’t know anything about cars,” she said, but already she felt guilty her little boy had caught her being unkind. Her shoulders slumped as she eased up on the gas and signaled a right turn.
“I can help. Uncle Justin showed me some car stuff.” Timmy jumped up and down on his seat as Jamie maneuvered into the parking lot and slowed to a stop beside Nick’s pickup.
Lowering the passenger window, Jamie asked, “Is everything okay?” In an instant, Timmy had gotten out of his booster, climbed over the passenger seat, and was wiggling out the window. She grabbed his leg.
A normally easy-going Nick looked up, lines of aggravation lining his mouth. “Battery’s dead.” He jerked his thumb toward the café. “One of the employees tried to jumpstart it, but it’s shot.”
The right thing to do was ask, “Do you need a ride?”
“I was just about to call a friend, but she doesn’t get out of work until five. Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”
Realizing this was a good opportunity for her and Nick to finally have normal interaction, she answered, “Not at all. I’m heading over to my mom’s, and your house is on the way.”
“It’s no trouble!” Michael shouted from the backseat.
“See?” Jamie laughed.
“Hey buddy.” Nick turned to Timmy, who’d managed to slip away from Jamie’s grip. “Can you help me grab some things and put them in your mom’s car?”
“I want to help too.” Michael quickly unfastened his seatbelt, and tried to open his door.
“Nick, can you get his door? Child locks — ”
“Wow!” Timmy exclaimed, holding a hockey stick that was almost twice his size.
“I’ll take that.” Nick winked.
“You’re bringing your hockey stick?” Jamie asked.
“Of course! This is my lucky stick, and someone might try to steal
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