Divided Hearts by Susan R. Hughes

playmate.
    “So you’ll bring her back?” Laurel inquired, her voice hopeful.
    Faye lifted one shoulder noncommittally. “At this point I’m taking things day by day, with Hannah’s mother being in the hospital. Well, I suppose you know the story.” She tried to imagine what Laurel’s initial reaction had been to learning of Simon’s secret child—shock, probably, and perhaps anger at Jenna, as expressed by her more outspoken mother. If so, she seemed to have recovered from it, or hid it well.
    Nodding, Laurel tucked a lock of her long dark hair behind her ear, in an effort to keep the warm spring breeze from fanning it across her face. “It’s just that Simon’s been so happy today. I think he’s been sort of lost lately. Even before he found out about Hannah, I got the sense he’s been reevaluating things, you know? Like he’s wondering about the direction his life has taken.”
    “But he’s so successful,” Faye pointed out, puzzled.
    “Yes, but I don’t think it’s quite fulfilled him the way he expected it would, all those years when he struggled to get his writing published, neglecting other areas of his life along the way.” Laurel caught her lip between her teeth for a moment, as though grappling for the right words. “I think becoming a father, as sudden as it was, has put things into focus for Simon. Just look at him.” She lifted her chin toward the lawn where the girls were playing.
    Turning to look, Faye saw that Simon had returned from the house and joined the girls. The tea set had been laid out, and while Mary stood looking on, he was sitting cross-legged on the grass, serving imaginary tea to his daughter and niece.
    “Simon’s great with kids,” his sister went on, her tone more buoyant. “On holidays, he turns into a big kid himself. You should see him at Christmas. Well, holidays do bring out the best in people.”
    Faye nodded once, though she wasn’t sure she agreed. Holidays had brought out the worst in her parents; the perpetual fights over which of them would spend which part of the day with Faye had sucked most of the joy out of the festivities.
    But this was different. The scene unfolding before her was just what she’d imagined a holiday should be like. It eased her mind to know that Hannah would have special days like this, full of fun and laughter. She hoped, at least, that things could stay this civil.
    Leaving the girls with their teacups, Simon rose from the grass and approached the picnic table, reaching into his pocket as he walked. Stopping next to Faye, he drew out his hand.
    “Look, the Easter bunny left something for you,” he said.
    Faye glanced down to see a pink plastic egg lying on the palm of his hand.
    “What’s this?” she asked, surprised.
    One of Simon’s brows quirked upward, a playful smile tugging at the edges his mouth. “Open it and see.”
    Standing up and stepping over the bench, she took the egg from him and pulled it apart at the seam, finding a nest of pink tissue paper inside. Within the folds of paper she found a silver chain; looped over the chain was a silver locket, the front etched with an Easter lily design. Faye laid it on her palm, studying the intricate pattern in disbelief before lifting her eyes to met Simon’s. He looked back with anticipation.
    “You didn’t have to do this, Simon,” she said, her pulse quickening.
    He shrugged dismissively. “I wanted to get you a little something in thanks for the trouble you’ve gone to, bringing Hannah up here.”
    “It’s gorgeous. Thank you.”
    “Here, let me.” Taking the locket from her, he unlatched the chain. Faye gathered her hair in both hands and held it at the back of her head, lowering her chin so he could lift the chain around her neck and latch it behind.
    “Thanks,” she said, feeling the weight of the closed chain against her neck, as the locket came to rest below her collarbone. As she let her hair fall, Simon’s hands lingered on her neck, her golden