evening nestled under an afghan on the sofa, munching on a bowl of buttered popcorn and watching a classic Julia Roberts film, Runaway Bride . The movie was fascinating because it depicted the way Julia's character redefined her personality every time a new man entered into her life. If the right man came along, would I turn into a totally different person?
I thought about the men who had recently appeared in my life.
The doctor. The real estate agent. The detective. My ex.
The dead guy.
The metamorphosis was beginning. Whether I liked it or not.
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EIGHT
An artic frost icing my cheeks woke me early the next morning. The temperature had dropped more than thirty degrees. With the heat turned off, it was only fifty-five degrees in the house. Dark gray clouds glared balefully at me. I glared back.
After a long dry summer, most Californians welcome the first rain of the season. But rain and soccer are not a great combination from a mother's perspective. The kids revel in it since it gives them an excuse to slip and slide in the mud without getting into trouble. The lucky moms stand on the sidelines getting drenched then we get to launder the muddy clothes afterward.
The game was as awful as I anticipated. Blue and gold merged with muck brown as arms and legs tangled on the sloppy field. If Liz were here she'd say it was peeing rain. I peered through the showers pouring off the rim of my turquoise umbrella trying to determine which muddy player was my son.
I was so engrossed in the action on the field that I didn't notice the man standing next to me. It wasn't until his size twelve Nike bumped against the toe of my running shoe that I looked up and saw Detective Hunter gazing down, his oversized black umbrella almost a foot above mine.
"You take soccer quite seriously, Ms. McKay. I've been standing here for over five minutes and you haven't blinked once."
Blink? How could I blink? The rain had welded my waterproof mascara to my eyelids. I opened my mouth to respond when I heard a roar from the parents. I glanced at the field just in time to see my son kick a ball right through the legs of the other team's goalie, a perfect shot.
"That a boy, Ben.” I jumped up and raised my fist triumphantly in the air, totally forgetting the man standing next to me.
"That was a well placed kick, Ms. McKay. Your son is a smart player. He must take after his mother."
My eyes narrowed as I looked up at him. Are detectives allowed to give compliments to murder suspects? “I'll take credit for Ben's intellect, but I'm afraid the only time I received an A in P.E. was in square dancing. I was the do-si-do diva."
"I have no doubt you're quite a hit on the dance floor.” He smoothly segued into another question. “So do you have any more Love Club dates on the horizon?"
Odd. Was the detective investigating me or flirting with me?
I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly. “Well, you know the life of a single woman, one pressing social engagement after another."
His eyes twinkled and a brief smile hovered over his lips. Didn't he believe me?
"For your information, I have a date next weekend with someone else from the Love Club. A doctor.” I enunciated the word doctor. Who was he to smirk at my social calendar? “We're having dinner at the River Inn."
"Good to know. I might have dinner over there myself.” The look he shot at me penetrated through my windbreaker. “Just to make sure nothing happens. To your date."
He checked the gold watch on his left wrist. “I need to get over to Kristy's game. She'll be wondering what's keeping me. My daughter thinks she's going to kick up a storm, so to speak. Congratulations again on your son's goal."
With that remark, he strode down the sidelines toward one of the other playing fields. Remembering Kristy's tenacity in her last game, she undoubtedly would be kicking major butt, so to speak.
I gazed down the field and contemplated her father's broad shoulders
I thought about the men who had recently appeared in my life.
The doctor. The real estate agent. The detective. My ex.
The dead guy.
The metamorphosis was beginning. Whether I liked it or not.
[Back to Table of Contents]
EIGHT
An artic frost icing my cheeks woke me early the next morning. The temperature had dropped more than thirty degrees. With the heat turned off, it was only fifty-five degrees in the house. Dark gray clouds glared balefully at me. I glared back.
After a long dry summer, most Californians welcome the first rain of the season. But rain and soccer are not a great combination from a mother's perspective. The kids revel in it since it gives them an excuse to slip and slide in the mud without getting into trouble. The lucky moms stand on the sidelines getting drenched then we get to launder the muddy clothes afterward.
The game was as awful as I anticipated. Blue and gold merged with muck brown as arms and legs tangled on the sloppy field. If Liz were here she'd say it was peeing rain. I peered through the showers pouring off the rim of my turquoise umbrella trying to determine which muddy player was my son.
I was so engrossed in the action on the field that I didn't notice the man standing next to me. It wasn't until his size twelve Nike bumped against the toe of my running shoe that I looked up and saw Detective Hunter gazing down, his oversized black umbrella almost a foot above mine.
"You take soccer quite seriously, Ms. McKay. I've been standing here for over five minutes and you haven't blinked once."
Blink? How could I blink? The rain had welded my waterproof mascara to my eyelids. I opened my mouth to respond when I heard a roar from the parents. I glanced at the field just in time to see my son kick a ball right through the legs of the other team's goalie, a perfect shot.
"That a boy, Ben.” I jumped up and raised my fist triumphantly in the air, totally forgetting the man standing next to me.
"That was a well placed kick, Ms. McKay. Your son is a smart player. He must take after his mother."
My eyes narrowed as I looked up at him. Are detectives allowed to give compliments to murder suspects? “I'll take credit for Ben's intellect, but I'm afraid the only time I received an A in P.E. was in square dancing. I was the do-si-do diva."
"I have no doubt you're quite a hit on the dance floor.” He smoothly segued into another question. “So do you have any more Love Club dates on the horizon?"
Odd. Was the detective investigating me or flirting with me?
I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly. “Well, you know the life of a single woman, one pressing social engagement after another."
His eyes twinkled and a brief smile hovered over his lips. Didn't he believe me?
"For your information, I have a date next weekend with someone else from the Love Club. A doctor.” I enunciated the word doctor. Who was he to smirk at my social calendar? “We're having dinner at the River Inn."
"Good to know. I might have dinner over there myself.” The look he shot at me penetrated through my windbreaker. “Just to make sure nothing happens. To your date."
He checked the gold watch on his left wrist. “I need to get over to Kristy's game. She'll be wondering what's keeping me. My daughter thinks she's going to kick up a storm, so to speak. Congratulations again on your son's goal."
With that remark, he strode down the sidelines toward one of the other playing fields. Remembering Kristy's tenacity in her last game, she undoubtedly would be kicking major butt, so to speak.
I gazed down the field and contemplated her father's broad shoulders
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