setting.
Terrell scarfed his ice cream before Mike was halfway done and ran for the swing set.
The silence in his absence drew Mike’s gaze to Meg.
She played with her melting yogurt.
What did he say, now that their common bond was gone? He glanced Terrell’s way. “Having Terrell—and seeing you again—we’re like our own little family.”
She smiled as if humoring him. “We’re not a family, Mike.”
“I know.” He scraped hot fudge from the side of his bowl as he waited for the sting of her words to fade. It didn’t. “But it’ll be nice to look forward to seeing someone when I come home from a road trip.”
“What about your parents? Your sisters?”
“Mom and Dad live near LA now. Betsy’s up in Lake Forest, but I really don’t see her unless her boys want tickets to a game. They’re still White Sox fans. Go figure.”
Terrell waved from atop a plastic slide.
Meg waved back. “How are Betsy and Linda?”
“All right.” No, Meg had missed the bombshell that had rocked his family. “Actually, Betsy was getting beat up.”
The confusion in Meg’s eyes changed to shock. “Doug? He beat her?”
“From the moment they got married.”
She stared at him, the longest gaze she’d given him yet. “I never knew.”
“Neither did we. A couple years after you”—he swallowed, rephrasing his words—“after we divorced, he almost killed her. I was up here, playing the Sox, I think. My parents called, said Betsy had phoned them, was incoherent, and wouldn’t answer when they called back. They asked me to go check.” He tapped his fingers against the wood. “I found her.”
“Oh, Mike.”
“Yeah.” His voice shook at the memory of his sister lying unconscious on her kitchen floor, bruised, bleeding, looking as if she were dead already.
“Is she okay?”
“Other than permanent back problems, I think so.” He forced fisted hands beneath the picnic table. “I wanted to pound the guy. If he’d been there—” Mike breathed deeply. Closed his eyes. Later he’d been shaken by the insanity of what he’d longed to do.
Sometimes that still shook him.
Meg lowered her eyes to her yogurt and pushed it around with her spoon. Sorrow covered her features.
He gave her a minute. The news was a downer, but he’d had time to deal with it, time to celebrate Doug’s prison sentence, time to make sure his sister was back on her feet. Betsy was stronger than anyone had expected.
“Please tell me you have better news about Linda.”
“I do. She’s in San Diego, and she and Chris are grandparents. My niece Heather had a baby girl in January, so I’m a great uncle. And at such a young age.” He pointed his spoon at her, willing her to smile. “My new purpose in life is to live long enough to be a great-great-great uncle.”
“I thought it was grand uncle. Great-great grand uncle.”
“Whatever. It’s a goal.”
Meg smiled into her yogurt.
Score one for him.
When she lifted her head, he looked away at Terrell, who swung from the monkey bars. Strong kid. “I haven’t told my parents about Terrell yet.”
Meg went still.
Evidently she’d not thought about his parents’ reaction to a birth announcement six years late.
Her voice trembled. “When will you tell them?”
“I don’t know. When we’re ready to face them.” What would his parents say? Finding out about Terrell would revive all their anger over his affair and divorce.
What would they say to Meg?
“I’m sorry, Mike. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”
No joke. “It’s in the past, Meg.”
She stared beyond him.
He shifted in his seat. He’d been gracious there. Super gracious—which she did not deserve. Had she heard him? Was she listening? “You ever think about us getting back together?”
Her gaze shifted to his.
Guess she was listening. He inhaled before taking the plunge. “I was serious when I said I’ve missed you.”
“I take it there’s no one else in the picture—no, wait, that
Terrell scarfed his ice cream before Mike was halfway done and ran for the swing set.
The silence in his absence drew Mike’s gaze to Meg.
She played with her melting yogurt.
What did he say, now that their common bond was gone? He glanced Terrell’s way. “Having Terrell—and seeing you again—we’re like our own little family.”
She smiled as if humoring him. “We’re not a family, Mike.”
“I know.” He scraped hot fudge from the side of his bowl as he waited for the sting of her words to fade. It didn’t. “But it’ll be nice to look forward to seeing someone when I come home from a road trip.”
“What about your parents? Your sisters?”
“Mom and Dad live near LA now. Betsy’s up in Lake Forest, but I really don’t see her unless her boys want tickets to a game. They’re still White Sox fans. Go figure.”
Terrell waved from atop a plastic slide.
Meg waved back. “How are Betsy and Linda?”
“All right.” No, Meg had missed the bombshell that had rocked his family. “Actually, Betsy was getting beat up.”
The confusion in Meg’s eyes changed to shock. “Doug? He beat her?”
“From the moment they got married.”
She stared at him, the longest gaze she’d given him yet. “I never knew.”
“Neither did we. A couple years after you”—he swallowed, rephrasing his words—“after we divorced, he almost killed her. I was up here, playing the Sox, I think. My parents called, said Betsy had phoned them, was incoherent, and wouldn’t answer when they called back. They asked me to go check.” He tapped his fingers against the wood. “I found her.”
“Oh, Mike.”
“Yeah.” His voice shook at the memory of his sister lying unconscious on her kitchen floor, bruised, bleeding, looking as if she were dead already.
“Is she okay?”
“Other than permanent back problems, I think so.” He forced fisted hands beneath the picnic table. “I wanted to pound the guy. If he’d been there—” Mike breathed deeply. Closed his eyes. Later he’d been shaken by the insanity of what he’d longed to do.
Sometimes that still shook him.
Meg lowered her eyes to her yogurt and pushed it around with her spoon. Sorrow covered her features.
He gave her a minute. The news was a downer, but he’d had time to deal with it, time to celebrate Doug’s prison sentence, time to make sure his sister was back on her feet. Betsy was stronger than anyone had expected.
“Please tell me you have better news about Linda.”
“I do. She’s in San Diego, and she and Chris are grandparents. My niece Heather had a baby girl in January, so I’m a great uncle. And at such a young age.” He pointed his spoon at her, willing her to smile. “My new purpose in life is to live long enough to be a great-great-great uncle.”
“I thought it was grand uncle. Great-great grand uncle.”
“Whatever. It’s a goal.”
Meg smiled into her yogurt.
Score one for him.
When she lifted her head, he looked away at Terrell, who swung from the monkey bars. Strong kid. “I haven’t told my parents about Terrell yet.”
Meg went still.
Evidently she’d not thought about his parents’ reaction to a birth announcement six years late.
Her voice trembled. “When will you tell them?”
“I don’t know. When we’re ready to face them.” What would his parents say? Finding out about Terrell would revive all their anger over his affair and divorce.
What would they say to Meg?
“I’m sorry, Mike. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”
No joke. “It’s in the past, Meg.”
She stared beyond him.
He shifted in his seat. He’d been gracious there. Super gracious—which she did not deserve. Had she heard him? Was she listening? “You ever think about us getting back together?”
Her gaze shifted to his.
Guess she was listening. He inhaled before taking the plunge. “I was serious when I said I’ve missed you.”
“I take it there’s no one else in the picture—no, wait, that
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