mug. “Remember the first time I made spaghetti, wanted to surprise you and Grandma? I put a half cup of salt instead of sugar in the sauce?”
“Oh yes. I remember that. It was awful.” Amanda grimaced at the memory. “And Grandma ate it anyway, like it was supposed to taste like that. Told you it was good while you and me were spitting it out on our plates.”
“I miss her,” Paula murmured. “I really do.”
“I do, too.”
Paula returned carrying a tray. “Okay, here you are … a nice hot cup of chicken noodle. Just like we used to have when we were sick.” She set the tray on Amanda’s lap.
“Thank you. It looks good. You didn’t put any salt in it, did you?”
“No, I didn’t put any salt in it. Now you just be grateful and behave yourself.”
“Just wondering.” Amanda grinned as she blew on a spoonful before putting it into her mouth.
Paula returned to the kitchen and poured more tea for both of them. She was worried. Worried that Amanda would make the biggest mistake of her life by rejecting Richard. She only wanted the best for her little sister. She wanted her to be loved by a man that could take care of her. And she knew in her soul that Richard was that man. Drake thought so, too.
Chapter 13
Allan George Livingston was delivered to Paula and Drake on February 22, George Washington’s birthday so they gave him George’s name. The happy parents adored the little fella from the moment he popped into the world.
At the first sounds of the baby’s cries announcing his arrival, Drake beamed as he looked at Amanda and said, “Listen to the noise A.G. is making. That child has got some strong lungs on him if you ask me.”
Three months had passed since A.G. was born.
It was the last Sunday in May when Amanda drove out to a barbecue at her sister’s house by the river. Drake had given Amanda a brand spanking new red Ford 150 super cab pickup truck on her birthday the month before. Although she hadn’t wanted him to do it, she was grateful she hadn’t had to use her savings to buy a car, and it was obvious she adored her truck, the first vehicle she’d ever owned. It was her baby to be proud of, and it was in her name. She wondered what Arlie would think about her owning such a fancy truck and learning how to drive.
Nearly a year and a half had passed since Arlie had disappeared, and they weren’t any nearer to solving the mystery than they’d been the week after he was gone. Amanda had resigned herself to the fact that he was probably dead. She just couldn’t imagine he could still be alive and not trying to contact her, regardless of his reasons for leaving. Surely he would want a divorce if he were alive after all this time.
Richard had been pressuring her to marry him every time they were together. She hadn’t given in to his frequent sexual advances and was feeling guilty about it, but she just couldn’t go all the way with him. She used the excuse of still being married, but that was fast becoming a lame excuse for she was beginning to want him in her bed. The desire was building. In fact, she looked forward to the sensual kisses and embraces that almost pushed her past the point of no return. She knew she was falling in love with him and was fighting it with all her might.
As she drove, she recalled seeing Richard a couple weeks before. He’d knocked on her door and when she opened it and saw him standing there grinning, holding a guidebook on traveling in Europe in one hand and a bouquet of yellow roses in the other, she couldn’t help but feel love for him. He was perfect. She could find nothing wrong with him.
That evening she had made dinner for him, they sipped wine, and as they cuddled on the sofa, he asked her to marry him once again. With tears in her eyes she had put her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately, not giving him an answer.
He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom and they
“Oh yes. I remember that. It was awful.” Amanda grimaced at the memory. “And Grandma ate it anyway, like it was supposed to taste like that. Told you it was good while you and me were spitting it out on our plates.”
“I miss her,” Paula murmured. “I really do.”
“I do, too.”
Paula returned carrying a tray. “Okay, here you are … a nice hot cup of chicken noodle. Just like we used to have when we were sick.” She set the tray on Amanda’s lap.
“Thank you. It looks good. You didn’t put any salt in it, did you?”
“No, I didn’t put any salt in it. Now you just be grateful and behave yourself.”
“Just wondering.” Amanda grinned as she blew on a spoonful before putting it into her mouth.
Paula returned to the kitchen and poured more tea for both of them. She was worried. Worried that Amanda would make the biggest mistake of her life by rejecting Richard. She only wanted the best for her little sister. She wanted her to be loved by a man that could take care of her. And she knew in her soul that Richard was that man. Drake thought so, too.
Chapter 13
Allan George Livingston was delivered to Paula and Drake on February 22, George Washington’s birthday so they gave him George’s name. The happy parents adored the little fella from the moment he popped into the world.
At the first sounds of the baby’s cries announcing his arrival, Drake beamed as he looked at Amanda and said, “Listen to the noise A.G. is making. That child has got some strong lungs on him if you ask me.”
Three months had passed since A.G. was born.
It was the last Sunday in May when Amanda drove out to a barbecue at her sister’s house by the river. Drake had given Amanda a brand spanking new red Ford 150 super cab pickup truck on her birthday the month before. Although she hadn’t wanted him to do it, she was grateful she hadn’t had to use her savings to buy a car, and it was obvious she adored her truck, the first vehicle she’d ever owned. It was her baby to be proud of, and it was in her name. She wondered what Arlie would think about her owning such a fancy truck and learning how to drive.
Nearly a year and a half had passed since Arlie had disappeared, and they weren’t any nearer to solving the mystery than they’d been the week after he was gone. Amanda had resigned herself to the fact that he was probably dead. She just couldn’t imagine he could still be alive and not trying to contact her, regardless of his reasons for leaving. Surely he would want a divorce if he were alive after all this time.
Richard had been pressuring her to marry him every time they were together. She hadn’t given in to his frequent sexual advances and was feeling guilty about it, but she just couldn’t go all the way with him. She used the excuse of still being married, but that was fast becoming a lame excuse for she was beginning to want him in her bed. The desire was building. In fact, she looked forward to the sensual kisses and embraces that almost pushed her past the point of no return. She knew she was falling in love with him and was fighting it with all her might.
As she drove, she recalled seeing Richard a couple weeks before. He’d knocked on her door and when she opened it and saw him standing there grinning, holding a guidebook on traveling in Europe in one hand and a bouquet of yellow roses in the other, she couldn’t help but feel love for him. He was perfect. She could find nothing wrong with him.
That evening she had made dinner for him, they sipped wine, and as they cuddled on the sofa, he asked her to marry him once again. With tears in her eyes she had put her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately, not giving him an answer.
He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom and they
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