goodnight. It’s not a major deal, is it?”
She shook her head and her lashes fell across her eyes. “No, of course not.”
“Well, then.” But all his senses vibrated with awareness of the lie, and from the tension he felt in her, even across the inches that separated them, he knew that she recognized it, too. It was a big deal, he just didn’t know exactly what kind of deal it was. Some sort of mileage post, perhaps, on a journey for which he had no road map nor known destination. He only knew that once he passed this post-or had he already done so?-in either case, there could be no going back now to the safe, secure place he’d started from. That place was lost to him forever.
The children were sitting up in their side-by-side twin beds, waiting for him. And holding their breaths, it seemed, from the way they released them when they saw him, in gusts of excited giggles. Beatle leaped down from David’s bed and came to meet him, dancing on her hind legs and shadowboxing in delighted greeting.
Riley said “Hey-” in the gruff, Southern way, and bent down to give the little Chihuahua a tickle as he moved between the beds. “So-” his stomach was jumping with nerves “-you want me to tuck you in, I hear?” Both children nodded eagerly. He frowned sternly at them. “Well, now, I can’t very well do that unless you lie down, can I?”
There were hushed gasps as the two children instantly flopped down onto their pillows, breaths once again held, giggles stifled. David, though, popped right up again and propped himself on one elbow to ask eagerly, “Did you get the computer put together yet?”
“Not yet,” said Riley, “but I’m workin’ on it.”
“I’m pretty good with computers. I could probably help you-you know…if you needed any help-setting it up and stuff.”
“Oh, I’m definitely going to need help. Not tonight, though, okay?” He reached down to touch the boy’s hair, noticing as he did that the dog had jumped up on the bed and, after a few swipes at the kid’s chin with her tongue, was making a nest for herself against the curve of his thin body. Riley remembered then what Summer had told him about David having lost his security blanket in the fire. Did the dog know somehow, he wondered, who was in greatest need of her comfort?
“You’ll tell me when, right?”
“You bet. That’s a promise.” He turned then to the other bed, where the little girl lay rigid in feigned sleep, eyes squinched shut, nubs of baby teeth bared in an irrepressible grin. “And you, missy-” he began, but his voice ran aground on a shoal of gravel. The image of cherub curls and rose-pink cheeks against the pillow blurred and wavered…began to change subtly. Riley’s heart gave a lurch; fighting panic, he forced the child’s face ruthlessly back into focus, cleared his throat and was able to say gruffly, “What’s that you’ve got there?”
Her eyes popped open and she held up the small plastic lizard she’d been clutching to her chest. “Godzilla!”
“Godzilla, huh?” He examined the toy warily. “Looks pretty mean to me. I bet he keeps all the bad guys away.” Helen nodded her enthusiasm. Riley tucked the lizard back beneath her chin and gave her hair a tousle. Almost there, he thought, his heart pounding. Almost done…
“Mr. Riley, could I kiss you g’night?”
Such a wee, small voice to strike such terror into his grown man’s heart. Barely breathing, not allowing himself to think at all, he bent down…and felt the warm little arms encircle his neck…the soft, cool touch, like a kitten’s nose or the petals of a flower against his cheek. Oh, Lord, he couldn’t endure any more, couldn’t hold her a moment longer; the trembling had already begun.
He gave her a quick squeeze, touched his lips to her forehead and rose, vibrating like an out-of-balance top. “Okay,” he said, “g’night, now,” and the words felt like sandpaper in his throat
As he moved away to their singsong duet of “G’night, Mr. Riley,” his eyes sought Summer like homing beacons. And found her in the doorway, leaning against the frame as she’d leaned against the one in his study, with her arms folded across her waist. Watching him. And if he’d expected to see a thank-you, a glow of warmth and appreciation in her eyes, he’d have been sorely disappointed. She looked as if her heart was breaking.
Riley had had the nightmare before, so he knew when he woke in the clammy darkness, wrapped in a familiar spiderweb of dread, that there would be no more sleep for him that night A glance at the clock-radio on his nightstand told him there was at least an hour or two until dawn. So he’d do as he always did at these times, go downstairs, get himself something to drink, a book to read…maybe take another crack at deciphering that computer setup manual. He’d have to be careful not to disturb anyone-and please, God, let the dog be steeping!-but just to be on the safe side, he put on his robe and belted it securely before opening his bedroom door and tiptoeing like a cat burglar into the hallway.
Once downstairs, he could see a faint light coming from the kitchen. Probably Summer had left one on, he thought, in case she or one of the children needed something in the night. It still gave him an odd feeling, that reminder that he was no longer alone in his house. He didn’t know whether it was a good feeling or a bad one-just that it was odd.
He found that it was the light above the stove that was burning. He didn’t turn on any more-didn’t need even that much to get a glass out of the cupboard and fill it with water from the bottle in the refrigerator, so often had he done those things before under these circumstances. But as he was about to leave the room, his hackles suddenly stirred and prickled with the awareness that he really
“Hey.” He changed direction, angling toward her, heart leaping against his throat, water glass in hand. “Couldn’t sleep, either, huh?”
And heard her give a soft, embarrassed laugh. “I was afraid to say anything for fear I’d startle you.”
He gestured toward the mug she was holding between her hands. “What’s that you’re drinking? Hot cocoa?”
She shook her head. “Postum-you probably never heard of it.”
“Huh-I remember buying it-and you’re nght, I’d never heard of it. What is it-a coffee-substitute-type thing?”
She examined the contents of her mug critically, as if they were the result of a scientific experiment she’d just conducted. “I guess it can be, if you make it with water. If you make it with milk and sugar, though, it’s more like cocoa, only no caffeine. My mother used to make it for us when we were kids.” She shrugged. “The children like it. It makes a nice nighttime drink. Sort of comforting.”
“Sounds like just the ticket,” Riley murmured, taking a sip from his water glass.
“Oh-would you like some? I’ll get-” And she was already half out of her chair.
“No, you won’t.” Riley kept her where she was with a hand on her shoulder and put his water glass on the table. “I’m perfectly able to get it myself. What’d you do, microwave it?”
She gave a quick little nod; he could feel her edginess, a coiled-spring tension in the shoulder beneath his hand. “It works best if you dissolve the stuff in a little boiling water first, then add as much milk and sugar as you want and warm it up to however you like it.”
He nodded. “I think I can handle that.” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and left her.
As the space between them widened to a more bearable distance, Summer lifted her mug, carefully cradled between her two hands, held it to her lips and took a long swallow, then rested it against her chin and let the fragrant steam, evocative of the security of childhood, warm and comfort her. It would have been nice, she thought, if Postum could somehow warm the cold and still the shivering she still felt deep inside. But it was plain the beverage’s healing powers could only reach so far.
She watched Riley over the rim of the mug as he worked at the kitchen counter-shoulders broad and hips narrow underneath the navy silk robe, feet and calves bare and oddly defenseless. He was favoring the bruised one… She saw his dark head bending low and intent over the mug as he spooned and poured and stirred, noticing the way the hair grew on the back of his neck and fell unevenly over the wound in his scalp… And like a sneaky wave, a vision surprised her, washed over her and engulfed her…a vision of the way he’d looked last evening, bending down to kiss her children good-night.
She had to blink several times rapidly and sneak deep breaths to restore herself as he came strolling back,
