As if they were the only two people in the universe who realized there was an avalanche big enough to destroy them all. Maybe no one else saw it. But they did. Maybe no one else had a clue. But they did.
All morning he’d tried to reassure himself that he wasn’t falling. It should have helped that she’d been as unreasonable as a shrew with PMS that morning. But it hadn’t.
After a morning of major plumbing messes, apparently lawn mowing, then running out of diesel, Amanda was still Amanda. Her scoop-neck top had grass stains; her shorts looked almost wrinkled…but they matched. Pale blue and dark blue. Her hair hadn’t seen a brush in a while, which meant it was like copper on fire in the sunlight, pretty wild…but she still had on lip gloss, cute sandals, earrings.
She almost fell under the weight of the diesel can, but she managed to pluck it out of the trunk, her smile fifty times more powerful than a kilowatt. “You don’t have to thank me,” she chattered on. “I owed you, for all the stuff you’ve done for me. I was totally happy to find something I could do the other way around! I just didn’t realize how much fuel it would take to mow both yards. Or how much fuel they put in to start with. And it took me a little while to figure out how to run it. I’ve never mowed grass before! Would you believe it?!”
He believed it. It just didn’t seem wise to agree with her, much less while she was still struggling with the fuel container. “You want me to do that for you?”
“No, no sweat, I can do it!”
“Amanda.”
“Huh?”
He tried to make his voice sound light and conversational and delicate-although possibly he was incapable of managing “delicate.” “Who sold you this mower?”
“Oh. The hardware store. The guy was wonderful. Seriously. Gave me exactly what I asked for.”
He aimed for the same ultralight tone. “And you asked for…?”
“I told him that I only wanted to buy one mower in a lifetime, so for sure I didn’t want junk. And I wanted one with power, because I’m not particularly physically strong. I wanted quality, serious dependability, nothing that I’d have trouble servicing…”
Okay, he was beginning to see how she’d gotten in so much trouble. She’d asked good questions. She’d just asked the wrong salesperson. “Did he ask you what size yard you have?”
“Sure. But it’s not as if I had the exact dimensions. I just told him straight.
She’d made a terrible choice. It wasn’t just the money, but that it was way too much machine for what she needed. But suddenly that wasn’t the point. Her breathtaking smile had completely disappeared now, and in its place was a look of uncertainty…fragility.
In a flash, he realized he’d seen that look of raw uncertainty before. This morning. In between moments when she’d more or less been chewing him up, no matter what he said. Still. There’d been glimpses of That Look.
He remembered her saying more than once that she’d been raised as a spoiled, sheltered princess.
But he hadn’t added it up before. How much she’d been life-crippled by her background, and how much that bothered her. The basic practical information most people knew, she just plain didn’t. Common sense wasn’t common, not the way she was raised. And she was trying. Watching her with the plunger and the “Dare To Repair” book that morning…watching her in the hardware store, picking out tools, painting on her own, and yeah, now, diving into the mechanics of lawn mowing and mowers.
“What?” she said impatiently. “You think I didn’t pick the right machine?”
“I think you’re brilliant. That you picked the best.”
The shoulders eased. The smile went back to being shiny and disarming…and sexy. “Well. I know I didn’t know what I was doing. But I tried to ask the right questions-”
“You’re going to be the envy of the neighborhood.”
“I don’t care about that. But I can do this. My lawn. Your lawn. That kind of maintenance. There’s no reason I should have to ask for help. Or hire it out.”
He didn’t look back at the butcher job. And if anyone else made a remark to her, well, he’d just have to kill them.
As if suddenly realizing he wasn’t the center of attention, Teddy edged forward and said to Amanda, “Guess what? I went to the dentist this morning. For the first time in my whole life. The dentist let me squirt the water. It was really cool.”
Mike stared at his son, astonished at Teddy’s volunteering such a creative version of this morning’s events. But then, men seemed genetically programmed to reinvent certain events or truths, if it meant impressing a female they cared about.
Damn. It was getting harder and harder to deny it. It wasn’t just his son who cared. Mike was sinking in deeper and thicker than quicksand. He just didn’t know what to do about it.
Clouds bunched in fists. Thunder grumbled, bringing on another session of wild, slashing rain. Amanda glanced next door as she raced to the car.
She’d barely seen Mike in the past two weeks, except in passing.
They waved when they saw each other. One morning, Teddy had popped in to ask for a couple of eggs. One afternoon, she’d sent Molly next door with a fresh strawberry-rhubarb pie.
She’d mowed his lawn. He’d sent over quotes for electric fences.
She’d sent a response to his fence quotes. One night, Thom had stopped by-to fight about custody, naturally- and she’d stepped out on the deck so Molly wouldn’t hear the heated words. Across the way, she’d seen Mike choose that time to put a foot up on his deck-he was ostensibly holding a bottle of beer, but she had no doubt he’d have charged over if Thom had gotten out of hand.
She was invisibly watching over him, too. For instance, she’d bandaged Teddy’s knee when she’d seen his son take a tumble on the concrete drive.
They were taking care of each other-and avoiding each other at the same time. That couldn’t go on forever, obviously, but as far as Amanda could tell, they were both being smart. Why stroll in woods that was filled with poison ivy?
She turned the windshield wipers on full, glanced at her GPS, tried to take her mind off Mike. Her father had kidnapped Molly for a day at the Fields Museum, so storms or no storms, she needed to take advantage of the free time. June was sneaking into July. She’d already researched preschools and pediatricians, but she wanted to do an eyes-on before committing to either for sure.
Ten minutes later, she parked in front of Denise and Dan’s Play School-and got half soaked just running the few steps from the car. Sandals squeaking, hat dripping, she opened the shiny red door. Naturally she’d called ahead to tour the facility. Dan-the dad of the D &D team-was waiting for her. His easy smile was the first thing that won her over. Everything about him-and the place-radiated a love and understanding for little ones.
She loved what she saw. There was a music room, a plant room, a “critter” room-a place where live animals were either borrowed or housed, from aquariums to turtles and spiders and hamsters. The last door on the right was clearly an art room, where smocks hung on hooks, and the walls were exuberantly finger painted.
The bathrooms were spotless, the facilities all miniature-sized-yet there were also high shelves that stocked underpants and other emergency replacement clothing in a variety of sizes. A central room included a locked refrigerator, where milk and fruits were stored. Available snacks were listed, fruits, nut bars, no cookies allowed except for special occasions.
A gigantic bathtub, near a window, was piled high with pillows and blankets. “Not for naps,” Dan explained. “But kids sometimes get stomachaches. Or just want to curl up and have some quiet time. When a four-year-old gets out of control, our philosophy is…of course, to remove them from the situation and give them a chance to control themselves. But before we make that into a penalty, we try the curl-up in the tub thing. Most of the time, a child wants to get under control. They just don’t know how yet. So…”
He opened the front door for her, still talking. Outside, rain still sluiced down, turning green leaves emerald and putting a sting of freshness in the air. She reached in her jacket pocket for her hat, still listening to Dan, but trying to hurry along now. “So you need me to let you know within the next couple of weeks.”
“That would be best. We’re almost booked up now-”
“Well, it’s yes, I can tell you right now. I’d have brought the checkbook if I’d known for sure what a terrific
