“No kid should suffer for the sins of his parents.”
Alice nodded, grateful that Peter and Karen had protected her so well from that. “I know that intellectually Libby believes that, but with Leo she has blinders on.”
“Give her time.”
“Unfortunately, there really isn’t very much time to give.”
Harry poured sand through his fingers. “You look at the little guy and see the child you can’t have, don’t you?”
She was horrified by his perceptiveness. “Is it that obvious to everyone?”
“Probably not. I was just watching you with him at my place.” He cleared his throat.
“Let’s have dinner.”
“Um … We just consumed an entire month’s fat intake.”
“I mean a real meal.”
She rubbed her belly. “I don’t think I could even manage an ice cream.”
“Not tonight, Alice. Another time, at a restaurant.”
“Like when we celebrated with Holly?”
The tips of Harry’s ears glowed red and he swore softly. “Without the kids and Brutus.”
Realization slowly dawned and a zip of excitement fizzed around her. “You mean, like a date?”
“Yes!” His breath came out ragged as if he’d just run a race. “Would that be something—”
“Dad!” Sand flew as Hunter slid in between them. “You said we could fly the kites.”
“It’s getting a bit late. School tomorrow.”
“But—”
“Dad, can I have a cell phone?” Holly plonked down next to them. “I’m the only girl at school who doesn’t have one.”
“I doubt that.”
“It’s true!”
“We’ll talk about it later, okay?”
Holly faced Alice. “You think I need a phone, don’t you?”
Alice was still buzzy from Harry’s convoluted attempt at asking her out. “I—um. I think it’s something you and your dad need to discuss.”
“I thought you were my friend!” Holly pouted.
“That’s enough, Hol,” Harry said firmly.
“I thought we were flying kites,” Hunter whined.
“And I thought we were having an enjoyable evening until you two started behaving like brats.” Harry shot to his feet, one hundred per cent father. “Come on, pack up. We’re going home.”
“But, Dad—”
“Do. It. Quietly.” Harry folded up the picnic blanket and clipped the lead on Brutus before giving Alice a wry smile. “Kids, eh? Catch you later?”
“Sure. Text me.”
“Text you?”
For a man who seemed to read her like a book, sometimes he had serious lapses of social clues. “You know, about that idea of yours …”
It was like watching a movie in slow motion. Confusion gave way to comprehension and then his lips twitched into a smile reminiscent of the one he’d given her when he’d dipped her. Butterflies flittered in her stomach.
“I’m not the best texter. How about I call you?”
“That would be great.”
Alice sat back on her haunches, rolled her shoulders and ignored the pain in her knees. A rainbow of chalk colors streaked her hands, her loose work pants and likely her face and hair, but finally, the mural was ready to be sealed. Drawing it had been a mental escape from the confronting reality of Jess’s diagnosis and Libby’s intransigence.
Alice used her finger to smooth out the color around a sea star but she knew it was an act of procrastination. The council members had all trooped past ten minutes earlier, unanimously approving the large pavement mural. Now Lionel, one of the maintenance blokes, was waiting with the roller and a can of clear coat to make it permanent.
“It’s incredible, Al,” a familiar voice said.
She glanced up to see Dan standing behind her along with a large group of onlookers. Most of the women were looking at him, not the mural, and Alice understood why. The late afternoon sunshine lit his hair golden like a crown and the rest of his good looks and toned body dazzled the mortals. But the cheeky grin he usually cast widely was absent, replaced by an appreciative smile that was focused on her work.
“Thanks, Dan. I’m pretty happy with how it’s turned out.”
“You can see every feather on the swan.”
“It’s amazing, isn’t it? But I can’t take any credit for that. Holly Waxman pointed out that a mural depicting Kurnai Bay must have a swan. She wowed me with her preliminary sketch so I said have at it. But the rest is all me.”
“It’s like standing on the reef at low tide with Neptune’s lace squishing between your toes.”
That was one of the unexpected things about her friendship with Dan—he was a natural cheerleader and it gave her a warm fuzzy feeling every time.
Hunter appeared, wriggling his way through the crowd. “Hi, Alice. You drew the blue-ring octopus!”
Alice laughed at his delighted incredulity that she’d taken his suggestion. “There are two so people know what they look like before they light up.”
“That’s so cool!”
“Dan, this is Hunter Waxman,” Alice said. “My rock pool guru.”
“G’day, Hunter. Do you draw like your sister?”
“Nah. I play soccer and cricket.”
“Excellent,” Dan said easily. “Great swan, Holly.”
Holly, who’d just arrived with Harry, flushed bright pink but she didn’t look down at her feet. In fact, she seemed pleased by the compliment. “Thanks, Mr. Van.”
Alice hadn’t connected the fact that Dan might know Holly from substitute teaching, but judging by the teen’s blush, he was obviously popular. Harry was glancing between Dan, Alice and his daughter, clearly uncertain of the connection. Dan shot out his hand.
“Dan van den Berg. I’ve been teaching Holly math while Kira Lester’s on leave.”
“Harry Waxman.” He shook Dan’s hand. “So, it’s you I’ve got to thank for her sudden enthusiasm for the subject?”
“Dad!” Holly blushed.
“What? You told me the other day how much you love math.”
Alice hid her smile. Poor Harry. He’d told her over dinner earlier in the week that being a father of a teenage girl was more bewildering than string theory. Their date, if you could call it that, had been an odd evening. Harry had
