Alice was happy her sister had finally exorcised the fulminating rage that had consumed her for months, and she was extremely relieved to see the old Libby back, interacting with Leo with the same degree of care she’d lavished on him from birth to sixteen months. In the worst of situations, it was the best possible outcome for everyone, but knowing that didn’t prevent a seam of loss from opening inside Alice.
When Jess had asked Alice to raise Leo, she’d experienced one perfect moment—her chance to love and raise a child. It lasted a split second, before the real cost of such a decision had opened out in front of her, revealing its stark and uncompromising truth. Jess was the perfect example of the high price that came with taking something that wasn’t hers and losing everything. No matter how much Alice wanted a child, she wasn’t prepared to risk Leo’s wellbeing or the love of her family.
What about Dan?
Or Dan! Of course, Dan. That went without saying.
She was still wrapping her head around thinking of her and Dan as a couple, because on a day-to-day basis not a lot had changed. In fact, for only the second time since they’d started their arrangement, she’d missed Thursday night dinner. With everyone focused on making Jess’s last weeks count, it seemed wrong to announce they were together. As she’d told Dan, “With Jess and summer, I don’t have the headspace to move.”
He’d told her not to stress. “I get it, Al. We’re both busy, busy. Let’s wait until the end of January when we’ve both got more time and then we can enjoy telling everyone.”
So that was the new plan, and although she’d intended to leave a toothbrush at Dan’s, she hadn’t gotten around to that yet either, as she’d been sleeping at Jess’s most nights. They managed to grab a quick lunch every few days at the hamburger joint next to his surf school’s storage container and she’d told him that Libby and Jess had reconciled, but she hadn’t mentioned how much she was missing her daytime jaunts with Leo. It wasn’t something she felt comfortable talking to him about, but then again, she hadn’t told anyone else either. She’d planned to tell Harry two nights earlier when he’d dropped Holly off for tutoring, but by the time she’d listened to Hunter telling her about his wicket-taking ball at cricket, Harry was saying, “No time for lollygagging, Hunter. You’ll be late for practice.”
When he’d returned to collect Holly, instead of hopping out for a chat, he’d tapped his horn and Holly had run to the car. Harry hadn’t done that for months. It had taken Alice by surprise, but then again, nothing had felt the same between them since their lackluster date, and she’d hardly seen him since the uncomfortable mural dinner. She kept telling herself it didn’t matter.
Except it did matter. Harry was the only person she could talk to about Leo.
His withdrawal ticked her off. Okay, so their date had proved that despite the delicious zips of attraction that had arced between them, none were strong enough to survive an evening alone together without Holly and Hunter to fill the awkward moments. And really, it was good she knew and understood that now. If they hadn’t gone on the date, she might still be wondering if there was something between them, and then she couldn’t have committed to Dan, and her love life would still be in the holding pattern it had been in for fifteen months.
But it wasn’t and she and Dan had a plan. She smiled at the rhyme. And Dan, unlike Harry, wasn’t serious and deep and uncannily perceptive. What you saw was what you got with Dan—an uncomplicated pleasure seeker. And more importantly, he wanted her.
But damn it! She and Harry had shared a lot this year and she thought they were close friends. Maybe she should go and see him and ask him what was going on? Except … was that crossing the boundary line Harry had obviously drawn after their failed date? Was she back to being the tutor?
She suddenly remembered she’d been paid for the mural and she pulled out her phone.
Hi, Harry, Alice here.
Duh! He’d know it was her, because her name was in his phone. She hit the backspace.
Hope all is well?
This was business. Again, she pressed the backspace.
I have $100 for Holly’s work on the swan. Can I stop by and drop off the cash? Alice
Immediately, pulsing dots appeared on her phone as Harry typed. Anticipation fizzed. Tingling delight spun through her and her thighs automatically tightened. Horrified, she hastily put the phone down. It didn’t mean anything. It was just the communication method triggering a response that had been established during all those weeks of texting Tim. After all, it sometimes happened when Dan texted.
It’s supposed to happen when Dan texts. It’s not supposed to happen with Harry.
“Hello, Alice, dear. You look pretty. Pink cheeks suit you.” Elsie Gregson and her walker stopped in the doorway.
A line of walkers banked up behind her and Roy Barton called out, “Hurry up, Elsie, you’re gumming up the works.”
“Patience is a virtue, Roy,” Elsie said.
“Bugger that. I’ve got too much to do and not enough time.” Roy winked at Alice. “Good to have you back, love.”
“It’s good to be back.”
“How’s your sick friend?”
Once Alice would have said, “Jess is Libby’s friend,” but the correction didn’t seem important anymore. “She’s fighting hard. It’s her son’s second birthday tomorrow.”
“That’s something worth fighting for.”
Alice nodded and blew her nose. “Let’s get started.”
With the usual friendly wrangling from the residents, it took a few minutes to get everyone settled into their seats. Then Alice took time to look at each of their projects, checking for any progress during her absence.
“Trudi did her best,” Cynthia offered when Alice tried to hide her dismay at some of the pages.
