Amber let the question hang in the air too long. Around them, more customers were coming into the shop, the late-Sunday-afternoon rush before the place closed. The smell of crab cakes frying joined the fudge and baked goods fragrances.
“Well?” Now Hannah looked more suspicious.
“Are you kidding? You know me. I don’t do in-depth relationships. I want to focus on—”
“You can’t use that excuse anymore—that you just want to focus on me. I’m away at college most of the time.”
And God willing, she’d go back to school tomorrow and this worried phase would be short and sweet. “True,” she said, “but you’re still my focus. Or maybe I just don’t do that kind of relationship regardless.”
“Mom. What kind of role model are you for me? What if I said I didn’t do serious relationships?”
“You should do long-term relationships, when you’re ready. You’re so lovable and beautiful and smart.” She reached out and squeezed Hannah’s hand. “Any boy would be lucky to even go out on a date with you, let alone have you for the long-term.”
“And are you saying you’re not lovable?”
The question startled Amber. “Well... No. Of course not.” But the reassuring words weren’t quite true. Amber had had plenty of relationships—too many—but men liked her for how she looked or how fun and carefree she was. And now, when she was a little more haggard and a little less carefree, she probably wasn’t going to have even those kinds of relationships.
Which was fine. Absolutely fine. She was growing beyond them. She liked her independence.
“Back to Paul. The way he looks at you, it’s not just for your gorgeous body.”
Amber frowned down at her skinny self, pictured the scars beneath her shirt. “Oh, right, so gorgeous.” Then she tilted her head to the side and looked at her daughter. “Wait, how does he look at me?”
Hannah snickered. “Like you’re a chocolate milkshake and he’s on his period,” she said. “I wish someone would look at me like that.”
That made Amber giggle. “Drink your milkshake,” she said. She opened her mouth to explain that she couldn’t get involved with Paul, or any man, due to the cancer threat, but she didn’t want to say that to Hannah, because she didn’t want Hannah to worry about her mom’s illness.
“When I next come home,” Hannah said, “I want you to be dating someone seriously. If not Paul, then somebody else.” She sucked up the last of her milkshake.
“Who’s the mom here?” It was a joke between them, because Hannah had a major responsible, maternal side and liked to take care of her mother.
Love for her beautiful daughter filled Amber’s heart. “You’re going back to school, okay? I don’t think you really want to go to the community college with half the kids you went to high school with.” Hannah had inherited a little of Amber’s own sense of adventure, and she was considering study abroad, which the community college didn’t offer.
Hannah smiled. “I’ll go back if you promise to do what I say. Start dating again, and not just the big dumb ones.”
“Hannah!”
“Am I wrong?”
“Well...no. No, you’re not.” Amber had dated way too many guys whose biceps were bigger than their brains. Whereas Paul had plenty of both. “No promises, but I’ll think about it.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“IT WAS GOOD of you to be willing to work over here,” Paul said to Amber Monday morning, across a dining room table full of papers and drawings. “I was surprised to find out Davey’s school is closed today. Stretching out the holiday weekend.”
He didn’t add that it was good to have her in his home, on a casual basis, sharing coffee and working together. He didn’t need to be thinking about how good that part felt.
“Mary seems to be in a big hurry on the project,” Amber said. “And I’m a mom. I get that sometimes schools and day cares aren’t open and you need to get creative.”
Her slightly husky voice played along his nerve endings. I’d like to get creative with you.
As soon as the thought entered his mind, he shooed it away. Totally inappropriate. It was just that she was so pretty, the sunlight from the window playing on her hair, her full lips curving into a smile.
What was that smile about, anyway? Was she reading his mind?
Heat rose up his neck. What was wrong with him, thinking that way about a working partner, someone with whom he could never let things get personal?
Davey came over and leaned against Paul’s leg. “Can we go outside?”
“Later on, buddy,” Paul said. “Let me put on another movie for you.” He didn’t feel great about using the screen as a babysitter, but sometimes it was the best you could do.
“I want to go outside!” Davey’s lower lip stuck out.
Sarge came to the other side of his chair and nudged at him as if adding his agreement to Davey’s plea.
“No whining,” Paul said firmly. “We’ll go outside this afternoon. For now, you can color or play quietly or watch a movie.”
Davey kicked at the table leg, walked over to the living room and threw himself on the floor, head buried in his hands.
Sarge nudged Paul’s hand again and then loped over to Davey and flopped down beside him.
“They’re hard to resist,” Amber said, then added in a low voice, “We could take them outside and let them play while we talk this through.”
“Thanks. I may take you up on that once we have the start of a plan.”
“Sounds good.” They studied the floor plan of the cottage Mary was pretty sure she wanted to buy, the one they’d all visited the other day. It seemed perfect to Paul, with the way it backed onto the water, had a fenced front yard and was big enough for a whole family.
“You know,” Amber said, “we should plan a really fun play area for Victory Cottage. Somewhere a kid would love to be. That makes a huge difference to a parent.”
She
