That was what friends did for each other. When Mark started to give Bonnie a hard time, Libby sided with her friend and called the jerk a cretin. When Shaun tried to act like he was the lord of the manor, Libby gave him as fierce a look as did Bonnie.
“Even though.” Libby didn’t cry as much as she used to about her dad. In the beginning, she had, because she’d been scared because mom was scared, and she’d wanted her dad to be there. But he was just…gone.
That was in the beginning, when the doctors first told Mom about the cancer.
“I already knew that moms and dads shouldn’t trash-talk each other, but I guess I thought that was when they were still together and a team. Tasha, Dad, and Gord are a team.” Bonnie grinned. “And they’re solid. You can’t get your way trying to wheedle between them.”
“I think it’s because of me she doesn’t trash-talk my dad,” Libby said. “I think she’s trying not to say anything to make me hate him.”
“I think you’re right,” Bonnie said.
The original plan had been for the two of them to do their hair and makeup, but this was good. Stretching out on Libby’s double bed and just talking, this was…comforting. “Do you know what? I don’t think I’m the only one who cried because he left. I think mom did, too. And I think she cried a lot when I was so sick. When we didn’t know if I would die.”
“When I had to get my appendix out, my dad nearly lost it. But Tasha and Gord were there, and I think that made it easier for him.”
“I don’t think my mom has ever had anyone there for her when things got icky. There was no one there with us, just the two of us, when we didn’t know if the treatments would work or not.”
“She should have someone. She’s so cool and kind, she deserves to have someone.” Then Bonnie’s eyes seemed to sparkle, and she smiled. “You know what you really need, don’t you?”
Libby did know. It was something that had been going around in her head for some time now. She’d never told Bonnie…but she really should. They were sisters, and sisters could say anything to each other. “Yeah. I need a couple of dads, that’s what I need.”
She’d said it half as a joke. But then she looked at Bonnie, at her friend’s now sneaky smile beaming—Libby just loved Bonnie’s sneaky smile—and then she smiled, too.
“That means fixing your mom up with a couple of hot guys.” Bonnie giggled.
“My mom is beautiful, and kind, and…and special. She’s the best, and she deserves to be happy.” Everything was better here in Lusty. The kids at the school had been so kind, and all the grown-ups, especially Chloe Jessop and Grandma Kate, had been wonderful to her and her mom.
Mostly, she liked how the parents here were a team. She wouldn’t ever want to go through cancer again, and she especially wouldn’t want to go through it alone. But she knew, even at her age, that life sometimes gave you bad stuff you didn’t want.
Having someone there with you, when you were going through that bad stuff? She thought that was everything.
“I agree,” Bonnie said.
“Then help me make a list.” Libby grinned. “You know more people than I do. Help me make a list of prospective dads.”
Bonnie extended her hand, and Libby grasped it. As was their custom, they shook once and sealed it, together, with a single word.
“Deal!”
* * * *
With Libby spending the day after the sleepover at the Dorchesters’ falling on the one Sunday in the month she had off, Rachel had planned to put in a lot of bauble time.
For the first time in forever, though, the art didn’t grab her. She felt fidgety and restless, and that had never happened before. The worst thing was her thoughts wandered down strange, foreign paths.
The thought formed that she might be coming down with something.
You’re not restless, and you’re not sick. You’re just horny.
Rachel recognized that voice, though it had truly been years since she’d last heard it. It was the voice of her inner imp, and she had no earthly idea why the hell it had awakened now.
Don’t you?
Oh, how she hated that nagging, conscience-laden imp! Here she was, trying to be a responsible adult, trying to focus on her daughter and building a good life here in her new home, and that damned imp had to wake up and start making trouble.
Quiet, private time no longer appealed to her. Her baubles no longer appealed to her. She picked up her cell phone and checked the time.
It was nearly noon. No wonder her voice had spoken up! She’d made a big breakfast for the girls before they’d headed off to Bonnie’s, and she’d only had toast and coffee herself.
She needed food. She needed people. But there was no way she wanted to go to Lusty Appetites, not on her day off. Determined to settle her imp and keep her mind off a couple of too-attractive-for-her-own-good men, Rachel scooped her keys and her purse. She fought the urge, because it too was foreign, but she gave in and dashed into the bathroom and took a look at herself in the mirror.
She tended to wear her sable-brown beyond-shoulder-length hair in a messy bun on her days off, as opposed to the tighter, more presentable one she wore at work.
A quick look told her she didn’t need to re-do her hair. Messy was in, after all. Why her hand reached for her lipstick and her mascara she did not know.
All right, so she was a bit more presentable for being out in public than she’d been a few moments before. Rachel rolled her eyes at herself and headed out.
It didn’t take her long to get where she was going. The parking lot at Angel’s Roadhouse showed a respectable
