“The wedding ring is a defense mechanism, in my opinion,” Ethan said. “Jenny’s been gone awhile. You could take it off and no one would think less of you. Not that I’m an expert in these things.”
Boone regarded him with disdain. “Since you won’t even date because the last woman you cared about left you emotionally scared for life, you’ll have to pardon me if I don’t take your advice seriously.”
“Actually not dating has left me a lot of time to observe other couples,” Ethan countered, essentially confirming Boone’s accusation that he wasn’t in the game himself. “I’ve picked up some useful information about the stupid things people do in the name of love. I’m more than happy to share them with you, if you’re in the mood to toss a couple of steaks on the grill tonight.”
Boone wasn’t sure he was in the mood for advice, well-meant or not, but he wasn’t looking forward to his own company, either.
“Six o’clock okay?” he asked his friend.
“I’ll be there,” Ethan said. “I’ll bring a six-pack or would you rather have something stronger?”
“An occasional beer’s pretty much my limit,” Boone said. “Much as I might like to drown my sorrows, I can’t do it when I’m responsible for B.J.”
“Fair enough,” Ethan said. “See you this evening.”
Boone went into the reception area, paid for B.J.’s treatment, then gestured for B.J. to go outside.
After they were in the car, Boone turned to his son. “I’m sorry about before,” he said quietly. “I never meant to upset you.”
A single tear tracked down B.J.’s cheek. “And I don’t really hate you.”
Boone smiled and opened his arms. B.J. crawled over the console and scrambled into them. “I know, buddy. Sometimes we’re both going to say things we regret. We always need to find a way to forgive each other, okay?”
“What about Emily?” B.J. asked, proving that his mind had a single track. “Are you going to forgive her? She must have said something really bad for you to be so mad at her.”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Boone said.
“But she’s my friend.”
“I know. And we’ll work things out. I promise.” He just wished he had the first clue how they might do that if she truly believed what she’d said to him earlier.
* * *
Emily was filled with trepidation as she followed her grandmother’s directions to Boone’s house. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t the charming little white bungalow on an inlet with a screened-in side porch and a yard full of deep blue hydrangeas. The flowers were a little the worse for wear after the storm, but enough of the huge blooms remained to add just the right touch of old-fashioned summer color.
As she pulled to a stop, she spotted B.J. sitting at the end of a pier with a fishing pole. Because she was in no hurry for an uncomfortable confrontation with Boone, she walked out on the pier.
B.J. regarded her with surprise and a little caution. “How come you’re here? I thought you and Dad were fighting.”
“Is that what he said?”
B.J. nodded.
“Well, the truth is that I said something I never should have said,” she admitted. “I came to apologize. Is he inside?”
B.J. nodded, then held out his arm. “I had my stitches taken out and I didn’t cry,” he said proudly.
She grinned at him. “Wow! That’s really great. I knew you were brave.”
“I wanted you to be there, but Dad wouldn’t call you.”
“I’m sorry, but you obviously did just fine without me.” She hunkered down beside him. “So, are you catching anything?”
“Not really. I’m just staying out of the way while Daddy does some business before dinner.”
“I see.”
B.J.’s expression brightened. “Maybe you could stay for dinner. Dr. Cole’s coming, too.”
“I don’t think so,” Emily said. “I just came to talk to your dad for a few minutes. I won’t be here long.”
“But Dad’s grilling steak. It’ll be really good,” B.J. said enthusiastically. “We’re having corn on the cob, too. Dad says it might be the end of it for the summer because the hurricane hurt the farmers real bad around here.”
Just then the back door opened and Boone stepped outside, surprise and caution registering on his face when he saw her with his son.
Emily stood up, took a step in his direction, then paused. “Could we talk?” she asked. “It won’t take long.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Come on inside. B.J., you have fifteen minutes, then you need to come in and wash up, okay? Ethan will be here soon.”
“Okay. I asked Emily to stay for dinner, but she said no. Maybe you should ask her.”
“We’ll see,” Boone said, committing to nothing. “Maybe she has plans.”
Emily followed him into a bright, airy open kitchen with granite countertops, stainless-steel appliances and windows everywhere. She couldn’t have designed a more welcoming room herself.
“I love what you’ve done with the kitchen,” she told him. “I imagine it wasn’t like this when you bought the house.”
“Not even close,” he confirmed. “I think the white appliances it had were original to the house and barely functioning.”
He gestured across the room. “There was a wall in here, too, right about there. It created a formal dining room not much bigger than a closet. Jenny saw the possibilities before I did. She knew exactly what she wanted in here down to the handles on the cabinets,” he said. “All I did was tell the contractor to follow her directions.”
“She had a good eye.” She met his gaze. “I know I’ve said it before, but I really am sorry you lost her.”
“So am I. She was a wonderful person. She didn’t deserve what happened.”
“What did happen?” she asked, curious to know the real story. If Cora Jane knew, she’d been very circumspect about filling in the blanks. Maybe she’d figured it was Boone’s story to tell if and when Emily was ready to hear it.
“A massive infection,” he said. “She thought she’d caught some kind of
