Elizabeth had tired of the subject. Adam Cavanaugh would probably never speak to her again. He might even terminate her lease after her sister's behavior. "What are you doing here anyway? Don't you have any patients today? And is that the latest in uniforms for physical therapists?"
"That all depends on the kind of therapy one is dispensing," she said with a ribald laugh. "Don't you like the outfit?" Lilah pirouetted and Elizabeth had to admit that her sister looked smashing. "In fact I'm wearing this for one of my patients. He's paraplegic because of a motorcycle accident. He's been bitching that people are prejudiced against bikers, me included. I thought I'd show him just how free-spirited I can be."
Elizabeth's mind backtracked to her conversation with Thad about motorcycles and sitting astride them.
Lilah drew her back to the present. "Written down any fantasies for me?"
"No." Lilah instantly saw through Elizabeth's lie, but before she could take issue with it, a customer entered the store. He looked around uneasily. Elizabeth recognized his symptoms. He was uncomfortable in such a feminine environment, just like a woman would be in a hardware store looking for a particular nut to fit a certain bolt. He was wearing that same lost, bewildered expression. "Can I help you, sir?" she asked him.
"I'm looking for something for my wife. An anniversary gift."
"I have a wide selection of crystal perfume bottles. Would you like to see them?"
Lilah took the brush-off for what it was. She replaced her shawl, then sashayed toward the door. As she went past the nervous man, who was paunchy and balding, she whispered, "Forget the fancy perfume bottles. If you want something that won't collect dust, check out the red satin garter belt."
"…to the carnival Saturday night."
The last several words of Matt's endless monologue jabbed through Elizabeth's headache and disturbing mental review of her meeting with Adam Cavanaugh. The fork she had been mechanically feeding herself with halted midway between her meat loaf and her mouth. "Carnival?"
"The Fall Festival at school, Mom," Megan patiently explained. She was much like John. He had been a stickler for details. Always organized, on time, and in control. While Elizabeth was unfailingly absentminded, her daughter never forgot anything.
"Oh, of course. The Fall Festival." She remembered sticking a notice to that effect on the refrigerator door a week or so ago. Glancing toward it now, she saw that the photocopied bulletin had been covered up by a crayon drawing of a grinning jack-o-lantern and six flying ghosts. "It's this Saturday night?"
"From seven till nine-thirty," Megan informed her. "And we want to stay for the whole time, don't we, Matt?"
"Yeah. The raffle drawing for the compact-disc player isn't until nine-fifteen, so we can't leave before then. Thad said so too."
"Thad? What does he have to do with it?"
"I invited him to go with us."
Elizabeth's fork clattered to her plate. "You didn't really, did you?" she demanded of her son when she was able to speak again.
Matt looked at her warily and nodded his head up and down. "This afternoon."
"And what did he say?" She dreaded to hear.
"He said sure."
Elizabeth rolled her lips inward to keep from uttering the swearwords that surged to mind. "How could you do that, Matt, without consulting me first? I can't believe you did such a thing."
"She said I could."
"Who said you could?"
"My teacher. Miss Blanchard. Both parents are s'pposed to come to the festival. Everybody else has a mom and a dad. Since I don't have a dad I asked her if I could 'nvite somebody else and she said I could." His lower lip pooched out and began to tremble. "But you won't let Thad come with us. You won't let us do anything fun. You're mean! You're the meanest mom in the whole world."
In tears, the boy raced from the table, knocking over his glass of milk in the process. Elizabeth let him go. Her head fell forward into her waiting hands. She dismally watched the milk pool on the table, then dribble over the edge onto the tile floor, and still she didn't move.
It had been difficult for Matt when he started public kindergarten and realized that most children had a living father, even if he was divorced from the child's mother and lived in a separate house. Matt had been just a toddler when John was killed, so he didn't remember what it was like to have a father. Elizabeth had spent hours explaining John's death to him. But to a five-year-old child, a deceased father was a difficult concept to grasp, much less become reconciled to.
"Mom, the milk's dripping all over the floor. Do you want me to clean it up?"
Elizabeth raised her head and smoothed her hand over Megan's straight, wheat-colored hair. "No, darling. I'll do it. But thank you for offering."
"I told Matt maybe he should ask you first."
"I'll talk to him when he's had a chance to calm down."
"Are you going to let Thad come with us?"
Her daughter's wistful tone hit Elizabeth like a steamroller. Every little girl needed a daddy and Megan missed having one. "Of course he can come," she heard herself saying as she forced a smile.
After the dishes were done, she went in search of her son and found him sprawled across his bed, his Pooh bear tucked under his arm. Dried tears had left salty tracks on his cheeks. Elizabeth sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over to kiss his forehead.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you." He said nothing, but swallowed a sob. "I was surprised, that's all." She explained why she should have been consulted before he issued the invitation. "But I guess it's all right this time."
His cloudy eyes cleared immediately. "He can come?"
"If he wants to."
"Gee, that'll be great!"
Yeah, great, Elizabeth thought. After the children were in bed, she reasoned that Thad might be as unenthusiastic about attending the school carnival as she was to have him along. He might have accepted the invitation out of pity for her fatherless children. Shouldn't she give him an opportunity to back out gracefully?
She removed her apron and applied fresh lipstick before walking across the dark lawns. He was sitting in an easy chair on his back porch. Over the weekend he had covered the screens with glass panels to winterize the room. By the light of the TV set, she could see a tray with the remains of his dinner on it. A steak and a beer.
He wasn't watching the television, but reading a magazine. She wondered if it was a men's magazine full of pictures of naked women. If so, now wasn't a good time to come calling. But she'd come this far and she wanted to get this over with as soon as possible so she could stop dreading it. He didn't notice her until she knocked. His head came around and his eyes speared into her like twin lasers.
He left his chair and switched off the TV set before opening the door. He had laid the magazine down in the seat of his chair; Elizabeth didn't have a chance to see the cover.
"Hi," she said awkwardly.
"Hi. Come in."
"No, I, uh, can't stay but a minute. I left the children sleeping." She wasn't about to go into his house alone. What if some of the other neighbors saw her? Human nature being what it was, they would jump to the wrong conclusions. Gossip would spread as quickly as wildfire.
He stepped through the door and reached behind him to close it. "Is something wrong?"
"No. Well, that is, I hope not." She wasn't making any sense and knew he must think she was a jibbering fool. As well as she could remember, she'd never spoken a coherent word to this man. There was no reason for her to be so nervous. He was just a man, for heaven's sake… but so much man.
"Matt told me he invited you to the Fall Festival at his school," she said in a breathless rush.