basketball in the winter, baseball in spring, Craig coached them all. And in the summers, he
played on no less than three softball teams. On his off nights, he volunteered his time at
the little league fields.
It was no wonder they'd only had one child.
She took a package of ground beef from the freezer, wishing she could remember where
his game was tonight and if he'd be home at a reasonable hour. Out-of-town games would
get him home at eleven or later. If the game was at the gym, he'd be home by nine thirty.
She'd make up a casserole. If he was hungry when he got home, at least she'd have
something. If not, then tomorrow's dinner was already prepared.
She sighed, wondering when her marriage had evolved into this, wondering if all marriages
got this way after nearly twenty years. They rarely talked. Hell, they rarely saw each
other. Their sex life had become the obligatory once-a-week whether they wanted to or
not. That was once a week on a good week. More often than not, Jill was in bed and asleep
when Craig made it home. And that was another issue with her mother-in-law—Jill should
be out supporting Craig, going to his games. After all, that's what the other wives did.
Which was bullshit, of course. And Craig didn't expect her to travel to games, just to
watch him coach. It was ridiculous. However, he did want her to attend his summer softball
games. And she did on occasion. She knew most of the other wives and got on well with
them. But it got old, sitting for hours, watching a bunch of grown men acting like
teenagers, each trying to outdo the other and show off their softball prowess.
Changing out of her business clothes, she slipped on a comfortable pair of sweats and an
old baggy shirt of Craig's. As she robotically began preparing dinner, she poured a glass of
wine, something she'd been indulging in for the last year or so. Neither she nor Craig were
big drinkers, although he did enjoy an occasional beer with his softball buddies. But she'd
bought a bottle of red wine on a whim one day and enjoyed having a glass with dinner.
Dinner that she most often ate alone or with Angie. Lately, she'd begun enjoying a glass
during the preparation of dinner too.
As she systematically added onions to the beef, she thought of the woman she'd met that
day. Again, that nagging feeling of familiarity crept over her. She leaned a hip against the
counter as she added more wine to her glass, wondering if she'd see her again tomorrow.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jill waved to her assistant at noon as the younger woman left for lunch. Jill always enjoyed
the quiet in the office from noon until one. The phone rarely rang, giving her time to
concentrate on the books. Accounting was a skill she had to forcibly learn when she took
this job. Surprisingly, she found she was very good at it, intuitively so. But she hated
interruptions. And now that she had an assistant to take care of the mundane chores
around the small office, she could afford to close her door, shutting herself off while she
balanced the accounts.
But now during lunch, her door was wide open on the off chance a customer might come in
while Harriet was gone. Their business was still relatively small but had grown considerably
since Johnny had taken over. He was more hands-on than his father had been, beating them
to the office each morning, then leaving at nine to check on the various construction crews
he had out in the field. Whereas his father ran the office and relied on his crews to run
the construction end of things, Johnny allowed Jill to run the office while he managed the
crews. It had been a profitable change for the business. A change that kept them all busy
from eight to five.
But now Jill found herself watching the clock, wishing for one p.m. to arrive. She was
anxious for her own lunch hour, anxious to go to the park. For some reason, she couldn't
get Carrie Howell out of her mind. Even this morning, after Angie had thrown a fit about
Jill not being able to take her to band practice at four, she longed for the quiet hour when
she could escape to the park. God forbid Angie should hang around school for forty-five
minutes until practice started.
"Mom, that's for losers. Those without a ride."
"Well, it looks like you'll be a loser today. Unless your grandmother can take you."
"Of course, push your motherly duties off on Grandma," she said sarcastically.
"My motherly duties right now include working from eight to five. I don't have the luxury
of being home all day like your grandmother."
"I can't wait until I'm old enough to drive. Then I won't have to rely on you anymore," she
spat.
"Your grandmother's going to buy you a car, is she?"
"Dad promised I could have a car," she yelled.
"Yes. I think he promised you my old Subaru."
Tears welled up immediately. "I'm not driving that piece of crap! I'll be laughed out of high
school."
She ran screaming from the room and Jill rubbed her temples, wishing once again that
Craig was here to witness one of her little fits.
And after a completely silent trip to school, one that ended with Angie slamming the door
on the Subaru, Jill escaped to the quiet and calm of her eight-to-five job.
She looked again at the clock, watching the hands move to twelve thirty, knowing she was
getting absolutely no work done as she listened to the ticking of the clock.
Finally, with only five minutes to go, she began getting ready, saving the little work she'd
done, closing down her computer. She walked to the tiny break room and retrieved her
sandwich from the refrigerator, then grabbed a plastic bottle of water and waited
patiently at her desk. As soon as she saw Harriet drive up, she rushed to the door, meeting
her on the sidewalk.
"You're in a hurry today," Harriet said. "Got a date?"
Jill laughed. "A date with a park bench, yes."
"Well have fun. See you at two."
Yes, she was in a hurry today and the morning had been endless. And the anticipation she'd
been feeling all day manifested itself tenfold as she approached the park. She didn't pause
to wonder why she was in such a hurry to get to the park, in such a hurry to see if Carrie
Howell was there today. Again, that feeling that she was being controlled in some way,
being guided to the park, settled over her and she knew it would be futile to try to
challenge it. She didn't want to challenge it.
She wanted to see Carrie Howell.
And as she eased onto her park bench, letting the sun warm her, she looked around, her
eyes searching for the other woman. A moment of panic hit when she didn't see her on
first glance, then through the trees, near the lake, she stood. Easel again today.
Jill felt a wave of relief wash over her at the sight of the other woman. She couldn't
explain the comfort she felt, knowing Carrie was here. Without thought, she unwrapped
her sandwich, eating and chewing methodically as she watched Carrie.
Then, as if sensing her eyes on her, Carrie turned and stared right at her. Jill stopped
chewing, her throat tight as she imagined those pale blue eyes looking at her. Carrie lifted
a hand in greeting and Jill did the same. It wasn't until Carrie turned back around that Jill
was able to swallow again.
What is wrong with you?
But she had no answer. She simply had an overwhelming urge to be near the woman. And
before long, she would get her wish as Carrie walked toward her. Jill hastily wiped her