They waved when they saw each other. One morning, Teddy had popped in to ask for a couple of eggs. One afternoon, she’d sent Molly next door with a fresh strawberry-rhubarb pie.
She’d mowed his lawn. He’d sent over quotes for electric fences.
She’d sent a response to his fence quotes. One night, Thom had stopped by-to fight about custody, naturally-and she’d stepped out on the deck so Molly wouldn’t hear the heated words. Across the way, she’d seen Mike choose that time to put a foot up on his deck-he was ostensibly holding a bottle of beer, but she had no doubt he’d have charged over if Thom had gotten out of hand.
She was invisibly watching over him, too. For instance, she’d bandaged Teddy’s knee when she’d seen his son take a tumble on the concrete drive.
They were taking care of each other-and avoiding each other at the same time. That couldn’t go on forever, obviously, but as far as Amanda could tell, they were both being smart. Why stroll in woods that was filled with poison ivy?
She turned the windshield wipers on full, glanced at her GPS, tried to take her mind off Mike. Her father had kidnapped Molly for a day at the Fields Museum, so storms or no storms, she needed to take advantage of the free time. June was sneaking into July. She’d already researched preschools and pediatricians, but she wanted to do an eyes-on before committing to either for sure.
Ten minutes later, she parked in front of Denise and Dan’s Play School-and got half soaked just running the few steps from the car. Sandals squeaking, hat dripping, she opened the shiny red door. Naturally she’d called ahead to tour the facility. Dan-the dad of the D &D team-was waiting for her. His easy smile was the first thing that won her over. Everything about him-and the place-radiated a love and understanding for little ones.
She loved what she saw. There was a music room, a plant room, a “critter” room-a place where live animals were either borrowed or housed, from aquariums to turtles and spiders and hamsters. The last door on the right was clearly an art room, where smocks hung on hooks, and the walls were exuberantly finger painted.
The bathrooms were spotless, the facilities all miniature-sized-yet there were also high shelves that stocked underpants and other emergency replacement clothing in a variety of sizes. A central room included a locked refrigerator, where milk and fruits were stored. Available snacks were listed, fruits, nut bars, no cookies allowed except for special occasions.
A gigantic bathtub, near a window, was piled high with pillows and blankets. “Not for naps,” Dan explained. “But kids sometimes get stomachaches. Or just want to curl up and have some quiet time. When a four-year-old gets out of control, our philosophy is…of course, to remove them from the situation and give them a chance to control themselves. But before we make that into a penalty, we try the curl-up in the tub thing. Most of the time, a child wants to get under control. They just don’t know how yet. So…”
He opened the front door for her, still talking. Outside, rain still sluiced down, turning green leaves emerald and putting a sting of freshness in the air. She reached in her jacket pocket for her hat, still listening to Dan, but trying to hurry along now. “So you need me to let you know within the next couple of weeks.”
“That would be best. We’re almost booked up now-”
“Well, it’s yes, I can tell you right now. I’d have brought the checkbook if I’d known for sure what a terrific facility you have.”
She turned around, stepped down, and…wham. Another burst of thunder and lightning startled her-not coming from the skies, but from Mike.
He was headed up at the same time she was headed down. Their eyes met, and there it was, the chemistry of the century. Even with her hair frizzing up and her face washed of makeup, she felt conscious of her breasts, her pelvis. Her skin, the beat in her throat.
The preschool owner was still talking, as if he had no clue Armageddon was taking place on his school steps. Mike smiled, slow and easy, but he was still taking a lazy sip of how she looked, and she was drinking in his damp hair and sassy eyes and long, lanky frame just as zealously.
Naturally, she got a grip. “You’re checking out the preschool?”
“Yeah. Been making the rounds all morning.”
She gave him a thumbs-up, to show him her vote on the facility, but Dan immediately engaged him in conversation, so she had every excuse to continue on her way.
There, she thought. Both of them had managed that beautifully. Easy. Comfortable with each other-but neither risking a step closer to harm’s way.
Maybe Amanda wasn’t strong, but she was getting stronger. Maybe she hadn’t learned self-confidence yet, but she was getting there, too. She was coping. She was making a life. She was being the best mom she knew how to be.
She just had to refrain from jumping down any well pits.
Okay, Mike kept telling himself. So he’d run into her checking out preschools. That wasn’t so odd. Certainly not prophetic. They both had four-year olds. They’d both just moved. They both had a lot of parenting things to do.
Besides…preschools weren’t sexy. Parenting wasn’t sexy, either.
It was in his head. That she belonged with him. That he belonged with her.
He had to get it out of his head. He was too damned old-and smart-to let his hormones do his thinking.
Stopped at a red light, he glanced again at the address. In another minute, he’d be at Dr. June Weavers, who was one of the five pediatricians he’d researched. He could still take Teddy into Chicago-it’s not as if they lived hundreds of miles away from his original pediatrician. But it made no sense, to trek a sick kid on freeways and through rush hours. Finding a closer doctor was the more logical option.
It finally stopped raining after lunch, but the sky was still drizzling. The trees looked waxed-wet and shiny, but humidity hung in the air like a blanket. He parked, noting the expensive landscaping at the doctors’ complex, took the stairs up two at a time.
And paused.
Amanda had just pushed through the door and was bolting down the steps. She’d have barreled straight into him if he hadn’t put out a hand.
The simple touch made her head shoot up. She sucked in a breath before she found a wry smile. “Pretty unbelievable, huh? Two places in a row?”
And then, “Don’t waste your time. This one’s a no vote.”
“Really?”
She listed her concerns. “Four crying kids in the waiting room. The receptionist was frazzled and out of patience. Dust in the corners. Just…no.”
“The doctor had hefty credentials.”
“I thought so, too. And maybe she’s brilliant. But it’s just not a well-run place.”
“You have more on your pediatrician list?”
She nodded. “Oh, yeah. Dr. Alan Rivers is the next on mine-”
“He was at the top of my choices, but I was doing a circle, hitting the geographically closest ones first.”
“Well…”
“Well…”
Since they both had cars, it seemed a foolish idea to leave one, but they both liked the idea of checking out “Dr. Alan” together. Two sets of eyes were always better than one. The office was just five blocks from the first doctor-but a major difference in worlds.
Mike stalled in the waiting room. The setting was a kid’s dream. A big-screen TV carried a whole selection of programs, from reading shows to movies like Free Willy. An aquarium took almost a whole width of wall, with all sorts of colorful fish darting around, the setup no higher than his knees. There was a lot for a kid to do besides wait and worry, he thought.
Amanda tracked down Dr. Alan for both of them. The doctor emerged from the exam rooms as soon as he was free. The guy was almost as little as his patients, big glasses, floppy hair, a bright blue stethoscope. Amanda remarked on the bins near the doorway-a child could pick out a pair of slippers, if he or she wanted to wear them in the office. And another bin held small, washable stuffed animals. A sign read Pick a Friend to Take in the Room with You.