A Mother's Wish (17 page)

“No … but I’m not all that excited about going to Kelly’s. I’m there every day, you know.”

“Sweetie, I’m sorry. I promise I won’t be late.”

“You’re sure I can’t go over to Cole’s?”

“Jeffrey Leonard Masterson, don’t you
dare
bother Cole. Do you understand me?”

He blinked. She rarely used that tone with him, but she didn’t have the time or energy to argue about this.

“I guess,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “But could you make it home by ten?”

“Why ten?”

“Because I don’t want to do anything stupid like fall asleep in front of Kelly,” he whispered heatedly.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Robin said.

Glancing at her clock radio, she gasped at the time. She was running late. From the moment she’d made the arrangements to meet Frank, she hadn’t given the reality of this evening much thought. Just forcing herself to go through with it had depleted her of energy.

Robin had always hated situations like this. Always. She was going to a strange restaurant, meeting a strange man, and for what? She didn’t know.

Tucking her feet into her pumps, Robin hurried to the bathroom to spray on a little perfume. Not much, just enough to give herself some confidence. She rushed down the stairs and reached for her purse.

Her hand was on the doorknob when the phone rang. For a moment, Robin intended to ignore it. It was probably for Jeff. But what if the call was from her parents? Or Frank—calling to cancel? Ridiculous though it was, each ring sounded more urgent than the last. She’d have to answer or she’d spend all evening wondering who it was. Muttering under her breath, she dashed into the kitchen.

“Hello,” she said impatiently.

At first there was no response. “Robin, it’s Cole.” He
sounded nothing like himself. “I lied.” With that the line was abruptly disconnected.

Robin held the receiver away from her ear and stared at it for several seconds. He’d lied? About what? Good heavens, why had he even phoned? To tell her he’d lied.

There wasn’t time to phone him back and ask what he’d meant.

“Would you care for something to drink?” Frank Eberle asked, glancing over the wine list.

“Nothing, thanks,” Robin said. Frank had turned out to be a congenial sort, which was a pleasant surprise. He was quite attractive, with light blue eyes and a thick head of distinguished-looking salt-and-pepper hair. Angela had once mentioned he was “a little bit” shy, which had panicked Robin since she was a whole lot shy, at least around men. The way she’d figured it, they’d stare at each other most of the night, with no idea what to say. However, they did have Angela in common. Whereas with Cole, all she shared was—

Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt. She refused to think about her neighbor or his last-minute phone call. She balked at the idea of dining with one man while wistfully longing for another—which was exactly what she was doing.

Robin studied the menu, pretending to decide between the prime-rib special and the fresh halibut. But the entire
time she stared at the menu, she was racking her brain for a topic of conversation.

Frank saved her the trouble. “For once,” he said, “Angela didn’t exaggerate. You’re a delightful surprise.”

“I am?” It was amusing to hear him echo her own reaction.

Frank nodded, his smile reserved. “When Angie phoned earlier in the week, I wasn’t sure what to expect. She keeps wanting me to date her friends. And to hear her talk, she’s close friends with dozens of gorgeous women all interested in meeting me.”

Robin grinned. “She should run a dating service. I can’t tell you the number of times she’s matched me up with someone, or tried to, anyway.”

“But you’re a comfortable person to be around. I could sense that right away.”

“Thank you. I … wasn’t sure what to expect, either. Angela’s raved about you for weeks, wanting to get the two of us together.” Robin glanced from the menu to her companion, then back again. She felt the same misgivings every time she agreed to one of these arranged dates.

“I’ve been divorced six months now,” Frank volunteered, “but after fourteen years of married life, I don’t think I’ll ever get accustomed to dating again.”

Robin found herself agreeing. “I know what you mean. It all seems so awkward, doesn’t it? When Lenny and I were dating, I was in high school, and there was so little
to worry about. We knew what we wanted and knew what we had to do to get there.”

Frank sent her a smile. “Now that we’re older and—” he paused “—I hesitate to use the word
wiser
….”

“More sophisticated?”

“Right, more sophisticated,” Frank repeated. His hand closed around the water glass. “Life seems so complicated now. I’ve been out of the swing of things for so long ….”

The waitress came for their order then, and from that point on the evening went smoothly. The feeling of kinship she felt with Frank astonished Robin. He was obviously at ease with her, too. Before she knew it, Robin found herself telling him about Cole.

“He sounds like the kind of guy most women would leap off a bridge to meet.”

Robin nodded. “He’s wonderful to Jeff, too.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“His wife and son.”

Frank’s mouth sagged open. “He’s married?”

“Was,” she rushed to explain. “From what I understand, his wife left him and sometime later his son died.”

“That’s tough,” Frank said, picking up his coffee. “But that was years ago, wasn’t it?”

“I … don’t know. Cole’s never told me these things himself. In fact, he’s never mentioned either his wife or his son.”

“He’s
never
mentioned them?”

“Never,” she confirmed. “I heard it from a neighbor.”

“That’s what’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

The question was sobering. Subconsciously, from the moment Robin had learned of Cole’s loss, she’d been waiting for him to tell her. Waiting for him to trust her enough.

Frank and Robin lingered over coffee, chatting about politics and the economy and a number of other stimulating topics. But the question about Cole refused to fade from her mind.

They parted outside the restaurant and Frank kissed her cheek, but they were both well aware they wouldn’t be seeing each other again. Their time together had been a brief respite. It had helped Frank deal with his loneliness and helped Robin understand what was troubling her about Cole.

The first thing Robin noticed when she pulled into her driveway was that Cole’s house was dark. Dark and silent. Lonely. So much of her life had been like that—before she’d met him.

She needed to talk to him. She wanted to ask about his phone call. She wanted to ask about his wife and the son he’d lost. But the timing was all wrong.

For a long moment Robin sat alone in her car, feeling both sad and disappointed.

Heather greeted her with a smile and a finger pressed
to her lips. “Both kids were exhausted. They fell asleep in the living room almost as soon as we got back.”

After Jeff’s busy day, she could hardly believe he’d lasted through the movie. “I hope he wasn’t cranky.”

“Not in the least,” Heather assured her.

Robin yawned, completely exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to escape to her room and sleep until noon the following day.

“Would you like a cup of coffee before you go?” Heather asked.

“No, thanks.” Robin had been blessed with good neighbors. Heather on her right and Cole on her left ….

Together Robin and Heather woke Jeff, who grumbled about his mother being late. He was too drowsy to realize it was only nine-thirty or that she’d returned ahead of schedule.

After telling Heather a little about her evening, Robin guided her son across the yard and into the house. She walked upstairs with him and answered the slurred questions he struggled to ask between wide, mouth-stretching yawns.

Tugging back his quilt, Robin urged him into his bed. Jeff kicked off his shoes and reached for the quilt. It wasn’t the first time he’d slept in his clothes and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

Smiling to herself, Robin moved quietly down the stairs.

On impulse, she paused in the kitchen and picked up the phone. When Cole answered on the first ring, she swallowed a gasp of surprise.

“Hello,” he said a second time.

“What did you lie about?” she asked softly.

“Where are you?”

“Home.”

“I’ll be right there.” Without a further word, he hung up.

A minute later, Cole was standing at her front door, hands in his back pockets. He stared at her as if it had been months since they’d seen each other.

“You win,” he said, edging his way in.

“Win what? The door prize?” she asked, controlling her amusement with difficulty.

Not bothering to answer her, Cole stalked to the kitchen, where he sank down in one of the pine chairs. “Did you have a good time?”

She sat down across from him. “I really did. Frank’s a very pleasant, very caring man. We met at the Higher Ground—that’s a cute little restaurant close to the BART station and—”

“I know where it is.”

“About your phone call earlier. You said—”

“What’s he like?”

“Who? Frank?”

Cole gave her a look that suggested she have her intelligence tested.

“Like I said, he’s very pleasant. Divorced and lonely.”

“What’s he do for a living?”

“He works for the city, I think. We didn’t get around to talking about our careers.” No doubt Cole would be shocked if he knew she’d spent the greater part of the evening discussing her relationship with
him!

“What did you talk about, then?”

“Cole, honestly, I don’t think we should discuss my evening with Frank. Would you like some coffee? I’ll make decaf.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

Robin ignored the question. Instead she left the table and began to make coffee. She was concentrating so carefully on her task that she didn’t notice Cole was directly behind her. She turned—and found herself gazing into the darkest, most confused and frustrated pair of eyes she’d ever seen.

“Oh,” she said, startled. “I didn’t realize you were so close.”

His hands gripped her shoulders. “Why did you go out with him?”

Surely that wasn’t distress she heard in Cole’s voice? Not after all that casual indifference this afternoon. She frowned, bewildered by the pain she saw in his eyes.
And she finally understood. Contrary to everything he’d claimed, Cole was jealous. Really and truly jealous.

“Did he kiss you?” he asked with an urgency, an intensity, she’d never heard in his voice before.

Robin stared, frozen by the stark need she read in him.

Cole’s finger rested on her mouth. “Did Frank kiss you?” he repeated.

She shook her head and the motion brushed his finger across her bottom lip.

“He wanted to, though, didn’t he?” Cole asked with a brooding frown.

“He didn’t kiss me.” She was finally able to say the words. She couldn’t kiss Frank or anyone else. The only man she wanted to kiss and be kissed by was the man looking down at her now. The man whose lips were descending on hers ….

“S
o, did you like this guy you had dinner with last night?” Jeff asked, keeping his eyes on his bowl of cold cereal.

“He was nice,” Robin answered, pouring herself a cup of coffee and joining him at the table. They’d slept late and were spending a lazy Sunday morning enjoying their breakfast before going to the eleven o’clock service at church.

Jeff hesitated, his spoon poised in front of him. “Is he nicer than Cole?”

“Cole’s … nicer,” Robin admitted reluctantly.
Nice
and
nicer
weren’t terms she would’ve used to describe the differences between Frank and Cole, but in her son’s ten-year-old mind they made perfect sense.

A smile quivered at the edges of Jeff’s mouth. “I saw you two smooching last night,” he said, grinning broadly.

“When?” Robin demanded—a ridiculous question. It could only have happened when Cole had come over to talk to her. He’d confessed how jealous he’d been of Frank and how he’d struggled with the emotion and felt like a fool. Robin had been convinced she was the one who’d behaved like an idiot. Before either of them could prevent it, they were in each other’s arms, seeking and granting reassurance.

“You thought I was asleep, but I heard Cole talking and I wanted to ask him what he was gonna do about you and this other guy, so I came downstairs and saw you two with your faces stuck together.”

The boy certainly had a way with words.

“You didn’t look like you minded, either. Cole and me talked about girls once, and he said they aren’t much when they’re ten, but they get a whole lot more interesting later on. He said girls are like green apples. At first they’re all sour and make your lips pucker, but a little while later they’re real good.”

“I see,” Robin muttered, not at all sure she liked being compared to an apple.

“But when I got downstairs I didn’t say anything,” Jeff said, “because, well, you know.”

Robin nodded and sipped her coffee in an effort to hide her discomfort.

Jeff picked up his cereal bowl and drank the remainder of the milk in loud gulps. He wiped the back of his hand across his lips. “I suppose this means you’re going to have a baby now.”

Robin was too horrified to speak. The swallow of coffee got stuck in her throat and she started choking. Trying to help her breathe, Jeff pounded her back with his fist, which only added to her misery.

By the time she caught her breath, tears were streaking down her face.

“You all right, Mom?” Jeff asked, his eyes wide with concern. He rushed into the bathroom and returned with a wad of tissue.

“Thanks,” she whispered, wiping her face. It took her a moment or two to regain her composure. This was a talk she’d planned on having with him soon—but not quite yet. “Jeff, listen … kissing doesn’t make babies.”

“It doesn’t? But I thought … I hoped … You mean you won’t be having a baby?”

“I … Not from kissing,” she whispered, taking in deep breaths to stabilize her pulse.

“I suppose the next thing you’re gonna tell me is we’ll have to save up for a baby the way we did for the house and now the fence before we get me a dog.”

This conversation was getting too complicated. “No, we wouldn’t have to save for a baby.”

“Then what’s the holdup?” her son demanded. “I like
the idea of being a big brother. I didn’t think much about it until we moved here. Then when we were having dinner at the Chinese restaurant I heard this grandma and grandpa in the booth next to us talking, and they were saying neat things about us being a family. That’s when I started thinking about babies and stuff.”

“Jeff,” Robin said, rubbing her hands together as she collected her thoughts. “There’s more to it than that. Before there’s a baby, there should be a husband.”

“Well, of course,” Jeff returned, looking at her as if she’d insulted his intelligence. “You’d have to marry Cole first, but that’d be all right with me. You like him, don’t you? You must like him or you wouldn’t be kissing him that way.”

Robin sighed. Of course she
liked
Cole, but it wasn’t that simple. Unfortunately she wasn’t sure she could explain it in terms a ten-year-old could understand. “I—”

“I can’t remember ever seeing you kiss a guy like that. You looked real serious. And when I was sneaking back up the stairs, I heard him ask you to have dinner alone with him tonight and that seemed like a real good sign.”

The next time Cole kissed her, Robin thought wryly, they’d have to scurry into a closet. The things that child came up with …

“You
are
going to dinner with him, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then what’s the problem? I’ll ask him to marry you if you want.”

“Jeff!” she cried, leaping to her feet. “Absolutely not! That’s between Cole and me, and neither of us would appreciate any assistance from you. Is that clearly understood?”

“All right,” he sighed, but he didn’t look too pleased. He reached for a piece of toast, shredding it into thirds. “But you’re going to marry him, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why not? Cole’s the best thing that’s ever happened to us.”

Her son was staring at her intently, his baseball cap twisted around to the back of his head. Now that she had his full attention, Robin couldn’t find the words to explain. “It’s more complicated than you realize, sweetie.” She made a show of glancing at the clock. “Anyway, it’s time to change and get ready for church.”

Jeff nodded and rushed up the stairs. Robin followed at a much slower pace, grateful to put an end to this difficult and embarrassing subject.

The minute they were home from the service, Jeff grabbed his baseball mitt. “Jimmy Wallach and I are going to the school yard to practice hitting balls. Okay?”

“Okay,” Robin said absently. “How long will you be gone?”

“An hour.”

“I’m going grocery shopping, so if I’m not home when you get back you know what to do?”

“Of course,” he muttered.

“You’re Robin Masterson, aren’t you?” a tall middle-aged woman asked as she maneuvered her grocery cart alongside Robin’s.

“Yes,” Robin said. The other woman’s eyes were warm and her smile friendly.

“I thought you must be—I’ve seen you from a distance. I’m Joyce Wallach. Jimmy and Jeff have become good friends. In fact, they’re at the school yard now.”

“Of course,” Robin said, pleased to make the other woman’s acquaintance. They’d talked on the phone several times, and she’d met Joyce’s husband once, when Jimmy had spent the night. The boys had wanted to play on the same baseball team and were disappointed when they’d been assigned to different teams. It had been Jimmy who’d told Jeff about the death of Cole’s son.

“I’ve been meaning to invite you to the house for coffee,” Joyce went on to say, “but I started working parttime and I can’t seem to get myself organized.”

“I know what you mean.” Working full-time, keeping up with Jeff and her home was about all Robin could manage herself. She didn’t know how other mothers were able to accomplish so much.

“There’s a place to sit down here,” Joyce said, and her
eyes brightened at the idea. “Do you have time to chat now?”

Robin nodded. “Sure. I’ve been wanting to meet you, too.” The Wallachs lived two streets over, and Robin fully approved of Jimmy as a friend for Jeff. He and Kelly had become friends, too, but her ten-year-old son wasn’t as eager to admit being buddies with a girl. Kelly was still a green apple in Jeff’s eye, but the time would come when he’d appreciate having her next door.

“I understand Jeff’s quite the baseball player,” Joyce said at the self-service counter.

Robin smiled. She poured herself a plastic cup of iced tea and paid for it. “Jeff really loves baseball. He was disappointed he couldn’t play with Jimmy.”

“They separate the teams according to the kid’s year of birth. Jimmy’s birthday is in January so he’s with another group.” She frowned. “That doesn’t really make much sense, does it?” She chuckled, and Robin couldn’t help responding to the soft infectious sound of Joyce’s laughter. She found herself laughing, too.

They pulled out chairs at one of the small tables in the supermarket’s deli section.

“I feel like throwing my arms around you,” Joyce said with a grin. “I saw Cole Camden at Balboa Park the other day and I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was like seeing him ten years ago, the way he used to be.” She glanced at Robin. “Jeff was with him.”

“Cole came to his first game.”

“Ah.” She nodded slowly, as if that explained it. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you, but there’s been a marked difference in Cole lately. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see it. Cole’s gone through so much heartache.”

“Cole’s been wonderful for Jeff,” Robin said, then swallowed hard. She felt a renewed stab of fear that Cole was more interested in the idea of having a son than he was in a relationship with her.

“I have the feeling you’ve
both
been wonderful for him,” Joyce added.

Robin’s smile was losing its conviction. She lowered her eyes and studied the lemon slice floating in her tea.

“My husband and I knew Cole quite well before the divorce,” Joyce went on to say. “Larry, that’s my husband, and Cole played golf every Saturday afternoon. Then Jennifer decided she wanted out of the marriage, left him and took Bobby. Cole really tried to save that marriage, but the relationship had been in trouble for a long time. Cole doted on his son, though—he would’ve done anything to spare Bobby the trauma of a divorce. Jennifer, however—” Joyce halted abruptly, apparently realizing how much she’d said. “I didn’t mean to launch into all of this—it’s ancient history. I just wanted you to know how pleased I am to meet you.”

Since Cole had told her shockingly little of his past, Robin had to bite her tongue not to plead with Joyce to
continue. Instead, she bowed her head and said, “I’m pleased to meet you, too.”

Then she looked up with a smile as Joyce said, “Jimmy’s finally got the friend he’s always wanted. There are so few boys his age around here. I swear my son was ready to set off fireworks the day Jeff registered at the school and he learned you lived only two blocks away.”

“Jeff claimed he couldn’t live in a house that’s surrounded by girls.” Robin shook her head with a mock grimace. “If he hadn’t met Jimmy, I might’ve had a mutiny on my hands.”

Joyce’s face relaxed into another warm smile. She was energetic and animated, gesturing freely with her hands as she spoke. Robin felt as if she’d known and liked Jimmy’s mother for years.

“There hasn’t been much turnover in this neighborhood. We’re a close-knit group, as I’m sure you’ve discovered. Heather Lawrence is a real sweetie. I wish I had more time to get to know her. And Cole, well … I realize that huge house has been in his family forever, but I half expected him to move out after Jennifer and Bobby were killed.”

The silence that followed was punctuated by Robin’s soft, involuntary gasp. “What did you just say?”

“That I couldn’t understand why Cole’s still living in the house on Orchard Street. Is that what you mean?”

“No, after that—about Jennifer and Bobby.” It was difficult
for Robin to speak. Each word felt as if it had been scraped from the roof of her mouth.

“I assumed you knew they’d both been killed,” Joyce said, her eyes full of concern. “I mean, I thought for sure that Cole had told you.”

“I knew about Bobby. Jimmy said something to Jeff, who told me, but I didn’t have any idea that Jennifer had died, too. Heather Lawrence told me about the divorce, but she didn’t say anything about Cole’s wife dying ….”

“I don’t think Heather knows. She moved into the neighborhood long after the divorce, and Cole’s pretty close-mouthed about it.”

“When did all this happen?”

“Five or six years ago now. It was terribly tragic,” Joyce said. “Just thinking about it makes my heart ache all over again. I don’t mean to be telling tales, but if there’s any blame to be placed I’m afraid it would fall on Jennifer. She wasn’t the kind of woman who’s easy to know or like. I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, and I don’t mean to be catty, but Jen did Cole a favor when she left him. Naturally, he didn’t see it that way—he was in love with his wife and crazy about his son. Frankly, I think Cole turned a blind eye to his wife’s faults because of Bobby.”

“What happened?” Perhaps having a neighbor fill in the details of Cole’s life was the wrong thing to do; Robin no longer knew. Cole had never said a word to her about Jennifer or Bobby, and she didn’t know if he ever would.

“Jen was never satisfied with Cole’s position as a city attorney,” Joyce explained. “We’d have coffee together every now and then, and all she’d do was complain how Cole was wasting his talents and that he could be making big money and wasn’t. She had grander plans for him. But Cole loved his job and felt an obligation to follow through with his commitments. Jennifer never understood that. She didn’t even try to sympathize with Cole’s point of view. She constantly wanted more, better, newer things. She didn’t work herself, so it was all up to Cole.” Joyce shrugged sadly.

“Jen was never happy, never satisfied,” she went on. “She hated the house and the neighborhood, but figured out that all the whining and manipulating in the world wasn’t going to do one bit of good. Cole intended to finish out his responsibilities to the city, so she played her ace. She left him, taking Bobby with her.”

“But didn’t Cole try to gain custody of Bobby?”

“Of course. He knew, and so did everyone else, that Jennifer was using their son as a pawn. She was never the motherly type, if you know what I mean. If you want the truth, she was an alcoholic. There were several times I dropped Bobby off at the house and suspected Jen had been drinking heavily. I was willing to testify on Cole’s behalf, and I told him so. He was grateful, but then the accident happened and it was too late.”

“The accident?” A heaviness settled in her chest. Each
breath pained her and brought with it the memories she longed to forget, memories of another accident—the one that had taken her husband.

“It was Jennifer’s fault—the accident, I mean. She’d been drinking and should never have been behind the wheel. The day before, Cole had been to see his attorneys, pleading with them to move quickly because he was afraid Jennifer was becoming more and more irresponsible. But it wasn’t until after she’d moved out that Cole realized how sick she’d become, how dependent she was on alcohol to make it through the day.”