8

Angie put the last students in the van at the end of the carpool line. Adam’s car was parked in one of the visitor’s spaces. She held up a “just-one-minute” finger and headed back into the building to grab her bags.

Adam had done a great job hanging the rest of the pictures. They gave her office a warm, homey feel. A peaceful place where she’d be happy to have any teacher or parent visit when the time was right.

Megan stepped into the doorway and leaned against the doorjamb. “Is that Adam’s car I see out there?”

Angie dropped the volume she was currently reading into her book bag. “We’re doing a few laps at the pool and then we’re going shopping for some secondhand clothing for Clinton’s Closet.”

Megan smirked. “I see.” She winked.

“No, I don’t think you do.” Angie picked up her bag of swimming stuff.

“What do you mean?” Megan’s smirk grew into a grin.

“I’ve got a serious boyfriend.” True. Will had been, but who knew for how much longer?

“So you say.” Megan laughed and stepped back into the hall. “Have fun.”

Angie locked her office door and headed out to the parking lot. As she neared Adam’s car, the trunk lid raised. She dropped her school bag in, pushed the lid shut, and climbed into the passenger seat.

“Still up for a short swim?” Adam grinned in her direction.

“Sounds great.” She pushed her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes.

“Long day?” Adam backed out of the space and then pulled onto the road.

“Long night. Will stopped by on his way home from Austin.”

“’Nuff said.” A flush crept up his neck.

“No. It’s not like that. We don’t…we’re not...” Embarrassment burned her face. She owed him no explanation, but a sense of guilt compelled her to explain. “We talked until after midnight.”

“None of my business.” The hum of the engine filled the conversational void between them.

She angled toward him. “How was your day?”

“Uneventful…and in the real estate business, that’s good.” His smile formed little crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

“It’s also good in the teaching business.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough. So, the pictures look OK?”

“Perfect.”

“You sure? ’Cause I can move ’em.”

“They’re just right. Thanks for your help.” She pushed her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Maybe a swim was what she needed to wake up.

~*~

Angie made her way to the area roped off for swimming laps. Adam was already in the pool. At water aerobics the other day, he’d worn a baggy pair of board shorts and a t-shirt. Today he wore one of those leotards competitive swimmers often used. He had a sleek build, perfect for swimming. Long arms. Long legs. Broad shoulders. Little noticeable body fat. Will was more muscled, shorter and stockier. Poppy would have said he was built like a fireplug. She dived in and glided under water, surfacing when she neared him.

She grabbed on to the side of the pool. “So what’s the drill, coach?”

Adam grinned. “I usually swim for about thirty minutes.” They glided to the end of the pool, and he reset his watch.

“Ah, counting laps, I see.”

“Yeah. I try to get in forty to fifty. But I’ve been doing this a while. Just set your own pace.”

“Will do.”

Her first two laps were a warm-up. She didn’t even try to stay with him. The heated water bathed her arms and legs in soothing warmth. She’d missed this. The last time she could remember swimming was the summer after she’d graduated from high school. She flipped over and worked on her backstroke. She did a lap of breaststroke and then concentrated on freestyle. People say muscles have memories, and it seemed hers hadn’t forgotten. Her arms and legs moved without her having to concentrate on the strokes. She simply swam and enjoyed it.

She glanced up at the clock. They’d been swimming for almost thirty minutes. When she reached the near end of the pool, she climbed out. No one would time her, but she’d see what she could do. She dove in and swam butterfly to the other end of the pool. Then she flipped over and backstroked to the start. She turned over again and breast-stroked to the far end, flipped and free-styled home. She leaned her head back into the water and then surfaced.

Adam sat on the side of the pool. “What in the world was that?”

She boosted herself out of the water and sat beside him. “IM, um, Individual Medley.”

He grinned. “I know it was IM. Pretty amazing.”

She shrugged. “I swam competitively in high school. IM was my specialty.”

“Impressive.” He stood.

She clasped his offered hand and stood to face him. “Not really. It was a small school, and I wasn’t that good. But it was fun.”

He shook his head. “Looked pretty good to me.”

For some reason heat covered her cheeks.

“Meet you out front after we change.”

~*~

Adam stood outside the main entrance to the pool complex. So Will had stopped by last night on his way home from Austin. He really hadn’t wanted to hear her explanation, but the tone of her answer had been firm. And he’d been honest. Their relationship wasn’t any of his business…yet.

She dug her elbow into his ribs. “Anybody home?”

He turned toward her. “Didn’t hear you come out.”

“Obviously.” She grinned.

He held out his hand for her bag, and she handed it to him. “I’ll throw it in the trunk.”

“Thanks.” She matched her paces to his. “So how far is this shop?”

“Not far. About ten minutes.” He popped the trunk, tossed in their bags, and slammed it shut. Then he opened her door for her.

She raised her eyebrows and scooted in. “Thank you.”

He climbed into the driver’s seat, shut the door, and started the car. The phone rang through the car. The display read “Mom.” “Better get this.” He pushed the answer button. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hello, dear. Have you finished swimming?”

“Yep. Angie and I are just leaving and headed to the Second Chance Shop.” He pulled out into the traffic.

“I see… Hello, Angie.”

“Hi, Isabel.”

“Adam, I wanted to remind you of the principals’ meeting tonight. I should be home about ten. I’m leaving you some dinner on the stove. And there’s enough for two. Angie, I hope you’ll come keep Adam company.”

“Sounds nice. Thank you.”

He’d have to give Mom a big hug when she got home. “Hope your meeting goes well. See you later.” He ended the call.

“That was sweet of your mom.”

Adam grinned. “She really likes you.” He glanced her way.

Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I like her, too. I don’t know if she’ll ever understand what she’s done for me.” A tear striped her cheek.

He reached into the console, pulled out a napkin, and handed it to her. If he hadn’t been driving, he would have wiped the tear away.

They rode in silence for the next few minutes. He slowed and pulled into the Second Chance Shop parking lot. “Hey, we can do this another day.”

She blew out a calming breath and shook her head. “Sorry. I’m not sure what came over me. I’m fine.” She turned toward him. A soft smile warmed her face. “So, we’re mostly looking for men’s coats, right?”

“Yeah. Hats and gloves. Anything to help keep them warm. Last year I bought some of those emergency blankets. They’re lightweight. Small enough to be stored in a pocket. Regular blankets would be OK, too. Just more cumbersome.”

The second he cut the engine, she stepped out of the car. No chance to open her door. He eased out and hit the lock button. They each got a shopping cart and wheeled it into the store.

She paused at the front. “Wow. This place is huge.”

“Men’s stuff is in the back left corner.”

“You go on. I’ll meet you in a minute. I want to check out the book section.”

He headed left. She headed right.

The racks were full only because the weather was still warm. In a couple of weeks when the temperatures began to drop, they’d be picked over. Adam found a couple of coats and dropped them in the cart. Then he eased on down the aisle looking for stuff that would work. He grabbed some heavy sweaters. Layers were always a good alternative. He put them in with the coats. His cart bounced, and he looked up. She’d run into him.

“Don’t take everything.” She grinned, now composed.

“I’m not. Only the good stuff.” He winked. “Find anything?”

Her eyes opened wide, and she leaned forward. She picked up a book from the cart and held it out to him. “I collect old children’s books, and look what I found.”

He reached out and took the book. “Charlotte’s Web. Loved that story when I was a kid.”

“Look at the illustrations.” She reached toward him, opened the book, and turned through a few pages of soft watercolor pictures.

“Nice. A great story…no matter what your age.” Whatever had upset her earlier was gone or forgotten.

She grinned. “So let’s see what you’ve left me for the clothing drive.” She turned and headed down another aisle.

~*~

Angie set the alarm code and locked the school doors while Adam went over to his car and opened the passenger door. She’d never noticed it before, but something with his walk was off. Not exactly a limp. Just an unusual rhythm to his gait.

She walked across the lot and slipped into the seat.

After he closed her door, he headed around to the driver’s side and climbed in.

She smiled at him. “Well, the Clinton’s Closet box is now overflowing.”

He grinned back. “I’ll take the stuff to the church Friday. Just wanted to leave it full to encourage the students.” He pulled the car out onto the street. “Still up for dinner at Maison Thornton?”

“It’s getting late, and I imagine you’re tired. We can do it another time.”

“You gotta eat, right? And it’s not late.” He tapped the dashboard.

She read the clock display. Six-thirty. “I guess it’s just getting dark earlier.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He glanced toward her and grinned.

Not having to cook or eat alone sounded wonderful. “Thank you.” She smiled.

They headed toward the street where her little house sat, passed it, and turned into a neighborhood a few blocks down the road. Two-story brick houses, at least two or three times larger than her bungalow, lined the streets. He followed the road until it ended in a cul-de-sac. One of the three garage doors of the largest house raised open, and he pulled up the driveway into an immaculate garage.

Grammy and Poppy couldn’t have put a car in their garage if they’d wanted to. Boxes of junk stacked high had formed a maze that ran between the kitchen door, to the washer and dryer, and then to the door into the backyard. Mostly their only daughter’s stuff that they’d claimed to be saving for Angie, though in truth, they couldn’t part with the items because of the memories they held. But Angie had no connection to things that belonged to a woman she’d never known. And after her grandparents’ deaths, she’d donated the stuff to a local charity.

Adam’s white pickup occupied one of the other spaces. The empty space left was probably for Isabel’s car. “Here we are.” Adam turned off the car and stepped out.

Angie followed suit.

He walked over to the door into the house, rested his hand on the knob, and turned back toward her. He narrowed his eyes. “Not afraid of dogs, are you?”

“I love them.”

“Well, brace yourself for fifty pounds of enthusiasm.” He opened the door and stepped inside.

A reddish colored Golden Retriever did her best to sit while excitement vibrated every inch of her being. Little whimpers of delight filled the space between them.

“Meet Lucy.” He knelt down and ruffled the dog’s ears. “Luce, say hi to Angie.”

Lucy offered a paw. Laughing, Angie took it. “Nice to meet you, girl.” Lucy’s tail swept back and forth across the tile floor. Angie squatted beside Adam and rubbed the dog’s head. “She’s adorable.”

He grinned. “My favorite girl.” He slowly straightened.

Angie ran her hands over Lucy’s velvet head. “I always promised myself I’d get a Golden Retriever after college, but my apartment in Fort Worth didn’t allow pets. Then Will and I started dating, and he’s allergic. I wasn’t about to get a dog and have to get rid of it when we got married.”

“You can borrow Luce any time you need some unconditional love.” He grinned.

She stood and soaked in her surroundings. A spotless white and stainless contemporary kitchen. Unexpected in a home with such a traditional exterior.

Adam gestured toward the opening leading into an adjacent room. “You ladies make yourselves comfortable while I get dinner together.”

Angie stepped through the doorway. The cavernous room on the other side reached upward two stories. Lucy leaned against her leg as Angie absorbed her surroundings. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a deck flanked an Austin stone fireplace. A clean-lined contemporary leather sectional faced the fireplace, forming a conversation area.

One of those black leather and molded rosewood chairs and ottomans sat beside the fireplace and faced back toward the seating area. Coordinating rosewood bookshelves lined the wall behind the sofa. Although the simple lines of the furniture could have given the room a cold, stark feel, the rosewood provided warmth. Isabel’s home decor was completely opposite from that in her school office.

“So, you’re the first person I’ve known who makes themselves at home by remaining standing.” Adam walked past her toward the fireplace, squatted, and ignited the flame. “If you get too warm, let me know, and I’ll turn on the AC.”

The tantalizing scent of garlic, oregano, and onion floated in from the kitchen. A buzzer sounded, and Adam eased upright. “Chicken cacciatore calls.”

~*~

Adam raised his head after the blessing. Facing the fireplace, they sat on the floor, using the coffee table as their dinner table. Lucy lay on her cushion beside the hearth. The uplifting tones of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons filled the conversational void.

The auburn highlights in Angie’s hair glistened in the firelight. He tugged his gaze away and concentrated on dinner.

“Your mom has a beautiful home.”

Her comments recaptured his attention. A soft smile warmed her face.

“Not at all what I would have expected. Very classy.” Her cheeks glowed red even in the firelight. “That didn’t come out like I intended.”

“No problem, but I’m glad you like my mom’s home… Especially since you’re living in it. And I’m glad you think my home is classy.”

She laid down her fork and stared at him.

“I grew up in the little house you’re living in now. Once I finished law school and bought this house, Mom and I decided to use the old one for ministry. I added an apartment out back for Mom, so we live together…but separate. She has her privacy and I have mine. And a bonus…several nights a week she cooks dinner. No way I’m turning that down.” He winked.

“I had no idea.” She scooted the food around on her plate, and then her gaze found his. “So…if I were to accept your mom’s invitation for Thanksgiving dinner, who would I tell? And where would we be eating?”

An interesting development. “What about Bill?”

“Bill? You mean Will.” She pursed her lips.

“Will. I thought you were having Thanksgiving with his family.”

“I was. Until they decided to spend the week in Colorado.”

“Nice. You didn’t want to go?”

“I didn’t want to ask off.” She shrugged.

“Why? Mom wouldn’t have minded.”

“I obligated to sub…” She paused and leaned her head to one side. “Excuse me. Are you cross-examining me?”

“Guilty as charged.” He winked. “Here. We’ll be having Thanksgiving dinner here. And I’ll make sure Mom gets your message.”