Andrea’s face was a flurry of happy excitement. “Really? Oh awesome! I love his car so much.”
“Well, I’m sure he’s got more than one,” Megan observed drily. Jake’s partnership with his brother had created the industry-leading Goliath range of disk drives, among other runaway successes, and the two men had become fabulously rich before their mid-twenties.
“You’re jealous because you drive a Fiesta,” Andrea told her.
“I love my Fiesta!” her teacher responded, hurt by the remark. “It gets me from A to B, so don’t you disrespect it.”
“I’m just saying,” Andrea said, sounding many years beyond her age, as she often did. The young lady hopped down from the piano bench and wandered into the kitchen for her traditional post-lesson snack while Megan enjoyed another chuckle at the girl’s precautious dynamism. Never a dull moment.
“So,” Megan began as she sliced up a ruby-red apple for Andrea, “have you seen Uncle Jake much, lately?”
Andrea slurped her orange juice. “Sometimes. He visits on Sunday to watch football with Dad. They always drink beers and throw the cans in the trashcan from across the room.”
“Yeah,” Megan said, “that sounds like boys.”
Then, out of nowhere, “Uncle Jake brought me a panda.”
Megan stared at her. It was these cryptic, inexplicable utterances which added such spice to the life of anyone who spent time with The Great Andrea McMahon. “Really.” It wasn’t a question. “A panda.”
“Oh, Megan are you getting so old you’re losing your memory? Can’t remember what a panda is?”
Megan slid the plate of apple slices in front of Andrea and flicked her ear. “I’m younger than your Dad, by the way. And I know what a panda is, Missy. This was a cuddly toy, right?”
“Not a toy!” Andrea insisted. “A panda!”
“A real one?” Megan asked, hands on hips.
“Yeah!”
“No way.”
“Way!” Andrea exclaimed.
“Not true.”
“Is so!”
“I call shenanigans,” Megan announced, resolutely.
Andrea cocked her head. “What’s a shenniguns?”
Megan’s bout of giggling was interrupted only by the front door bell. “Better late than never,” she commented to Andrea. “You ready to go?” Andrea stuffed music books into her bag as Megan answered the door.
She was not – even in the slightest – prepared for what she saw.
***
“Megan Petersen,” Jake remarked with a broad smile. “How long has it been?”
Jesus, Mary, Joseph and all the Saints. Where along the way did Jake McMahon get gorgeous?
Megan froze in her doorway for an embarrassingly long second before erasing the stunned look from her face and giving her visitor a warm smile. “Jake, it’s so good to see you. You’re looking...” Chiseled and mouth-watering? Immaculate and neatly groomed? “Looking well,” Megan managed lamely. “And to answer your question,” she said, beckoning him inside, “it’s been seven years.”
“You’re kidding,” Jake marveled, regarding Megan closely. “It can’t be. You don’t look a day older than when we graduated high school.”
“Get outta here,” Megan countered. “If a coupla nursing degrees haven’t put years on me, I don’t know what would.” They arrived together in the kitchen. “Andrea? You ready to go?”
Jake brought a gentle hand to her shoulder. “Actually, I was kinda hoping we might catch up for a few minutes. Unless,” he added, “you have things to do?”
Megan quickly took in the sight of him, and found it extremely pleasing. He had kept his wavy, blonde hairstyle but it was neater and much better kept. A nice, white, button-down shirt covered what were very obviously fabulous pectorals, as though he’d deliberately pursued anatomical perfection. Dark blue jeans and apparently brand-new Doc Martens completed the outfit. Mostly, though, she noticed the fresh, spicily masculine scent of him.
“No, I’m all yours,” Megan replied without thinking. Jake arched an eyebrow. “I mean,” she said, suddenly flustered, “I don’t have much going on this afternoon.” She turned to call into the small TV room just off the kitchen. “Andrea, do you mind hanging out there for a few more minutes while I catch up with your Uncle Jake?”
“Cool!” Andrea replied.
“Isn’t she something?” Jake asked, rhetorically. “I’d call her the apple of Tom’s eye, but that wouldn’t begin to describe it. Especially since Mary... Well, they’ve been so strong for each other.”