The casual remark struck Robin as a bribe, and she was instantly reminded of what Jake had said just this morning. Her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t be trying to get me to come to Dallas because of . . . you know . . . us, would you?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Evan said with a snort. “I made that mistake once, but I rarely make the same mistake twice. I am just trying to consolidate. In case you haven’t noticed, the economy has taken a nosedive.”
Now, she just felt ridiculously full of herself. “Sorry,” she said with a faint smile.
Evan tossed back his drink, pulled out his wallet, and fished out some bills. “Okay, let’s go,” he said abruptly. “I’m gonna run some final figures through our corporate finance and then we’ll decide what we’re going to do. In the meantime, I could use some help in looking at the number of missed pickups down here in Houston. The rate is about twice as high as it is across the country. You should really be on top of that.”
“Sure, okay,” she said, coming to her feet, and had to walk quickly to keep up with him as they left the bistro.
He dropped her at home, made no effort to come in. Robin walked inside, put down her purse. The house was silent—the work crews had left for the day, which she had expected, given the late hour. But she had sort of hoped that Jake would be waiting for her.
He wasn’t.
She had a bath, thinking Jake would call anytime. When he didn’t, she picked up the phone and called his house. No answer. Then she tried his cell. It immediately rolled over into voice mail. “Oh, ah . . . hey,” she said, feeling suddenly awkward. “I, uh, I just got back from Burdette and was just calling to say hi. Well, okay, if you get this, maybe you can call me back?” Wincing, she quickly hung up. Where was he? Class, maybe, although the semester was drawing to a close. His mom’s? Who knew? At the moment, her stomach was growling, and she headed to her almost completed kitchen, rummaged around until she found a can of tuna and some crackers. A veritable feast, Batman.
She ate half of a bland tuna salad, then wandered onto the back terrace and switched on the porch fans. She took a seat on one of the chaise lounges, watched the pink flamingos swaying in the evening breeze.
When the phone started to ring, she almost killed herself trying to get out of that stinking chaise, and burst through the French doors of the dining room, grabbing the phone on the fifth ring.
“Hello?”
“Robbie, its Dad.”
“Hey, Dad!” she said, brightening. “How are you?”
“I’m okay.”
“How is the chemo going?”
He groaned. “The way chemo always goes—I’d rather jump off a cliff.”
“But what are they saying? Are you going to be okay?”
“Robbie—” He paused, sighing. “I don’t know. We’ll see. They want to try this once more along with some drug therapy. Of course your mom is into the spiritual path and is threatening more herbal therapy if this doesn’t work, so do your old man a favor and keep your fingers crossed.”
She’d do more than that. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about you, wondering how you were.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been thinking a lot about you, too. I’m coming out to the ranch next week and I want you to come, too. We’ll be getting into town next Wednesday after my last treatment. I want you there Thursday. Bring Evan if you want.”
Okay, she’d let that one slide. “I’ll be there. I am sure I can work it out.”
“So you think that handyman will let you go?”
The question stunned her. “W-what? What did you say?”
“Don’t play dumb. That handyman you’re fooling around with.”
“I’m not fooling around with anyone—”
“When I said I wanted you to stop and smell the roses, I didn’t intend for you to take up with the first workman that walked through your door.”
Robin’s heart started pounding so hard she thought it might explode in her chest. “Thanks, Dad. Thanks for the clarification. You weren’t explicit enough about who I was to date and when. So, what, does Grandma have a hotline in to your hospital bed?”
“Lil? I haven’t talked to Lil!” He said it so gruffly that he started coughing, wheezing into the phone. “Shit,” he said to himself.
Evan. Evan and his big damn mouth . . . Dad’s cough grew violent, and though she was fuming, Robin could not bear to hear him like that. “Sorry, Dad,” she said quickly. “Look, we’ll talk when you get here, okay? Can we do that?”
“Yeah,” he said, sounding noticeably weaker. “I’m looking forward to seeing you, Robbie-girl.”
He had a very peculiar way of showing it, she thought bitterly.
Dad wheezed again. “I’ll see you soon,” he said hoarsely and hung up as another spasm of coughing hit him.
Robin ran through a few choice words for Evan as she carried the phone with her and wandered back out onto the terrace to resume her seat. A full moon, big as a platter, was just beginning to rise, and she thought of that lovely day she and Jake had gone to see the wildflowers.
The phone shattered her dreamy state of contemplation.
“Hey, baby.” Jake sounded exhausted.
“Jake! How are you?”