When he saw them, his breath caught in his throat and he felt a wave of intense longing come over him.
On freshly mowed grass, Robin had stretched a quilt, and she and Cole were lying on their backs on it, side by side, staring up at the stars, pointing to various things in the sky. Jake watched them, blinking back the sting in his eyes, wondering how she had known to bring Cole something so simple and so comforting, how she had lured a boy on the verge of manhood to a child’s pleasure. After several minutes, he pushed open the screen door and walked outside, down the steps of the back porch, and across the lawn.
“I see it!” Robin exclaimed, pointing to the east. “See it? It looks like a hat or something, see it?”
“That doesn’t look like a hat!” Cole scoffed.
“Then what?”
Cole considered it for a moment. “Uncle Jake’s nose.”
He and Robin laughed together. Jake said nothing as he reached the quilt, just lay down next to Robin. She gave him a gentle pinch in the side. “Your turn, Cole.”
And Cole, either over his anger or oblivious to Jake, began to call out what shapes he saw. “I see a train . . . a basketball hoop . . .”
Jake slipped his hand into Robin’s. She laughed at Cole claiming to see a Coke bottle, then said, “Okay, Jake. Your turn.”
He looked up, saw a canopy of stars. “I see a moon,” he started.
“No fair!” exclaimed Cole.
“Wait . . . it’s coming to me. A Harley,” he added, to which Cole laughed. “And a heart . . .”
The three of them lay there until the dew began to form beneath stars Robin said were there to show them how high they could dream.
It was over dinner several days later that Jake learned the root of Cole’s distress was the girl, Tara, the object of his obsession. She had, once again, decided she liked another boy and it had devastated Cole. It was that slimy little Frankie who had given him the news, then had talked him into going down to the levee to smoke a joint. God, but Jake hated that kid.
“You have a way with him that I can’t match,” Jake told Robin. “He’s lucky to know you.”
She blushed prettily, absently twirled her spaghetti around a fork. “It’s funny. I hardly know him, really, but I think I’d do just about anything to help him. He’s such a good kid. A little lost, but a good kid inside. And sensitive.” She glanced up at Jake. “Like you.”
Now it was Jake’s turn to blush. “He’s not sensitive. He’s senseless.”
“You know what would be good for him? My family’s ranch. He’d really like it—there are horses and cows and dogs. It would get him out of Houston for a long weekend, anyway. And it would give you a chance to bond with him a little. We could go this weekend.”
“Yeah?” Jake said, mulling the idea over. He’d never been to a ranch, but he sort of thought it might do him a bit of good, too. “You know, that sounds like fun.”
“Then you’ll bring Cole and come with me?” she asked.
Jake nodded. “Yes. Yes, that sounds like a great idea.”
“There’s only one little catch,” she said, dropping her eyes to her plate again.
“What’s that?”
“My dad is going to be there.”
Okay, maybe not such a great idea after all.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Aaron’s insides felt gummy, like everything had melted together. Still battling the effects of the latest round of chemo, he tried to make himself comfortable in the oversized wicker armchair on the veranda as he waited for Robin to arrive. But he wasn’t having much luck—even the iced tea he was drinking made him queasy.
He really needed to lie down, but Aaron was anxious to see Robin, especially after talking to Evan. Of all his daughters, Robin was usually the first one to heed his advice and take it to heart. Evan said Robin was really coming along, pouring herself into her work and learning everything she could about the company she was about to acquire. Working from home was good for her—she wasn’t traveling as much, and what traveling she did do was focused entirely on this acquisition.
Evan said she was growing as a person. Evan said she was doing great. Evan said the one thing that seemed a little off was her infatuation with the handyman.
When her Mercedes turned onto the drive, Aaron’s heart did a little flutter of anticipation, and he hauled himself to his feet, adjusted the baseball cap that hid a frightening loss of hair. As the car drew nearer, he could see a man was driving, and he smiled to himself. Evan had made the trip after all. Good. That would give him the chance to review a few things with him.
But as the Mercedes coasted to a stop on the circular drive, Aaron’s eyes narrowed. That wasn’t Evan. That wasn’t even close to Evan.
Robin bounded out of the car, came running up the steps to throw her arms around him, causing him to grimace with pain.