A Million Little Things (Mischief Bay, #3)

“God, no. I can’t imagine dealing with that again. But there are elements of teaching I do miss. Maybe I’d like younger kids or older kids more.” She took a bite of her scone. “I’m thinking of substitute teaching.”

“You’re certainly qualified. It would give you the chance to try different ages and figure out if you want to go back. But it can be a pretty thankless task.”

“I’m still considering. What are you going to do?”

Jen sighed. “I have no idea. I worry about Kirk and me. I blame Lucas.”

“Kirk’s partner? Why?”

“He’s got all these young chickies in his life. God knows what he’s telling Kirk.” Jen’s eyes filled with tears. “What if he’s having an affair?”

“Kirk loves you. He’s not the kind of guy to do that.” Zoe was sure Kirk had plenty of flaws—everyone did—but she knew how much he loved his wife and son.

“His work is stressful. He’s out of touch for hours at a time. He could be doing anything.”

“Have you talked about this with him?” Zoe asked.

Jen wiped her eyes. “You mean sat him down and had a rational conversation? Why on earth would I want to do that?”

Zoe smiled. “Being mature is a real bitch, isn’t it?”

“Tell me about it.” Jen sniffed, then reached for a second scone. “Thank you for being my friend.”

“Back at you.”

*

Pam counted down the minutes until her Pilates class finished. She’d been out of sorts for two days now and she knew the reason. The problem was—who could she talk to? She’d finally settled on her friend Shannon. They’d known each other for several years. Shannon had totally been there for her when John had died and, more important, she trusted both Shannon’s advice and discretion.

Nicole released them from the plank position and instead of sagging to the floor, Pam scrambled to her feet. Yes, yes, her muscles were whimpering, but she had more important things to worry about. Like getting some advice. Luck was on her side—Zoe hadn’t come to the class, which meant Pam didn’t have to worry about her overhearing, or wanting to go out for a late lunch. Not that Pam didn’t like spending time with Zoe, but Miguel was her father. Talk about complicated.

Shannon, a successful fortysomething who had married for the first time a year and a half ago, walked over. “You were on a tear today. Feeling our oats, are we?”

Pam shook her head. “I need to talk to you about something. Do you have a few minutes before you have to be at work?”

“Of course. Let me get changed and then you can drive me back to my office. There’s a coffee place in the lobby.”

“Perfect.”

Ten minutes later they were making the short drive to Shannon’s office building. Although Pam hadn’t changed back into street clothes, she had brought a long tunic top to pull over her exercise outfit, so she wasn’t totally out of place.

They placed their orders at the coffee shop, then waited for the lattes to be made. Once they had their drinks, they retreated to a couple of chairs in the lobby. Shannon faced her.

“So what’s up?”

“Nothing bad,” Pam said quickly. “Everyone is fine. It’s just...” She drew in a breath. “Remember Zoe who came to class a couple of weeks ago?”

“Sure. Jen’s friend.”

“We’ve been hanging out some and I went to a party at her house. Her dad was there.”

Shannon grinned. “How very age-appropriate. I see where this is going.”

“How can you? I didn’t.”

“What does that mean?”

“Miguel, her father, is a very handsome man.” Pam explained about his role with Saldivar tequila. “He’s traveled all over the world, he’s...” She clutched her coffee. “It actually doesn’t matter about him because he’s not the point.”

Shannon’s lips twitched in obvious amusement. “What is the point?”

“We went out to dinner. I thought he wanted to ask me about Zoe or something.”

“I love you so much,” Shannon told her. “You are always entertaining.”

“Stop it! This is important.” Pam stared at her intently. “Brace yourself.”

“I’m braced.”

“Fine. When we were done, he told me it was a date! And then he kissed me.”

“That bastard!”

Pam glared at her friend. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“That would be true.”

“You have to. This is significant. I don’t date.”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

Pam felt frustration building inside of her. “You’re not listening.”

“I’m hanging on your every word.” Her tone gentled. “I get you’re upset, but where’s the bad here? A handsome man took you to dinner and then kissed you. To me, that sounds like fun. You’re single. He’s single. Why not enjoy the ride?”

“I’m...” Pam pressed her lips together and did her best to keep from shrieking. “I’m not single.”

Shannon touched her arm. “You’re not married. You’re a widow. Yes, John was a wonderful man and you were lucky to be with him, but he’s been gone a long time. It’s okay to—”

“If you say ‘move on,’ I swear I’ll throw this coffee in your face.”

“No, you won’t.”

“I won’t. But I’m not dating. And I’m not single. I’m never getting married again. I wouldn’t do that to John.”

“Okay. That’s fine, but there’s an entire universe between a first date and marriage.” Her friend scooted closer. “Pam, you could live for another forty years. Don’t you want to think about the possibility that you might want to share a few of those years with someone?”

“No.”

Shannon continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’m not suggesting Miguel is ‘the one.’” She made air quotes with one hand. “But he sounds like a great place to start exploring the possibilities.”

Pam couldn’t have been more shocked if Shannon had suddenly started singing in Russian. “What about John?”

“Don’t you think he would want you to be happy?”

“Not with someone else.”

Shannon sipped her coffee before saying, “Really? John would want you to be alone?”

Pam sucked in a breath, then exhaled. “I can’t think about this. I’m not going to date anyone.”