A Million Little Things (Mischief Bay, #3)

“You, on the other hand,” he said, “were married to the same man for how long?”

“Thirty-one years. I met John when I was a teenager. We had three children together.” She pulled back her hand and tucked it on her lap. “I thought we would grow old together. His death was very unexpected.”

Miguel nodded. “I would imagine you were devastated. With Constance, we knew the end was coming, yet it was still difficult. Losing a loved one is always hard, regardless of the circumstances. I still miss her.”

“I miss John, as well. Everything is so different now, yet he’s still a part of things.” She picked up her fork. “I have the friends I travel with, my wonderful grandson, my children. My life is full.”

“John is always with you.”

“I know. I take comfort in that.”

She supposed her friends would tell her this was truly awful conversation for what was supposed to be a date. But if she and Miguel couldn’t talk about their pasts, then they didn’t have much of a future. She was who she was today because she had been with John for so long.

“You’re strong,” he told her.

“I suppose I am. I was always fairly competent, but I’m not sure I would have said I was strong. Now I’ve had to learn to be. I bought my condo and I’ve moved on.”

“Do you regret selling the family house?”

“I didn’t sell it. I gave it to my daughter. She lives there with her husband and her son. So I get back all the time.” She laughed. “Every now and then I want to complain about the changes she’s made, but then I have to remind myself that it’s not my house anymore. So if she wants to paint or replace the carpet, I keep my mouth shut.”

He chuckled, then rose and cleared the salad. Pam looked out in the yard. Both Mariposa and Lulu were stretched out in the sun, as if they’d exhausted each other playing.

Miguel returned with the main course. “Grilled chicken with polenta cakes,” he said as he refilled her glass.

Pam thought about stopping him, then decided she would enjoy herself. There was always Uber.

She took a drink. “You never thought about remarrying after Constance?”

“No. I wasn’t interested in settling down.”

“Too many beautiful women?” she asked, her voice teasing.

“Yes. There was that. Also, I didn’t want to have regrets. I know I hurt Constance and Zoe when I left. We recovered, but there is still a wound. Falling in love again seemed more of a risk than I was willing to take.”

“I know what you mean. I can’t imagine ever caring about anyone the way I cared about John. He was my world. I don’t think I would risk that again.” She was starting to feel the tequila. It was the only explanation for her suddenly blurting out, “I’m not getting married again. I’ll always be John’s wife.”

Her words hung out there for several seconds. Pam felt her cheeks heat, but didn’t call back the statement. While she knew that a couple of dates didn’t mean she and Miguel had progressed past casual acquaintances and there was no reason to suspect he would ever want to be more, she couldn’t help needing to be clear to him and maybe to herself.

He looked at her, his dark gaze steady. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I can see that.” He pointed to her plate. “Try the polenta. I think you’ll like it. Louisa does an excellent job with it.”

She took a bite. “It’s delicious.” She waited to see if he had more to say about her proclamation, but when it seemed he didn’t, she said, “Tell me about where you enjoyed traveling the most.”

“Anywhere tropical.” He smiled. “And not because of the young women in bikinis.”

“Did I say anything?”

“You were thinking it. I could tell.”

She laughed. “I wasn’t, but I am now.”

They talked about his travels and hers. She told him about the cruise she was taking with her friends in a few weeks. They didn’t discuss Constance again, or John, but Pam felt as if she’d been clear on her feelings. Apparently he was fine with them. Maybe this dating thing wasn’t so very hard after all.

*

Zoe waited at the bottom of the little kid slide in the park while Jen helped Jack into position.

“You ready?” Jen asked, her tone light. “I’m going to let go.”

Jack waved his arms, then shrieked with laughter as he made his way down the slide. Zoe caught him and helped him to his feet. He pointed to the slide and raced back to the short ladder, indicating he wanted to go again.

He really didn’t talk, Zoe thought. Jen wasn’t imagining that. But he made himself understood, so that was good. She was careful not to say anything. Jen was barely holding it together. She’d been spending all her free time at the hospital with Kirk’s partner. Zoe had stayed with Jack twice already and Jen’s family was helping out when they could.

“You going back to the hospital tonight?” Zoe asked.

Jen shook her head. “Kirk wants me to stay home and get some sleep.” She covered a yawn. “I’m not going to say no. I’m exhausted. But Lucas is getting better and that’s what matters.” She released Jack, who slid to the ground and giggled. “I’ve ordered a hospital bed and one of those rolling tables for him. The wound in his leg is healing pretty quickly so he should be able to get around a little.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m grateful. I’m happy to take care of him but I don’t think either Lucas or I want me to be helping him with a bedpan.”

“That would be awkward. When does he get released?”

“Tomorrow sometime. Kirk and one of the other detectives will bring him home. He’s going to need to stay with us at least three weeks. Maybe longer.”

“Let me know how I can help.”

“You’ve been great,” Jen told her. “This has been really hard for me.” She grimaced. “I used to resent Lucas and worry he was leading Kirk astray. Now I worry that Kirk is out there with a temporary partner who might not be so willing to take a bullet.” She drew in a breath. “I guess this is a lesson to be grateful for what I have.”

Jack ran around to climb the slide again.