She perched on the end of the chair.
He took a seat across from her. He still had the same tell, the sign that gave away a devious turn in his thoughts. He always patted the top of his chest, as if smoothing his tie, whether he wore a tie or not. “I hope you’re not still angry with me.”
“What? Because of your…the divorce? No. I’m all over that.” Darcy smiled to prove it.
“Good. Because I wouldn’t want to think you’d do something to get back at me. To hurt me, or Autumn.”
Darcy laughed in surprise. “No. No, Boyz, I’m not fabricating what I told you about Willow for some twisted, jealous reason.” She took a deep breath. She lowered her voice and changed course. “Boyz, I’m glad you and Autumn are happy. I have no anger, no resentment. I’m happy, too. My life is full.”
He looked skeptical. “Okay, but frankly, Darcy, I don’t know what to believe about what you think you overheard. I love Willow. I’ve legally adopted her. She is my own daughter. Autumn and I are caring, watchful parents. We know what’s going on with her.”
“But—”
“So if you want to spend some time with me, let’s just do it. You don’t have to make up excuses.” He reached over to take her hand in his. “I always enjoyed being with you, Darcy.”
How had this all gone so wrong so fast, Darcy wondered. She jerked her hand away from his and stood up. “Boyz, I didn’t invent what I told you about Willow. And I won’t ‘make up excuses’ to see you again. But you have to realize that I’m out in my garden a lot, weeding, watering, sitting with friends. I’m not going to hide in the house all summer.”
Boyz rose, too. “Please don’t,” he urged. “Believe me, it would be—nice—for us to be back in touch with each other again.”
“Oh, Boyz.” There really were no right words, so Darcy shook her head and pushed her cart away, fast, right into the aisle that held diapers and Depends.
Darcy hurriedly chose and paid for her groceries, hoping she wouldn’t see Boyz again. She didn’t, thank heavens. Their exchange had rattled her. It had made her feel defensive—she hadn’t been trying to flirt with him! Had he even heard what she’d said about Willow?
Safely settled in the everyday nest of her car, she picked up her cellphone and called Jordan.
“Can I come see you? Now? I just ran into Boyz in the grocery store.”
“No, you did not.”
“I did.”
“Oh, good grief! Of course. Come over now.”
Today when Darcy arrived at Jordan’s house, her friend was in the backyard, watching her daughter, Kiks, sitting in a round blue baby swimming pool. It had only about three inches of water in it, but that was enough for Kiks to splash with her hands, shrieking with delight.
“She’ll go down for a nap pretty soon,” Jordan said. “But I can’t wait. Tell me.”
“I was in Stop & Shop.” Darcy sat on the grass next to Jordan. “We simply bumped into each other, almost literally bumping carts. He wore madras Bermuda shorts, Jordan! And he has the silliest knobby knees, like a flamingo!”
Kiks giggled and clapped, as if she understood Darcy’s words, and continued to slap her rubber ducky down under the water, shrieking when it bobbed up again.
“So you absolutely are over him, then,” Jordan remarked.
“I’m so over him, the fact that I married him makes me doubt my sanity.”
“You didn’t experience even the tiniest rush of attraction?”
“God, no! I can’t explain it. It was so bizarre, like staring at a fun house mirror, one of those wavery ones that makes you look all out of shape. But the ickiest thing was when I told him about his stepdaughter, Willow, and Logan Smith— he thought I was making it up!”
Kiks tossed her rubber ducky onto the grass. Darcy picked it up and put it back in the water. She did this probably fifty times while she described the entire conversation in detail to Jordan. By the time she finished, Kiks was getting fretful, rubbing her eyes and getting water in her nose in the process.
“Nap time for baby,” Jordan said. She picked her daughter up, wrapped her in a towel, and headed for the house. “Come in. I’ll rock her for five minutes, then put her down. You can make us some iced tea.”
Performing the normal household ritual of boiling the water, pouring the water over Jordan’s favorite Earl Grey leaves, setting the mugs on the kitchen table all calmed Darcy. Outside, the day was hot. Here, in the shady kitchen, it was cool, gravity still held the chairs to the floor, and Jordan hadn’t done the breakfast dishes. The world went on as normal. Darcy did the dishes while Jordan was with Kiks. She sprayed the counters with antibacterial cleanser and wiped them down. The room smelled pleasantly of lemon.
“Oh, you are a mother’s dream,” Jordan said, when she came in without her baby. “Thanks for doing the dishes.”
“Consider it my payment for psychotherapy.” Darcy dropped ice cubes into colorful outdoor glasses and poured the tea. They settled at the kitchen table. “If I hadn’t been able to vent to you, I hate to think what I might have done. It makes me so angry that he completely dismissed what I said about Willow.”
Jordan sipped her tea, cocked her head, and looked wise. “Are any of his family coming to visit? Are you still friends with any of them—the sisters, maybe?”
“I wish. I don’t know. The first year, I missed Irena and Lena. I think I enjoyed being with them more than with Boyz. They were nice to me. His parents were always stuck-up. We’re out of touch now, not even a Christmas card.” Darcy stirred her tea. “Jordan, what should I do? About Willow, I mean.”
“I think you have to let it go,” Jordan said. “If Boyz doesn’t believe you, what can you do? He told you they were good parents, he might pay closer attention to what Willow’s doing, but you’ve got to stay out of it.”
“She’s a vulnerable young girl—”
“But not your young girl.”
“Still…it makes me feel uneasy.”
“Get over it. Forget it. Let’s move on to the good stuff—like when’s your date with Clive Rush?”
Darcy laughed. “It’s not a date, Jordan. Or if it is, we’ve got our own version of a duenna. Mimi is coming with us.” As she talked, her fears for Willow dissipated and her own life filled her thoughts. “It’s tomorrow night. And I’ve planned my menu around Mimi. I hope the weather holds and we can eat in the backyard. I don’t want to embarrass her by serving something she has to cut, like steak, because I’m not sure how strong her hands are. So I’m making a casserole of rice, shrimp, scallops, and bacon. I thought of linguini, but that might be tricky for Mimi, too. It’s hard to wind those noodles onto a fork….And no salad greens, especially arugula, because it’s impossible to eat elegantly. Bartlett’s tomatoes, sliced.”