“I should be, if that’s okay with you.”
His glance over one shoulder was directed at Leah, and she acknowledged it, her smile widening.
“That would be great, wouldn’t it, Gracie?”
“Oh, yes! You can help us make the pizza, Daddy.”
“We can order pizza,” John began, then apparently caight the subtle shake of Leah’s head. “But making our own sounds like a lot of fun.”
“I thought so, too,” Leah said. “Gracie suggested it, and sometimes she has the best ideas.”
“We won’t start till you get here, okay, Daddy?”
“Okay, Gracie.”
“So don’t be late.”
“I won’t, sweetie.”
He crossed to the table and dropped a kiss on his daughter’s blond, curly hair. For just an instant, as she watched them together, Leah imagined how she would feel if John kissed her goodbye, as well—not on the top of her head, but smack on her mouth.
Wonderful, she decided; it would feel just wonderful.
“What do you two have planned for the day?” John asked Leah as he returned to the counter to collect his mug.
“We’re going to finish planting the flowers we bought,” Leah replied, tantalized by the faint spicy scent of his aftershave.
“There were quite a few, weren’t there.” He offered her a teasing smile that reminded her of years past, then crossed to the outside door and reached for the knob.
Warmed by his easy banter, unexpected as it was, Leah shot him a wry look. “I would say we went a bit overboard at the nursery yesterday, but then somebody might say he told me so.”
“Told you so,” John said, all but hooting with satisfaction, and was gone.
“Do you really think he’ll come home for dinner tonight?” Gracie asked, sounding doubtful after the door closed behind him. “He could get real busy and have to work late again and forget to tell us.”
“He’ll be here, Gracie,” Leah assured the little girl, thinking he would be even if it meant she had to track him down at the university and drag him home personally.
“But sometimes he forgets.”
“Then we’ll give him a call at four o’clock and remind him to come home. How does that sound to you?”
“That sounds like a plan, man,” Gracie answered, giggling with delight at the rhyme she’d made.
“You’re silly sometimes, you know?”
“You, too, Aunt Leah.”
“I do my best.” She reached out and ruffled Gracie’s curls, then pushed away from the table. “Let’s clean up the kitchen first, then it’s planting time again.”
“Can I rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher?”
“Sure thing.”
The ringing of the telephone caught Leah by surprise. It was only the second time someone had called John’s house since she’d been there. The first time it had been her father and stepmother, wanting to let her know they’d arrived safely in London.
Leah had suspected they’d also wanted to know how she was getting along with John, and although they hadn’t come right out and asked, she’d kept her conversation light and breezy enough to assure them all was well, even though it hadn’t been at the time. They’d promised to call again from Paris, but they weren’t due to travel there for another week at least, so it probably wasn’t them—
“I’ll get it,” Gracie sang out.
She grabbed the receiver and voiced a cheery hello, then stood quietly listening to whatever the caller was saying, her expression growing wide-eyed. Leah was about to take the receiver from her in case it was a prank call of some sort when Gracie spoke again in a soft, rather breathless voice.
“She’s right here,” the little girl said, then pressed the receiver against her chest and whispered to Leah, “It’s for you. It’s somebody named Kyle. Is he your boyfriend?”
“Kyle?” Leah spoke his name in a whisper of her own.
She wasn’t sure whether the flip-flop she’d felt in her belly had resulted from surprised delight or a twist of pain. Six weeks ago she’d thought she’d seen and heard the last of Kyle O’Connor, and also thought it was just as well.
“Do you want to talk to him, Aunt Leah?” Gracie prodded, still whispering.
“Yes, I do,” she admitted, as much to herself as to the little girl, for reasons she dared not consider too closely.
She took the receiver from Gracie, her palm damp against the plastic casing, then pressed it to her own chest for several long moments as she tried not only to steady her breathing, but to organize her thoughts. To her relief she realized that any pleasure his telephone call had caused her initially was already being nudged aside by an increasing edge of annoyance she knew she had every right to feel.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Gracie asked, suddenly concerned.
“Oh, I’m going to say quite a lot, sweetie. Why don’t you start on the dishes?”
As Gracie carried her plate to the sink, then stepped up on the stool to rinse it under the faucet, Leah moved to the opposite side of the kitchen, dragging the telephone cord behind her.
“Kyle? Hello. How are you?” she began, trying with some success to keep her tone neutral.
“Leah, darling, how are you?”
The dark, smoky sound of his voice took Leah back almost a year, to the day she’d first met him. The headmaster of a school for boys in Chicago, Kyle O’Connor had been attending the same educators’ workshop as Leah. They’d ended up sitting side by side at the luncheon and had struck up a conversation easily enough. An attractive, intelligent older man, twenty years her senior, he had flattered her with his interest and attention.
He had sought her out after the workshop ended, as well, and had invited her to have a drink with him. Over glasses of wine in the hotel bar, Leah had found out that he was separated from his wife of eighteen years, that he had two sons, one thirteen, the other sixteen, and that he was as eager as she for the companionship of someone bright and kind and funny.
“I’m fine, Kyle, just fine,” Leah replied, firmly setting aside memories of the past.
“I had the devil of a time getting your telephone number. I finally weaseled it out of your landlady. I had to pretend I was desperate, only, I guess I wasn’t really pretending.” He laughed then in a self-deprecating manner, obviously amused at himself, one of his more charming and disarming traits. “So you’ve gone back to Montana. Lovely little place to vacation, I suppose. But your landlady said you were planning on staying there all summer. Tell me that’s not true, Leah.”
“It’s true, Kyle. I’m staying here all summer.” Leah hesitated, not sure what else she had to say to him, or more accurately, not sure she even had anything else to say to him.
She was confused by his sudden interest in her whereabouts and also irritated. He had no right to question how she’d chosen to spend her summer holiday. Nor did he have any right to condemn the choice she’d made.
“I’d much rather have you here, darling.”
“I’m not sure exactly what you’re trying to say to me, but the last time we talked, you told me you’d