Jen shrugged. “I’m okay. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
Pam pressed her lips together to keep from saying something she would probably regret. While she appreciated that Jen was an attentive parent, her daughter was making herself sick with worry about things that were never going to happen. Or at least were unlikely to. She was in a constant state of alert about Kirk getting injured on the job. While being a police officer was certainly dangerous, Kirk was now a detective. He had experience and a partner. As for something being wrong with Jack...
Pam told herself not to go there. She didn’t want to fight with her daughter, but she couldn’t help worrying about her. Jen was making things harder than they had to be. Pam had a feeling that whatever Jen had shared, there was so much more she wasn’t saying. Jack’s first few years were supposed to be wonderful, not terrifying.
They all went out to the backyard. Zoe had set up tables in the shade. There was a play area for the kids and a drinks station.
Zoe came over to greet them. She tickled little Jack and thanked them all for coming.
“Have I met your father before?” Pam asked her. “He looks familiar.”
Zoe grinned. “He was the face of Saldivar tequila for years. You’ve seen him in magazine ads and on TV.”
“Of course. I should have remembered.”
Jen took Jack and set him on the ground. He ran toward two other children and Jen followed. Kirk went with her. Zoe leaned close to Pam.
“My father is very charming. He can’t help it. Just so you’re warned.”
“Don’t worry. I promise not to be swept off my feet by him.” She appreciated the information—not that she was interested or anything, but the man was very appealing. She linked arms with Zoe. “All right. Introduce me to your friends. I want to find out what the current slang words are. I’m sure mine are all outdated.”
The afternoon was sunny and warm. Pam enjoyed chatting with everyone. She took charge of Jack during dinner so Jen and Kirk could hang out together. Sometime after, she found herself sitting in a beach chair on the lawn next to Miguel.
He eyed her glass of iced tea. “You don’t like margaritas?” he asked. “I made them myself.”
“I like them just fine and I had one earlier. But I have to drive home.”
“A cautious woman. Interesting. Tell me, Pamela, what do you do?”
She thought about correcting him—she always went by Pam. But there was something about the way the more formal version rolled off his tongue. It was nice, she told herself. Fun.
“I volunteer with an organization called Moving Women Forward. They support women entrepreneurs. I’m a mentor. I also take care of my grandson and spend time with my friends. I travel a few times a year, that sort of thing.”
It wasn’t a life that would change the world, but it was a very good one and she knew she’d been blessed.
“What about you?” she asked. “Zoe mentioned you’d worked in the family business. As the spokesman.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Did she? I’m retired now. My nephew is younger, which has an appeal, I suppose. But he’s hardly more handsome.”
Pam laughed. “I’m sure that’s true.”
Miguel winked at her. “You’re going to hear stories about me.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. That I’m charming and fickle when it comes to women.”
“You’re saying neither is true?”
He touched his hand to his chest. “You wound me. Of course I’m charming. As for the women, perhaps years ago. After my divorce. I had a modest amount of fame and I might have used it to my advantage.”
She would guess that was quite the understatement. “And now?”
“I have learned to appreciate different things. Maturity and wisdom bring their own kind of beauty.”
Pam did her best not to snort. Talk about a line. Sure, it was a good one, but still. “Miguel, I promise I will only believe the good things about you.”
“I appreciate that.” He glanced around the backyard. “This reminds me of when I was in Rio many years ago. One of our distributors invited me to his home for a birthday party for his youngest daughter. She was turning seven and the whole family was there. So many generations celebrating together. I fear we are losing that.”
“I know what you mean. I appreciate getting to hang out with at least two of my children, but not enough people do.”
“How many children do you have?”
“Three.” She pointed to Jen and Steven. “Brandon is in San Francisco.” She smiled. “If I say he’s a doctor, will you accuse me of bragging?”
“I promise I will not.”
“Then he’s a doctor. Brandon was one of those kids who makes you want to bang your head against the wall. If there was an easy way and a hard way, he would find the impossible way. But he’s doing great now.”
Miguel studied her. “You were a good mother.”
“I like to think so but you can’t possibly know one way or the other.”
“I have a sense about these things. There is a determination about you. Whatever the problem, you would have seen it through to the end.”
A lucky guess, she told herself, slightly surprised he would have figured that out about her.
“You are out of iced tea.” Miguel rose and reached for her glass. “I’ll be right back.”
Pam watched him go, appreciating the view. Yes, he was a very interesting man. Charming and—
Steven dropped into the empty seat. He angled toward her. “Mom, you have to be careful. With Miguel. You’ve been talking to him for a while. Zoe’s told me all about him. He’s a player. I know he’s charming and all that, but it’s superficial.”
“Oh, dear God.” Pam stared at him. “First Zoe and now you? How incompetent do you think I am?”
“Not incompetent,” Steven said hastily. “Just, you know, inexperienced. You were married to Dad for a long time and you’re not used to...” He seemed to be searching for the right word.
“The ways of the world?” she offered dryly.
“Uh, sure.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Mom, I love you and I don’t want you to get hurt. You know, thinking that Miguel is really—”
She stared at him. “Go on.”
“Um, nothing.”
“You don’t want me thinking that Miguel could possibly be interested in me? Is that it? Because I’d like to point out he’s several years older than me, so it couldn’t possibly be an age thing. Are you saying I’m not attractive enough? You think your mother is ugly?” She supposed it was wrong to torture him like this, but seriously, he’d started it.
Steven nearly whimpered. “Mom, I’m just—”
“Oh, I know what you are and what you’re thinking. That I’m so pathetic I would think that Miguel was actually interested in me. That I’m so unsophisticated and backward that I would be swooning over the first man to bat his eyelashes at me. Let me tell you something, Steven Eiland. You and your generation didn’t invent sex. I was doing it years before you were born. And while I might have been happily married for thirty years, I’m not an idiot. I understand exactly who and what Miguel is. Now, unless you want me to start talking about all the things I know that you don’t—when it comes to what goes on between a man and a woman—I suggest you hightail