her credit card to Maria. “We’ll save a couple of pieces for breakfast tomorrow.”
“Pizza for breakfast?”
“You’ve never had cold pizza for breakfast?”
He shook his head.
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
And he could live with that.
“Here’s an idea,” Maria said. “You and Casey, you’re having pizza. And you are taking pizza home for your daughter, yes?”
He could see where this was going. Judging by Sarah’s reluctant nod, so could she.
“You all should have dinner together.” Maria waggled her finger from one to the other. “And your girls, they get to know each other, be good friends, yes?”
He liked the idea more than he had any right to.
Sarah tilted her head. Her eyes, more green than gray in this light, were serious but the creases at their corners hinted at an uncertain smile. He’d initially thought she was standoffish, even a little uppity. Not so, he realized. More on the shy side, and because of that she was going to say no way, not in his wildest dreams was he insinuating himself into her evening. He shouldn’t care but he did, because an evening in the company of another adult suddenly had a lot of appeal.
“It’s not a bad idea,” she said, the smile now real. “For the girls, I mean. And it’ll give you and your daughter a break from unpacking.”
Okay. Not the reaction he expected, but she was right. Getting his daughter out of the house, having her spend time with someone her own age, would be good for her. “Sure,” he said. “Your place? Mine’s still full of boxes.”
Maria and Paolo stood shoulder to shoulder on the other side of counter, each sporting a mile-wide grin.
“Buona idea.” Maria sounded surprised, as if the good idea hadn’t even crossed her mind. She was a sly one, Jon thought. He had a hunch he was going to like this woman and her husband, and their food, if the warm aroma wafting from Sarah’s pizza boxes was anything to go by.
She tucked her credit card back into her wallet and picked up the boxes. “I’ll see you when your pizzas are ready. It’s a nice evening, so we can sit out on the deck.”
He watched her walk away, again noting the sensible flat shoes. This time he also noticed how she managed to walk like a woman wearing stilettos, and then he wished he hadn’t.
“You have decided what you want, yes?”
Jon swung around. “Ah. Yes. Two pizzas, please. Extra large.”
Paolo was back in the kitchen, throwing dough as he chuckled to himself, and Maria’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she jotted his order on a notepad. “Bella donna,” she said. “Una buona mamma.”
His Italian was far from fluent but he knew enough to know that the softly spoken phrases did not translate to Neapolitan or prosciutto with caramelized onions. And pizza was all he wanted. Just pizza.
* * *
SARAH PARKED IN the driveway between her place and her new neighbor’s. Jonathan’s place. Randomly stacked cardboard boxes, empty, she presumed, littered the porch, and a pair of bicycles leaned against the rail.
Maria and Paolo were about as subtle as a ton of bricks. While she’d stood there in the restaurant, with the pair of them grinning shamelessly and Jonathan waiting expectantly, the suggestion that they share a meal had seemed like a good one. Mostly she’d been thinking about her daughter. Sarah loved that Casey was content to march to the beat of her own drum, but a mother always wanted her daughter’s adolescence to be different from hers. Sarah had been the quiet kid, the wallflower. The first one everyone thought of when they needed help with homework or the gym decorated for a school dance. The last one considered when sleepovers were planned and party invitations sent out.
Sarah knew she couldn’t arrange “play dates” for a teenager, but it might be good for Casey to have someone close to her own age, a classmate, living next door. And maybe for Kate, too. The poor girl had looked lost and sullen, like a kid who could use a friend.
So far today, Eleanor Bentley and Maria Donatelli had not-so-subtly hinted about how nice it was for Sarah to have a handsome, eligible man living right next door. Silly romantics, both of them. Yes, Jonathan seemed to be a nice man, and yes, he was one of the most attractive she’d ever met. Did that mean she would toss common sense out the window, risk everything she’d worked so hard for? Absolutely not. She and Casey had a good life, a secure life, and she wouldn’t jeopardize that for anyone, no matter how dazzling his cool blue eyes might be.
Sarah let herself in the front door, set her handbag and keys on the hall table, and made her way to the kitchen with the pizza. Casey had set out plates, glasses and napkins on the island, but she was nowhere to be seen. Sarah switched the oven on low, shoved the pizzas inside to keep them warm, and took two more sets of dishes out of the cupboard.
She dashed upstairs and found Casey sprawled on her bed, earbuds in her ears and head bobbing to music as she scanned the screen of their iPad.
“What are you working on?” Sarah asked from the doorway.
Casey glanced at her and smiled.
“There are so many animals at the shelter right now. It’s crazy. I’m posting pictures of them on Facebook so everyone can see how adorable they are and maybe decide to adopt one of them.”
“That’s a great idea.” Which meant Sarah would see them, too, because one stipulation of her daughter’s being on Facebook was allowing her mom to have full access. A stipulation that Sarah took full advantage of, including checking the privacy settings periodically to make sure only her daughter’s friends had access to the things she posted. “Is there a picture of Petey?”
“No. I’m starting with the older animals because they’ll be harder to adopt.”
Putting up photos of the animals was a good idea, although Sarah knew exactly why Casey hadn’t included Petey’s picture. She wanted to adopt him. There was no time to go there right now, so Sarah changed the subject. “We’re having company for dinner tonight so I need to get changed and get back downstairs.”
Casey’s expression changed in an instant. “Company? We never have company.”
“Of course we do. Your grandparents come to visit twice a year.” One week at Christmastime and two weeks in early July.
“Grandparents aren’t company, they’re family.” Wary now, Casey swung off the bed and faced her. “Who’s coming for dinner?”
“The new neighbors, Jonathan and Kate. I ran into him at Paolo’s. He was picking up pizza, too. It seemed the neighborly thing to do since they’re not settled in yet.”
“Are they going to watch the movie, too?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Twilight might not be his thing, but you and Kate can watch it.”
Casey responded with an adamant head shake. “No. You and I watched the others together
