that her hands were shaking, she tucked them into her skirt pockets. To her surprise, Steve touched Jordan’s shoulder in an obvious gesture of encouragement.
“I didn’t run into Jordan at the library. He showed up at my house.”
Lily couldn’t have been more surprised if Steve had said they had run into each other at a quilting bee. “You hitched?” she demanded, horrified that he would break one of her biggest rules.
Jordan shook his head. “I took a taxi.”
She didn’t have to ask why. “And what did you tell him?” she demanded of Steve, hoping he hadn’t been too callous. It wasn’t as though he owed her the slightest atom of consideration, but Jordan was an innocent victim in this mess. One who had deserved to hear the truth from his mother a long time ago.
“He wouldn’t tell me anything,” Jordan replied before Steve could. “He said to ask you.” His voice was accusing, as though he was fed up with being jerked around.
Lily’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment. She had no one to blame but herself that this awkward conversation wasn’t taking place in private. Before she could tell Steve how sorry she was that he had been drawn into it, he ruffled Jordan’s hair.
“I’ll see you, kid,” Steve said. “Obviously you two have a lot to discuss, so I’d better go.”
“Thanks for the sandwich,” Jordan replied. “Your house is really cool, and so are your dogs.”
The wistful note in her son’s voice sent fresh guilt surging through Lily. All of this was her fault.
“Yes, thank you,” she echoed as Steve walked out the front door. “It was, um, good to see you again.”
He glanced back at her, one golden brow arched mockingly. “Right. You, too.” His tone was dry. “Talk to your son,” he added with a last glance at Jordan. “Take care.”
“’Bye,” Jordan replied.
Refusing to stare at Steve’s retreating form, Lily shut the front door firmly while her mind spun in search of inspiration.
“Was that Steve?” Dolly asked from the landing at the top of the stairs. “He’s such a nice young man, isn’t he? A real hunk.”
Dolly hadn’t been living in Crescent Cove when Lily left, but no doubt she’d heard the story of Pauline’s broken engagement to Carter Black more than a decade ago, and the part Lily had played.
“He gave Jordan a ride,” she said. “How was your nap?” She was tempted to use Dolly’s appearance as an excuse to postpone the conversation she needed to have with her son, but she refused to take the coward’s way out.
“I feel like a new woman,” Dolly replied as she descended the stairs slowly with one gnarled hand on the carved wood banister. “I think I’ll have a cup of tea and sit in the garden. Would either of you care to join me?”
“No, thanks,” Jordan replied politely.
“Me, neither,” Lily said. “There’s something that my son and I need to discuss, so if you’ll excuse us…” Her voice trailed off as she realized there was no going back now. After she answered Jordan’s question about his paternity, she would need to talk to Pauline, as well. Lily could only hope that their recent reconciliation would be strong enough to handle the truth.
“We’ll be in my room if you need anything,” she added.
“Go ahead and have your chat.” Dolly gave them a smile and a dismissing wave. “I’ve got a new mystery that I’m eager to read.”
Steve drove straight from seeing Lily to his favorite watering hole down by the docks. The Crab Pot was a tavern with a big-screen TV, a couple of pool tables, decent food and a postage-size dance floor. This afternoon, the only thing that interested him was the cold beer on tap and the chance to sort out his reactions in familiar surroundings.
He pulled into the gravel parking lot, bouncing across the potholes, and parked near the worn steps leading past a row of weathered wood pilings to the peeling front door. Colorful neon beer signs lit up the window with a fishing net hanging across the top. He barely noticed any of it as he went inside.
He was greeted with the odors of deep-fried seafood and yeasty beer, the buzz of voices from the bar, music from the jukebox and the occasional snick of pool balls colliding with one another on a nearby table. Riley, the oversize member of the local Suquamish tribe who served as a bouncer, sat at the bar where he was deep in conversation with one of the waitresses.
Pausing in the doorway, Steve noticed Wade seated alone at a table. He glanced up from his newspaper and waved Steve over.
“Need a menu, honey?” asked the waitress, whose helmet of red hair was as familiar to Steve as the moose head mounted over the bar.
“No, thanks, Char,” he replied. “Just bring us a fresh pitcher and another glass.”
“What are you doing here in the middle of the day?” Wade asked as he put aside the paper. On the table sat a plastic basket holding a couple of lonely fries and an empty tartar sauce container.
Steve pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down. “I got thirsty. What’s your story?”
Wade shrugged. “Pauline’s at the shop and I found a new office, so I’m celebrating.”
“Good for you. Where’s it at?” Glad for the distraction, Steve listened carefully while Wade described the old house and his plans to renovate it. “Call me if you need any help,” Steve offered when Wade had finally run down.
“Thanks,” Wade replied. “What’s new with you?”
Steve slouched down in the chair and stretched out his legs to the side. “Guess who showed up on my doorstep a while ago?”
Wade’s forehead pleated into a puzzled frown. “I dunno. Who?”
Steve hesitated while Char brought over a pitcher of pale amber liquid. After filling his glass and topping off Wade’s, she collected the lunch trash.
“Anything else I can bring you all right now?” She worked her gum, one hand parked on her hip. A pencil was stuck through the swirl of hair above her ear and a plastic name tag was pinned to the front of her red-and-black uniform shirt. “The mussel stew is real good today.”
“No, thanks,” Steve replied. If he tried to eat with his stomach churning like a concrete mixer, he would probably regret it.
“You were about to reveal the identity of your visitor,” Wade prompted as soon as Char sauntered off with her tray tucked under one arm. “I hope it wasn’t a process server slapping you with a lawsuit.”
“Nothing like that,” Steve replied after he’d wet his throat. “I’d almost prefer that it had been.”
Wade’s eyes widened. “Lily came to see you?” he guessed.
“Close enough.” Steve wiped the foam from his mustache with a paper napkin. “Her son.”
Wade
