they’d never seen him in regular clothes before, he grumbled to himself.
Now that Megan was pregnant, she seemed to need her father more than ever. He realized that despite her happiness about the baby, she was feeling vulnerable and insecure. He’d had no chance to have an extended phone conversation with Faith since Megan had made her announcement. His daughter called him several times every evening, to talk about her mother, discuss baby names, ask his opinion on all kinds of pregnancy-related questions. He even wondered, almost guiltily, if she knew about him and Faith and was trying to thwart the relationship. But Megan couldn’t possibly know about Faith.
When he left the office, Troy drove down to South-worth and discovered that the lineup for the ferry was hours long. Too impatient to wait, he drove around instead, which meant crossing the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. Traffic was bound to be heavy, but it didn’t matter to Troy. He was going to see Faith. She talked more and more about moving to Cedar Cove, and he encouraged the idea.
For reasons he couldn’t really explain, he was nervous. Earlier that week, when Faith had invited him to dinner, Troy had decided he’d kiss her. Okay, he’d kiss her if he got the signal that she wouldn’t object.
He lost track of time as he drove through the steady but unobstructed traffic and was surprised to find himself at the freeway exit she’d instructed him to take.
Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up to the curb outside her house—a two-story colonial painted white with green shutters. The porch had two large columns, with a couple of wicker chairs and a glider. The lawn was well cared for and lined with flowering bushes. Sandy had liked flowers, too, and when she’d still been able to, had spent copious amounts of time maintaining their garden.
Troy stood there, staring at the house, when the door opened and she came outside.
“Troy! I’m so glad you’re here.”
He felt the warmth of her welcome all the way from her porch, and yet he remained rooted to the spot. The night before they’d talked for a mere ten minutes, mostly plans for tonight, but now that he was here, he seemed to have nothing more to say.
“Hi.” He shoved one hand in his pocket and once again felt as awkward as a high-school kid. With his other hand he clutched the bottle of sauvignon blanc he’d bought on the advice of a friend.
“Come in, please.” Faith gestured toward the house.
He nodded. His mouth had gone dry and his tongue felt like it was glued to his teeth.
Looking around, he walked up the porch steps and into the entry, thrusting his wine into Faith’s hand. The first thing that caught his eye was the carpeted staircase. Large framed photographs lined the wall going up the stairs—graduation photos of her two children, a couple of formal family shots and a portrait of her husband. He’d since learned that Carl had died of lung cancer, Troy’s gaze didn’t linger on the pictures. Instead, he glanced over at the living room, which was to his right. He could see that it was furnished with a sofa and a couple of matching chairs next to a brick fireplace. A few small tables. Lots of plants. That was where she led him.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked. “I have coffee, tea and soda.” She smiled. “And wine, of course.”
“Not yet, thanks,” he mumbled as he sat on one of the chairs next to the fireplace. A moment of uncomfortable silence followed.
“How was the traffic?”
“Fine.” He was suddenly hot and resisted the urge to unfasten the top button of his shirt.
“I was afraid it’d be bumper-to-bumper the entire way, but it looks like you made good time.”
Troy had no interest in this mundane conversation. “Listen, Faith,” he said abruptly. “I’d best get this over with now.” He stood and paced in front of the fireplace. “My wife was sick for many years.”
“Yes, Troy, I know that.”
“Right.” He was going over ground already covered. “There’s never been anyone else.”
“I’d be shocked if there had been.”
Troy saw that he was making a mess of this. “I’m not eighteen anymore, Faith. I don’t know about … these things.”
She looked at him with such sweet innocence, it was all he could do not to kiss her right then and there. “Just tell me, would you?” he groaned.
“Tell you what?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Oh.”
“I mean, if you’d rather I didn’t, I understand. But I don’t want to spend the whole evening wondering—worrying about it. So tell me now. Either way is fine.”
“Fine.” Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap. “I think it would be perfectly nice if we kissed.”
“Really?” All at once he felt lighter than air.
“Would you like to do it now?” she asked with a faint smile.
“Now?”
“I don’t want you to worry about it through dinner.”
He thought she might be teasing him but he didn’t take offense. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to wait.”
Faith grinned. “As a matter of fact, I’d like to wait, too.”
Then they had a glass of wine, and the conversation flowed as naturally as it always seemed to, everything from high-school reminiscences to the books they happened to be reading.
Because the dinner she’d made when he had to cancel at the last minute had gone more or less to waste, Troy insisted on taking her out. With the help of an online recommendation, he’d made reservations at an upscale waterfront restaurant. The place was small and elegant, with intimate lighting and attentive waiters. Faith raved about the seafood she had, and he had to agree that his salmon, too, was exceptionally good. Afterward they went for a walk along the beach near Alki, removing their shoes and strolling hand-in-hand. He carried his shoes, with his socks stuffed inside, and felt conscious of every sensory detail—the cool, firm sand, the brilliant colors of the setting sun, her enticing floral scent.
“I didn’t know what to think when you got to my house this evening,” Faith told him. “You looked so stern. I had this horrible feeling you’d gone through all that traffic just to come and tell me you didn’t want to see me again.”
“Hardly,” Troy muttered, loving the feel of her so close. Asking permission to kiss her might not have been his smoothest move, but he was glad he’d done it. Now he could concentrate on her and on the anticipation of that kiss.
“Might I remind you that you’ve already broken my heart once,” she said lightly.
“You recovered.”
“So did you.” She paused. “Troy, we both loved our spouses, but they’re gone. I’m so grateful that you and I have this second chance. Grateful and excited.”
“I feel the same way. Grateful, excited
