The aroma of burgers and fries filled the air, as they sat at the white Formica table, the past hovering too close, the future just out of reach.
When one of Burger Bob’s employees brought a tray of food and set it down, Kristin called Bobby to eat.
“Aw, do I have to?” the boy asked.
Kristin was ready to begin the usual argument, whenever her son wanted to continue playing instead of going to bed, brushing his teeth or eating dinner, but Joe stepped in.
“Bobby, a fireman has to eat when the chow is in front of him, since he never knows when he’ll be called out on an emergency that could keep him away from the station for hours.”
The boy nodded, then joined them at the table, taking a seat next to Joe. More than once, his eyes flitted back and forth between his messy, ketchup-laden burger and the man he’d obviously come to admire.
“Do you have a family?” Bobby asked Joe. “You know, kids and stuff?”
Both adults paused, hands half-raised or half-lowered, jaws frozen.
“The guys down at the fire station are my brothers,” Joe said. “And I’ve got a friend named Harry, who has included me in his family.”
Joe shot a glance at Kristin, and she bit her bottom lip.
She could read the pain in his eyes, the accusation. The disappointment. He wanted her to tell Bobby now, to use this as an opening to explain. But she couldn’t allow it. Her son might tell her father.
No more lies, she’d promised herself. But she couldn’t help this lie of omission.
What a web she’d woven.
As Joe munched on a double bacon cheeseburger, Bobby studied him while sucking chocolate shake through a straw. “For an adult, you’re pretty cool.”
“Oh, yeah?” Joe answered, a grin tugging at his lips. “Thanks.”
“You’re even more cool than Dr. Dylan.”
“Dr. Dylan?” Joe asked. His eyes traveled to Kristin, and she felt her cheeks warm.
Her fiancé, Dylan Montgomery, was better known as Dr. Dylan. And it was no surprise to her that Bobby would like Joe better. Dylan hadn’t taken Bobby on any outings—yet, although she was sure he would one of these days. Dylan’s book tours and speaking engagements took up a lot of his time.
“He’s not a shot-and-medicine kind of doctor,” Bobby said. “He’s on TV.”
“A movie star?” Joe asked.
“No,” Bobby interjected before Kristin could explain. “Not like that. Dr. Dylan just tells other people what they’re doing wrong.”
Joe looked at Kristin, then questioned the boy. “Does your mom take you to see Dr. Dylan?”
“Nope. He comes to our house, sometimes. He’s my mom’s boyfriend.”
“I see,” Joe said.
So, pretty Kristin hadn’t been a hermit. Or celibate. But then, neither had Joe. But for some reason, it prickled him to know she had a boyfriend.
Because of his son, he told himself. That’s the only reason.
But maybe he was just plain envious of the guy who’d captured Kristin’s heart. Envious because Dr. Dylan represented the kind of man Thomas Reynolds approved of as a son-in-law.
Bobby popped a French fry into his mouth. Between chews, he said, “Dr. Dylan is stuffy.”
“Stuffy?” Joe asked.
“That’s what Megan, my sitter, says. I’m not sure what it means, but I think it’s because he reminds her of my stuffed walrus.”
Kristin choked on a fry—uncomfortable with the table topic?—then cleared her throat. “Looks like I’m going to have to talk to Megan. I don’t think Dr. Dylan looks like Wally the Walrus.”
“He has that funny mustache,” Bobby reminded her. “And his chest and neck get all poochy when he talks.”
“You’ve always liked Dr. Dylan,” Kristin said. A blush on her cheeks suggested the conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn.
“I do.” Bobby looked at Joe and laughed. “I like Wally the Walrus, too.”
Joe couldn’t help but chuckle. He wondered whether he should correct the kid, but for what? Being honest? Having an opinion? Heck, he didn’t need to lay eyes on the guy to share the stuffed-walrus opinion.
Bobby pushed the remnants of his burger aside. “Can I go play now?”
“One more bite,” Kristin responded.
The boy complied, then dashed toward the multicolored climbing structure, leaving Joe and Kristin alone. Joe took the opportunity to learn more about Dr. Dylan, to find out how Kristin felt about the man. How deep their relationship went.
But only because the man might become his son’s stepfather, Joe told himself. That was the only reason. Yet he couldn’t ignore a tinge of envy.
“So, tell me about Dr. Wally.”
Kristin clicked her tongue. “Stop that. His name is Dylan. And he doesn’t look like a stuffed walrus.”
“Okay. Tell me about Dr. Dylan.”
She arched a brow. “Why do you want to know about him?”
“Just curious.”
She scrunched her nose, and Joe assumed she felt awkward discussing her new lover with her old one.
He supposed it felt kind of weird to him, too, but like a puppy with a brand-new slipper in his mouth, he couldn’t seem to leave it alone. “Is he good to you?”
She nodded. “And he’s good to Bobby, too. Although he says I’m too easy on him.”
“Are you?”
“Bobby seems to get into a lot of trouble, but sometimes I find it kind of funny. Or clever. The other day, he took the closet doors off the runner, leaned them against the shelf and made a slide in the bedroom.” She fiddled with the straw in her drink. “I scolded him, of course, but didn’t give him time-out.”
Joe’s old man would have found that reason to bounce Joe across the room. Kristin’s method of discipline seemed in line with his own.
“Dylan thought Bobby was being destructive. But the doors had already been broken, and I was waiting for the handyman to fix them. I thought Bobby was just bored. And a little creative.”
“I agree.” Joe reached across the table, took her hand in spite of his resolve not to get too touchy-feely. “Bobby’s a great kid, Kristin. You’ve done a good job raising him by yourself.”
He
