started shy with each other, but once Jenna broke the ice, they, too, argued about TV shows and movies and whether this pizza was as good as the pizza at Pagliacci. The more gourmet places were not on her kids’ radar any more than they were on Molly’s. She liked plain cheese. As it turned out, Jenna concurred. The three kids shared one pie, with pepperoni on half of it for Josh. Nate and Anna agreed on a slightly more sophisticated choice, with mozzarella, Asiago, fresh chopped basil, garlic and sliced tomatoes. They ate salads, too. She didn’t bother asking her kids if they wanted one. When he did ask Molly, she said, “No, thank you, Daddy,” in that irritatingly polite way she had of keeping him at a distance.
Josh grumbled that frozen pizzas were never this good. Then he said, “We haven’t been here for a long time. Mom wouldn’t—”
She cut in, her tone light. “Mom abused you with home-cooked meals. Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, but—”
Somehow she diverted him, but Nate noticed her cheeks had warmed.
He had to grit his teeth to keep himself from saying something. He didn’t like the reminder that she’d turned down help from him even as she had to worry about every penny. It also hadn’t escaped his notice that she had lost weight.
“Pizza’s good,” he commented, waiting until she reluctantly glanced at him.
“Yes, it is. Thank you for suggesting this.”
“Tell me about the house sale,” he said, wanting to hold on to her attention now that he had it. “Do you have any idea when you can close?”
Josh pantomimed slamming something onto the table, and Molly and Jenna giggled. Hearing that giggle, Nate felt lighter. The pizza didn’t seem to be aggravating his stomach problems, either.
“No. The buyers need financing, so even though they were preapproved, we have to wait while the loan request goes through. Alan—my agent—thought about a month.”
“Are you ending up in the hole?”
She leveled a stare at him. “I can’t believe you asked that.”
“I’m a pushy guy.” She didn’t appear to see persistence as the virtue he did.
Her eyes narrowed. “What’s so funny about that?”
“A private thought.”
“You mean, you do understand the concept of privacy?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I do. I just figure it never hurts to ask.”
“It doesn’t hurt you,” Anna said very quietly.
Sobering, he nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Seeing the deliberate way she turned a shoulder to him and joined the kids’ conversation again, he realized he’d stepped in it. Damn it, why had he thought she’d answer a question like that? He rarely surrendered to impulse.
He tuned in to hear Anna asking Molly about her teacher. Josh didn’t seem to be reacting negatively to seeing Molly again, so enrolling her in her old school here in Bellevue shouldn’t be a problem.
Or, hey, Josh and Molly might be as good at hiding what they were really thinking as the two adults were.
They boxed up what pizza was left and took it with them, returning to their two cars. Hers looked even shabbier beside his Lexus.
“Stick close,” he reminded Anna, after being sure Molly was belted in properly.
She was still strapping her own wriggling daughter into the back seat. “With the address, I imagine I could find it.”
He dragged his gaze from her shapely rear end. “It’s tricky knowing which driveway is ours.”
“Fine.”
Pulling out of the parking lot, Nate kept an eye on the rearview mirror. It took him a few blocks to notice that Molly hadn’t said a word.
“You like Josh and Jenna?” he asked.
Anna’s old car was hanging close behind.
“Yes, only—” Molly screwed up her face. “It’s my fault their daddy is gone, so why aren’t they mad?”
Hating the agony he heard in her voice, Nate said, “Maybe they know it’s not your fault. We talked about this.”
“Yes, but...” She bent her head, hiding her expression.
He waited, to no avail. “Anna doesn’t blame you, either, or she wouldn’t have agreed to come live with us until your mom is better and ready to take you back.”
No comment. He hadn’t a clue what Molly thought about her mother’s absence. Living with an alcoholic parent couldn’t be easy at any age. Was she relieved? Desperate for Mommy to take her home? Or justifiably afraid Mommy wouldn’t be better, after all?
Nate made the turn onto Shoreland Drive, satisfied to see Anna still right behind. The private lane wasn’t well marked. At the end, it split into three driveways, his being the right-hand one. The view of the lake opened, and he tapped the remote control to access the garage, driving straight in. Anna parked where she’d have room to make a tight U-turn when it came time to leave.
He got out, circling to help Molly if she needed it, which she didn’t. Anna’s kids huddled close to their mother as they stared at his house, eyes wide.
“Somehow I knew you’d have lakefront,” Anna said drily, her hands resting on her children’s shoulders in reassurance.
Feeling defensive, Nate said, “This isn’t as luxurious as some of the waterfront homes in Medina or Hunts Point.”
“You mean, your house isn’t forty thousand square feet, like Bill Gates’s supposedly is?”
“No, it definitely isn’t.” He tried for a little humor. “I don’t want to get lost in the middle of the night trying to find the bathroom.”
Nobody laughed. The funny part, Nate thought, was that, once upon a time, Sonja had wanted to move. Plenty of celebrities called Yarrow Point or Hunts Point home. She liked the idea of living next to a star pitcher for the Mariners or a big shot in the software world. “You could afford it,” she used to complain. Yes, he could, but he liked where he lived, or had until he lost his family. It was just as well he hadn’t let her wear him down, or he’d be rattling around in an even bigger house now.
“Ah...come on in. We’ll give you the grand tour.”
Her kids moved in step with her when they followed. His Mediterranean style house clearly intimidated them, even though he didn’t consider it ostentatious. The cream-colored stucco exterior was accented by a red-tile roof. Broad, double doors in a dark, carved wood gave an aged feel. Inside, light poured through the vast windows looking out on Lake Washington. The decor was simple—hardwood floors, scattered rugs, leather and brocade upholstered furniture, wood furniture mostly cherry in a modified mission style with clean lines. He’d bought some art he liked for the walls, since Sonja had taken what she considered hers. He’d
