chewed on that some as they walked the brief route home, where families—the typical, nuclear variety—dotted their path like land mines.
Passing a gray bungalow, both she and Liberty raised their hands to wave to the Scotts, a family of five that included three kids, a mother and a father, all of whom could be found outside playing or working together on even the poorest excuse for a nice day. Farther ahead were the Michaelsons—two toddlers, working mom, stay-at-home dad who liked to construct temporary forts out of fallen branches and twigs. Like their neighbors, they were determinedly finding things to do outside, relishing the early spring weather before the next spate of April showers.
Outwardly, Eden kept smiling. Secretly she couldn’t wait to get home, where she could hole up inside the rest of the night and ignore all the happy three-, four- and fivesomes.
Portland was truly a family town. Several years back it had been touted as one of the ten best cities in the country in which to raise children. That made it a great place to pursue her work as a childbirth coach. A terrific place to have and raise Liam. It was less terrific when she didn’t want to be reminded that Liam might someday think she’d shortchanged him by bringing him into the world without a daddy.
And sometimes when she lay in bed—not at night, but in the morning—and listened to the twitter of birds and the sound of her son’s breathing, she wished for someone to turn to, to whisper with, to plan the day.
She glanced down as Liam’s head bobbed against her chest. The motion of walking lulled him into his evening snooze. Gently, she stroked the hair around his ears. You’re the only guy for me from now on, little man. Still, it would be nice to be part of a larger community.
“I read about a woman in Florida who started a cooperative housing development,” she said contemplatively to Liberty. “The intention is to bring foster kids together with people who want to adopt or at least mentor children. The housing is available to people of all ages. You can even eat together in a common dining hall.”
Liberty eyed her doubtfully. “It sounds like a dorm.”
Eden laughed. “No, really, co-op communities sound like nice places. Most have common areas for the kids to play together. Some even do cooperative babysitting and there’s a deliberate effort to make the communities multigenerational, which is great for the kids.” She ran her fingers over Liam’s soft dark curls, so different from her wavy blond hair. “It would be nice to think he’s with people who feel like…”
“Like family without the need for therapeutic intervention?”
This time Eden’s laughter rang out down the street. “You are such a cynic.”
“Mmm.”
They reached their block of smaller Portland style bungalows, and Liberty stepped up her pace. “I’ve got major studying to do. I’m going to head to First Cup for something very tall, very strong and very iced. You want?”
“Nope.” Eden hadn’t done caffeine since the stick turned pink, and she didn’t particularly need more calories tonight. She nodded to Liam. “If the master of the house sleeps a little longer, I just might look up the co-op projects in Portland.”
“Have at it. Just don’t expect me to move with you. I like my privacy.”
Both women stopped talking when they reached their house. Parked in front was a sleek black Cadillac coupe. An impatient-looking man leaned indolently against the dry-rot-damaged porch rail Eden kept promising herself she would fix. Dark glasses hid his eyes.
“Speaking of tall and strong,” Liberty murmured.
Eden shook her head. What was he doing here? She stared at LJ Logan, only assuming he stared back from behind the expensive-looking shades.
“You left out icy,” she said.
“What?” Liberty gazed toward the porch unabashedly. By choice, she didn’t date, but she wasn’t shy.
“That’s LJ Logan.” Eden spoke out the side of her mouth, keeping her voice low. “Very tall, probably strong, and could freeze water with his tongue.”
“That’s the guy you tangled with?”
“Yeah.”
Liberty gave an exaggerated wag of her dark head. “El es muy guapo.”
“Cut it out,” Eden whispered, trying not to move her lips. “For all we know he speaks Spanish.”
“Ooh. Then he might—just might—be worth dating.”
Ignoring her roommate, Eden slowly approached her porch, curious but warier than a cat in a dog run. Portland General Hospital, which housed the Children’s Connection, was located across the river, at least thirty to forty minutes from her neighborhood if there was any traffic at all.
“You’re a long way from the west side,” she said to LJ when she was close enough to speak softly over Liam’s head and still be heard.
“Ain’t it the truth?” A smile spread slowly across LJ’s face, softening the bored rich-man expression. He nodded at Liberty. “Evening. I see you’ve been enjoying the good weather.” Still without moving off the porch or even uncrossing his arms, he focused on the baby sleeping against Eden’s chest. “And this must be the teether you mentioned. He looks happy now.”
Liberty joined Eden, standing near her shoulder. “He doesn’t seem icy,” she cracked sotto voce. More loudly, she said, “Well, we’ve just come back from a picnic. I’ve got to put the leftovers in the fridge.”
Jogging lightly up the steps, she stopped alongside LJ, who straightened away from the porch rail and extended his hand.
“LJ Logan,” he said, by way of introduction, “one of Ms. Carter’s coworkers. And you are?”
“Libertad Sanchez.” Liberty laid on the Spanish accent, which she could turn on and off as easily as she worked a faucet. “Roommate,” she added. “Also in-house natural foods chef and the voice of Eden’s conscience. I have a fruit-sweetened berry crisp in the kitchen, and you’re welcome to try it as long as you didn’t come here to rake Eden over the coals. She already feels terrible for dissing you in your business meeting.”
“Liberty!”
Without a glance at Eden, Liberty gave LJ a sexy smile and a shrug. “I tried. You two play nice. Try to set a good example for the baby.”
She disappeared into the house. More slowly than her friend, Eden walked up the steps. She looked Mr. Logan straight in the sunglasses.
“I did not ‘dis’ you. I stated my opinion calmly and courteously.”
He cocked his head. “Where are you from?”
“Pardon me?”
“I’m trying to place your accent. It comes and goes. Right now it’s a little thick, so I’m guessing that you’ve worked hard to eradicate it, but when you’re tense it comes back.”
Eden, who liked to think she had total control over the accent she had indeed tried to eradicate, frowned at him unhappily. “Mr. Logan, it’s after work hours
