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Kate coaxed, “It’ll be fun.

      “That can wait,” she insisted, nodding at the brief on Tracy’s desk. “Unless it suddenly grows legs—and if it does, we’ll have bigger problems than just your workload—it’s not going anywhere,” she concluded with finality. Her tone left no room for a rebuttal. Tracy was coming with her even if she had to find a way to carry the woman out of the office and to the restaurant.

      For now, she made a show of tugging on Tracy’s arm, gently but insistently nonetheless.

      With a sigh, Tracy gave in. She supposed that being around pleasant people was preferable to being here by herself. Except for the very low hum of her computer, the office was bathed in silence. Silence allowed memories to pop up, painful memories that were liable to sneak up and ambush her at any time.

      She knew the danger in that. Dwelling on either one of her losses for even a minute tended to devastate her. As long as she outran the memories or banked them down, she was all right. She could function. She desperately needed to function.

      The alternative, sinking into a darkness where grief could eat away at her until there was nothing left, was not an option she was willing to accept. She’d been there once, and once was more than enough.

      “Okay, I guess a girls’ afternoon out does sound pretty good,” Tracy agreed.

      “Great!” Kate declared, already way ahead of her. Coming around to Tracy’s side of the desk, she nimbly pressed a combination of keys to save the document Tracy had been working on, and then shut down the computer. “Done,” she informed Tracy, then hooked her arm through her friend’s the moment Tracy got up from her chair.

      “Knew you’d come around,” Kate told her, doing little to hide the triumphant note in her voice. “Let’s go. I don’t want to keep my mother waiting. Oh, by the way, did I tell you that Nikki and Jewel were going to be there with their mothers, too?”

      It was in the form of a question, but Tracy knew her friend was dispensing information slowly. Tracy could acknowledge Kate was a dynamo in the courtroom and the complete opposite in a private setting.

      “I hope you don’t mind,” Kate added. “My mom and those women have been friends forever. I knew she’d enjoy things more if they were there, too.”

      What was that saying Mom used to say? In for a penny, in for a pound, Tracy recalled. Since it was Mother’s Day, she’d follow the old adage.

      With a nod of her head, Tracy allowed herself to be dragged along.

      Tracy had met Theresa Manetti a couple of times, once at Kate’s wedding, the other at Kullen’s. The woman reminded her a little of her own mother. Consequently, she had taken an instant liking to the intelligent, savvy woman as well as the two women she’d introduced as her “best friends since third grade,” Maizie Sommers and Cecilia Parnell.

      She’d discovered that by combining the three women’s characteristics, she came practically face-to-face with her own mother. She savored the experience for a moment, then refocused herself to enjoy the individual company of each of the women.

      “See,” Kate said as she, Lilli and Tracy all sat down at the extended table, “I told you it was going to be girls’ afternoon out.”

      Theresa laughed shortly. “You’re stretching the word, dear,” she told her daughter. “I haven’t been a girl since the last century.”

      “It’s all in your attitude,” Maizie told her. “Me, I’m never getting old.”

      Theresa suppressed a laugh and asked Cecilia, “What’s the female counterpart to Peter Pan?”

      “Happy,” Tracy chimed in without hesitating.

      Maizie smiled her approval. “I do like the way you think, Tracy.” Picking up the menu, she began to scan it. “So, what looks good?” she asked the others.

      “Offhand, I’d say he does,” Theresa Manetti answered. She wasn’t looking at the menu but at the occupant of a table three tables away.

      Maizie looked up at the dark-haired man her friend was referring to. She pretended to look surprised. In reality, all three of them—she, Cecilia and Theresa—knew exactly where Micah Muldare would be sitting, thanks to prior arrangements with Sheila.

      “You were saying about Peter Pan?” Maizie teased. And then she leaned forward, squinting just a little. “Oh, I think I know the woman he’s with.”

      Now all the women at the table were looking in the direction Theresa was. “A little old for him, isn’t she?” Cecilia asked.

      “That’s his aunt, Sheila Barrett. I sold her a condo a few years ago,” Maizie explained, slanting a glance toward Tracy.

      “Then she’s really a client, not a friend,” Tracy guessed.

      Maizie smiled as she looked at the newcomer. “She’s both.”

      “Mother makes friends easily,” Nikki confided.

      Tracy looked at the table in question. “Cute little boys,” she commented. Her smile was genuine. And wide.

      Maizie nodded in approval. “Yes, they are. He’s doing a wonderful job, raising them by himself, I hear. Of course, Sheila comes by to help out when she can, but there is no real substitute for a mother’s love, is there?”

      The question was directed toward Tracy, but it was her own daughter, as well as Theresa’s and Cecilia’s, who chorused in a singsong voice, “No, Mother, there really isn’t.”

      Maizie only laughed softly. She had a really good feeling about this. There was a definite smile in Tracy’s eyes when she looked at the children. That was very telling in her book.

      Another match would soon be in the offing, she thought with satisfaction.

      It would be only a matter of time.

       Chapter Two

      Maizie waited until she saw Sheila glancing over in the direction of their table, then she raised her hand high and waved at the other woman.

      Seeing her, Sheila smiled and returned the wave. That in turn had Micah’s sons twisting around in their chairs to see who was waving at their great-aunt—a title, when they first heard it, both boys took to mean that their aunt Sheila was really terrific. Delighted, Sheila never bothered to correct them.

      Micah looked over to his oldest son. “Turn around in your seat, Gary.”

      “I am turned around,” the boy told him, confused by the instruction.

      It took a second before Micah realized the communication problem. At five, his son took everything literally, just like his brother. “Turn back around,” he corrected.

      “Oh, okay.” Doing as he was told, Gary turned his face toward the others at his table. He focused his attention on his great-aunt.

      “Do you know those ladies?” Gary asked her solemnly, doing his best to seem every bit as grown

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