It kept her from staring at his arm.
“I’m Katy Garner and this is my son, Jake. I’m very sorry for, um, stomping on your foot and being…rude.”
His eyes narrowed, as if he had another word for her behavior. But he didn’t say it. Instead, he crossed his arms and leaned on the doorjamb.
“Royce McIntyre. Apology accepted.”
Katy hesitated. What now? He’d accepted her apology. But what about the pain she’d caused? Could she really erase it with an apology?”
“Thanks for the Rice Krispies Treats,” Jake said. “They were really good.”
“No problem.”
Jake grinned his big, toothy grin. “You’re the first adult who’s ever gotten my message.”
The man shrugged. “Simple Morse code.”
“Yeah, but nobody else seems to get it.”
Katy interrupted their mutual appreciation. “I guess I overreacted when you shoved your foot in the door. There’ve been some break-ins in the area lately. I’m still a little uncomfortable with the way you met my son. Jake isn’t normally allowed to talk to strangers.”
“Hey, he’s the one who initiated contact. And how could I know for sure he was a kid?”
“Ask?”
He opened his mouth, then shut it. Shrugging, there was a hint of humor in his eyes. “I guess there’s that. I’m not very up on approaching kids, which should come as a great relief to you. Now that you mention it, I see your point about caution.” His eyes narrowed. “And yet you allow him to be home alone?”
Katy swallowed hard at the thought of Jake being alone and all the things that could have happened. They’d been fortunate that Royce McIntyre, on second inspection, seemed fairly decent.
Blinking back her frustration, Katy longed for the good old days when situations like this hadn’t been a problem. The days when her friend, Karen, had lived across the hall and could pinch-hit during emergencies. But Karen had moved in with her boyfriend across town, leaving a void not easily filled, both as a friend and a backup system.
“We had a communication problem with the sitter and he was alone part of the afternoon this week. I assure you it won’t happen again. Thank you for, um, entertaining him.”
“Turns out I needed to be entertained, too.” He pushed away from the jamb and extended his right hand. “Thanks, Jake. You really had me going.”
Jake shook his hand, his eyes as big as silver dollars when they traveled to his left arm. “Were you hurt in the war?”
The man stiffened. “No. A mining accident.”
“Jake, that’s not a nice thing to ask.” Katy’s face warmed. As if the man needed to be reminded of what had to be a traumatic event. From the looks of the tender, pink skin at his wrist, it had been recent trauma. “I’m sorry if he put you on the spot. And I’m sorry I wasn’t…more welcoming.”
“He has an honest curiosity. Nothing wrong with that. It’s better than being ignored…or worse.”
Like being stomped on and having the door slammed in his face.
There had to be a way to make this better. To somehow undo the hurt she’d caused. Katy shifted, uncomfortable with the solution that came to mind. “Do you like cheese enchiladas?”
He hesitated.
“It’s not a trick question. A simple yes or no will do.”
His lips twitched. “Yeah, I do.”
“Good. I’m making a batch and there’s way too much for just two people. I can bring down a…”
The wariness was back in his eyes. As if he thought she was too uncomfortable with his injury to sit across a dinner table from him. How could she tell the man it had nothing to do with him?
“It’s okay. I’m good.” He started to close the door.
Katy took a deep breath. She had to get past this. If not for her own sake, then for Jake’s. She didn’t want him to grow up being afraid of every shadow. Cautious yes, afraid no.
She stuck her foot in the gap. “Please come to dinner tonight?”
“It’s okay. Really.”
“No, it’s not okay.” She managed a small smile. “Please allow me to do this. We’ll eat in, say, forty-five minutes?”
“Goodbye.” He nudged her shoe out of the opening with his toe and quietly closed the door.
Was that a yes or a no? She’d assume yes.
“Good. We’ll see you in forty-five minutes,” she called through the closed door.
ROYCE PAUSED OUTSIDE the Garners’ place, a bottle of wine cradled on his left arm.
What in the hell was he doing here?
He was tempted to return to his apartment. Nobody had to ever know he’d been here.
But what would he do? Eat another bowl of cold cereal? Then maybe leave another voice mail for Michael? The thought left him feeling so hollow, he knocked on the door before he could change his mind.
The door opened almost instantly.
“Hi, Royce. C’mon in.” Jake’s hair was plastered damply against his head.
A pang of regret made Royce hesitate. Michael had adopted a similar hairstyle at about the same age. And now his son was a grown man, forging a career in stock-car racing, too busy to return calls from his old man. Or too alienated.
Royce was acutely aware of the passage of time. Funny, but when he’d worked out of the country, he’d sometimes felt as if the rest of the world went on hold until he got back. Children shouldn’t grow, parents shouldn’t age, ex-wives shouldn’t remarry.
Royce suppressed the thought as he followed Jake inside.
Katy hurried into the room, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.
“Right on time.” There was relief in her voice, but her smile was strained.
He handed her the bottle of wine. “I, um, figured it might be okay with enchiladas. But if you don’t drink, that’s okay, I won’t be offended.”
“This looks perfect. I’ll get wineglasses and you can pour, if that’s okay?”
Royce almost broke out into a cold sweat until he remembered the bottle had a twist- off top. By bracing the bottle between his left arm and chest, he could manage. A corkscrew might have required more dexterity than he could currently claim.
Jake watched, his dark eyes solemn. Finally, he asked, “Does it hurt?”
Royce
