“But I want to spend time with you.”
“I’ll be there.”
“I meant alone.”
“I don’t want the girls to think I’m taking you away from them.”
“This isn’t at all what I’d planned,” I grumbled.
She’d grinned. “Maybe you need to work on becoming more flexible.”
Flexible. Huh. I’d been plenty flexible all day, trying not to peerdown Hope’s shirt or stare at her shapely tush as she bent over to dig. I felt like a perv, lusting after her in full view of two kids, a dog, and an elderly lady.
The fact was, I’d expected things to move in a new direction tonight—a direction involving lots of skin-on-skin contact, although the logistics were vague. In the back of my mind, I thought that if things got hot and heavy, we might head to the Hampton Inn in Covington for a few hours. Instead, here we were, chastely separated by two sharp-eyed chaperones.
“You have very nice manners, girls,” Hope said. “I’m impressed with the way you’re sitting up straight and remembering to keep your arms off the table.”
I was impressed, too—at the way Hope had managed to find what was probably the first moment all evening that both girls had their arms off the table. I liked the way she caught them behaving well and encouraged it.
Both small spines immediately straightened. “My mother always said good manners were important,” Zoey announced.
My heart gave a little wrench. Zoey hadn’t been old enough to remember anything Christine had said—had she? She’d probably gotten that information from Peggy or Jillian.
“You’d make a nice mommy,” Sophie told Hope.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Hope said with a smile.
“So why aren’t you one?” Zoey asked.
“Well, for starters, I’m not married.”
“But you were. Aunt Jillian said you were married, and then you got divorced.” She said the word in almost a whisper, as if it were naughty.
Hope took a sip of water. “Yes. Yes, I was.”
“Divorce is bad,” Zoey said.
“Well—it’s nothing anyone ever wants to happen,” Hope said, before I could even frame a response. “And it’s certainly sad.”
“What’s divorce?” Sophie asked.
“It’s when people break their wedding promise,” Zoey told her.
“It’s more complicated than that,” I said irritably.
“Jillian said people divorce when they quit loving each other,” Zoey said.
Sophie’s blue eyes grew round and wet. “Can daddies divorce their children?”
My heart felt tight and hard as a basketball. “No. Never.”
“But if grown-ups divorce...”
“Honey.” I scooted back my chair and pulled Sophie onto my lap. “I could never, ever stop loving you or Zoey.”
“So why aren’t you a mommy?” Sophie said to Hope. “You were married, and married people are supposed to have kids.”
“Not all married people are fortunate enough to have kids,” I said.
