“That’s stupid. You look great, Sam. And ten years is no big deal; it’s not like he’s a teenager. He’s thirty-two, right?”
At Sam’s nod, Rob continued. “So he’s a grown man. There’s something else, isn’t there? What’s really bothering you?”
“You’re good, Rob. How could you tell?”
Chuckling, Rob propped his feet up on the coffee table. “I got little kids who don’t want Daddy to yell at them, so they hide when they do stuff. Plus.” His expression sobered. “I was your partner for two years. I knew you; I held your life in my hands every day we were out on the street. So what’s wrong?”
It all spilled out of him; the doctor’s appointment, the recurring pain in his chest, and the feeling that he was failing Zach. And the fear, like ashes in his mouth.
“I don’t want Zach to find out ’cause he’ll sit and worry about me all the time, but I almost feel like I’m cheating on him by not telling him.” Sam paused and took a sip of the beer Rob had brought over.
“Don’t do it—don’t shut him out; that’s fucking stupid. You gotta tell him. If I ever kept something like that from Cindy, she’d tie my balls in a knot.”
As if on cue, keys rattled at the front door, and Rob jumped up, showing no sign of lingering pain or aftereffects from the shooting. “There’s Cindy now. We’ll have some pie, and then you gotta go home and tell Zach, Sam. If you don’t, you’re asking for trouble; I’m warning you.”
The door opened, and Rob hurried over to help Cindy with the bags. Sam stood and watched Rob and Cindy interact. He loved being part of a couple; part of his depression after retirement was losing not only his work partner but his life partner at the same time.
“Sam, it’s so good to see you again.” He accepted her hugs, thinking again how amazing she was to be so kind to him in spite of him almost getting her husband killed. Sam wasn’t so sure he’d be as forgiving.
Discreetly wiping tears, Cindy tugged his hand. “Now come sit down and have some pie and ice cream.” Her warm, sherry-brown eyes softened as she studied his face. “We’ve missed you.”
He followed her to the kitchen where all his dietary good intentions vanished. How could he be expected to watch his weight when he was being sabotaged at every turn? Joining Cindy and Rob at the table, Sam vowed after this piece of pie and ice cream, which Cindy placed in front of him, he’d be more careful.
*
“There’s no needto look as though you’re going to an execution. It’s only dinner.” Sam met Zach’s gaze in the bedroom mirror as he buttoned up a clean shirt.
Zach might have agreed to the get-together, but he obviously hadn’t had a change of heart concerning his mother’s dinner date. He knew Cheryl and didn’t think she’d be attracted to someone who wasn’t like herself—kind, generous, and devoted to family.
Grimacing, Zach shifted his gaze and spoke to the floor. “I know you think I’m foolish and acting immature, but something doesn’t sit right with me about someone who gets so serious so fast.”
At Sam’s pointed gaze, Zach turned red. “Okay, yeah, I know we weren’t any different, but—”
“Uh-uh. No buts. Now let’s go and meet this guy and be nice. Okay?”
“All right, all right. I promise.” Zach peered in the mirror and swiped at his hair. “I’m ready. Let’s go meet Mr. Wonderful.”
The Italian restaurant was only a few short blocks away, and the wind was their friend tonight, having died down considerably from its afternoon hijinks of blowing everything in its path. Still, Sam’s cheeks were cold against the frosty air, and he was glad for the all-encompassing warmth of the restaurant. He spotted Cheryl sitting with a man in a cozy corner and squeezed Zach’s arm.
“There they are. Remember: be nice.”
After throwing Sam an irritated glare, Zach approached his mother’s table.
“Hi, Mom. Hope you weren’t waiting long.”
He bent and gave her a kiss, then faced Matt. “I’m Zach. Nice to meet you, finally.”
The two men shook hands, and Sam watched them sizing each other up. At about sixty years old, Matt was five years older than Cheryl. His build was solid but not doughy, and Sam instinctively knew he worked hard at his appearance. His gaze was clear and steady, and his smile seemed genuine.
With a start Sam realized he was observing Matt as he would a suspect when he’d been a police officer on duty. Old habits died hard, but Sam needed to stop treating strangers like someone under suspicion for committing a crime. Besides, nothing in Matt’s behavior indicated anything other than a man seeking to please his date and be friendly with her only child—an only child who’d become as overprotective of his mother as she’d once been of him. Because Sam had so many years of studying people’s behavior, he immediately sensed that though Cheryl liked Matt, he wasn’t ever going to replace Zach’s father in her life.
“I’m Sam.” Matt gave him a somewhat less tense smile, and Sam felt a little sorry for the guy.
“Shall we start off with some wine?” Matt handed the list to Zach. “Why don’t you choose, Zach?”
Sam could’ve laughed out loud at Zach’s startled expression. Whereas Zach had come to dinner prepared to dislike the man, Matt, perhaps suspecting it, chose to disarm him right from the start by being so openly friendly it would make Zach look silly and selfish to respond any way other than the same.
“Uh, sure.” He glanced down at the menu for a moment, and Sam caught him smiling.
