Jane nodded.
“How old is he?”
“Almost seven.”
“So... starting second grade?”
“First.” Jane wiped unnecessarily at a spot on the counter, as if disclosing even that much information made her uncomfortable. “His birthday’s in October.”
“How long have you and his father been...” She trailed off deliberately, leaving a space for Jane to define any way she wanted.
“Separated?” Jane asked.
Lauren nodded.
“Forever. He took off right after Aidan was born.”
Lauren winced in sympathy. “Ouch.”
“Yeah. I was stupid.” Jane shrugged. “I’ve always been stupid about men.”
“When I first got here, I thought maybe you and Jack Rossi...” Another pause Lauren wasn’t sure how to fill. A space she hoped would stay empty.
Jane shook her head. “I would never marry a cop. My dad’s a cop. If I ever take a chance on another guy, it won’t be somebody who always puts his job ahead of me.”
Lauren drew a relieved breath. So, no romantic attachment on either side. That was good news.
She should drop the whole subject right there, Lauren thought. She and Jane worked well together, but the other woman had no particular need or reason to trust her. To confide in her. Jane had lived on Dare Island all her life. For all Lauren knew, she could have this great, giant support system of friends to laugh and talk with, to cry and confide in.
Or not. Maybe familiarity carried the same cost as fame. Maybe a small town was like the online community, everybody thinking they knew you, that they had the facts to judge, the right to comment... Hard to sustain friendships when every move was under the microscope. When every neighbor remembered your mistakes. Maybe Jane needed a friend.
Maybe Lauren was ready to be a friend again. “It’s tough,” she said. “Raising a son and running a business on your own.”
“We do all right,” Jane said.
“You do a great job. I’m impressed. When my dad died...” Lauren’s chest tightened.Positive thoughts. But being friends wasn’t about having all the answers or even asking the right questions. Friendship required making yourself vulnerable. Admitting weakness. Opening yourself to the possibility of loss.
Jack’s words glowed inside her.You’re not afraid to get involved. You’re not afraid to get hurt. That takes a kind of courage most people will never have.
“My mom had a lot of trouble coping. I had to leave school to look after things for a while.”
Jane’s smooth face creased in sympathy. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. Shit happens, right? I’m just saying, if you ever need someone to talk to...”
“Thank you.” Jane’s gaze met hers. “I mean that. But it’s not the same. Aidan’s father isn’t dead.”
Lauren leaned against the counter, refusing to be turned away. “Maybe it would be easier if he was.”
A shocked laugh broke from Jane. “Maybe.”
“That guy who came in last week,” Lauren said. “Was that him? Aidan’s dad?”
“Travis is incapable of being anybody’s dad.”
“Oh.” Okay. She hadn’t seen that coming.
Jane slid her a sideways glance. “It’s not what you’re thinking. What I mean is, Travis doesn’t care about Aidan. He never has. Leaving was the best thing he could have done, for Aidan and for me. Anyway, Travis has some job lined up in Florida. He just needs a stake to get down there.”
