A lump rose in Lucy’s throat. Wasn’t that what she wanted, had always been looking for?
“What about going about it the old-fashioned way?” she asked after a moment.
Juliet shook her head. “I don’t have time for relationships. Do you know how long it would take to meet someone, decide if he’sright for me, work our way towards settling down, marriage, the whole thing?”
“How long?” Lucy asked with a little smile, and Juliet shook her head again, more firmly this time.
“I’m not cut out for romantic relationships. I’m going to do this my way. Alone.”
“So you’re going to go ahead with the assessment? The sperm donor?”
Uncertainty flashed across Juliet’s features, making her look vulnerable and surprisingly young. “I don’t know. I still hate not knowing my father. I’d rather be able to tell my child who his or her father is, even if he’s not involved, but . . .” She trailed off, shrugging.
It sounded to Lucy like a potential minefield of hurt and disappointment, the kind they’d both experienced in different ways. “Single parenting seems tough to me, Juliet,” she said. “I was talking to Alex and—”
“Oh, were you? Getting cozy with Alex?”
“Not cozy,” she said. “Friendly. Maybe.”
Juliet’s gaze narrowed. “What do you mean,maybe?”
“We’ve had one dinner, and he asked me to teach an art class to the older pupils. Satisfied?”
“Not really.” Juliet emptied her mug into the sink. “Be careful, Lucy.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are a lot of people involved who could get hurt if you and Alex start something. And I’m not just talking about you.”
“Of course not,” Lucy answered dryly, but Juliet steamrollered over her.
“You’re leaving in a little less than three months. Alex has two girls who are in a vulnerable place.”
“I know that, Juliet.” She was in a vulnerable place too. She didn’t need Juliet telling her what a bad idea being interested in Alex Kincaid was, never mind actually starting something.
“If they became attached to you—”
“Trust me, you’re not saying anything I haven’t already thought myself,” Lucy said. “We’re just friends,” she said.“Maybe.”
“That’s for the best, I think,” Juliet answered, and even though she knew her half sister was probably right, Lucy wasn’t sure she could agree.
Chapter Eighteen
Juliet
“And now if anyone has any more points of business . . .”
Louise Walker, the chair of Hartley-by-the-Sea’s parish council, looked up from the minutes of their meeting, eyebrows raised expectantly.
“None for me,” Rob Telford stated, his legs stretched out in front of him. The eight other people round the table echoed him one by one, starting with Peter Lanford, who sat next to him, hands resting on his jeans-clad thighs, his voice a low rumble.
“Juliet?”
Juliet blinked and saw Louise was gazing at her with an expectation that bordered on annoyance. Like Juliet, Louise liked these meetings to be short and sweet. She had four children and three Patterdale terriers at home, and she was on half a dozen committees. The woman was practically a machine of efficiency.
“Nothing from me,” Juliet said hurriedly, and glanced away again, trying not to fidget.
Ever since she’d told Lucy about wanting a baby, she’d been determined to do something about it. Telling her sister had made the desire both more real and more dangerous; if she didn’t do anything, she would look and feel pathetic. Evenworse, nothing would change. And if there was one good thing Lucy had done for her, it was make her realize she needed to change.
