“UCLA? That’s where I went too!” She was excited at the coincidence at first, then a little embarrassed. “Well for a year, before I got engaged and left.”
“That’s too bad,” Wesley said, “that you didn’t finish up, I mean, not that you got married.”
“Oh.” She laughed. “I know, I should have stayed, but you know what it’s like… or maybe you don’t. Everything felt so urgent, like I had to hurry up and do all the things—get married, have children—as if the world wouldn’t wait for me.”
Wesley nodded, but Milly was sure he had no idea what that was like; the world waited for men like him.
“Well, you’ve got some great kids here, Mrs. Kincaid.”
“Please, call me Milly. Mrs. Kincaid makes me sound so old.”
“All right, Miss Milly,” he said grinning.
“Now I sound like a schoolteacher,” she laughed.
“Well, if I should call you Milly, then please call me Wes—that’s what all my friends call me. Every time I hear Wesley I think of my grandfather. Probably because I’m named after him, but still…”
“You’re the one who introduced yourself as Wesley,” Milly said, smiling.
“I wanted you to think I was respectable.”
“You seem respectable to me, Wes,” Milly said.
He smiled and held her gaze until she looked away, blushing a little.
“Thank you so much for the cookies,” he said after a moment. “And for the meatballs last night. We didn’t pay you enough for that kind of generosity.”
“I like to cook when I know someone will appreciate it. It’s actually very satisfying.”
“Well, good, we do appreciate it.” He took a swig of his beer.
Jack ran up to the table and swiped another cookie. “That’s your last one,” Milly said as he ran off again. She watched them play for a while. Wes got up to help Jack with his swing and almost got hit in the face a second time.
“I should probably take them inside before you lose an eye,” she said to Wes, though she didn’t really want to. She was enjoying sitting out in her yard with the warm afternoon sun on her shoulders, and she was enjoying his easy company. “I have to start thinking about dinner.”
“Yeah,” Wes said. “And I’d better wake up these guys, otherwise they’ll sleep all day.”
“Yes, yes,” Milly said. “You do that.” She turned to Jack and Debbie. “Come along, you two, let’s go.”
“Can we have pancakes tonight?” Debbie asked, running to Milly’s side and taking her hand.
Milly thought about it for a minute. Lloyd wasn’t coming home for a week; she and the kids could eat whatever they wanted. And she loved the idea of not making another trip to the market. “Why not?” Milly said. “I love pancakes for dinner.”
Later that evening Sylvia knocked hard on Milly’s door.
“Can I come in?” she asked, as Milly swung the door open, sensing an emergency.
“Of course. Is everything all right?”
“Yes, absolutely fine,” Sylvia said, flashing one of her beaming smiles, but Milly saw a strain in her face.
“Can I get you something to drink? A glass of wine? A gin and tonic?”
“No, thank you.” Sylvia said. “Do you have a smoke?”
“I doubt it,” Milly said, digging through her kitchen drawers. “I thought you didn’t like them?”
“I don’t, usually. But desperate times…”
