Angel's Peak (Virgin River #10)(73)

Maureen sipped her wine and saw that it was nearly gone. “I think maybe you know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m a physician’s assistant. I see patients our age in all manner of menopausal dilemma. Some have come into a sexual rebirth and are wearing their husbands out, others miss their former libido and want help to find it again. Still others wish their husbands would just leave them alone. Because I’m a female PA, they talk to me more often than the male PAs or doctors, and I’ve made a lot of referrals to female gynecologists who can relate to these patients. I’m not speaking from just my own dating experience, which has been relatively slim over the years.” Vivian glanced at Maureen’s glass. “Let me give you just a half glass more since we’re in for the night.”

“Good idea,” Maureen said, extending the glass. “Because I have a few questions. And some of my good friends from way back call me Mo.”

“Really? You don’t look like a Mo at all. I can’t wait to hear the questions.”

“Why don’t we start with, how can a man of any age be attracted to a woman whose na**d br**sts hang down to her lap? Good God, that’s a reasonable question!”

“He’s probably wondering how a woman of any age can overlook that flat butt or potbelly. But do you know what men are most self-conscious about? Their hair! They get all freaked out by thinning hair!”

By the time Sean and Franci dropped by to pick up their sleeping daughter, Vivian and Maureen were sitting on the floor in front of the fire with steaming cups of hot chocolate, whipped cream piled high on top, laughing like a couple of high-school girls, looking guilty as hell.

Thirteen

Sean had been spending every night at Franci’s house and Franci was comfortable with it, having been convinced Rosie wasn’t going to be traumatized by the two of them sleeping in the same bed. In fact, Rosie seemed to like sleeping between the two of them.

While Franci and Rosie were at their respective schools, Sean usually spent some time helping Luke out at the cabins, or he ran errands, or he did chores around Franci’s little house. It was his mission to make sure her house was in complete repair before he went back to Beale right after Thanksgiving. If he ended up going remote, Luke would look after her.

“I managed fine as a single woman,” Franci told him. “I know how to call a repairman if I need one.”

“It’s just as easy to call my brother,” Sean said. “Not only is Luke cheaper, he’d be offended if you didn’t.”

On this particular Sunday night Franci had work to do; she had a couple of demanding classes on Monday because it was nearing end of term. So Sean took over bath and bedtime duties with Rosie while Franci sat on her bed with her laptop balanced on her knees, perfecting her lesson plan.

Once Sean had Rosie in the tub, they sang what Rosie called the soap song: “If I were a little bar of soap, I’d go slippy slippy slidey over everybody’s hidey…” It had many verses and Sean now knew them all. Then it was off to bed to read Rosie’s favorite book: Everyone Poops. When Rosie was all settled, Sean gave Luke a call.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Sean asked.

“Are you kidding?” Luke said. “Shelby’s already asleep. She feels like shit.”

“Again?” Sean asked. “Jeez, what’s the deal?”

“You haven’t guessed? She doesn’t want to tell anyone yet, but she’s pregnant.”

“Luke!” came Shelby’s loud, strident voice out of the background.

“It’s just Sean!” Luke yelled back. “I thought you were asleep!”

Sean chuckled into the phone. “Well, kind of seems like you two don’t have to try real hard to reproduce. You might want to keep an eye on that.”

“No kidding. Don’t tell Mom yet. Shelby wants to get past a couple of months. Even though she hurls every morning and falls asleep by seven every night, she wants to be sure.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Sean said. “I’ll see you tomorrow after I drop Rosie at preschool.”

Then he puttered around the house for a while, quietly, not even turning on the TV in the living room because Franci was working. He took out the trash, leafed through the newspaper again, brushed Harry’s hair off the sofa, enjoyed domestic balance and tranquility. He checked on Rosie; she was sound asleep with her little bird mouth open. When he watched her sleep, he always thought, She’s mine! And while a few weeks ago that idea had terrified him, now it filled him with wonder. With awe. She was a miracle he just didn’t deserve.

He left Franci alone until about nine o’clock, then he dished up a bowl of vanilla ice cream and took it to her. “Can you take a break?” he asked.

“I can be all done,” she said, closing the laptop. “This for me?” she asked, reaching for the ice cream.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re working out very well. I like having a good-looking manservant around the house.”

He got a pained look on his face. “I’m not going to be around the house much longer, baby. But I’ll call every day, and anytime I’m not flying or have more than one day off in a row, I’ll be here.”

She touched his cheek. “Don’t worry about us, Sean. We’ll be okay. I think of this as temporary. Once you know what the air force has in store for you next, we’ll come up with some more permanent plans.”