My One and Only(88)

There he was, just disappearing around a display of cheerful dolls all dressed in purple leotards.

“Mommy!” said a little girl. “I can see that man’s—”

“OMG!” I shouted as loudly as I could. “Justin Bieber is right outside! I just saw Justin Bieber!”

The air split with high-pitched squealing, and suddenly, several dozen girls stampeded for the door. I dodged, twisted, got a little trampled, but then again, I just saved about a hundred girls from learning far too much about the aging male anatomy. Dodging shrieking females, I ran to where Mr. Lowery had disappeared. Coco barked as I passed a tired-looking security guard (who obviously wasn’t all that good at her job!). “No dogs in the store, ma’am,” she said wearily.

“Yeah, and no na**d old men, either, but that’s what you have, so let’s shake it, okay?” I called over my shoulder. There was an escalator in front of me, a hallway to my right. I hesitated, then charged up the escalator, and there he was, right in front of gift wrapping. His thin white hair was disheveled, his shoes filthy. The young woman behind the counter apparently couldn’t see that he had nothing on below the waist except Nikes, because she asked very sweetly, “And what can I do for you today, sir?”

“Mr. Lowery?” I said. He didn’t turn my way. The security guard arrived, panting a bit. “Can you get him something to wear?” I whispered.

“Like what? Felicity’s nightgown?” she muttered. “My shift ended two minutes ago.”

“Be helpful,” I said. “Random act of kindness, okay?” I cleared my throat. “Mr. Lowery? Ted?”

He turned, and my heart broke a little.

“Hi,” I said. “How are you? Haven’t seen you for a while.” I smiled past the lump in my throat. He didn’t much resemble the man I once knew, that smug, confident schmoozer who neglected his firstborn son. No. This man was confused, lost and old before his time.

“Do I know you?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’m your son’s wife,” I said.

“Jason? Jason’s married?” He frowned.

“No. Not yet. I’m Nick’s wife. Harper. Remember?”

“Nick?”

“Yes. Your son Nick. Your oldest boy.” I smiled again and approached slowly—after all, this guy had been dodging NYPD all day, and I didn’t want him cavorting through the store, flashing little girls.

“Oh, yes. I have boys. Sons.”

“Good guys, too. Handsome like their dad, right?”

He smiled at that, and I saw a hint of the man he’d once been. “That’s a nice dog,” he said, reaching out to pet Coco. Bless her noble heart, she licked his hand and wagged, and Mr. Lowery smiled. “Can I hold him?” he asked.

“Sure. But she’s a girl.”

“I only have sons,” he said.

The guard came back with a blanket. “Best we could do,” she said, much less grumpily.

“I’m gonna call Nick, okay, Mr. Lowery? He’s been on a trip, and he’s dying to see you,” I said.

The man who was once my father-in-law looked up at me and grinned, the ghost of his old personality flitting across his face. “Call me Ted.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

THREE HOURS LATER, I was alone in the very comfortable sitting room of the Roosevelt Center, Coco snoring on my lap. She was happy—she ate a cheeseburger as big as she was, then morphed into a therapy dog, charming the residents with her tricks of paw-raising and leaping straight up and down. Nick had been busy getting his father settled, then had to go off with the director to fill out forms, receive apologies, inspect the alarm system and God knew what else.

I sighed, bone-weary. It was hard to believe today had begun with Nick and me in bed together, somewhere in the heartland. Yesterday (yesterday!), I’d seen my mother. Less than a week ago, my sister had gotten married. My father was getting divorced, and God only knew what would happen to BeverLee.

I thought of my little house in Menemsha, of sitting on the deck with Kim and a glass of wine, the sound of the water splashing against the hulls of the fishing boats, the wind shushing in the long grass. It seemed like a lifetime since I’d been home.

Apparently, those thoughts were just too much to be wrangled with, because I dozed off. Next thing I knew, Nick was kneeling in front of me. “Hey,” he said with a smile.

“Hi,” I answered, lurching upright. “How’s your dad?”

“Sleeping. He’s doing okay. He was a little dehydrated, but otherwise, fine.” He looked at me, and the clock seemed to stop. “You were great today, Harper,” he said. Then he put his head in my lap and closed his eyes, and a wave of love washed over me so big and strong it took my breath away.

“Well, chasing after pantsless men has always been a hobby of mine,” I whispered. “There’s a website for us. PantslessMenLovers.com.” I stroked Nick’s hair, and as always, the glints of silver in the dark brown gave me a pang. Who took care of Nick? I wondered. He looked after everyone else…Christopher, Willa, his father…and, for this past week, me. Well, for tonight, anyway, I’d take care of him.

“You ready to go home, big guy?” I asked.

Nick looked up, his eyes crinkling. “Yeah. As fun as it’s been, I’m ready for this day to be over.”