The Perfect Match (Blue Heron #2)(114)

“Gosh. Thanks.”

“But then you broke up, and you were done with him. So yeah, I made a move. I mean, single men don’t exactly grow on trees around here. And imagine my surprise when it seemed to work.” Another tear plopped onto the table. “Men like to sleep with me, Honor. But men love you.”

Honor snorted.

“Look at Tom. Right? He comes to town and boom. He falls for you.”

“It’s not exactly working out for us,” she murmured.

“Whatever. There’s not a guy here who doesn’t respect you and like you and think you’re smart. That doesn’t happen with me. Brogan was one of the few who seemed to want more than sex. But you’re right. I was afraid that the more time he spent with me, the less he’d like me, because that seems to be the way it goes. So I made up a baby, figured I’d get pregnant fast. I didn’t think beyond that.”

“I thought you didn’t want kids.”

“With him I did. Never thought I’d say those words.” She wiped her eyes discreetly.

All of a sudden, Honor wanted to be truly done. For way too long, Brogan had been a huge part of her life, bigger than even he knew. And for the past few months, Dana had been, too.

It was time to end that.

“Listen, Dana,” she said. “It was the wrong move, obviously. So own it, take responsibility for it and see where that gets you. I think Brogan really loves you. I don’t know why, but he seems to. If you tell him what you just told me, I think you might have a shot.”

Dana looked up, her green eyes watery. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna go now, okay? Top Ten Tumors is on.”

Dana gave a snort of laughter, then grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry, Honor. I really am.”

“It’s really okay. Don’t think about it anymore. And good luck with Brogan.”

Strange, that she meant it.

“Honor?” Dana said. “Listen...I called Immigration on you. A while ago. I just wondered if you were marrying Tom because of a green card thing, and...well. I hope it didn’t screw things up.”

Ah. Mystery solved. “No. It wasn’t that.”

As she fished her keys out of her purse, she looked over to where Tom had been, but he was gone.

* * *

ON SATURDAY, HONOR decided to take a bike ride, because that’s what people who had weekends did.

May was so beautiful, the fruit trees blossoming in the small orchard the family still kept. There was Goggy, hanging out wash, waving as Honor rode past the Old House. Tomorrow, hopefully, she’d sneak some crap to the dump—Pops’s newspaper horde was taking on terrifying proportion, but that was tomorrow. Today was all about exercise and fresh air.

“We will be cheerful,” she told Spike, who was nestled in the handlebar basket on a fleece blanket. “We are cheerful people, Ratty.” Spike yipped in agreement. She loved bike rides.

Dogwood and crabapple trees were in full glory as she pedaled up Lake View Road to where the hill flattened out. She passed Bobby McIntosh mowing his lawn, and the smell of cut grass made her smile. Life was good. It wasn’t entirely complete, but it was a happy life. This beautiful town, the job she loved, her family, her faithful little doggy...it was enough. For now, it was enough. More would come in its own time.

After a few miles, she pulled into a shallow parking area at the foot of the Keuka hiking trail, pushed down the kickstand and clipped Spike’s leash on. “Come on, baby, let’s take a walk.”

Birds hopped and twittered in the trees, and Honor could hear the rush of water from a nearby stream. The sun was warm, the breeze gusted.

There was a bench up ahead, and a lovely view of the Crooked Lake. A familiar figure was sitting there, clad all in black. Spike went crazy, pulling on the leash, barking away.

“Charlie?”

The boy turned, then jerked his gaze back to the view.

“Hi. How’s it going?” she asked, sitting next to him. Spike jumped up on the bench and wagged.

Charlie said nothing, but he extended his hand so Spike could sniff it, making the little dog whine in joy.

“Are you back for a visit?” she asked, wondering if Tom knew. God, it would mean the world to him if Charlie had come to see him.

“I’m back for good,” Charlie mumbled. He picked at a hole in his jeans.

Oh, crap. She’d never met Charlie’s father, but she had the sudden urge to throttle him. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Why? So my dad couldn’t make it work. Big deal. It doesn’t mean anything. What’s it to you?”

“Does Tom know you’re back?” she asked carefully.

He shrugged.

“Have you called him?”

“No, okay? Jeesh! Leave me alone.”

“You should call him, Charlie. He cares a lot about you.”

“I don’t care! I don’t care about Tom, okay?” Spike barked madly. “He’s not my father. I never asked him for anything! I didn’t want to learn how to box! I never asked him for that. He treats me like an idiot baby with those stupid model airplanes and presents, like he can buy me! Like I can’t tell that he hates me!”

Yark! Yark! Yark! “Spike, be quiet,” Honor ordered, scooping up the dog. The dog obeyed. She looked at Charlie and squinted. Teenagers. Attitude. Yawn. “So you’re not a baby?” she said.