The Trouble with Angels (Angels Everywhere #2)(40)

"Great idea,” Karen said, "and while you’re talking to my mom you might say a few words about letting people know where she’s going.”

"I might,” Thom agreed, then whispered for Maureen’s benefit, "but don’t worry, I won’t.”

He led the way into the house. The coffee was already brewed, and he poured them each a cup. The girls had mysteriously disappeared.

"About Friday night,” Thom said, bracing his lean hip against the kitchen counter. Maureen was sitting down, more shaken from the episode of being lost and found than she cared to admit.

"Friday night?”

"The telephone call from your ex-husband.”

"What about it?” she asked defensively.

"I think we should talk about it.”

"I don’t.” Maureen had no intention of rehashing the unpleasant encounter with Brain, especially not with Thom.

"Not what was said between you and your ex, but what happened to us after the call. We were just getting to the point where we could communicate, really communicate.”

That wasn’t the way Maureen remembered it. As she recalled, it wasn’t talking they’d been involved in when the phone rang.

"Nothing happened, nor will it again,” she announced in her firmest voice. She’d made a mistake by lowering her guard once with this man, and he’d taken quick advantage. She had no intention of repeating the error.

"You’re wrong,” Thom said gently. "Something did happen. Something very good. It’s unfortunate that it ended when it did.”

"Unfortunate” wasn’t the word she’d use. Brian’s call was a blatant reminder of her past mistakes. She would never allow another man to hurt her the way Brain had.

Thom set aside his mug, walked over to the table, and straddled a chair. He folded his arms over the back and smiled at her. "Don’t look so worried, I’m a patient man. I’ve been waiting a long time for you. I can wait a little longer for you to trust me.”

Waiting a long time for you. Maureen lowered her gaze, afraid of what he might read in her eyes. "Why me?”

It took him a moment to compose his thoughts. "That first afternoon when we talked on the phone, I realized you were as lonely as I was. We both had daughters about the same age. We’d both walked the floors, fretted, and worried if we were doing a good enough job as single parents.” He flexed his hands as if searching for something just outside of his reach. "There was a sadness in you. I’ve known that, too. I realize you don’t want to discuss your marriage. Not yet. I’m hoping that sometime in the future you’ll change your mind. When you do, I’ll be here, ready to listen.”

"Stop,” she pleaded on a ragged whisper. "Please.”

"Dad,” Paula called, and an instant later burst into the kitchen with Karen. The two girls smiled knowingly at each other.

"See, what did I tell you?” Karen said with a grin as broad as the Grand Canyon. "He’s about to kiss her again, and my mom’s going to let him.”

Paul glanced around the dinner table at his two children and the mates they’d chosen. His son-in-law, Eric, was a fine young man. And the more Paul was around Annie, the more he liked the woman who would soon be his son’s wife.

"Pass the potatoes,” Joe said to his sister, who made it seem as if the bowl were much too heavy for her to lift. It was a game from their childhood days. Bethany loved to tease her brother about the amount of mashed potatoes he managed to consume.

"Dad, is that dinky little tree the only one you’re going to put up this year?” The question came from his daughter.

"I’m too busy to deal with Christmas.”

Paul noted the way his son and daughter exchanged glances. He didn’t know what he’d said to give them pause, other than the truth. "I’ve got better things to do than fuss with a Christmas tree,” he reiterated. "It surprises me the way you kids are making such a commotion about my decorating the house for the holidays.”

"Mom—”

"It was different when your mother was alive,” Paul agreed smoothly.

"But the house looks so drab,” Bethany said. "What about the ceramic angels Mom used to set out?”

"And the snowmen I made in Boy Scouts years ago? Remember the ones made of huge balls of cotton?” Joe added.

Both his children were regarding him expectantly. "All the Christmas decorations are in the attic,” Paul told them. He certainly had no intention of getting them down himself.

"Great. We’ll decorate the house for you,” Bethany said eagerly, sounding like a five-year-old all over again. "And after Christmas Eric and I will come back, take everything down, and put it away for you.”

Paul wanted to tell his children not to bother, but it seemed so important to them. "All right,” he agreed reluctantly. "If that’s what you want.”

"We do.” Somehow it seemed to Paul that his son-in-law didn’t look all that excited with the project—and Paul didn’t blame him.

By the time they’d finished dragging down the boxes from the attic, Paul felt as if his world had been invaded by four monsters. Bethany and Eric strung lights around the living-room windows and set the three brightly colored angels on the windowsill, peering out into the dark night.