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  Logan got the bartender’s attention and asked for the cocktail. The guy looked at Logan like he was speaking a foreign language. “We don’t do those girly drinks here.”

  The last thing I wanted was to create a fuss. I gestured to Logan. “It’s fine. I’ll finish the wine.”

  He looked uncertain. “You sure?”

  Before I could respond, a couple men stepped up to the bar and slapped him across the back. “Logan, great to see you. Heard you were foreman on that municipal job. How’s it going?”

  The three of them got into a lengthy conversation. From what I could make of it, they’d all worked together on another job and hadn’t seen one another for a while. Caught up in the conversation with his friends, Logan seemed to have forgotten I was sitting next to him.

  Ten minutes into their reunion, he suddenly remembered me. He looked apologetic as he gestured toward me and made an introduction. “This is Maureen,” he said, nodding in my direction. “Maureen…” He paused momentarily, seeming to have forgotten my last name.

  “Zelinski,” I supplied.

  “These two are Marv and Ed. We’ve worked together on a number of other jobs.”

  “So I gathered,” I said, and smiled in their direction. They nodded politely at me but sent questioning looks to Logan.

  “She’s with you?” Marv asked.

  “Maureen’s been recommending books for me to read. She works at the library.”

  They burst out laughing. It was as if Logan had delivered the punch line for the funniest joke they’d heard in years. I’d had it. His friends were right on the money. This entire episode was one big joke.

  “Thanks for the wine,” I told Logan, setting the wineglass back on the bar.

  He looked shocked, his mouth sagging open. “You’re leaving?”

  I couldn’t get out of this place fast enough. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten that I was perched on the barstool. Worse, my legs were too short to reach the floor. I pointed my toes toward the ground and attempted to slide off. All I succeeded in doing was yanking my pencil skirt halfway up my thigh.

  Logan’s eyes focused on my leg, and he wasn’t the only one. A couple men leaned over so far to get an eyeful that they nearly fell off their stools.

  “I could use some help here,” I snapped at Logan. I had no interest in providing a striptease for his friends.

  Logan immediately helped me down. He tossed money on the bar and followed me outside, trying to keep up with my ten-minute-mile pace to get as far away from that place as possible.

  “Hey,” Logan shouted after me. “Wait up.”

  Reluctantly, I slowed, and he quickly caught up with me.

  “Did you do that on purpose?” I demanded.

  He looked bewildered. “Do what?”

  “Choose the one place in town where I’d stick out like a polar bear at a beach resort?”

  “No,” he sputtered, taken back.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Fine, don’t believe me.” He rubbed his hand down his face as if at a loss for what to say next.

  “I don’t, and furthermore, I don’t appreciate being the brunt of some joke.” I started walking faster and prayed Logan would let me leave with my pride intact. My prayer went unanswered. His steps matched mine, although he didn’t say anything for the next half-block.

  “Would you like to go someplace else?” he asked, after an uncomfortable few minutes.

  The man couldn’t take a hint. “No.”

  “Some other time, maybe?”

  “No.” I didn’t understand how he could even ask me that. Apparently, he hadn’t had a good enough laugh the first time. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not a good fit.”

  Logan slowed his steps. “I guess this is it.”

  “This is definitely it,” I stated, more than eager to make my escape.

  “You sure?” he asked.

  “More than sure.” The evening couldn’t have gone any worse. I continued on to my bus stop without looking back.

  I barely remember getting on the bus. I took a window seat and leaned my head against the glass as the disappointment and regret flooded me. By agreeing to see Logan, I’d exposed myself, making myself vulnerable.

  I knew both Tori and Jenna would be waiting to hear from me. Reliving the experience was more than I could bear. I reached for my phone to turn it off. Before it shut down, I saw two messages. One was from Tori.

  Have fun. I have a good feeling about tonight. This is a whole new beginning for you.

  Yeah, right, I thought to myself, a good feeling.

  The second message was from Jenna.

  Call me when you get home. I want to hear every single detail.

  I didn’t know what I was going to tell my daughter and my best friend. One thing I was sure of: I would put it off as long as I could.

  CHAPTER 9

  Jenna

  I didn’t hear from Maureen on Friday evening, and when I tried calling her, the call went directly to voicemail. Not a good sign for the first date with Logan.

  I spent the majority of Friday night reviewing my conversation with Allie from the day before. She’d brushed aside my concern. Despite her reassurances that all was well, I couldn’t keep from worrying. It didn’t help that she hadn’t called me when she’d said she would. Before she’d left for college, we’d talked about this very thing, the temptation and risks of drugs and alcohol. I’d been convinced she was smart enough to avoid these pitfalls. What I hadn’t taken into consideration was how hard it was going to be for me to let go. I must have sounded like a helicopter mom when I demanded to know if she made her bed.

  Late Saturday morning I decided to reach out to her, hoping to repair any damage from my frantic call from Thursday.

  Allie didn’t answer.

  I sent her a text. Again, no answer.

  The lack of response immediately concerned me. Was she all right? I was tempted to try calling and texting again, but thankfully, common sense prevailed. I set down my phone, although I couldn’t keep from pacing from room to room.

  When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I called my son, knowing he would give me the pep talk I needed.

  “It’s Mom,” I said the instant he picked up.

  “I know, Mom,” he said, humoring me.

  I could tell I’d woken him. Glancing at the time, I noticed it was after eleven. He’d never been a late sleeper until he’d taken the job at that restaurant. His employer had him working the closing shifts. I didn’t think it was a good idea for him to be taking all these hours. He knew how I felt and had ignored my concerns.

  “What has you all twisted in a knot?” he asked. “You sound upset.”

  “I am upset. I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

  “It’s Allie, right?”

  He knew me far too well. In as few words as possible, I explained the situation with his sister. It didn’t take long for Paul to talk me off the cliff. Before I’d reached out to Paul, I’d had to stop myself from hopping in the car and driving to the university to check on Allie myself.

  Paul listened calmly while I spewed out my worries.

  “You raised Allie,” he said, reasoning with me. “She has her head on straight. Now let go, Mom, and trust her.”

  His words gave me pause.

  Let go.

  Trust.

  No one told me it would be this hard. “But—”

  “Allie’s perfectly fine. My guess is she was out with friends last night and got in late. This is the first time in her life that she isn’t living under a curfew. She’s going to revel in that freedom for the first few months. Let her. She knows what’s important and will settle down soon enough.”

  “You think I’m overreacting?”

  “She hasn’t bee
n at school long. Trust me, if there’s a problem, you’d be the first person she’d call. Relax.”

  Paul was right. As the tension left my shoulders, I exhaled a long sigh. “When did you get so smart?” I asked him.

  He chuckled. “I don’t know that I am,” he said, yawning out the words.

  He sounded beat, the way I did after a long shift at the hospital. “You worked last night, didn’t you? What time did you get to bed?”

  “Late.”

  I noticed he didn’t mention how late. “I don’t want this job interfering with your studies,” I reminded him, using restraint. I understood that the tips were good and that the job helped pay for his books and extracurricular activities. He was studying for an engineering degree, the same as my father. This job shouldn’t take him away from what was important—his studies.

  “Don’t worry,” he insisted. “I’m good.” This was followed by another lengthy yawn.

  I wasn’t convinced.

  I was taking Paul’s advice when it came to trusting his sister, so I hesitated before calling him to task. He was three years older than Allie and had basically been on his own for two years now.

  I’ll admit I felt better after expressing my concerns to Paul. I was grateful for his level head.

  CHAPTER 10

  Allie

  “What?” Allie groaned into her phone as she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Her head throbbed, and she pressed her hand against her forehead.

  “Hey, is that any way to greet your big brother?”

  “Paul,” she said with a groan, “why are you calling so early?”

  “It’s noon.”

  “Already?” Allie grumbled.

  “You hung over?”

  “Do you have to speak so loudly?” She tried to sit up but got an immediate headache and fell back against her pillow. “A little.” It was more like a lot, only she wasn’t willing to admit it. She’d been out until dawn with Mackensie and had had Jell-O shots as well as beer. They’d laughed and flirted the night away. It’d been the most fun she could ever remember having. She didn’t need to report to anyone, didn’t need to be home and in bed by midnight. Her mother, God love her, had been a stickler about that curfew. It was ridiculous. Allie wasn’t a child, although her mother continued to treat her like one.

  “You’re freaking Mom out,” Paul scolded, sounding very much like the big brother.

  “Why?” Her mother didn’t have a clue what she’d been doing the night before, which was a good thing.

  “She called and texted you, and you didn’t answer.”

  “Mom tried calling me?” And Allie had been so out of it that she hadn’t heard the phone. “Then she called you when I didn’t answer.” It was just like her mom to overreact and turn to Paul for help. He had been her go-to person for every little problem. Her brother who could do no wrong. When Allie hadn’t picked up the phone, naturally her mother would have gone all freaky.

  “If you don’t want her showing up at your dorm room, then I’d suggest you call her back.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. I’m not a child,” she protested, and then grimaced at the sound of her own voice.

  Paul was the peacemaker in the family and he sounded calm and reassuring. He asked about her night and then advised her what to say to calm their mother.

  “Who was that?” Mackensie asked, after the call ended. She’d spent the night in Allie’s room, as Kristen was gone for the weekend.

  “My brother.”

  “Is he cute?”

  “Not to me. He’s a dork, but he is my brother. Girls think he’s hot. I don’t. He called to let me know my mother has gone ballistic. She tried to reach me earlier, and when I didn’t answer, she freaked and called my brother.”

  “What’s the deal?” Mackensie sounded puzzled.

  Allie was mortified and embarrassed, but she tried to downplay it. “It’s just my mom. She’s like this. She always needs to know where I am and who I’m with and what time I’ll be home. I thought it would be different when I left for college, but apparently it isn’t.”

  Mackensie sat up in bed and brushed her thick, sandy blond hair off her face. She looked pale and her eyes were red-rimmed.

  “Did we do anything stupid last night?” Allie asked, hardly able to remember what happened after the third shot.

  “Define stupid.”

  Allie was afraid of that. “Did I stand on top of a table and toss my bra into the crowd?” She vaguely remembered that happening and wasn’t entirely convinced she wasn’t the one going braless.

  “No, that was Heather.”

  Heather? Allie couldn’t remember meeting a Heather, but she was relieved it wasn’t her.

  “Paul suggested I call Mom and play it all down the same way I did about the frat party.” Two parties over three days. No one told her college was going to be this much fun.

  “Best get it over with now,” Mackensie suggested. “It will only get worse if you put it off.”

  This all seemed ridiculous to Allie. “Is your mother like this?”

  “No. Thank God. She’s cool with whatever I do.”

  Allie was jealous. If only her mother would let loose and give her the space she needed. All the talk about letting Allie become her own woman. It meant nothing if her mother was going to constantly be on her case.

  CHAPTER 11

  Jenna

  While I waited to hear back from Allie, I cleaned the house and put in a load of laundry before I headed off to visit my mother. On my way over, I took a detour and drove to Maureen’s house. She still wasn’t answering her phone, which concerned me. Given time, I figured she’d resurface sooner or later. When she did, I had the feeling there would be copious amounts of tea involved. Maureen and I always drank tea when we unburdened ourselves to each other.

  Like the time when I learned Kyle was having what I thought was his first affair. We’d gone through two pots as I wept my eyes out. Only later did I discover that my husband had been unfaithful almost from the moment the preacher declared us husband and wife. I ended up forgiving him for that one affair, determined to save our marriage. When I learned of the second affair, it had devastated me. Maureen was the first person I’d gone to, even before I told my parents.

  Another pot was poured when Maureen had her split with Peter, although it’d been an amicable divorce. I hadn’t known there was such a thing. It was an oxymoron as far as I was concerned, seeing how bitter my own divorce had been. Both Maureen and Peter had been civil about their separation. Peter had been a disappointment as a husband, but he was a decent father, unlike Kyle.

  Maureen didn’t appear to be home, so I drove on to Mom’s house to check on her garden. By the time I headed to see her at Parkview, the backseat of my car was loaded down with tomatoes and zucchini. The hospital staff would gratefully take them, and what they didn’t I’d donate to the local food bank.

  The afternoon was lovely, and there were two or three patients in wheelchairs sitting in the sunshine on the patio on the east side of the building. The front porch had a sitting area, and I was pleasantly surprised to see Rowan Lancaster on an outside bench.

  I didn’t know if he was at the facility to visit my mother or if he had other patients there. He was looking down at his phone again, his face a dark mask. It was the same look he’d had the evening I’d seen him in the hospital cafeteria. I wasn’t sure if I should approach him, but then he looked up and saw me. His face slowly relaxed as he set down his phone.

  “So, we meet again,” I greeted him, glad to get the chance to talk with him. He’d been caring and encouraging with Mom. He’d gone above and beyond what she’d needed. His attentiveness to the surgery and her aftercare couldn’t be questioned, but to my frustration, his personal life remained a mystery.

  “I have some tomatoes from Mom’
s garden with me.” I motioned toward my car in the parking lot. “Would you like some? I know Mom would want you to take however many you’d like.”

  “No zucchini?” he asked, appearing to tease me about my chattiness the night of Mom’s surgery.

  “As many as you’d like,” I responded, trying to hide a smile.

  He grinned and shook his head. “Thanks anyway. I don’t cook much.”

  “Okay.” I started to leave when my phone rang. I’d been expecting to hear from Allie and wasn’t about to miss the call. I turned away to answer.

  Sure enough, it was my daughter. Before she could say more than two words, I blurted out, “How late were you out last night? Why didn’t you answer my call?” I demanded, forgetting Paul’s advice.

  “Mom, please,” she said, with what sounded like a grimace. “Don’t yell.”

  “I’m not yelling.” I wasn’t. My voice was raised but I wasn’t yelling, although I felt like giving her the third degree.

  “You are yelling, and my head hurts, so please stop.”

  Closing my eyes, I inwardly groaned. I knew what that meant. “You’ve got a hangover?” This was too much. I needed to sit down. It felt like my knees had lost their strength.

  “It’s not a hangover,” Allie insisted. “Everyone in college drinks.”

  Not my perfect daughter.

  “Everyone?” I cried. “I don’t think so, Allie.” I bit my tongue, afraid if I came down too hard on her we’d end up arguing. “You were careful, I hope?” She knew what I meant. I’d heard too many horror stories of young women raped after being slipped a roofie. Or considering themselves invincible and choosing not to go to and from parties with a group. Working at a hospital was not the best environment for a worrying mother, because I’d dealt with far too many tragedies.