Clearing her throat with purpose and determination, she entered the family room and said, "Hello."
Sam looked at her, his light blue eyes filled with annoyance. "You're early," he said. "You said seven-thirty, and it's only six. Megan and I were planning to have a pizza."
"I'm sorry." She knew his frustration covered pain. Sam might not miss her at all, but he did miss his daughter.
"This is our time together," Sam reminded her.
"I know." Alli tried not to feel anything for the man, but his physical presence had always overwhelmed her. A rugged, outdoor man, Sam had sun-streaked brown hair that was always windswept, never styled. His face was perpetually sunburned. His body was lean and fit, his fingers and palms callused from working his boats. She could still remember the way his fingers felt drifting down the side of her cheeks, her breasts…
She drew in a quick breath and looked out the window at the storm clouds about to descend on Tucker's Landing, one of the small seaside towns along the southern Oregon coast. Although it was late June, the weather was still unpredictable, and on days like today, summer seemed far away.
"It's starting to rain," she said. "The forecast said maybe an inch or more. I didn't want to get caught in the storm. You know I hate to drive in the rain."
Sam tightened his hold on Megan, as if Alli were attempting to steal his dearest possession. But she wasn't a thief; she was Megan's mother. Turning her attention to Megan, Alli could see that her daughter felt torn between them. Megan's blue eyes were worried, her mouth slightly pouty as she chewed nervously on the end of her braid. The last thing Alli wanted to do was make Megan feel like a wishbone, but sometimes it seemed impossible to avoid. They both loved Megan so very much.
"I'll bring her home at seven-thirty," Sam said.
"That's in an hour and a half."
"Exactly. And it's my hour and a half."
She sighed. "Come on, Sam. It's been a long day."
"Maybe Mommy could have pizza with us," Megan suggested. She put her small hands on Sam's face so he couldn't look away from her and gazed at him with bright, eager blue eyes. "Please."
Sam's mouth set into a hard line. "I suppose. If she wants to."
Megan looked at Alli, drilling her with the same relentless gaze.
Alli hesitated, knowing the last thing Sam wanted her to do was stick around. But she hated to disappoint Megan over something so small.
"I could stay, I guess." She glanced at Sam. "Are you sure it's all right with you?"#p#分页标题#e#
"Does it matter?" He didn't look her in the eye. Sometimes she thought he went out of his way to avoid looking at her. Maybe she did the same thing. It was easier to keep the distance between them.
Sam gently urged Megan out of his lap and rose to his feet. "I'll call Nina's. The usual?"
Why was it always the simple words, the familiar memories that hurt the most? "The usual," she agreed.
Sam walked over to the desk and picked up the phone. While he dialed the number for the pizza parlor, Megan handed Alli the high school yearbook.
"Daddy showed me your picture," Megan said. "You were really pretty, Mommy."
Alli stared down at her sophomore photograph. She'd been trying to grow her hair out, to be more like Tessa. But where her sister's thick, wavy blond hair grew like a weed, Alli's own copper-colored cap never quite made it past her shoulders, and was so thin and fine it almost seemed to disappear. Once, a very long time ago, Sam had told her that her hair was like silk, and she'd thought, foolishly of course, that he'd found something about her that he liked better than Tessa.
Alli slammed the book shut. Megan looked at her in surprise.
"What's wrong, Mommy?"
"Nothing." She forced a smile on her face. "What did you do today?"
"We waxed the hot rod."
"Of course," Alli said. Because next to his business, waxing his 1955 red Thunderbird was Sam's favorite pastime. She wouldn't have minded so much if the damn car hadn't been just another reminder of Sam and Tessa. In her mind's eye she could still see the two of them tooling around town in it.
"Do you want to see it?" Megan asked.
"The car?" Alli asked in confusion.
"No, the thing I made you. Weren't you listening, Mommy?"
"I'd love to, honey."
"I'll get it." Megan ran out of the room, and Alli walked over to the bookcase and stuck the yearbook in a dark corner where she hoped it wouldn't be discovered for another decade.
As her gaze traveled around the familiar room, she realized that Sam had done some cleaning, made some changes since he'd moved back into his family home and his parents had retired to Arizona. His father's pipe no longer sat in the ashtray on the desk. The three-foot-high pile of fishing magazines had been tossed in a large open box along with some other knickknacks—obviously destined for storage.