“You don’t mess around with the little stuff, do you? You are like your dad.” She shook her head. “The answer is, we haven’t talked about it. There are things that have to get settled first.”
“Like what?”
“Well, the first one is, do his sons and I get along.”
Sammy finally looked at her. “Jack will like you just because you have a dog.”
“So you’re the one I have to impress. Good to know.” She smiled at him and got a half-smile back. Progress, she thought.
“Will you spend the weekends with us from now on when we’re with Dad?” He’d turned away from her again.
“No, you guys don’t have a lot of time together so I don’t want to intrude. Although I wondered if you’d like to visit my studio sometime to see the two glassblowers I share space with work. I haven’t said anything to your dad yet because I wanted to see if you were interested first.”
“Dad said you’re an artist.”
“Yup. I work with glass but I don’t blow it. The kind of work I do, you might be interested in doing yourself.” As she went on to describe how she did her work, Sammy finally gave her his full attention.
• • •
It was killing Sam. He was trying to keep his mind on the Frisbee game but he really wanted to know what was going on with Amanda and Sammy. So far, Amanda was doing all the talking and his older son’s face was set in a familiar stubborn expression.
Sammy was a hard sell. Jack had been so young when the divorce happened he barely noticed that his parents didn’t live together any more. Sammy, on the other hand, had been old enough to be hurt and unhappy. He’d made it clear he wanted his parents back together. The first blow to his plans had been his mother’s remarriage. Amanda, Sam knew, would be the last nail in the coffin, consigning his hopes for reconciliation to the flames.
Sam wanted this meeting to work out because he had his own plans. They included things he’d never believed in until recently, like sappy, “happily ever after” movie shit. And then there was this image that flashed through his mind of a little girl with his brown eyes and her caramel-colored curls, sitting in front of him on an Appaloosa, her fingers laced through his as they guided the horse around the corral at the family ranch.
All his plans depended on the woman on the bench. But before he could work on her about the plans, he had to know she and the boys were comfortable with each other.
Suddenly Sammy smiled at Amanda and started talking, his hands moving in explanation of something. Maybe he shouldn’t have worried. She seemed to have charmed Sammy almost as fast as she’d charmed Sammy’s father.
Sam signaled to Jack to wind down the game, and headed toward the bench, his younger son running before him.
Jack raced right to Amanda. “Dad said we could go to your house and have lunch and play with Chihuly some more. Is it really all right?”
She nodded.
“But Sammy has to want to go, too. Say yes, Sammy. Please?” Jack begged.
Amanda stood up. “How about I go clean up after my dog, who seems to have left a little present over there while you three decide?”
“No,” Sammy said. “You don’t have to leave. Going to your house for lunch is okay. And maybe we can go see your studio. Dad, Amanda says if you and Mom are cool with it, she’ll teach us how to cut glass and make things like she does. Can we?”