The Parent Trap(32)

BY THE END OF THE WEEK, Jon had not had plenty of opportunities to run into Sarah. He hadn’t had any, unless he counted fleeting glimpses of her leaving for work in the morning or returning home at the end of the day. And it wasn’t as if the glimpses were the result of spying on her. They weren’t. But he had been hoping for a face-to-face encounter that looked as though it happened by chance, like the way she’d shown up at the Paolo’s after he went in to pick up pizza, and the way she’d bumped into him at the supermarket. Apparently the only way those things happened by accident was if they really were an accident.

Otherwise he’d had a good week. Classes and soccer practice had gone well. He had finished unpacking and hauled all the flattened cardboard cartons to the recycling depot. Best of all, though, had been his dinner conversations with Kate. Georgette had called several times and while Kate said very little about those chats with her mother, he had the impression they weren’t terribly satisfying. His ex had a tendency to talk about her life rather than delve into anyone else’s, even her daughter’s, but that no longer felt like his problem. For the first time since the divorce he felt as though his relationship with Kate was on a solid footing, and he hoped to keep it that way.

This afternoon she had stayed after school with Casey to help set up for Club Day on Monday, an event that would feature all of the school’s extracurricular activities and give them an opportunity to solicit new members. He had offered to wait and drive the girls home when they were finished, but she had insisted they could walk. Now that she seemed willing to take on some responsibility, she was proving herself worthy of a little independence.

He went into the kitchen, poured himself a cup of coffee and carried it out onto the deck. That morning he’d gone for a run in the dense fog that had blanketed the bay. He’d liked the stillness, the silence intermittently broken by the foghorn from the lighthouse on an island off Shelter Point. By mid-morning the fog had lifted, and now bands of high clouds streaked the sky. The temperature warmed and cooled as clouds periodically obscured the sun, and the breeze off the bay hinted that fall wasn’t far away.

Sarah’s deck was unoccupied. She would still be at her store, and she didn’t seem to spend a lot of time out there anyway. If he had to guess, he’d say she was a bit of a workaholic, although in spite of that she made time for her daughter. Come to think of it, the girls should be here soon, although it would be a while before Sarah came home.

He debated running to the grocery store later on to pick up things for dinner—if he timed it right, he might even run into her there—but this was one of those rare days when he wasn’t inspired to cook. Maybe he and Kate would go out for a meal instead. Besides, the invitation for Sarah and Casey to come over for homemade pizza tomorrow night still stood. The girls could occupy themselves after dinner, and that would give him and Sarah a chance to talk. He was still on the deck, empty coffee mug on the rail in front of him, when he heard Kate come in. He went inside in time to see her toss her bag on the island.

“Hi, Dad.”

He placed his mug in the dishwasher. “Hey, how was your afternoon? Everything all set for Monday?”

“Yeah, it’s all good. We set up tables in the main hallway and helped hang up posters. It was fun, and I found out there’s a photography club. Mr. Balcarres is the sponsor so I’m definitely going to join that.”

“That’s a great idea.” In truth, he couldn’t be happier. After the first week of school, she was fitting in, had made friends, was getting involved. And as always, she looked a little like a photograph herself. In white jeans, short black boots, a long silver-and-white print top and a cropped black jacket, she could have stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. Even her oversize purse was a perfect match for the rest of the outfit. He took a closer look at it and registered the DKNY logo. Kate had a sizable handbag collection but he’d never seen this one before.

“That’s a new bag, isn’t it? Where’d you get it?”

“Oh, yes, right. It is.” She seemed surprised that he noticed. “It came in the mail yesterday. Or maybe by courier. I’m not sure. Mom sent it to me.”

Really? That was out of character for Georgette. She was more inclined to transfer funds into their daughter’s bank account, to which, at his insistence, Kate had restricted access. Ditto the credit card she’d given to Kate and that he had promptly confiscated. Money, that Georgette had no problem throwing around, but her time was closely guarded.

“That was nice of her. I’m surprised you didn’t mention it.”