The Parent Trap(81)

“That’s a lot of thinking.” She laughed again. “But yes, I’d say they’ve turned into a pair of matchmakers.”

“I think you’re right.”

“We’ll have to talk to them, explain that this isn’t the solution to this particular problem.”

“Unless—” he blurted, then immediately wished he hadn’t. This was the wrong time to stop thinking.

“Unless what?” She stopped, reining in the dog, turning to face him.

“It’s not the worst idea.” It was infinitely better than trolling for a wife online.

“It’s a terrible idea! We hardly know each other. You really don’t know me at all if you believe I would go into court and lie to a judge.”

Lie? That hadn’t crossed his mind. “What if it was the truth?”

“Oh, please. We just met a few weeks ago. You can’t honestly expect me to believe that you think you’re in—” She stopped herself.

In love with her? He knew he was, and it was stab-a-knife-in-his-heart apparent that the feeling wasn’t even close to being mutual.

“We’d be teaching our daughters that if they want something badly enough, it’s okay to do whatever it takes to get it. What kind of example is that?”

A terrible one, and if she believed that about him, then she didn’t know him very well, either. He wouldn’t lie to a judge any more than she would, but neither did he plan to wear his heart on his sleeve. Whatever feelings she might have for him, he had completely misread them.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “We should go back.”

The walk home was brisk and made in stony silence.

“I guess I’ll see you,” he said.

“Good night.” She picked up Petey, carried him inside and closed the door on what he had seen as his last hope.



SARAH CLIMBED OUT of bed the next morning with an aching head and a sick heart. Had she overreacted? Maybe, but to what? The idea that they pose as a couple? Or had he implied something else?

What if it was the truth?

Yes, she had feelings for him and there was no denying them, but not the let’s-tell-a-judge-we’re-heading-to-the-altar kind of feelings. Yes, after falling asleep on his shoulder a few nights ago, she could safely say they were more than friends, but it was too soon to know how much more. She knew too well that rushing into a relationship ended in disaster, and now there was even more at stake. It wasn’t just the two of them who needed to be sure. Their daughters had to want it, too, and not just so they could continue to be best friends who lived next door to each other. They had to want to be a family.

She avoided her office, determined not to let herself check to see if Jonathan went running that morning, and went straight down to the kitchen instead. By the time her daughter straggled in, she had brewed a pot of coffee, taken Petey out to the backyard—they would have to have the yard fenced if he stayed—poured glasses of orange juice, and had waffles standing in the toaster and waiting to be heated.

Casey, ponytail swinging and already dressed for school in her usual jeans and high-tops, plunked her books on the counter next to the plate and cutlery Sarah had set out for her. Instead of a T-shirt she was wearing a soft blue V-neck sweater that Sarah had bought for her last spring but that had not yet been worn, and her lashes looked a little darker than usual.

Interesting.

“Did you finish your science report last night?”

“Uh, yes, we did.”

“Good for you. Can I have a look at it?”

Casey had a sudden and intense interest in the empty plate in front of her. “I left it at Kate’s. We’re going to hand it in together.”

“I see.” She knew she had to say something about last night, and about the girls’ apparent expectation that their parents would pair up and win the day in court. The direct approach had always worked for her, and this was no different.

“I know you want Kate to stay here with her dad. I want that, too—we all do—but you have to accept that it’s up to the judge to decide.”

“But that’s so not fair. Kate should be the one to decide, not some stodgy old man who doesn’t even know her.”

Sarah didn’t altogether disagree. “Not all judges are old and stodgy,” she said instead, attempting to inject some levity into the conversation.

Casey was not amused. “You know what I mean.”

“Of course I do, and I also need you to know that it’s not up to me to fix this.”

“What do you mean?” Casey asked, attempting to appear innocent.

Nice try. “I mean that Kate’s dad and I know what the two of you are trying to do and I have to tell you, it’s not going to work. Jonathan and I just met and we haven’t had time to get to know each other.”