74 Seaside Avenue

When he left the office, Troy drove down to South-worth and discovered that the lineup for the ferry was hours long. Too impatient to wait, he drove around instead, which meant crossing the TacomaNarrowsBridge. Traffic was bound to be heavy, but it didn’t matter to Troy. He was going to see Faith. She talked more and more about moving to Cedar Cove, and he encouraged the idea.

For reasons he couldn’t really explain, he was nervous. Earlier that week, when Faith had invited him to dinner, Troy had decided he’d kiss her. Okay, he’d kiss her if he got the signal that she wouldn’t object.

He lost track of time as he drove through the steady but unobstructed traffic and was surprised to find himself at the freeway exit she’d instructed him to take.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up to the curb outside her house—a two-story colonial painted white with green shutters. The porch had two large columns, with a couple of wicker chairs and a glider. The lawn was well cared for and lined with flowering bushes. Sandy had liked flowers, too, and when she’d still been able to, had spent copious amounts of time maintaining their garden.

Troy stood there, staring at the house, when the door opened and she came outside.

“Troy! I’m so glad you’re here.”

He felt the warmth of her welcome all the way from her porch, and yet he remained rooted to the spot. The night before they’d talked for a mere ten minutes, mostly plans for tonight, but now that he was here, he seemed to have nothing more to say.

“Hi.” He shoved one hand in his pocket and once again felt as awkward as a high-school kid. With his other hand he clutched the bottle of sauvignon blanc he’d bought on the advice of a friend.

“Come in, please.” Faith gestured toward the house.

He nodded. His mouth had gone dry and his tongue felt like it was glued to his teeth.

Looking around, he walked up the porch steps and into the entry, thrusting his wine into Faith’s hand. The first thing that caught his eye was the carpeted staircase. Large framed photographs lined the wall going up the stairs—graduation photos of her two children, a couple of formal family shots and a portrait of her husband. He’d since learned that Carl had died of lung cancer, Troy’s gaze didn’t linger on the pictures. Instead, he glanced over at the living room, which was to his right. He could see that it was furnished with a sofa and a couple of matching chairs next to a brick fireplace. A few small tables. Lots of plants. That was where she led him.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked. “I have coffee, tea and soda.” She smiled. “And wine, of course.”

“Not yet, thanks,” he mumbled as he sat on one of the chairs next to the fireplace. A moment of uncomfortable silence followed.

“How was the traffic?”

“Fine.” He was suddenly hot and resisted the urge to unfasten the top button of his shirt.

“I was afraid it’d be bumper-to-bumper the entire way, but it looks like you made good time.”

Troy had no interest in this mundane conversation. “Listen, Faith,” he said abruptly. “I’d best get this over with now.” He stood and paced in front of the fireplace. “My wife was sick for many years.”

“Yes, Troy, I know that.”

“Right.” He was going over ground already covered. “There’s never been anyone else.”

“I’d be shocked if there had been.”

Troy saw that he was making a mess of this. “I’m not eighteen anymore, Faith. I don’t know about…these things.”

She looked at him with such sweet innocence, it was all he could do not to kiss her right then and there. “Just tell me, would you?” he groaned.

“Tell you what?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Oh.”

“I mean, if you’d rather I didn’t, I understand. But I don’t want to spend the whole evening wondering—worrying about it. So tell me now. Either way is fine.”

“Fine.” Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap. “I think it would be perfectly nice if we kissed.”

“Really?” All at once he felt lighter than air.

“Would you like to do it now?” she asked with a faint smile.

“Now?”

“I don’t want you to worry about it through dinner.”

He thought she might be teasing him but he didn’t take offense. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to wait.”

Faith grinned. “As a matter of fact, I’d like to wait, too.”

Then they had a glass of wine, and the conversation flowed as naturally as it always seemed to, everything from high-school reminiscences to the books they happened to be reading.

Because the dinner she’d made when he had to cancel at the last minute had gone more or less to waste, Troy insisted on taking her out. With the help of an online recommendation, he’d made reservations at an upscale waterfront restaurant. The place was small and elegant, with intimate lighting and attentive waiters. Faith raved about the seafood she had, and he had to agree that his salmon, too, was exceptionally good. Afterward they went for a walk along the beach near Alki, removing their shoes and strolling hand-in-hand. He carried his shoes, with his socks stuffed inside, and felt conscious of every sensory detail—the cool, firm sand, the brilliant colors of the setting sun, her enticing floral scent.

“I didn’t know what to think when you got to my house this evening,” Faith told him. “You looked so stern. I had this horrible feeling you’d gone through all that traffic just to come and tell me you didn’t want to see me again.”

“Hardly,” Troy muttered, loving the feel of her so close. Asking permission to kiss her might not have been his smoothest move, but he was glad he’d done it. Now he could concentrate on her and on the anticipation of that kiss.

“Might I remind you that you’ve already broken my heart once,” she said lightly.

“You recovered.”

“So did you.” She paused. “Troy, we both loved our spouses, but they’re gone. I’m so grateful that you and I have this second chance. Grateful and excited.”

“I feel the same way. Grateful, excited and nervous.” He shook his head. “The truth is I’m surprised I didn’t throw up.”

“You? Oh, come on, Troy, you’ve always been so sure of yourself.”

“Yeah, right.”

The wind carried the sound of her laughter and just hearing it made him want to laugh, too.

“I’m knitting a baby blanket for your daughter,” Faith told him. “I hope that isn’t too forward of me.”

“Of course not. I’m sure Megan will be very pleased.” Even as he spoke, Troy instinctively realized that the instant Megan learned the blanket had been knit by a woman he was dating, she’d be upset. Megan needed time before she’d be able to accept Faith, or anyone else for that matter, in his life. Maybe when the baby was born…He considered sharing his concern with Faith, but decided against it. He suddenly wondered how her kids felt about him.

He shook off his thoughts, and together they watched the final moments of sunset. Now. He’d kiss her now. He dropped his shoes on the sand, then gently turned her into his embrace and lowered his mouth to hers. Faith slid her arms around his neck.

This was the first time in more than thirty years that Troy had kissed a woman other than his wife. He found Faith’s lips moist and warm and most wonderful of all, inviting.

When he lifted his mouth from hers, he saw that she was smiling up at him. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” she murmured.

He frowned at her. “Not bad? That’s it?”

“All right, lovely.”

“That’s a little more like it.” Perhaps he should try again, he mused, and without hesitation touched his lips to hers. The same thrilling sensation stole over him. In his opinion, this was a thousand times better than not bad or lovely. It was…he searched for the right word. Incredible came to mind, but Faith had to feel it, too, before he’d risk saying that.

Her eyes were still closed when he raised his head.

“Pretty good,” he said in an offhand manner.

“Pretty good?” Faith echoed. “Pretty good?” Louder this time.

“All right, it was nice.”

“Nice?” She sounded outraged.

“How about incredible?” he suggested.

Her face softened. “That’s what I was thinking.”

“Me, too.” They scooped up their shoes, then he reached for her hand and they headed back to the parking lot. The streetlights had come on, and the usual Friday-night revelers had begun to crowd the beach.

Troy drove Faith home. Just as he had when they were in high school, he walked her to the front door.

“I had a perfect evening,” she whispered. “Absolutely perfect.”

“I did, too,” Troy said. “How about a movie next?” he asked.

“When?”

“Monday?” He had the day off and wanted to see her again as soon as possible.

“Sure,” Faith answered. “Monday’s good.”

“The way Sandy and I used to do it, she’d choose a movie, generally one I wouldn’t have picked myself, and then the next time around, it’d be my turn.”

“That seems fair,” Faith agreed. “So who’ll choose the movie this time, you or me?”

“You.”

“That’s chivalrous of you, but since it was your idea, you should go first.”

“We can compromise. I’ll check the paper and get back to you with some ideas.”

“Okay.”

They still hadn’t decided whether to meet in Seattle or Cedar Cove, but that gave Troy a legitimate excuse to call her later. Not that he really needed an excuse…

They kissed good-night, a brief, comfortable kiss, and Troy left. As he made his way down side streets to the freeway on-ramp, he couldn’t stop smiling.

The freeway traffic remained heavy, thanks no doubt to the holiday weekend. Driving back to Cedar Cove took nearly ninety minutes. As soon as he walked into the dark, silent house, he noticed the flashing red light on his phone. He checked the caller ID function; all four calls had come from his daughter. No surprise there.

It was close to eleven, too late to return Megan’s call. He’d phone her in the morning, when his head would be clearer and he’d be better prepared to answer her questions. He’d tell her enough to satisfy her curiosity for the moment, but he wouldn’t lie.

As he started toward his bedroom, the phone rang again. Apparently Megan wasn’t going to let this rest.

“Yes, Megan,” he said, recognizing the number. Who else would be calling him this late at night? Well, except for work, of course.

“It’s Craig,” his son-in-law said in a flat tone. “I just got back from the hospital.” He hesitated and Troy could hear him taking a deep breath. “Megan lost the baby.”

Troy felt as if he’d had a fist slammed into his belly. The first word out of his mouth was “No.”