Yours, Mine & Ours

Chapter Eight

When Mike pulled into the driveway around two o’clock, Teddy’s mood shifted from cranky and whiny to ecstatic. His four-year-old hadn’t appreciated his first visit to the dentist, even though they’d done a fast-food lunch and a romp in the park afterward.

“It still hurts, Dad,” Teddy whined, as he unsnapped his seat belt. But then he saw the tractor. That was the last Mike heard about the dentist. Now it was all, “Oh, wow, oh, wow, oh, wow!”

Mike may have climbed from the pickup more slowly, but his son’s oh-wow opinion echoed his own. Certainly he’d never seen the behemoth of a lawn mower parked in his front yard before.

“We don’t climb on equipment that isn’t ours, Teddy,” he admonished. But hey, he couldn’t resist doing a leisurely stroll around the thing, giving it a thump and pat and an admiring general look-see. Slugger ambled out of the dog door to greet them-well, mostly to greet Teddy. The hound hadn’t appreciated having his man parts clipped at the vet’s, and he was still letting Mike know about it. Still, all three boys slowly circled the machine with equal reverence.

“Is it ours, Dad?”

“No.”

“Why not? If it’s in our yard? Whose is it?”

“I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure I can make a good guess.”

“Maybe I could just sit in the seat for a second.”

“Maybe we never do that without the permission of the owner.”

Mike wanted to shake his head. Not at his son. At the mower. It was a John Deere. A beauty. One of the X700 series. Forty-eight-inch mower deck. Color-coded buttons, cruise control, CD player, four-wheel steering.

It was the kind of riding mower that a landscaping company owned. Or maybe a golf course. Not that Mike knew much about tractors, but he was pretty sure this one checked in at several thousand. No one-that is, no one normal-would buy such a thing for a regular-size yard that he could imagine. So that was the first clue to its owner.

The second clue was that his yard had been mowed. It would recover, of course. Grass always grew back.

The third clue was when he figured out why it was sitting in his yard. It had run out of diesel.

Add it all up, and Mike glanced next door…only to see Amanda bouncing into her drive. She pelted out of the car, popped the lid on the trunk. “Hi, guys!” she called out. “I’ll get the mower out of there! Would you believe it? I ran out of fuel! So I had to run to the gas station, but I’ve got it, I’ve got it-”

“Miss Amanda? Can I sit on it? Can I?”

“Yes, honey-but only if your dad or I’m there. Okay? No one else can give you permission but us.”

“Okay. I love you,” Teddy mentioned, and that was the end of his talking to her. Amanda kind of stopped dead when he said the word love, but instead of looking at his son, her eyes shot straight up to his.

Mike’s response was identical. To make eye contact that instant. It was one of those rare mind-meld moments. As if they were the only two people in the universe who realized there was an avalanche big enough to destroy them all. Maybe no one else saw it. But they did. Maybe no one else had a clue. But they did.

All morning he’d tried to reassure himself that he wasn’t falling. It should have helped that she’d been as unreasonable as a shrew with PMS that morning. But it hadn’t.

After a morning of major plumbing messes, apparently lawn mowing, then running out of diesel, Amanda was still Amanda. Her scoop-neck top had grass stains; her shorts looked almost wrinkled…but they matched. Pale blue and dark blue. Her hair hadn’t seen a brush in a while, which meant it was like copper on fire in the sunlight, pretty wild…but she still had on lip gloss, cute sandals, earrings.

She almost fell under the weight of the diesel can, but she managed to pluck it out of the trunk, her smile fifty times more powerful than a kilowatt. “You don’t have to thank me,” she chattered on. “I owed you, for all the stuff you’ve done for me. I was totally happy to find something I could do the other way around! I just didn’t realize how much fuel it would take to mow both yards. Or how much fuel they put in to start with. And it took me a little while to figure out how to run it. I’ve never mowed grass before! Would you believe it?!”

He believed it. It just didn’t seem wise to agree with her, much less while she was still struggling with the fuel container. “You want me to do that for you?”

“No, no sweat, I can do it!”

“Amanda.”

“Huh?”

He tried to make his voice sound light and conversational and delicate-although possibly he was incapable of managing “delicate.” “Who sold you this mower?”

“Oh. The hardware store. The guy was wonderful. Seriously. Gave me exactly what I asked for.”

He aimed for the same ultralight tone. “And you asked for…?”

“I told him that I only wanted to buy one mower in a lifetime, so for sure I didn’t want junk. And I wanted one with power, because I’m not particularly physically strong. I wanted quality, serious dependability, nothing that I’d have trouble servicing…”

Okay, he was beginning to see how she’d gotten in so much trouble. She’d asked good questions. She’d just asked the wrong salesperson. “Did he ask you what size yard you have?”

“Sure. But it’s not as if I had the exact dimensions. I just told him straight. Big.” She shot him another grin, as she finished feeding diesel into the mower and screwed the top back on. Suddenly, though, her smile faded. “Why all the questions? Do you think I made a bad choice?”

She’d made a terrible choice. It wasn’t just the money, but that it was way too much machine for what she needed. But suddenly that wasn’t the point. Her breathtaking smile had completely disappeared now, and in its place was a look of uncertainty…fragility.

In a flash, he realized he’d seen that look of raw uncertainty before. This morning. In between moments when she’d more or less been chewing him up, no matter what he said. Still. There’d been glimpses of That Look.

He remembered her saying more than once that she’d been raised as a spoiled, sheltered princess.

But he hadn’t added it up before. How much she’d been life-crippled by her background, and how much that bothered her. The basic practical information most people knew, she just plain didn’t. Common sense wasn’t common, not the way she was raised. And she was trying. Watching her with the plunger and the “Dare To Repair” book that morning…watching her in the hardware store, picking out tools, painting on her own, and yeah, now, diving into the mechanics of lawn mowing and mowers.

“What?” she said impatiently. “You think I didn’t pick the right machine?”

“I think you’re brilliant. That you picked the best.”

The shoulders eased. The smile went back to being shiny and disarming…and sexy. “Well. I know I didn’t know what I was doing. But I tried to ask the right questions-”

“You’re going to be the envy of the neighborhood.”

“I don’t care about that. But I can do this. My lawn. Your lawn. That kind of maintenance. There’s no reason I should have to ask for help. Or hire it out.”

He didn’t look back at the butcher job. And if anyone else made a remark to her, well, he’d just have to kill them.

As if suddenly realizing he wasn’t the center of attention, Teddy edged forward and said to Amanda, “Guess what? I went to the dentist this morning. For the first time in my whole life. The dentist let me squirt the water. It was really cool.”

Mike stared at his son, astonished at Teddy’s volunteering such a creative version of this morning’s events. But then, men seemed genetically programmed to reinvent certain events or truths, if it meant impressing a female they cared about.

Damn. It was getting harder and harder to deny it. It wasn’t just his son who cared. Mike was sinking in deeper and thicker than quicksand. He just didn’t know what to do about it.

Clouds bunched in fists. Thunder grumbled, bringing on another session of wild, slashing rain. Amanda glanced next door as she raced to the car.

She’d barely seen Mike in the past two weeks, except in passing.

They waved when they saw each other. One morning, Teddy had popped in to ask for a couple of eggs. One afternoon, she’d sent Molly next door with a fresh strawberry-rhubarb pie.

She’d mowed his lawn. He’d sent over quotes for electric fences.

She’d sent a response to his fence quotes. One night, Thom had stopped by-to fight about custody, naturally-and she’d stepped out on the deck so Molly wouldn’t hear the heated words. Across the way, she’d seen Mike choose that time to put a foot up on his deck-he was ostensibly holding a bottle of beer, but she had no doubt he’d have charged over if Thom had gotten out of hand.

She was invisibly watching over him, too. For instance, she’d bandaged Teddy’s knee when she’d seen his son take a tumble on the concrete drive.

They were taking care of each other-and avoiding each other at the same time. That couldn’t go on forever, obviously, but as far as Amanda could tell, they were both being smart. Why stroll in woods that was filled with poison ivy?

She turned the windshield wipers on full, glanced at her GPS, tried to take her mind off Mike. Her father had kidnapped Molly for a day at the Fields Museum, so storms or no storms, she needed to take advantage of the free time. June was sneaking into July. She’d already researched preschools and pediatricians, but she wanted to do an eyes-on before committing to either for sure.

Ten minutes later, she parked in front of Denise and Dan’s Play School-and got half soaked just running the few steps from the car. Sandals squeaking, hat dripping, she opened the shiny red door. Naturally she’d called ahead to tour the facility. Dan-the dad of the D &D team-was waiting for her. His easy smile was the first thing that won her over. Everything about him-and the place-radiated a love and understanding for little ones.

She loved what she saw. There was a music room, a plant room, a “critter” room-a place where live animals were either borrowed or housed, from aquariums to turtles and spiders and hamsters. The last door on the right was clearly an art room, where smocks hung on hooks, and the walls were exuberantly finger painted.

The bathrooms were spotless, the facilities all miniature-sized-yet there were also high shelves that stocked underpants and other emergency replacement clothing in a variety of sizes. A central room included a locked refrigerator, where milk and fruits were stored. Available snacks were listed, fruits, nut bars, no cookies allowed except for special occasions.

A gigantic bathtub, near a window, was piled high with pillows and blankets. “Not for naps,” Dan explained. “But kids sometimes get stomachaches. Or just want to curl up and have some quiet time. When a four-year-old gets out of control, our philosophy is…of course, to remove them from the situation and give them a chance to control themselves. But before we make that into a penalty, we try the curl-up in the tub thing. Most of the time, a child wants to get under control. They just don’t know how yet. So…”

He opened the front door for her, still talking. Outside, rain still sluiced down, turning green leaves emerald and putting a sting of freshness in the air. She reached in her jacket pocket for her hat, still listening to Dan, but trying to hurry along now. “So you need me to let you know within the next couple of weeks.”

“That would be best. We’re almost booked up now-”

“Well, it’s yes, I can tell you right now. I’d have brought the checkbook if I’d known for sure what a terrific facility you have.”

She turned around, stepped down, and…wham. Another burst of thunder and lightning startled her-not coming from the skies, but from Mike.

He was headed up at the same time she was headed down. Their eyes met, and there it was, the chemistry of the century. Even with her hair frizzing up and her face washed of makeup, she felt conscious of her breasts, her pelvis. Her skin, the beat in her throat.

The preschool owner was still talking, as if he had no clue Armageddon was taking place on his school steps. Mike smiled, slow and easy, but he was still taking a lazy sip of how she looked, and she was drinking in his damp hair and sassy eyes and long, lanky frame just as zealously.

Naturally, she got a grip. “You’re checking out the preschool?”

“Yeah. Been making the rounds all morning.”

She gave him a thumbs-up, to show him her vote on the facility, but Dan immediately engaged him in conversation, so she had every excuse to continue on her way.

There, she thought. Both of them had managed that beautifully. Easy. Comfortable with each other-but neither risking a step closer to harm’s way.

Maybe Amanda wasn’t strong, but she was getting stronger. Maybe she hadn’t learned self-confidence yet, but she was getting there, too. She was coping. She was making a life. She was being the best mom she knew how to be.

She just had to refrain from jumping down any well pits.

Okay, Mike kept telling himself. So he’d run into her checking out preschools. That wasn’t so odd. Certainly not prophetic. They both had four-year olds. They’d both just moved. They both had a lot of parenting things to do.

Besides…preschools weren’t sexy. Parenting wasn’t sexy, either.

It was in his head. That she belonged with him. That he belonged with her.

He had to get it out of his head. He was too damned old-and smart-to let his hormones do his thinking.

Stopped at a red light, he glanced again at the address. In another minute, he’d be at Dr. June Weavers, who was one of the five pediatricians he’d researched. He could still take Teddy into Chicago-it’s not as if they lived hundreds of miles away from his original pediatrician. But it made no sense, to trek a sick kid on freeways and through rush hours. Finding a closer doctor was the more logical option.

It finally stopped raining after lunch, but the sky was still drizzling. The trees looked waxed-wet and shiny, but humidity hung in the air like a blanket. He parked, noting the expensive landscaping at the doctors’ complex, took the stairs up two at a time.

And paused.

Amanda had just pushed through the door and was bolting down the steps. She’d have barreled straight into him if he hadn’t put out a hand.

The simple touch made her head shoot up. She sucked in a breath before she found a wry smile. “Pretty unbelievable, huh? Two places in a row?”

And then, “Don’t waste your time. This one’s a no vote.”

“Really?”

She listed her concerns. “Four crying kids in the waiting room. The receptionist was frazzled and out of patience. Dust in the corners. Just…no.”

“The doctor had hefty credentials.”

“I thought so, too. And maybe she’s brilliant. But it’s just not a well-run place.”

“You have more on your pediatrician list?”

She nodded. “Oh, yeah. Dr. Alan Rivers is the next on mine-”

“He was at the top of my choices, but I was doing a circle, hitting the geographically closest ones first.”

“Well…”

“Well…”

Since they both had cars, it seemed a foolish idea to leave one, but they both liked the idea of checking out “Dr. Alan” together. Two sets of eyes were always better than one. The office was just five blocks from the first doctor-but a major difference in worlds.

Mike stalled in the waiting room. The setting was a kid’s dream. A big-screen TV carried a whole selection of programs, from reading shows to movies like Free Willy. An aquarium took almost a whole width of wall, with all sorts of colorful fish darting around, the setup no higher than his knees. There was a lot for a kid to do besides wait and worry, he thought.

Amanda tracked down Dr. Alan for both of them. The doctor emerged from the exam rooms as soon as he was free. The guy was almost as little as his patients, big glasses, floppy hair, a bright blue stethoscope. Amanda remarked on the bins near the doorway-a child could pick out a pair of slippers, if he or she wanted to wear them in the office. And another bin held small, washable stuffed animals. A sign read Pick a Friend to Take in the Room with You.

The doctor gave them a full ten minutes. Neither needed more. On the way out, Amanda said, “For me, this is a cut-and-dried. He’s my guy.”

“Because the place was so kid-friendly?”

“Yeah. That mattered. And it was spotless. And no one was in uniform.”

“And nobody looked scared.”

She smiled at him. “Yeah. That was the biggie. I don’t doubt kids cry when they’re getting a vaccine, but I liked it, that none of the kids looked afraid, even though they were at the doctor’s.”

His truck was parked next to her car, where both of them hesitated again. “So we’ve got two things marked off the parenting list for the day?” he asked.

“Yup. And I’m exhausted.”

He laughed. “You think there’s a chance we can refrain from running into each other for a few hours?”

She stopped smiling, cocked her head. Something passed between them-something that muted the sounds of traffic and voices, that intensified the rustle of wet leaves and hint of lilac in the air. Something that made her eyes look mesmerizingly honest. That made him want to look and never stop looking.

“I’m not sure we’re going to manage it,” she said suddenly, softly.

“Manage what?”

“Staying out of trouble.”

She turned around, ducked in her car. He stood there even after she’d backed out of the parking lot and zoomed down the street.

He was about eighty-eight percent sure that she’d just given him a dare. She hadn’t said, “I want trouble.” But her tone had a whispery dare in it. Her eyes had a fever-bright dare for damn sure. Her body, her smiles… Oh, yeah. She was all about danger and dares.

It wasn’t a good idea to dare a guy who was at the end of his hormonal tether. He’d been good as gold. But like his four-year-old said-his male four-year-old-nobody could be good all the time.

Amanda arrived at Warren White’s house at ten to seven. As she’d expected, the White decorating scheme was beige. As in, beige, period. No bright color had seen a surface in the White house. The setup for the Home Owners’ Association meeting was a gathering in Warren’s great room…which opened onto a deck, where teenagers were supposed to watch over the little kids who came with their parents. Amanda wasn’t about to trust strangers with Molly, but she could see there were a ton of kids there, all having fun.

Still, she sat next to the door, with an eye on the yard outside. The older kids started a game of Mother, May I…and Molly, being the competitive tiny overachiever that she was, instantly joined in.

Amanda relaxed-a little-and scoped the room, trying to pick up names, friendly faces, who had which kids of what ages. She’d worn a scoop-neck top with white slacks, sandals, just a scrunchie pulling her hair back…while she knew the dress code for a city job with her hands tied behind her back, she wasn’t so sure of the rules in the suburbs. Most seemed to take her in as “one of them” from the start-a relief.

At least until Mike walked in.

Warren took center stage in front of his fireplace precisely at 7:00 p.m. He even had a little gavel. Cute, she thought. Pompous and silly, but still kind of cute.

Mike wasn’t. The women all silenced when he walked in-Amanda suspected they hadn’t seen that much testosterone in one package in a long time. He’d brushed and showered, done the whole cleanup thing, but he still had that look-the cross between ruffian and quarterback. He was a bad boy with charm. They could all smell it.

He spotted her in less than a millisecond. And there it was again. The Dare. Just like this afternoon. She’d been a perfect lady, hadn’t done a thing to entice or invite him, had been keeping to her celibacy pledge like a damned saint.

But at the preschool, then the pediatricians’ offices…well. He’d been daring her, Amanda thought darkly. And he was still daring her. She’d tried to be honest with him. She’d tried to stay out of his way, to avoid temptation, to just be a good neighbor and a good friend. But he had to quit looking at her that way. Had to quit sending out those hungry, hungry vibes…as if he wanted to eat her up, and to spend a whole long night doing it.

He was sending out dares.

As if she’d sucker into that childish double-dog-dare kind of thing. Well, she was smarter than that. She smiled at him, crossed her legs at the ankles, went for the ladylike posture. She wasn’t the one who was asking for trouble. It was him. Every time he looked at her. Every time he came close. Every time he breathed.

“Calling the meeting of the Home Owners’ Association to order. Lucy, would you read the minutes from the May meeting?”

Warren started the meeting in a voice that resembled the drone of flies in the summer. Lucy-a woman with cotton-candy hair and a girl’s swim-team logo-dutifully read the minutes.

Mike quietly crossed the room to sit next to her. Since Teddy wasn’t with him, she glanced outside-and yeah, there he was, already teamed up next to Molly in the crowd of kids in the big backyard. The game had changed to “Simon Says.” The kids looked happy.

She wasn’t.

For a man who had almost no hips and no butt, somehow he took up a huge amount of room. He smelled like fresh soap and vanilla ice cream. And yearning. He definitely smelled like yearning. He carried a folder.

“New business,” Warren announced.

Mike raised his hand.

“Well. It’s nice to have a newcomer so willing to participate in our group. Welcome, Mr. Conroy.”

“Mike,” he said as he stood up.

There followed a gasper.

She knew the neighbor who raised worms for his kid, who dug in mud, who neglected to shave for days at a time. But she didn’t know the lawyer. She’d never have guessed Mike could turn into a powerhouse who tapped into authority and command the minute he opened his mouth.

He was wearing sandals, for Pete’s sake.

He didn’t talk for long, just said he wanted to respond to issues raised by his putting in a water garden in his backyard…and a proposed electric fence he wanted to install. He handed a legal-looking document to Warren, but to the group of home owners, he laid out the gist of it more simply.

“I didn’t realize the Home Owners’ Association had ‘rules’ until Warren expressed them to me. My response is that document. I guarantee that I’ll return the property to its original condition, if or when I sell the place. I also guarantee that the water garden I’ve been putting in will exceed any standard of good landscaping set by your association…”

There was quite a bit more. When he finally sat down again, Warren had the expression of a major suck-up. “Mike, Mike, Mike. None of us were objecting to the water garden. We think it’s a wonderful idea. We just wanted you-and anyone else who’s new to the neighborhood-to ask first.”

When the meeting was over, the group of neighborhood women swarmed Mike. Amanda might have gotten a cup of lemonade with the rest…except that her mom’s ear, the left one, picked up the sound of crying.

Not her Molly’s crying.

But Teddy.