Page 6

Will

Well, holy shit.

Only a moment ago, talking with my friend Eli, I’d been thinking about the last time I spent any time in this park.

“Buddy—you okay?” Eli had eyed me with active concern.

Eli was my divorce buddy. As in, we’d met in the waiting room of our shared lawyer’s office last year and spent our time griping about our respective marriage breakdowns.

“Yeah. Fine. Just got all this work stuff on my mind,” I said. It wasn’t a lie. I was at this all-day symposium here in Millerville when I had a shit-ton to do back at my office in Barkley Falls town hall.

It wasn’t the whole truth. But what was I supposed to say?

Whenever I go by this damn park I look for a woman I met here one time.

It was a ridiculous thought. I’d been to this park a dozen times before meeting her. I’d written a boring-ass report about its irrigation systems for my work as Town Manager where we were thinking about implementing something similar.

Not only that, but it wasn’t my habit to be thinking of women at all—at least not more than as friends or in passing.

I made sure of that.

And yet, like a mirage in a goddamn desert, here she was, Michelle Franco.

A breeze blew between us and the maple tree behind her came alive, its orange leaves whirling. The same breeze lifted a strand of that thick, curly dark hair that spilled over her shoulder like a waterfall.

“Hi,” I said.

That’s it? Hi?

Michelle blinked, her lashes flashing ink-black against her cheek.

Suddenly, I had the horrifying thought that maybe this wasn’t Michelle Franco. Maybe Michelle Franco was some messed-up figment of my imagination. Maybe that day in the park, with my brother a year ago, had been my head messing with me, showing me a picture of what I once would have thought was the perfect woman. It made sense—that was right around the time I’d inked my long-overdue divorce papers and swore I’d never go near another woman.

She still hadn’t said anything. A strange squeaking sound came from somewhere nearby. I hoped to hell it wasn’t me.

Finally, she spoke. “Nice to see you, Will.”

I let out a breath. I hadn’t made her up. And this wasn’t the wrong woman.

“Yeah,” I said.

Fuck. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have shoved her back out of my mind and—

“Who’s your friend?” she asked.

For a moment I was confused. I turned to look toward where Eli stood talking on the phone, gesticulating angrily. By the way his face had turned stormy, I’d assumed the call was from his ex and had taken his nephew Jack—the whole reason we’d met at this park on my work break—to give him some space.

Jack.

I looked down. I was still holding Jack. Sideways. “Oh, shit.”

So that’s where those noises were coming from.

I turned Jack upright, setting him on his feet. “Sorry, guy.”

The toddler giggled. Except for being a little red in the face, he looked okay. I hoped.

“Do you often forget you’re carrying your child?” Michelle asked.