Page 39

Randy inclined his head from side to side.“It sounds like she’s hesitant. I wish I could say it was looking better.”

She stood, anger bubbling to the surface.“That’s bullshit. These areherkids. She needs to step up for them.”

“Yeah, well, not everyone looks at family theway we do, Katie.”

“I’ll go visit her then. See if I can reasonwith her somehow. If she’s a decent person, like you seem to think she mightbe, she’ll come around.”

“Not a good idea.” He crossed to her, shovinghis hands into his pockets. “Let the professionals handle it. You’re dealingwith enough. It’s not up to you to sort out those kids’ lives.” He poked hershoulder lightly. “You take care of you.”

She nodded, knowing that the further in shegot, the harder it was to come back out. She sighed. Randy was right, and shehated that. “Right. Yeah. I know.”

“Speaking of taking care of you”—he turnedaround and picked up the bag he’d come in with—“half a dozen fresh glazed fromDawn of the Doughnuts. Made this morning. Picked ’em up before I hit the road.You’re welcome.”

Kate grabbed the bag and inhaled the sweetsmell through the grease-soaked paper from her favorite donut shop inSlumberton. “Oh, wow. Man, I missed these.” She hugged the bag to her chestlike a long-lost teddy bear.

“Thought you might have felt that way. Butdon’t get caught up with those. You’re taking me for an early dinner, and thenI’m hitting the road.”

“You’re not staying?”

“Can’t. The book club is meeting at the storetomorrow, and it always brings me some much-needed revenue. But take me for asteak and a beer, and I’ll tell you all the town gossip you missed.”

“Done.” She grabbed her keys, glanced at him,and smiled. “It’s good to see your face.” Not wanting to dwell in the land ofsentimentality, a place she’d never been very comfortable, she thumped him onceon the shoulder and headed for the door. “What’s with the cap?”

“I’m trying something new.”

She slipped into a playful announcer voice.“Randy Carpenter leaps into the land of fashion.”

“I’m too nerdy for fashion. Stop it.”

“Can’t. I’m your sister.”

Dinner was much of the same, and it felt goodto fall into a familiar groove, especially with someone she felt as comfortablewith as Randy. She could be herself, but at the same time not worry thatsomeone would be whispering about her at the next table over, for the good orbad. It was the best of both worlds.

“So, what do you do here anyway?” he asked,pushing his plate away. For a slight guy, he’d polished off a twelve-ounceribeye in remarkable time.

She raised a shoulder. “I read a lot. I’vehit up the beach a few times. Seen some of LA, and have become surprisinglyawesome atMs. Pac-Man.”

“Ms.Pac-Man? That’s random. Since when do you play video games?”

She laughed. “No idea. Very unlike me.”

“So, that means you’ve made friends here?”

“I tend to be quiet and stick to myself, asyou know, but yeah.” She nodded. “A handful. It’s been an unexpected perk. Ithink it’s the complex I’m staying in. Social place.”

“And women?” Randy had always pushed her onthat front, wanting her to date and eventually settle down the way he had. Atotal broken record on the topic.

She hesitated for too long and felt it.“Nope, nothing like that.”

“I don’t believe you. Your cheeks are redlike that time when you cut the hair off all your dolls and blamed it on thedog.”

“How do you know he wasn’t guilty?”

He stared at her, unwavering.

“Fine.” She set down her silverware. “There’sa woman who I’ve spent time with, but it doesn’t have relationship potential.We’re friends who…appreciate each other.”

He took a satisfied pull from his beer. He’dcracked her as always. “Why no potential?”