Page 2 of Summer Weddings

Jeff rolled over and opened his eyes. Immediately he bolted upright. “Mom,” he cried excitedly. “You got me a dog!”

“No—he isn’t ours. I don’t know who he belongs to.”

“Me!” Jeff’s voice was triumphant. “He belongs to me.” His thin arms hugged the animal’s neck. “You really got me a dog! It was supposed to be a surprise, wasn’t it?”

“Jeff,” she said firmly. “I don’t know where this animal came from, but he isn’t ours.”

“He isn’t?” His voice sagged in disappointment. “But who owns him, then? And how did he get inside the tent with us?”

“Heavens, I don’t know.” Robin rubbed the sleep from her eyes while she attempted to put her garbled thoughts in order. “He looks too well fed and groomed to be a stray. He must belong to someone in the neighborhood. Maybe he—”

“Blackie!” As if in response, she was interrupted by a crisp male voice. “Blackie. Here, boy.”

The Labrador lifted his head, but stayed where he was. Robin didn’t blame him. Jeff was stroking his back with one hand and rubbing his ears with the other, all the while crooning to him softly.

With some effort, Robin managed to divest herself of the sleeping bag.

She reached for her tennis shoes and crawled out of the tent.

No sooner was she on her feet than she turned to find a lanky man standing a few yards from her, just on the other side of the three-foot hedge that separated the two properties.

Obviously he was her neighbor. Robin smiled, but the friendly gesture was not returned.

In fact, the man looked downright un friendly.

Her neighbor was also an imposing man, at least six feet tall. Since Robin was only five-three, he towered head and shoulders above her. Instinctively, she stiffened her back, meeting his dark eyes. “Good morning,” she said coolly.

He barely glanced in her direction, and when he did, he dismissed her with little more than a nod. After a night on the ground, with her son and a dog for bedmates, Robin realized she wasn’t looking her best, but she resented the way his eyes flicked disinterestedly over her.

Robin usually gave people the benefit of the doubt, but toward this man, she felt an immediate antipathy. His face was completely emotionless, which lent him an intimidating air. He was clearly aware of that and used it to his advantage.

“Good morning,” she said again, clasping her hands tightly. She drew herself to her full height and raised her chin. “I believe your dog is in the tent with my son.”

Her news appeared to surprise him; his expression softened.

Robin was struck by the change. When his face relaxed, he was actually a very attractive man.

For the most part, Robin hardly noticed how good-looking a man was or wasn’t, but this time…

she noticed. Perhaps because of the contrast with his forbidding demeanor of a moment before.

“Blackie knows better than to leave the yard. Here, boy!” He shouted for the Labrador again, this time including a sharp whistle loud enough to pierce Robin’s eardrums. The dog emerged from the tent and approached the hedge, slowly wagging his tail.

“Is that your dog?” Jeff asked, dashing out behind Blackie. “He’s great. How long have you had him?”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you again,” the man said, ignoring Jeff’s question. Robin supposed his words were meant to be an apology. “He’s well trained—he’s never left my yard before. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Blackie wasn’t any bother,” Jeff hurried to explain, racing forward. “He crawled into the tent with us and made himself at home, which was all right with us, wasn’t it, Mom?”

“Sure,” Robin answered, flipping her shoulder-length auburn hair away from her face. She’d had it tied back when she’d gone to bed, but it had pulled free during the night. Robin could well imagine how it looked now. Most mornings it tended to resemble foam on a newly poured mug of beer.

“We’re friends, aren’t we, Blackie?” Jeff knelt, and without hesitation the dog came to him, eagerly licking his face.

The man’s eyes revealed astonishment, however fleeting, and his dark brows drew together over his high-bridged nose. “Blackie,” he snapped. “Come.”

The Labrador squeezed between two overgrown laurel bushes and returned to his master, who didn’t look any too pleased at his dog’s affection for Jeff.

“My son has a way with animals,” Robin said.

“Do you live here?” Jeff asked next. He seemed completely unaware of their new neighbor’s unfriendliness.

“Next door.”

“Oh, good.” Jeff grinned widely and placed his right hand on his chest. “I’m Jeff Masterson and this is my mom, Robin. We moved in yesterday.”

“I’m Cole Camden. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

Although his words were cordial, his tone wasn’t. Robin felt about as welcome as a punk-rock band at a retirees’ picnic.

“I’m getting a dog myself,” Jeff went on affably. “That’s why we moved out of the apartment building—I couldn’t have a pet there except for my goldfish.”

Cole nodded without comment.

Oh, great, Robin thought. After years of scrimping and saving to buy a house, they were going to be stuck with an ill-tempered next-door neighbor.

His house was older than the others on the block.

Much bigger, too. Robin guessed that his home, a sprawling three-story structure, had been built in the early thirties.

She knew that at one time this neighborhood had been filled with large opulent homes like Cole Camden’s.

Gradually, over the years, the older places had been torn down and a series of two-story houses and trendy ramblers built in their place.

Her neighbor’s house was the last vestige of an era long past.

“Have you got any kids?” Jeff could hardly keep the eagerness out of his voice. In the apartment complex there’d always been plenty of playmates, and he was eager to make new friends, especially before he started classes in an unfamiliar school on Monday morning.

Cole’s face hardened and Robin could have sworn the question had angered him. An uncomfortable moment passed before he answered. “No, I don’t have any kids.” His voice held a rough undertone, and for a split second Robin was sure she saw a flash of pain in his eyes.

“Would it be okay if I played with Blackie sometimes? Just until I get my own dog?”

“No.” Cole’s response was sharp, but, when Jeff flinched at his vehemence, Cole appeared to regret his harsh tone. “I don’t mean to be rude, but it’d probably be best if you stayed in your own yard.”

“That’s all right,” Jeff said. “You can send Blackie over here to visit anytime you want. I like dogs.”

“I can see that.” A hint of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Then his cool gaze moved from Jeff to Robin, his face again expressionless, but she sensed that he’d made up his mind about them, categorized them and come to his own conclusions.

If Cole Camden thought he could intimidate her, Robin had news for him. He’d broadcast his message loud and clear. He didn’t want to be bothered by her or her son, and in exchange he’d stay out of her way. That was fine with her. Terrific, in fact. She didn’t have time for humoring grouches.

Without another word, Cole turned and strode toward his house with Blackie at his heels.

“Goodbye, Mr. Camden,” Jeff called, raising his hand.

Robin wasn’t surprised when their neighbor didn’t give them the courtesy of a reply.

In an effort to distract Jeff from Cole Camden’s unfriendliness, she said brightly, “Hey, I’m starving. How about you?”

Jeff didn’t answer right away. “Do you think he’ll let me play with Blackie?”

Robin sighed, considering the dilemma that faced her.

She didn’t want Cole to hurt Jeff’s feelings, but it wasn’t likely their neighbor would appreciate her son’s affinity with his Labrador.

By the same token, a neighbor’s dog, even one that belonged to a grouch, would ease her guilt over not being able to provide Jeff with the dog she’d promised him.

“What do you think, Mom?” Jeff prompted. “He’ll probably let me play with Blackie sometimes, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, honey,” she whispered. “I just don’t know.”

* * *

Later the same day, after buying groceries to stock their bare kitchen shelves and picking up other necessities, Robin counted the change at the bottom of her purse.

She needed to be sure she had money for the subway on Monday morning.

Luckily she had enough spare change for BART—Bay Area Rapid Transit—to last the week, but it was packed lunches for her and Jeff until her next payday, which was in two weeks.

Her finances would’ve been in better shape if she’d waited another year to move out of the apartment. But interest rates were at a two-year low and she’d decided soon after the first of the year that if they were ever going to move out of the apartment this was the time.

“Mom!” Jeff crashed through the back door, breathless. “We’re in trouble.”

“Oh?” Robin glanced up from the salad she was mixing. A completely disgusted look on his face, her son flung himself into a chair and propped his elbows on the table. Then he let out a forceful sigh.

“What’s wrong, Jeff?”

“I’m afraid we made a bad mistake.”

“How’s that?”

“There’s nothing but girls in this neighborhood.” He made it sound as though they’d unexpectedly landed in enemy territory. “I rode my bike up and down the street and all I saw were girls. ” He wrinkled his nose.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be meeting lots of boys in school on Monday.”

“You aren’t taking this seriously!” Jeff cried. “I don’t think you understand what this means. There are seven houses on this block. Six of them have kids and only one has a boy, and that’s me. I’m surrounded by women!”

“How’d you find all this out?”

“I asked, of course.” He sighed again. “What are you going to do about it, Mom?”

“Me?” Robin asked. “Are you suggesting we move back to the apartment?”