Right Next Door (15 page)

Jeff fingered the bill of his baseball cap, then set the cap on his head. “I saw him yesterday and told him about the game, and he said he might come. I hope he does.”

Secretly Robin hoped Cole would be there, too. Over the past five days, she'd missed talking to him. She hadn't come to any decision, but he hadn't pressed her to make one, willing to offer her all the time she needed. Robin hadn't realized how accustomed she'd grown to his presence. How much she needed to see him and talk to him. Exchange smiles and glances. Touch him…

When she was married to Lenny, they were two people very much in love, two people who'd linked their lives to form one whole. But Lenny had been taken from her, and for a long time afterward Robin had felt only half alive.

All week she'd swayed back and forth over Cole's proposal, wondering if she should ignore her doubts. Wondering if she
could
ignore them. Sleepless nights hadn't yielded the answer. Neither had long solitary walks in Balboa Park while Jeff practiced with his baseball team.

“Cole said—” Jeff started to say, then stopped abruptly as his hands flew to his head. A panicky look broke out on his face and he stared at Robin.

“What's wrong? Did you forget something?”

“My lucky hat!” Jeff cried. “It's on my dresser. We have to go back.”

“For a baseball cap?” Robin didn't disguise how silly she considered that idea. “You're wearing a baseball cap. What's wrong with that one?”

“It won't work. You have to understand, Mom, it's my
lucky
hat. I've been wearing it ever since we played our first game. I had that very same hat on when I hit my first two home runs. I can't play without it,” he explained frantically. “We have to go back. Hurry, or we'll be late for the game. Turn here,” he insisted, pointing at the closest intersection.

“Jeff,” she said, trying to reason with her son. “It isn't the hat that makes you play well.”

“I knew you were going to say something like that,” he muttered, “and even if it's true, I want to be on the safe side, just in case. We've got to go back and get that hat!”

Knowing it would only waste valuable time to argue, Robin did as he requested. After all, his whole career as a major-league pitcher hung in the balance!

She was smiling as she entered her driveway. Sitting in the car while Jeff ran inside for his lucky cap, Robin glanced over at Cole's place. His car was gone. It'd been gone since early that morning, and she suspected he was at the property, working on his house. Jeff would be disappointed about Cole missing his game, but he'd understand.

Jeff came barreling out of the house, slamming the front door. He leapt into the car and fastened his seat belt. “Come on, Mom,” he said anxiously, “let's get this show on the road.” As if
she'd
caused the delay, Robin thought to herself, amused by her son's sudden impatience.

By the time they arrived at Balboa Park, the car park was filled to overflowing. Robin was fortunate enough to find a space on the street, a minor miracle in itself. Perhaps there was something to this magic-cap business after all.

Jeff ran across the grass, hurrying toward his teammates, leaving Robin to fend for herself, which was fine. He had his precious cap and was content.

The bleachers were crowded with parents. Robin found a seat close to the top and had just settled in place when she saw Cole making his way toward her. Her heart did an immediate flip-flop and it wasn't until he sat next to her that she was able to speak.

“I thought you were working up on the property this weekend.”

“And miss seeing Jeff pitch? Wild horses couldn't have kept me away.” He was smiling at her with that cocky heart-stopping smile of his.

“How have you been?” she asked. She couldn't keep her eyes off him. He looked too good to be true, and his dark gaze was filled with warmth and tenderness. How could she help getting lost in eyes that generous? It seemed impossible to resist him any longer.

“I've missed you like crazy,” he whispered, and the humor seemed to drain out of him as his eyes searched hers. “I didn't think it was possible to feel this alone. Not anymore.”

“I've missed you, too.”

He seemed to relax once she'd said that. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “Have you been thinking about what I said last weekend?”

She bowed her head. “I haven't thought of anything else.”

“Then you've made up your mind?”

“No.” She kept her face lowered, not wanting him to see her confusion.

He tilted her chin with one finger, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I promised myself I wouldn't ask you and then I couldn't seem to stop myself. I won't again.”

She offered him a weak smile, and Cole looked around him, clearly wanting to kiss her, but not in front of such a large gathering. The funny part was, Robin didn't care about being seen. She was so hungry for the reassurance of his touch, it didn't matter to her that they were in the middle of a crowded park.

“I see Jeff's wearing his lucky hat,” Cole said, clasping her hand and giving her fingers a comforting squeeze.

“You know about that?”

“Of course. Jeff tells me everything.”

“He panicked when he realized he was wearing the wrong one, and I had to make a U-turn in the middle of the street because he'd left the guaranteed-to-pitch-well baseball cap on his dresser.”

“You can't blame him. The luck has lasted through five games now.”

“I wonder if it'll last until he reaches the pros,” Robin said, sharing a smile with him.

“You're doing all right?” Cole asked unexpectedly.

She nodded, although it wasn't entirely true. Now that she was with Cole, every doubt she'd struggled with all week vanished like fog under an afternoon sun. Only when they were apart was she confronted by her fears.

“After Jeff's finished here, let's do something together,” Cole suggested. “The three of us.”

She nodded, unable to refuse him anything.

“Come to think of it, didn't I promise Jeff lunch? I seem to recall making a rash pledge to buy him fish and chips because we were leaving him with Heather and Kelly when we went to dinner last week.”

Robin grinned. “It seems to me you're remembering that correctly,” she said.

They went to a cheerful little fish-and-chip restaurant down by the Wharf. The weather had been chilly all morning, but the sun was out in full force by early afternoon. Jeff was excited about his team's latest win and attributed it to the luck brought to them by his cap.

After a leisurely lunch, the three of them strolled along the busy waterfront. Robin bought a loaf of fresh sourdough bread and a small bouquet of spring flowers. Jeff found a plastic snake he couldn't live without and paid for it with his allowance.

“Just wait till Jimmy Wallach sees this!” he crowed.

“I'm more curious to see how Kelly Lawrence reacts,” Robin said.

“Oh, Kelly likes snakes,” Jeff told them cheerfully. “Jimmy was over one day and I thought I'd scare Kelly with a live garden snake, but Jimmy was the one who started screaming. Kelly said snakes were just another of God's creatures and there was nothing to be afraid of. Isn't it just like a girl to get religious about a snake?”

Jeff raced down the sidewalk while Cole and Robin stood at the end of the pier, the bread and flowers at their feet.

“You look tired,” Cole said, as his fingers gently touched her forehead.

“I'm fine,” she insisted, gazing out at the cool green waters of San Francisco Bay. But Cole was right; she hadn't been sleeping well.

“I see so much of myself in you,” Cole said softly.

His words surprised her. “How's that?”

“The pain mostly. How many years has Lenny been dead?”

“Ten. In some ways I'm still grieving him.” She couldn't be less than honest with Cole.

“You're not sure if you can love another man, are you? At least not with the same intensity that you loved Jeff's father.”

“That's not it at all. I…I just don't know if I can stop loving him.”

Cole went very still. “I never intended to take Lenny away from you or Jeff. He's part of your past, an important part. Being married to Lenny, giving birth to Jeff, contributed to making you what you are.” He paused, and they both remained silent.

“Bobby had been buried for six years before I had the courage to face the future. I hung on to my grief, carried it with me everywhere I went, dragging it like a heavy piece of luggage I couldn't travel without.”

“I'm not that way about Lenny,” she said, ready to argue, not heatedly or vehemently, but logically, because what he was saying simply wasn't true. She mourned her dead husband, felt his absence, but she hadn't allowed this sense of loss to destroy her life.

“Perhaps you aren't grieving as deeply as you once were,” Cole amended. “But I wonder if you've really laid your husband to rest.”

“Of course I have,” she answered with a nod of her head, not wanting to talk about Lenny.

“I don't mean to sound unsympathetic,” Cole said, his tone compassionate. “I understand, believe me I do. Emo
tional pain is familiar territory for us both. It seems to me that those of us who sustain this kind of grief are afraid of what lies beyond.”

“You're exaggerating, Cole.”

“Maybe,” he agreed. “You're a lovely woman, Robin. Witty. Intelligent. Outgoing. I'm sure one of the first questions anyone asks you is how long it's been since your husband died. And I'll bet when you tell them, they seem surprised.”

That was true, and Robin wondered how Cole had guessed.

“Most young widows remarry.”

“Are you suggesting that because I didn't immediately fling myself back into matrimonial bliss I'm a candidate for therapy? Come on, Cole, even you must realize how ridiculous that is.”

“Even me?” he asked, chuckling.

Jeff came loping toward them, his face flushed with excitement. “They're filming a movie,” he cried, pointing toward a congested area farther down the pier. “There's cameras and actors and everything. Can I go watch some more?”

Robin nodded. “Just don't get in anyone's way.”

“I won't. Promise. Here, Mom, hold my snake.” He entrusted her with his precious package before racing back down the pier.

“He's a fine boy, Robin.”

“He loves you already. You and Blackie.”

“And how does his mother feel?”

The knot in her throat thickened. “She loves you, too.”

Cole grinned. “She just isn't sure if she can let go of her dead husband to take on a live one. Am I right?”

His words hit their mark. “I don't know,” she admitted. “Maybe it's because I'm afraid you want to marry me because Jeff reminds you of Bobby. Or because you've created a fantasy wife and think I'll fit the role.”

Her words seemed to shock him. “No. You've got that all wrong. Jeff is a wonderful plus in this relationship, but it's
you
I fell in love with. It's you I want to grow old with. You, and you alone, not some ideal. If you want to know the truth, I think you're stirring up all this turmoil because you're afraid of ever marrying again. The little world you've made is tidy and safe. But is this what Lenny would've wanted for you?” He gripped her firmly by the shoulders. “If Lenny were standing beside you right now and you could ask him about marrying me, what would he say?”

“I…don't understand.”

“If you could seek Lenny's advice, what would he tell you? Would he say, ‘Robin, look at this guy. He's in love with you. He thinks the world of Jeff, and he's ready to embark on a new life. This is an opportunity too good to pass up. Don't be a fool. Marry him.'?”

“That sounds like something my friend Angela would say.”

“I'm going to like this friend of yours—just as long as she doesn't try to set you up with any more of her divorced cousins,” Cole said, laughing. His eyes grew warm as he gazed at her, and she suspected he was longing to take her in his arms and kiss her doubts away. But he didn't. Instead, he looked over his shoulder and sighed. “I think I'll go see what Jeff's up to. I'll leave you to yourself for a few minutes. I don't mean to pressure you, but I do want you to think about what I said.”

“You aren't pressuring me,” she whispered, staring out over the water.

Cole left her then, and her hands clutched the steel railing as she raised her eyes to the sky. “Oh, Lenny,” she whispered. “What should I do?”

“C
ole wants me to ask your advice.” Robin continued to look up at the cloudless blue sky. “Oh, Lenny, I honestly don't know what's right for Jeff and me anymore. I love Cole. I love you. But at the same time I can't help wondering about Cole's motives….”

Robin paused, waiting. Not that she expected an answer. Lenny couldn't give her one. He never did; he never would. But unlike the other times she'd spoken to him, she needed a response, even though expecting one was totally illogical.

With every breath she took, Robin knew that, but the futility of it hit her, anyway. Her frustration was so hard and unexpectedly powerful that it felt like a body blow. Robin closed her eyes, hoping the heat of the sun would take away this bitter ache, this dreadful loneliness.

She felt so empty. Hollow all the way through.

Her fists were clenched at her sides as tears fell from her eyes. Embarrassed, she glanced around, grateful that the film crew had attracted most of the sightseers. No one was around to witness her distress.

Anger, which for so many years had lain dormant inside her, gushed forth in an avalanche of grief and pain. The tears continued to spill down her cheeks. Her lips quivered. Her shoulders shook. Her hands trembled. It was as if the emotion was pounding against her chest and she was powerless to do anything but stand there and bear it.

Anger consumed her now. Consumed her because she hadn't allowed it to when Lenny was killed. It had been more important to put on a brave front. More important to hold herself together for Jeff and for Lenny's parents. More important to deal with the present than the past.

Lenny had died and Robin was furious with him for leaving her alone with a child to raise. Leaving her alone to deal with filing taxes and taking out the garbage and repairing leaking pipes. All these years she'd managed on her own. And she'd bottled the anger up inside, afraid of ever letting it go.

“Robin.”

Cole's voice, soft and urgent, reached out from behind her. At the sound, she turned and walked into his arms, sobbing, needing his comfort and his love in equal measure. Needing him as she'd never needed anyone before.

She didn't know how long he held her. He was whispering soothing words to her. Gentle words. But she heard none of them over the sound of her own suffering.

Once she started crying, Robin couldn't seem to stop. It was as if a dam had burst inside her and the anguish, stored for too many years, came pouring out.

Cole's arms were securely wrapped around her, shielding her. She longed to control this outburst, longed to explain, but every time she tried to speak her sobbing only grew worse.

“Let it out,” he whispered. “You don't have to say anything. I understand.”

“He doesn't answer,” she sobbed. “I asked him…Lenny never answers me…because he can't. He left me…”

“He didn't want to die,” Cole told her.

“But he did…he did.”

Cole didn't argue with her. He simply held her, stroking the back of her head as though reassuring a small child.

It took several minutes for Robin to compose herself enough to go on. “Part of me realizes that Lenny didn't want to leave me, didn't want to die. But he did and I'm so angry at him.”

“That anger is what makes us human,” Cole said. He continued to comfort her and, gradually, bit by bit, Robin felt her composure slip back into place.

She sensed Jeff's presence even before he spoke.

“What wrong with my mom?” he asked Cole.

“She's dealing with some emotional pain,” Cole explained, speaking as one adult to another.

“Is she going to be all right?”

Robin hadn't wanted her son to see her crying and made a concerted effort to break away from Cole, to reassure Jeff herself. Cole loosened his hold, but kept his arm around her shoulders.

“I'm fine, Jeff. Really.”

“She doesn't look so good.”

Her son had developed the irritating habit of talking to Cole and not to her when she was upset. They'd done it that day her son had run away to the fort. Jeff and Cole had carried on an entire conversation about her while she was in their midst then, too.

Cole led her to a bench and they all sat down.

Jeff plopped down next to her and reached for her hand, patting it several times. Leaning toward Cole, he said earnestly, “Chocolate might help. One time Mom told me there wasn't anything in this world chocolate couldn't cure.”

She'd actually said that? Robin started to smile. Wrapping her arms around her son, she hugged him close, loving him so much her heart seemed about to burst.

Jeff wasn't all that keen on being cuddled, especially in public, but although he squirmed he put up with his mother's sudden need to hold him.

When she'd finished, Jeff rolled his eyes and once more directed his comments to Cole. “She gets weird like this every once in a while. Remember what happened that day I ran away?”

“I remember,” Cole said, and Robin smiled at the trace of amusement she heard in his voice.

“Will you stop excluding me from this conversation? I'm going to be all right. I just had this…urge to cry, but don't worry, it's passed.”

“See what I mean?” Jeff muttered to Cole.

“But Jeff's right,” Robin said, ignoring her son's comment. “Something chocolaty would definitely help.”

“You'll be okay by yourself for a couple of minutes?” Cole asked.

“I'll be fine. I…don't know exactly what came over me, but I'm going to be just fine.”

“I know you are.” He kissed her, his lips gentle against her cheek.

The two of them left and once more Robin was alone. She didn't really understand why the pain and anger had hit her so hard now, after all this time. Except that it had
something to do with Cole. But the last place she would ever have expected to give in to her grief was on Fisherman's Wharf with half of San Francisco looking on.

Jeff returned less than a minute later, running to her side with a double-decker chocolate ice cream cone. “Cole's bringing two more for him and me,” he explained. “I told the guy it was an emergency and he gave me this one right away.”

“That was nice of you,” Robin said, wondering what the vendor must have thought. Smiling, she ran her tongue over the ice cream, savoring the cold chocolate. As profoundly as she'd wept, she felt almost giddy with relief now, repressing the impulse to throw back her head and laugh.

Cole arrived, and with Jeff on her left and Cole on her right she sat on the concrete bench and ate her ice cream cone.

“I told you this would work,” Jeff told Cole smugly.

“And to think I scoffed at your lucky baseball cap,” she teased, feeling much better.

When they finished the cones, Cole gathered up their packages and led them back to where he'd parked his car.

Blackie was there to greet them the instant they returned to Orchard Street. Jeff ran into the backyard to play with the dog, and Cole walked Robin to her door. He accepted her offer of coffee.

“I'm probably going to be leaving soon for my property,” he said, watching her closely. He sat down at the table, his hands cupping the mug as though to warm them. “Will you be all right?”

Robin nodded. She walked over and stood beside him and pressed a hand to his strong jaw. “I realize you delayed going up there today because of Jeff and his baseball game. We're both grateful.”

Cole placed his hand over hers and harshly expelled his breath. “I feel responsible for what you went through there on the pier. I should never have said what I did. I'm sorry, Robin, it wasn't any of my business.”

“You only said what I needed to hear.”

He smiled. “If I did, it was because of what happened to me in Seattle. It's quite a coincidence that both of us would come to grips with our pain while standing on a pier—me in Seattle, you here in San Francisco. I went home with this incredible sense of release. For the first time since Bobby and Jennifer's deaths, I surrendered my grief. In a way it was as though I reached up and God reached down and together we came to an understanding.”

That so completely described what Robin had been feeling that for a long moment she couldn't say anything. What Cole had said earlier about carrying the pain, dragging it everywhere, was right on the mark, too. He understood; he'd done the same thing himself. A surge of love swelled within her.

“I know you don't want to hear this,” he was saying. “I honestly don't mean to pressure you. But once I returned from Seattle and realized I was falling in love with you I started thinking about having another baby.” He hesitated and took a gulp of his coffee. Then he stood up abruptly, nearly knocking the chair backward. “I'd better go before I say or do something else I shouldn't.”

Robin followed him into the entryway, not wanting him to leave, but not quite ready to give him what he needed.

He paused at the screen door and his eyes immediately found hers. He couldn't seem to keep himself from touching her, brushing an auburn curl from her cheek. His
knuckles grazed her skin lightly, and Robin's eyes closed of their own accord at the sensation that shot through her. Her heart was full, and she seemed to have all the answers now—except to the one question that was the most important in her life. And Jeff's.

“I'll see you sometime next week,” Cole said roughly, pulling his hand away. Without another word, he walked out the door, pausing at the top of the porch steps.

He called for his dog and in response both Blackie and Jeff came running.

“You're not leaving, are you?” Jeff asked breathlessly.

“I'm taking Blackie for the rest of the weekend. You think you can get along without him till Monday, sport?”

Jeff shrugged and stuck his fingers in the hip pockets of his blue jeans. “I suppose. Where are you taking him?”

“To my property.” Cole didn't turn toward Robin. It was as if he had to ignore her in order to walk away from her.

“Oh, yeah!” Jeff said enthusiastically. “I remember you said something about it once. You're building a house, aren't you?”

“Remodelling one. My grandfather lived there as a boy and he left it to me, only it's been a lot of years since anyone's cared for that old house properly and there's plenty of work that needs to be done.”

“I'll work for you,” Jeff piped up eagerly. He made a fist and flexed his arm, revealing the meager muscles. “I know it doesn't look like much, but I'm strong. Ask anyone.”

Cole tested Jeff's muscles, pretending to be impressed. “Yes, I can tell you're strong, and I'm sure I couldn't ask for a harder worker.” Jeff beamed until Cole added regretfully, “I'll take you up there another time, sport.”

Jeff's face fell.

Before she even realized what she was doing, Robin moved onto the porch. “Cole.”

He turned to face her, but the movement seemed reluctant.

Perhaps it was because she didn't want to be separated from him any more than he wanted to be away from her. Perhaps it was the thought of Jeff's disappointment when he'd already had so many other disappointments in his life. Perhaps it was this newborn sense of freedom she was just beginning to experience.

She stepped toward Cole. “Could Jeff and I go up to the property with you?”

Jeff didn't wait for Cole to answer before leaping excitedly into the air. “Hey, Mom, that's a great idea! Really great. Can we, Cole? Blackie and I can help you, and Mom can…Well, she can do things like make us some grub and bring us lemonade and other stuff women do when their men are working.”

“I'll have you both know I pound a mean hammer,” Robin felt obliged to inform them. If she was going to Cole's farm, she fully intended to do her share.

Cole looked perplexed for a moment, as if he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. “I'd love to have you come—if you're sure that's what you want.”

Robin just nodded. All she knew was that she couldn't bear to be separated from him any longer.

“Be warned—the house is only half done. The plumbing isn't in yet.”

“We'll manage, won't we, Jeff?”

“Yeah,” Jeff said eagerly. “Anyway, boys got it easy.”

Cole laughed. “How long will it take you to pack?”

“We're ready now, aren't we, Blackie?” Jeff almost jitterbugged across the front lawn in his enthusiasm.

“Give me a few minutes to throw some things together,” Robin said, grinning. Jeff was smiling, too, from ear to ear, as he dashed past her into the house and up the stairs.

Cole's eyes held Robin's in silent communication—until Jeff came bursting out of the house, dragging his sheets and quilt with him, straight from his bed.

“Jeff,” she cried, aghast, “what are you doing?”

“I took everything off my bed. I can go without plumbing, but I need my sleep.” He piled the bedding at their feet. “You two can go back to looking at each other. I'll get everything else we need.”