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Cynthia looked at the plate before her. “This is a feast.”

She glanced upward. The stars were starting to pop out and could just be seen between the limbs of the trees. The light flickering in the center of the table, the night sky and the charming man now sitting across from her were irresistible. She couldn’t think of a dreamier setting.

Sean poured them each a glass of red wine and handed one to her. Hand around his goblet, he looked at her for a moment.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No, I was just thinking how beautiful you looked in the candlelight.”

Her heart fluttered. The man was making every effort to impress and she liked it. No man had gone to such lengths before, not even Dave.

Raising his wine for a toast, Sean said, “To an amazing woman.”

Beaming, Cynthia clinked her glass to his. “Thank you. I’ve never been toasted before.”

“Then you’re long overdue.” He set his glass down and waited until she started eating, then joined her. They ate in silence for a few minutes. Cynthia hated to disturb the camaraderie they had built but she couldn’t get his earlier remarks about his family out of her mind. Having a support system was important. Why didn’t Sean understand that?

“I hope this doesn’t ruin our evening but I’m curious to know...”

“That sounds interesting and ominous at the same time.” He looked up at her and put his fork down.

“What is it with you and your parents? I don’t ever hear you say anything positive about them. You had a funny look on your face when we were talking about them earlier.”

* * *

Sean didn’t immediately answer her. Somehow he felt that the truth was all that he could share. Cynthia would see right through anything else. Accept nothing less. He was thankful there was only candlelight for her to see him by.

“My mom and dad and I just don’t think the same. I grew up with parents who see everything as pie-in-the-sky. The next great thing is coming their way. My daddy never held a solid job except for when he had no choice. They were always looking, and still are, for that get-rich-quick scheme. I’m the youngest of three. By the time they got to me there was no money. All your talk about your brothers playing basketball and doing extracurricular activities was fantasy in my childhood. Those weren’t in my life because what money we had went into investing in the next thing to make us rich. Those never panned out. Not once. When I got old enough to make my own money there wasn’t time for other things.

“Even on the off chance I got to do something sports related they rarely showed up. If they did come, they’d spend their time trying to recruit other parents into one of their schemes. I remember being so embarrassed.

“By the time I graduated high school we had parted ways. It was up to me to pay my way through college and I took out loans for med school. I had to do my own thing. I wanted nothing more to do with living hand to mouth. I worked in a nursing home and found I loved caring for people. I had good grades and decided that medicine was for me. Now you know all about the underbelly of my life.”

Cynthia said softly, “Now I understand.”

“Understand what?”

Her beautiful face was full of compassion but not pity. “Why you drive the type of car you do. Why your office looks as it does. Why you had that appalled look on your face when I wanted to sign you up for the internet meat club. Even why you picked here for our dinner.”

His shoulders tensed. Did she think he should have done more for her? Just minutes ago she’d seemed impressed with what he had planned for the evening. “Are you saying you think I’m cheap?”

“No, not at all.” She vigorously shook her head. “This picnic is far better than going to a fancy restaurant. I certainly have no problem with the type of car you drive. Look at what I drive. But I understand why you don’t fit the cliché you accuse me of trying to force you into. Or what I expected when I first met you. All I’m saying is I get why you think the way you do.”

He wasn’t sure he liked being that open with another person but with Cynthia there was security. She got him and didn’t dislike what she saw. He knew more than one woman who wouldn’t understand or couldn’t. Vulnerability wasn’t his strong suite but somehow being so with Cynthia seemed right.

She tilted her head to the side. “You said you haven’t seen your brother and sister in a couple of years. So how long has it been since you’ve seen your parents?”

“A little over a year.” He was revealing stuff he’d never told anyone. He didn’t talk about his family. Ever.

Disbelief covered her face. “Don’t you miss them?”

“I do more since I’ve met your family.” Again he was admitting something he normally wouldn’t. How did Cynthia manage to coax information out of him?

“How’s that?” She put her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand, studying him, leaving him no choice but to lie or to tell the truth. She would call him out if he wasn’t honest. He had a feeling he would go down in her estimation if he just refused to answer.

“Being around you and your brothers at dinner just reminded me of how some of my family meals were when things were good. I didn’t realize how much I had let the bad cover up everything else.”

She straightened. “Thank you, I think. That must have been a tough revelation. I hope being around us isn’t too painful.”

It was time to talk about something besides himself. He held up his thumb. “No, except for when I cut my thumb. Oh, yeah, or when I played paintball. Those balls can cause whelps that turn into perfectly round purple bruises.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea we were so rough. I even forgot to ask about your thumb.” She reached over and took his hand, caressing it.

“It’s fine. I had one of the nurses re-dress it. She said whoever had done it before had done a splendid job.” When she started to let go of his hand he took hers. “Tell me, what would you be doing if you weren’t being a transcriptionist right now?”

“You already know. I want to be a nurse.”

He gently rubbed her fingers. “So what’s holding you back? Your brothers are old enough to take care of themselves.”

She pulled her hand away and put both in her lap. “I need to see that Rick is settled in college. Convince Mark to go back. Then I can see about going myself.”

Had he hit a nerve? Cynthia sounded defensive. Despite that he asked, “When do you think that’ll happen?”

“I don’t know. Maybe next year. Or the next?” She picked up her fork again.

He wanted, needed to understand her thoughts. “So what were your dreams before?”

“You mean before my parents died?” There was a sad note in her voice.

“Yes.”

“I wanted to be an emergency department nurse. I liked the idea of not knowing what was going to happen next. To see all different problems. I hated it when I had to quit school.” She looked off into the night. Seconds later she blinked. “You know, this discussion has gotten too serious. Who’s your favorite movie star?”

“Boy, that’s a change of subject. But I’ll go along. John Wayne.”

She nodded sagely, as if giving the idea thought. “John Wayne. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I have his entire movie collection.”

Cynthia seemed impressed. “Really? I’ve only seen a few of his movies that I can remember.”

He leaned toward her. “I can’t believe that. How have you gotten to the age you are and seen but a few of his movies? That’s just wrong.”

“Wrong?” Her voice went up an octave and she raised her fork.

“Yes, wrong. I tell you what. We’ll finish here, go to my place to have dessert and a movie. We need to work on your education.” Sean picked up his unfinished chicken.

> She shook her head. “I’m not really into Westerns.”

“I know of one I think you’ll really like.”

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