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“Why’s that?” Rick asked, knowing, but wanting to challenge her. What was so great about Devon Lyon?
“Because he was Mike’s dearest friend. Being around him is almost like having Mike, only he’s not Mike. It’s hard to explain. Unless you’ve lost the love of your life, you can’t understand.”
“Aisling, frankly, I’m sick of this conversation.”
“Rick, you brought it up. Why doyouthink it’s going to take me a week to get over seeing him?”
“Because you’re in love with the guy,” Rick said. “Any idiot can see that. You love him and you’re too worried about what people will say if you hook up. The same with us. You won’t give me a chance because you’re worried Mike’s friends will object.”
“That’s not true!” she protested.
“It’s completely true. Why aren’t we romantic, then? Because we’re just friends, right? God, I’m sick of hearing that.”
“I’m not interested in you in that way,” she said. “I’ve made that clear from the beginning. Yes, we’re just friends.”
“Aisling, do yourself a favor. Accept what you feel for Devon. It’s better than going around using everyone else.”
Sitting in the lounge chair with Tilly in his lap, looking at the view, he read Aisling’s message again. So Rick was just a friend, and Devon had acted like a jealous moron at the garden. The next time they were on the same shift, he’d have to apologize. Aisling might think they were only friends, but knowing male behavior, Devon was sure there was more to it as far as Rick was concerned. He chose not to reply to the message.
Then Lila texted him.Headed out with Charlie and thought we might stop by. Are you up to visitors?The little well-being he had quickly sank. He considered not answering, but it would be like Lila to just show up. So he wrote back,Headed out for a couple of hours. Talk tomorrow.
Fortunately, she didn’t ask where. He was glad Lila and Charlie had hit it off, but had a dreaded fear of being in the middle of it, and there was no way he’d survive. It was better to watch from afar.
“Come on, Till. Let’s get on the couch.”
He led his little dog inside, and they got on the couch and listened to the droning of the voices from the television, both falling asleep. Sometime after eight the next morning, Devon woke up, stiff from sleeping in the same position all night.
“Tilly, it’s the lost weekend,” he moaned. “Do you need to go out?”
She perked up and jumped off the couch. He stood outside, the fog thick around the house, while she ran to her private area. Devon knew he’d sunk about as low as he could get and still function. Missing Mike hit him in the gut. There was no one else who knew his moods like Mike.
“You need to get out and get fresh air,” he’d say, and the two of them would hike along part of the San Dieguito River trail, or spend the day at Lake Hodges renting kayaks, or strap their surfboards onto the top of Devon’s Jeep and go to the beach for the day.
Devon didn’t care for sports or outdoor activities alone, but he went along with Mike because that was what they did together. Mike played tennis and racquetball, swam, ran for fitness, and lifted weights. Devon also did those things, but only because Mike loved sports and because he needed to stay in shape for the job.
“You play like you love tennis,” Ray had said. “Why don’t you want me to put a court in?”
“Dad, don’t spend the money. The public courts are enough for me. It’s Mike who loves tennis.”
Now even the job he had, fighting fires, was the job Mike had wanted to do. Devon thought about Raymond Lyon, Inc., Engineering Contractors. The sale of the business had provided Devon with enough money to live comfortably. He didn’t have to work. The thought occurred to him that it might be time to quit the department.
When Tilly finished, she followed Devon back into the house. They stood in the doorway for a while, looking from the couch to the back of the house and back again.
“I guess I’d better force myself, Tilly. Take a shower, get dressed, and then decide what the next step will be.”
She jumped back on the couch, watching him leave the room. The effort it would take to stay engaged forced Devon to face that he was in serious emotional trouble. A reclusive life awaited him if he didn’t take major steps to stay involved with the living. That meant keeping his job, if anything, just so he was forced to leave the house a few times a week.
While Devon contemplated the next step in his life, Aisling was also debating what she should do. The night before, she’d told Rick they wouldn’t be seeing each other again.
“It would be leading you on,” she said. “We’re never going to be romantic, Rick.”
So he left in a huff, and she didn’t try to stop him or reason with him. Seeing Devon again in the rose garden had awakened something within her that she’d denied for a long time, maybe even while Mike was alive. She was attracted to Devon in more than a friendly way. Of course she loved him, and now she knew that love could segue from loving him like a close family friend to loving him like a lover. All the months they’d been apart were purposeful—she wanted to remember Mike as the baby’s father; she wanted to mourn the loss of him. With Devon next to her, the ability to focus on Mike had diminished, even after a month.
The absence of Devon had allowed her to grieve. Even with Rick hanging around, she still missed Mike. But now Rick was out of the picture. Mike had been gone for nine months. She was lonely, and she missed Devon. Picking up her phone, she saw that he’d read her message but, for whatever reason, hadn’t answered. This time she’d call him, and surprising her, he answered.
“Hey, Aisling,” he said. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I acted like a jerk.”
“You were fine,” she said. “And I had a talk with Rick. We won’t be seeing each other again. He wanted more than friendship, and I thought I’d made it clear that it wasn’t going to happen.”
