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“Oh? Why not?”
“He’s a momma’s boy. All those kids are. Forget it. I want a man, and I think I found one in you.”
“Plus my mother is dead,” he said, giggling. “Not that it’s funny, but I was sort of a momma’s boy at one time.”
“No, you were not.”
“I was. My brothers are older than I am. I was a change-of-life baby, but that wasn’t talked about back then. So I guess I was a surprise.”
“Okay, well, that’s kind of nice, I think. I’m sorry your folks are gone, though. Mine are alive and well and drive me nuts.”
“Do they live close by?”
“Close enough.” She didn’t say they lived in a retirement village in La Jolla.
“So what are you going to do the rest of the week? You said you didn’t work…”
She didn’t think it would serve any purpose to be cagey about her financial situation. Like Devon had said, it might work in her favor down the line. “I don’t. You could say I’m a trust-fund baby. It’s not a lot, but I’m careful. I hate leaving my house, and if I had to do it every day, I’d probably go nuts.”
“Gotcha. I’m not crazy about working a nine-to-five, but it’s even worse trying to adjust to shift work again. I miss my dogs.”
“Who’s got them?” she asked, wondering if Clare came by to walk them every day.
“I have a dog sitter.”
Then the alarm went off announcing a fire, followed by a disembodied voice echoing instructions over the loudspeaker.
“I guess that’s it,” she said.
He leaned over and kissed her in full view of everyone. “I’ll text you when we’re back.” Reluctantly walking away from her, he tipped an imaginary hat in her direction, and that was it.
Back in her car, she waited until the fire engines were out of the garage so she didn’t hold things up with her slow driving. Elizabeth and Bob Conner drifted into her consciousness. Using all of her willpower, Lila had refused to dwell on her childhood, or to use it as an excuse for ostensibly wasting her life, but now, with the possibility of love looming large, she knew she had to do the work. It was imperative that she confront those demons of the past so that they didn’t revisit her, perhaps when she had her own children. While she waited for the procession of emergency vehicles to pass, her phone beeped. It was Devon.
“Thanks again for taking me to the doctor. I know you hate this kind of BS.”
“Devon, get over yourself. I can’t think of anyone else I’d ever do this for. You’re my best friend.”
“What are you doing now?”
“I just stopped by the station to see Charlie, and they got a call. Now I’m debating making the dreaded visit.”
“Elizabeth and Bob?”
“You got it. I want to confront them, Devon. If Charlie and I get serious, I don’t want to bring this baggage into our relationship.”
“Is that happening? I mean, are you getting serious?”
“Well, he is, and I’m going to force myself to do so. He’s too good a catch to let go because I’m afraid of whatever this is I’m afraid of.”
“Read Adult Children of Alcoholics,” Devon said. “Mike read it because Roberta was a lush. He said it really helped him figure out why he was afraid to get involved.”
“I’m not afraid,” she said, her blood pressure going up.
It was the same response she always had whenever Devon tried to get her to face her boogeymen. Denial, fear, retreat.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, Lila. It’s a good thing you’re going to confront the old folks.”
“I wish you’d come with.”
