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“The cake is for the children and the flowers are for you. Your children’s friendship saved my daughter from a horrible depression at such a young age.”
Tall and confident in jeans and a blue polo shirt, covered by a black parka, Tim handed her the cake box and then set an orange cube vase of artistic seasonal flowers on the credenza. The mix of yellow sunflowers, rust cushion mums, seeded eucalyptus and magnolia leaves filled the room with a refreshing fragrance.
Erin’s eyes misted over at the memory of the last flowers Ben had given her at Debbie’s birth—to be replaced by ice cream when Becky came along, and by fruits when the twins were born.
“I’m the one who owes you so much, Tim.”
To welcome their guest, she’d taken trouble with her appearance, wearing her black leggings and an orange and yellow long-sleeve shirt. She hadn’t missed Tim’s glance of appreciation.
“Shh … Let’s say we’ve helped our children survive the trauma.” He exhaled loudly. “Losing a beloved spouse is incredibly hard. Our pain lies deep inside, hidden from the world. I don’t think we’ll recover soon, but our children are young. It’s not fair to let them suffer too long.”
His compassionate smile and considerate words wiped away a load of emotions filling her heart. He’d suffered the same hurt and was sharing his similar pain.
She met his clear gaze. “Thank you for your kind words. You’re right. We can’t afford to cry for long when the children need us.”
He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “But we do cry, at night, in the privacy of our lonely beds.”
Her face heated. This gorgeous, successful lawyer understood her so well and wasn’t shy about revealing his own weaknesses.
“Hi, Tim,” her mother called, approaching them. “We spoke on the phone. I’m Teresa Hall, Erin’s mother.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Hall. You’re always hiding somewhere inside when I drop off the kids.”
They shook hands, and he offered her mother a jovial grin, his emotion of a moment ago already controlled, reminding Erin of the way she usually acted.
“Don’t stand at the door. Come in and get comfortable.”
“This is for you.” He handed Teresa a bottle of wine.
“How nice. Thank you. I’ll share it with you guys.”
“Mom, Tim brought this delicious-smelling chocolate cake. I’ll put it in the fridge for now, and I’ll set my vase of flowers in the center of the dining room table. Their scent is great.”
“Well, I smell something else, a mouth-watering aroma of garlic and spices if I’m not mistaken. I’m sure it’s coming from your kitchen, Mrs. Hall.”
Her mother melted. “It’s the mix of spices I use for my ragout.”
Erin chuckled. “You sure know how to flatter my mother. Nothing could please her more than a man appreciating her cooking.”
He put his hand over his heart. “I swear I’m not flattering anyone. I haven’t eaten any home-cooked meal since the last time my mother visited. She was a fabulous cook. My wife wasn’t into cooking.” He followed her mother to the kitchen.
“Tim, uncork the bottle and pour us some wine. Erin, please bring the appetizers.”
To her credit, Teresa had prepared a real feast with small platters of shrimp, crackers, carrots, cucumbers, celery, sausage, and brown bread.
Tim carried the three glasses of wine into the living room.
Erin had inspected the room a few minutes ago, making sure that no crayon or piece of candy lay on the couch or the chairs. In a corner of the room, the twins dozed in their playpen.
Teresa raised her glass. “To friendship. We’re lucky to have met you, Tim.”
Tim nodded. “I’m the lucky one. To friendship.” He clinked his glass against Teresa’s, then Erin’s.
“It’s a good thing the weather is not too cold. The children are enjoying playing outdoors.”
They drank, ate, watched the kids swing, jump on the trampoline, and run after Chip, the black Cockapoo who’d been with the family for five years.
Why was her mother dragging out the cocktail hour? Erin hardly had an hour to eat, get dressed for work, and leave. Her supervisor had set a meeting for the late shifts’ staff and wouldn’t tolerate tardiness.
