Liz laughed. “That’s giving away a lot of power.”

“I know,” Denise agreed. “When I found out, I nearly had a fit. But by then, it was done.”

“I like their names,” Abby said.

“I like yours,” Dakota told her.

“Would you like to see their baby pictures?” Denise asked.

Melissa and Abby both nodded.

Montana groaned. “Mom, please. Not the baby pictures.”

“I was on bed rest for nearly four months with you three. I can do anything I want.”

She opened several cabinets in the storage unit below the TV and pulled out albums. Melissa and Abby joined her, as did Tyler. The triplets exchanged a glance and slowly moved over to where Denise had the albums open. Liz got up and walked to the bar.

“Does she do this a lot?” she asked.

Ethan grinned. “More than she should. It was worse when my sisters were in high school and starting to date. They had to bring the guys home to meet the folks, but ran the risk of the pictures coming out. My younger brothers made money by distracting her.”

“It’s almost enough to make me grateful for my inattentive mother.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he warned. “Any second now she’ll start lamenting her lack of grandchildren. I’ll be off the hook for a while because of Tyler, but my sisters are feeling the pressure.”

Even though she was standing in the room and seeing it all as it happened, there was a part of her that wondered if any of this was real. Were there actually families that interacted with each other? That laughed and fought and made up for years and still had that loving connection? While she and Tyler were close, it was just the two of them.

Or it had been, she thought, correcting herself. Her small family had just doubled in size with the addition of Melissa and Abby.

Liz felt her chest tighten and she had to consciously suck in air.

“You okay?” Ethan asked.

“I guess.” She looked at him. “I’m responsible for them. Melissa and Abby. They’re living with me permanently.”

He seemed confused. “That’s not news.”

“I know. Roy asked, I agreed. I never thought about saying no. It’s just…I never really put the pieces together before now. They’re my responsibility. I’m going to have to take care of them. Doctors and dentists and schoolwork and talking about boys. Until now it’s all been theoretical. I’m not prepared for teenage girls. Technically Abby’s not yet a teen, but still.”

He walked around the bar and sat next to her. “You’re doing great. Just keep with the plan.”

“I don’t have a plan. I don’t have anything. What if I mess up?”

“You’ll say you’re sorry and then you’ll start over.”

That seemed too simplistic. The responsibility was suddenly overwhelming. She’d gone from being a single mom of one child to being responsible for three. How could she have missed that?

What now? What would be best for them?

She turned toward the far wall and saw Denise bending over a coffee table, flipping pages in a photo album. Tyler, Melissa and Abby were clustered around her. The triplets hovered nearby, correcting or adding to the stories.

This was good for them, Liz thought. Seeing a big family in action. Feeling a part of something. They’d already been through so much. Not a thought designed to make her feel good about her decisions. Because in a few weeks her plan was to take her nieces from everything they’d ever known and move them to San Francisco.

She knew the argument. Her life was there. The schools were great, the house big enough. They would adjust. Kids did it all the time. But she couldn’t escape the voice whispering that staying here would make things easier for everyone. Well, everyone but her.

Tyler wouldn’t mind being uprooted. He might protest about leaving behind his friends, but the truth was he loved Fool’s Gold. And she had a feeling he would gladly trade time with his friends for time with his dad.

“Earth to Liz. You okay in there?”

“Don’t distract me with the facts,” she snapped.

He held up both his hands, as if to show he was unarmed. “I’m not the enemy here and you’re not making sense.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m confused by all of this.” And at the core of it, she was confused by him.

“Can I do anything to help?” he asked.

“Spike my drink?”

He grinned. “You got it.”


DINNER AT THE HENDRIX HOUSE was loud and fun and delicious. By the time the kitchen had been cleaned up-a job complicated by too many people trying to help-dessert eaten and more pictures viewed-this time of Ethan as a boy-it was nearly ten.

Ethan insisted on walking them all home. There were hugs for Denise and the triplets, promises to do this again soon, and then they were out in the cool, clear night.

Once they arrived, Liz herded the kids upstairs to get ready for bed, then turned to Ethan.

“We all had a great time,” she began. “Please thank your mom for the-”

Anything else she’d been planning to say was cut off when he kissed her. He cupped her face in both his hands, then pressed his mouth to hers. She reacted instinctively, moving closer, parting her lips and hanging on because kissing Ethan was always a hell of a ride.

He didn’t disappoint. After dropping his hands to her waist, he hauled her against him. His tongue invaded, taking and teasing, exploring and exciting. She felt the heat pouring through her body, the wanting. Just being near him was tempting enough, but actually touching him made her knees weak. She was hungry, but not just for sex. What burned inside her was need for this specific man.

She leaned into him and deepened the kiss. He responded in kind, their tongues stroking frantically. He moved his hands to her breasts and cupped the curves. His thumbs brushed against her tight, sensitive nipples, making her groan.

There was a noise from upstairs. As if something had fallen. They weren’t alone.

Reluctantly, she pulled back and he let her go. They stared into each other’s eyes, their breathing hard.

“Damn,” he murmured.

“Double damn.”

She thought he might ask to come back later, but he didn’t, which relieved her. Given the fact that she was still sleeping on the sofa, that there wasn’t any privacy in the house and that things were still unresolved, she knew making love would be a mistake.

“I should go,” he said.

She nodded.

“I had a good time tonight,” he told her.

“Me, too. And I didn’t expect to.”

He grinned. “I won’t tell my mother.”

“Thanks.” She raised herself up on tiptoes and brushed her mouth against his. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I look forward to it.”

He released her and left. She waited until she was sure he was gone, then stepped out on the porch into the darkness.

The night air cooled her heated skin. She brushed her fingers against her lips, as if she could recreate the feelings. But nothing would be the same as kissing Ethan. Reluctantly, she went back inside and started up the stairs to say good-night to her family.


SUNDAY MORNING LIZ DUG OUT AN old waffle maker and mixed batter. Tyler rose early, as he always did, while the girls slept in.

“Last night was fun,” he commented as he set the table, then carefully poured juice. “Did you see those old pictures of Dad? I really look like him.”

“I know. That’s what I thought when you were a baby-that you looked just like your dad.”

“We’re going riding later,” her son continued with a grin. “He’s showing me some really sweet tricks and stuff. He says I’ve got talent. I don’t know if I want to get serious and race professionally, but it’s so much fun.”

Tyler glanced down, then back at her. “In a couple of years, I’ll be old enough to go to racing school. Dad knows Josh Golden. He’s this really famous racer and he runs the school and everything.”

Hero-worship, she thought wryly. That was new. “I know Josh. I went to high school with him.”

Tyler’s mouth drooped. “So he’s like really old, huh?”

Liz winced. “Hey, not so old. Although he’s a couple years older than me.”

“But he could still teach me stuff. Only if we don’t live here, I guess I couldn’t go.”

Great. So now it wasn’t just Melissa and Abby who didn’t want to move. “You can’t go to the school for a few years, so let’s not worry about that now.”

Tyler hesitated. “But if we moved here, I could.”

“Yes. I get it. Let’s move on.”

Her son sighed, then nodded. “Dad says because I’m so good in math and science, that I could study a lot of different things in college. Like engineering or maybe do research.”

They were discussing his college plans?

“Maybe you should think about finishing high school first.”

“Oh, Mom. Plans are important. And goals. It’s a guy thing.”

“Girls don’t have goals?” she asked as she poured the batter into the heated grid.

“I guess some do, but some just want to be pretty.”

“And some guys are only into playing video games and partying.”

“Sure, but that’s different.”

Her son, the sexist, she thought, faintly annoyed. Apparently there needed to be more conversations about equality and tolerance. Perhaps Ethan should be the one doing the explaining. Then he could be more than the fun parent.

While she appreciated that Ethan and Tyler got along so well, she knew they were a long way from being father and son. Right now Ethan was entertaining and new. He’d yet to have to make any hard decisions, to stand up to Tyler or punish him.

“How is it different?” she asked.

“Guys don’t care about how they look and girls don’t care about computer games. Melissa takes forever in the bathroom.”

“Abby plays with you.”

“But there are more girls like Melissa than there are like Abby.”

“You know this how? Did you take a survey?”

He frowned. “You’re mad. Why?”

She checked on the cooking waffles. “Because you’re making statements about people that may or may not be true. You’re assuming a lot. It’s easy to say a group of people always acts a certain way, but it’s not accurate.”

“But why does it matter?”

“Because people are a lot more alike than they are different. The biggest problems we have in this world are because of what we assume about each other. People make decisions based on appearance or gender or race, without getting to know anyone in that group. Or they have a very limited sample. Then they say things and other people hear them and start to believe them. Pretty soon we have a cultural bias that affects all kinds of decisions.”

Tyler stared at her blankly.

Liz shook her head. “Let me try it another way. When Melissa and Abby move to San Francisco with us, Abby will be in your school, right?”

He nodded.

“She’s from a small town. Let’s say a few students and teachers think that people from small towns are stupid. So they find out about Abby transferring and they tell everyone at the school that Abby is stupid. Is that right or fair?”

Tyler’s eyes widened. “Abby’s not stupid. She’s really smart and nice and fun. She’s my friend.”

“I understand that, but so what? You said it didn’t matter if you said something about someone that wasn’t true.”

He was quiet for a few seconds. “They’ll hurt Abby’s feelings and I’ll get mad. And if I act out because I’m mad, I could get into trouble. And all my friends will help me and they’ll get in trouble.”

“That’s a big mess,” Liz said as she used a fork to pop the waffle onto a plate. “All because someone believed something that wasn’t true.”

“I guess it does matter what we say, huh?”

“Yeah. And a little word can have a big impact. The difference between all and some. ‘All girls don’t care about computer games’ is really different than ‘Some girls don’t care about computer games.’”

“Okay. So when I said girls don’t have goals, I was wrong. Some boys don’t have goals.”

“Exactly.” She passed him the waffle.

He grinned at her. “You’re really smart.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re probably the smartest mom in the whole world.”

She laughed. “That’s very possibly true.”


LIZ HAD LIVED THROUGH CABINETS being torn out, carpet being ripped up, drywall installation and insistent banging of hardwood floors being laid. But the noise that finally drove her out of the house was the high-pitched scream of a tile saw.

She took her laptop and a blanket to the far end of the yard and stretched out in the shade of a tree. The sound was still intense, but not so distracting.

She glanced up at the house. Even from here, she could see the changes. What had once been poured foundation and a few attempts at framing had become a real room attached to the house. The master suite was nearly complete. When it was, she might think about moving off the sofa.