"I doubt anyone will swipe it," Carrie said.

They walked along the trail, heading to the small piers where paddleboats and canoes were

tied. In spring and summer, you'd be hard-pressed to find one available as the lake would

be littered with them. But today, on this cool January afternoon, no one had braved the

water.

"I can't decide which time of year is my favorite out here," Carrie said. "I like the quiet of

winter, like today. But I miss the greenness of spring and summer. When I sketch in the

winter, I try to find something bright, something colorful. Like one of the red canoes on

the water, for instance."

"I've never seen you here before but I take it you're familiar with the lake," Jill said.

"I'm familiar with the lake, yes. I don't often come here to the park, though. Especially

during the summer. Way too many kids running around," she said. "Not that I have anything

against kids. They're just... disturbing," Carrie said with a laugh.

"Yes, I'll have to agree."

Carrie laughed. "Let me guess. You have a teenager."

Jill nodded. "A daughter."

"Oh, my."

"She's fourteen, thinks she's eighteen and acts like ten. Do you have kids?"

Carrie nodded. "Two boys. Josh is seventeen and will graduate in May. Aaron is fifteen.

Couldn't ask for better kids. Josh has always been mature for his age, and thankfully, they

get along well. Josh actually enjoys being taxi service for Aaron, so that saves me right

there. He's taken his role of big brother very seriously."

"Angie is at the I Hate My Mother stage," Jill explained.

"It's a girl thing," Carrie said. "My mother reminds me I was at that stage for fifteen

years," she said with a laugh.

They approached the swim area, deserted this time of year except for the ducks that

were sunning themselves on the sand. As if sensing a free lunch, no less than ten came over

to meet them. Carrie handed Jill several slices of bread and they went about the fun chore

of tearing it up and tossing it to the clamoring ducks at their feet.

"Oh, here she comes," Carrie said, pointing to a late arrival. "I call her Grandma Duck."

"Is she old?"

Carrie shrugged. "I have no idea. But she's more gray than brown, and see how she limps."

Carrie squatted down. "Here, sweetie," she murmured, tossing bread to the old duck.

Jill watched, smiling as Carrie shooed the other ducks aside so Grandma Duck could eat.

"I've seen her around for years," Carrie said. "She's a tough old broad."

The loaf of bread was devoured quickly, so they made their way back to the park bench. It

was a fun hour but it passed far too quickly.

"Can I ask you something?"

Carrie nodded. "Sure."

"Have we met before?"

Carrie laughed. "You too? I've been thinking about it since yesterday. You seem so familiar

to me."

"I know. But I don't think we've met." Jill allowed her eyes to linger on Carrie's pale blue

ones. "Surely we would remember."

Carrie's eyes turned serious. "Perhaps in another life," she murmured.

Jill was about to say she didn't believe in that sort of thing but the familiarity in Carrie's

eyes told her it might be true. "Perhaps."

Carrie smiled, her eyes softening. "And perhaps I'll see you again."

CHAPTER FIVE

Jill was surprised to see Craig's truck in the driveway when she got home that afternoon.

She knew he didn't have a game but they usually practiced after school. She noticed two

things when she walked into the kitchen. One, dinner was in the oven. He'd apparently

found the casserole she'd made the night before. And two, the washer and dryer were

both running.

"Craig?" she called.

"In here."

She found him in his recliner, the remote control in one hand and his cell phone in the

other. A basketball game was on.

"Thanks for starting dinner," she said as she walked behind him, lightly squeezing his

shoulder. "And laundry."

"How was your day?"

She smiled and shrugged. "Same as always." She rarely spoke about her job. On the few

occasions she did try to share something with him, she could tell he was totally

disinterested. If it didn't have to do with sports, his attention span was that of a tenyear-

old. "You?"

"Short day. I blew off practice. We were awesome last night. I told them to take a day

off."

"Well that was nice of you." She moved away. "Was Angie here? She had band practice."

"Yeah, I took her. She's going to catch a ride home."

"So I'm assuming she didn't give you grief like she did me this morning?"

Craig laughed. "The way I heard it, you gave her grief. My mother said Angie called her in

tears."

Jill sighed. "And what else did your mother say?"

"Oh, the usual. By the way, we're invited to dinner Saturday night."

"Can't wait," she murmured as she left the room.

Alone in their bedroom, she undressed quickly, intending to take a shower before dinner.

But Craig surprised her when he opened the door.

"We've got thirty minutes before Angie is home," he said, his eyebrows rising

mischievously. He smiled, causing his moustache to crinkle at the corners.

But she closed her eyes and shook her head< "I'm not really in the mood, Craig," she said

quietly.

He walked closer. "It's been a long time, babe."

"Yes, I know. It's been awhile since we've both actually been here at the same time."

"So? Is that a yes?"

Before she could answer, his cell rang. He looked at it, then back at Jill. "Sorry, babe, but

I've got to take this."

She shook her head, surprised at the relief she felt as he closed the door behind him. No,

she wasn't in the mood, but that hadn't stopped her before. But for some reason, this time

she couldn't muster the energy to fake it.

And instead of the quick shower she'd planned, she filled the tub with water, adding scents

and oils to the hot water. She lit the lone candle she kept there then turned the lights

down. It was a romantic setting. So before she slipped into the warm water, she locked the

bathroom door. Just in case.

She let the water envelope her, sinking down to her neck and closing her eyes. She wasn't

surprised when thoughts of Carrie Howell danced in her mind.

CHAPTER SIX

"That Howell? The electronics store?" Jill asked a few days later as they walked to feed

the ducks.

"Yes, that Howell, but it's not that big a deal," Carrie said.

"Is that really your husband in the commercials?"

"That's really him."

"Wow. He's attractive."

Carrie shrugged. "He's getting the middle-age spread."

"How long have you been married?"

"Twenty-two years. We seldom see each other, though. I'm certain that's a requirement

for a good marriage. You're never around each other enough to argue. But he's a

workaholic. He has seven stores now. Two in town here and the rest within a two-hundred-

mile radius. He's convinced he has to visit each one personally once a week."

"Wow."

"That impresses you?"

"Seven stores? Yeah, it does. How'd he get started?"

Carrie pointed. "There's Grandma Duck. She's waiting for us." She paused, her eyes still on

the duck. "When we got married, James had every gadget known to man. CDs were just

getting off the ground, computers were still in their infancy and cell phones were about

this big," she said with a laugh, holding her hands apart. "But, if they made it, James had to

have it." She handed Jill some bread then began tossing it to the ducks, making sure

Grandma Duck got her share.

"So that prompted him to open his own store of gadgets?"

"Pretty much. That was before the days of the big chain stores. He made a decent living

but when it became the norm for everyone to have a home computer, that's when his

business really took off. That, and when everything went digital. Phones and cameras. He

was way ahead of the game and he already had a reputation."

"So when the big stores moved in, it didn't cut into his business?"

"Some. But most of his other stores are in smaller towns where the competition is nearly

nonexistent."

"So you don't work then?"

Carrie shook her head. "Not anymore. But it really didn't have anything to do with James. I

was in real estate for years. I had my own money."

When Jill would have asked another question, Carrie turned to her, her blue eyes clear as

they met Jill's.

"You have got to be bored silly hearing about my husband's ascent in the business world.

Tell me what you do."

Again, that sense of familiarity settled over her as she looked into Carrie's eyes. She

smiled before turning back to the ducks.

"I don't even tell my husband about my job, why in the world would you want to hear about

it?"

"Because I'm interested in you."

It was a simple answer said with the casualness of a new friendship. But for some reason,

the words echoed in her brain. Why in the world would Carrie Howell be interested in her?

"I manage an office," Jill finally said. "Tutt Construction. I've been there since I quit

teaching, fifteen years now."

"Oh? You were a teacher? I always think of it as being the worst possible job on the

planet," she said with a laugh. "I don't blame you for quitting. So what does one do to

manage an office?"

"Well, there's the owner, Mr. Tutt's son Johnny who took over about eight years ago.

There's my assistant, who now handles all of the really important things, like making sure

there's coffee in the morning. That leaves me to juggle the accounts and keep them

reconciled, deal with the accountants, deal with the bank and do payroll for the

construction crews."

"You wear quite a few hats," Carrie said.

Jill shook her head. "I've been there so long, I could do it in my sleep," she said. "It's a

relatively stress-free job that brings in more income than my husband's."

"Ouch. That must hurt," Carrie guessed.

"He's a teacher. And a coach," she added. "At Kline High."

"So you were both teachers? What prompted you to quit?"

"I realized I hated teenagers."

Carrie's laughter rang out, startling the ducks as they scurried away from them.

"And now you're living with one. That's priceless."

"Glad you find it amusing," Jill said with a smile.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The inane conversation over dinner was endless and Jill found it hard to keep an interested

look on her face. She'd heard Craig's childhood stories more times than she could count—

they all had—yet his mother continued, droning on and on until Jill felt her eyes rolling to

the back of her head.

"Grandma, tell the one where Dad fell out of the tree," Angie coaxed.

"Oh, I remember when that happened," Craig's uncle chimed in.

Jill looked across the table at Craig, silently begging him to put an end to the storytelling.

He gave her a subtle wink then turned his attention to his mother who had already begun

the story.

Rude or not, Jill simply could not stand it another second. She stood, quietly pointing to the

bathroom. Her mother-in-law never missed a beat.

She closed the door then turned on the water, letting the sound drown out the voices in

the other room. She met her eyes in the mirror, wondering at her irritability this evening.

Of course her in-laws got on her nerves—they always had—but she thought she'd be used

to it by now. The once-a-month dinner party his parents hosted had become so routine, Jill

hardly gave it a thought anymore. But tonight, she simply could not take another second of

it. She sighed, then brushed at the blond hair covering her ears, then fluffed her bangs a

bit. She sighed again.

The restlessness she'd felt all day seemed to escalate as she sat through dinner, growing