He walked in and found her in the kitchen, rinsing out a coffee cup. She turned toward him, smiled and said, “Tom.”

    “Where are the kids?”

    “They’re finishing their chores. I told them I’d take them out for pizza if their chores were done.”

    “But unfortunately, you’ve been called away,” Tom said. “You can’t do this, Becky.”

    “They miss me. I miss them.”

    “I know. But you can’t pretend nothing has changed. At least I can’t.”

    “I told you, that’s over now.”

    “You do as you please, Becky. But you can’t change the past eight years and I can’t change the way I feel.”

    “Nothing was ever different with us. It had nothing to do with us.”

    He laughed hollowly. “Seriously? Yes, everything changed with us. How many were there, do you think? A hundred? Two hundred?”

    “Not even close. Hardly any,” she said.

    “Do you know how many women were in my life? From the day you left till now? Zero. Well, there was you—pretending you were working in a doctor’s office and going to yoga classes with girlfriends.”

    She shook her head sadly and tossed her beautiful red hair, hair that was not really red. Her blue eyes teared—she was the only blue-eyed redhead he’d ever known. She affected duplicity with such an air of innocence it still shook him. “I was not pretending.”

    “I won’t let you do to them what you did to me, Becky. You can see them, only here and only if you make plans with me first. And you can’t spend the night anymore.”

    “I’ll sleep with the girls...”

    “No, Becky, no. Don’t force my hand.”

    “Why are you doing this to me?” she asked, a catch in her voice.

    He almost laughed. She was arrested three times for solicitation and thought that having the charges vacated, the third time with the help of Cal Jones, criminal defense attorney, meant it had never happened.

    But it had happened.

    “I’m not going to talk about this now, with our youngest two kids upstairs. Take them to pizza and then tell them you can’t stay. Leave. Or I’ll tell them now, tell them why I don’t agree to let you spend the night or let them stay with you. I’ll tell them. I’m going to have to tell them eventually.”

    “Even though it’s all in the past?”

    “Well, I can’t be really sure of that, can I? It’s in the past until you’re arrested again, right?”

    “It must be nice to have never made a mistake,” she said in a mere whisper.

    He gave a huff of laughter. “Oh, I’ve made plenty and you know that. I just never had to be bailed out for any of them.”

    His youngest son, Zach, came bounding downstairs. “I’m done,” he announced.

    “I’m almost done!” his fourteen-year-old daughter, Brenda, called from upstairs.

    And I’d like a life, Tom thought. I’d like a chance to start over even though I waited too long. He admitted it was his fault. He’d been naive and because he always loved Becky so much, he stayed in denial about the fact that she had moved on. She was no help, coming back again and again, sleeping in their marriage bed, giving the pretense that she was still at least partly into the marriage.

    Yes, he had foolishly hoped...

    But it had been almost a year since that last arrest and he was cured of all naïveté. He’d finished the grief and torment and feelings of betrayal, and all he wanted now was to have a normal life. If he could just remember what that was.

    * * *

    Lola fed her sons, eighteen-year-old Cole and sixteen-year-old Trace at the diner. Some nights she left them dinner, some nights they went to their grandparents’ house, some nights they went out with their dad, Dave, from whom she’d been divorced for ten years. She and Dave got along fine as long as they spent very little time together. Dave was on wife number four and, by now, her sons were done with all the steps and halves. Once every couple of weeks, maybe, Dave would take them out for pizza or a burger and that was about it. He never was any good with support payments but sometimes she could guilt him into buying something the boys needed, like gear for school sports. He was basically a good-natured deadbeat dad and serial marrier—someone she’d never been able to count on.

    It was Friday night and prom was coming up—Cole was going with his girlfriend, Jen. Jen was on the prom committee and it was a big deal. Cole worked part-time for the grocer down the street, Trace worked part-time at the grill, mostly busing and cleanup. They were letting him take orders now and then, but he couldn’t serve alcohol. He was too young. The boys had good, hard jobs that helped Lola in convincing them to continue their educations so they wouldn’t be unpacking vegetables and washing dishes for life.

    Just as she was doing for herself, finally getting her degree. She’d worked in nearly every small business around Timberlake and a couple in Leadville since she was sixteen and she hoped to remain in the area as a teacher, even though those jobs were hard to come by. Elementary school was her first choice.

    The most important thing to Lola was that she liked her life as a single woman. Ten years postdivorce, she was settled. She was very busy, had plenty of friends, her mom and dad were close by and in good health, her little house was comfortable and easy to take care of and, as far as she was concerned, there was nothing missing.

    It was true there was no man in her life. She’d had a few dates over the years, and they were only dates. She’d gone skiing with a recently divorced dentist and they’d had a good time; but there were no sparks. One of her professors took her out a few times; he was considerably older and the relationship had not progressed, which was just as she’d have it. She’d gone out with a firefighter or two but it had been friendly and casual and they still saw each other around town. She was not looking for a lover, didn’t really need another friend.