“You’d care if you were her husband,” Tom had said.

    Cal had clamped a hand on his shoulder and said, for at least the tenth time “Good thing you haven’t been married to her for about eight years, then.”

    So then Tom had to face the embarrassing truth—that he’d been willing to forgive and forget anything because he wanted his wife home, his wife who had not been his wife in years.

    But now there was Lola. He’d known her almost his whole life. She was a couple of years older than Tom, had been ahead of him in school. Tom had grown up on a local ranch; his dad kept cows and grew alfalfa. Her dad worked in the hardware and farm equipment store. They’d both married too young, had nothing much in common as couples, divorced and became single parents, too busy for much socializing.

    Now he was looking at Lola in a whole new way. The reason being, he was a one-woman man, period. When he thought of Becky as his wife, even his part-time wife, his eyes just wouldn’t stray. Once he let go of that notion he realized how much he liked Lola. Rather, he realized all the things he liked about her. Her curly dark hair, her rosy cheeks, her pleasantly round figure, her large dark eyes. She had red lips and a ready laugh. She was funny. He’d always known all these things about Lola but he hadn’t appreciated them before. People loved her. She’d been a fixture in the diner and Home Depot for so many years, everyone knew her and everyone liked talking to her when they stopped at the diner for coffee or an ice cream sundae, or maybe Home Depot for paint or home repair supplies.

    As far as Tom knew, there hadn’t been a man in her life in years. He started off with a potted plant, then a second, then a phone call. He’d had to think for hours and hours what pretense he would use for calling her. “There’s a home show in Colorado Springs and I was thinking of going. Always good to keep up on that stuff, what’s new, what’s still popular, what’s innovative. You have any interest in that?”

    Now there’d been four plants, many phone calls, he’d taken her out to see Cal’s house in progress, he’d shown her his house and they had a new hobby—looking at model homes and open houses. They could spend hours talking about construction, remodeling, new decorator items, paint. They invested almost an hour of porch time talking about sinks! That’s when he held her hand. For the first time. And he laughed.

    “What’s so funny?” Lola asked him.

    “I got butterflies,” he admitted, adding a slight flush to the statement. “You know the last time I felt that? I was about fourteen.”

    “I think we should talk,” Lola said.

    “We’ve been talking nonstop,” he said. “Almost every day.”

    “I think we should talk about this—you’re courting me. I thought we were single parents who liked being independent?”

    “Am I making you feel less independent by holding your hand?” he asked, giving her hand a squeeze.

    “Just where do you think this is going?” she wanted to know.

    “I have no idea, but I’m enjoying it right now. How about you?”

    “I’m surprised, that’s all. We’ve known each other for years and now, suddenly, we’re kind of dating. Even if our dates seem to be on the phone or looking at new hardware. I grew up around hardware.”

    “That’s what’s so funny,” he said. “I’ve known you for so long, I know your dad works in hardware and you work at Home Depot and yet I never considered we’d have this shared interest. That’s very cool. What are you worried about?”

    “Oh, I don’t know. Getting too involved, I guess.”

    “Well, take it easy. We’ll only get as involved as you want.”

    “Right,” she said. “This is new territory for me.”

    “Me, too,” he said, giving a nod. “I’ve hardly ever dated in my whole life.”

    “There was your wife, who is incredibly beautiful. I think she might be the most beautiful woman in the world.”

    Tom laughed. “You mean my ex-wife? Yes, Becky is very pretty. We’ve been divorced for eight years now.”

    “But you remained very...close.”

    “I’d say we get along pretty well, under the circumstances. But it’s time for me to get on with my life. Becky has definitely gotten on with hers. Listen, if I’m making you feel uncomfortable or pressured or—”

    “I’m not the kind of woman men pay attention to, that’s all.”

    “I resemble that remark,” he said, laughing. “I’m not exactly being chased down by women, but that’s been okay by me. Four kids, a bunch of jobs... Until a couple of years ago when Jackson graduated from high school and Nikki started driving, I don’t know when I would’ve found the time. Things are getting a little less complicated. Finally.”

    “Tom, you’re a very handsome man...”

    “Thank you, Lola. And you’re a very beautiful woman.”

    She laughed at him. “Me? Please!”

    He frowned. “I never suspected you for a lack of confidence. You always seem so sure of yourself.”

    “I am. But not in the looks department.”

    “Why the hell not?” he asked. “You’re gorgeous!”

    “Stop it!”

    “I shouldn’t be surprised,” he said somewhat sadly. “Becky never thought she was pretty enough and there’s no question about it, she’s—Well, this isn’t about her. Here’s what makes you beautiful,” he said. “Your hair is so silky...thick and curly and it kind of makes a guy want to dig his hands in it. Your lips, they’re kind of heart shaped and I don’t think you ever wear makeup—you don’t need to. You have that beautiful, smooth skin, kind of like the sateen paint I like. Velvet skin, red lips, big, dark eyes, and you always smell a little bit like Ivory soap. I’ve always liked that smell so much, it’s so clean smelling. And you’re soft. I hope this isn’t offensive—you’re sexy and buxom in the most subtle, alluring way. I can’t help but imagine what you’d feel like in my arms. That wasn’t a pass, I just mean I can imagine you’d fill my arms and I bet that’s the most amazing, beautiful feeling.