“Bye, Joe,” I called, my hand at the door and his eyes hit me.

“Tonight, buddy,” was his farewell.

I nodded and walked to my car.

I was getting in deep and I knew it. I liked him and I liked him more every time I was with him. Now I liked that my girls obviously liked him.

But that wasn’t where it could go, not for Joe who was happy with me sleeping in his bed after I’d been out on a date with another guy, something I wasn’t happy with, something that hurt.

And I knew it would never go there unless I fixed him and I had no idea how to fix him but I had the strong suspicion that trying would be even more heartbreaking because I suspected, no matter what I tried, I’d fail. It might even be devastating when I failed, not only for me, but for my girls who’d said a lot when they cooked Joe bacon.

I looked at my purse, reached out and pulled out my cell.

Then I continued on my path of doing stupid, crazy, selfish shit that made me a bad person.

I slid it open, scrolled down to “Mike’s cell”, a number I’d programmed into my phone after he called me the first time. Then I hit go.

It rang once, only once, when Mike answered.

“You all right?” he asked as a greeting.

He knew about the box.

“You know about the box,” I said just to confirm.

“Colt called. I’m at the Station now. They’re goin’ over it for prints.”

Shit. He’d gone into the Station on his day off because he heard about my box.

“They find anything?” I asked.

“They’ve lifted a few, gotta put them in the system.”

“Okay.”

“You all right?” Mike repeated.

“No.”

His voice was gentle when he said, “Sweetheart.”

I sighed into the phone.

“Where are you now?” he asked.

“What?” I asked back.

“I’ll come get you. We’ll go get lunch or a coffee at Mimi’s or somethin’.”

He didn’t want me to be alone and freaked, more clear cut evidence he was a nice guy, a good guy, maybe a great guy. More clear cut evidence that I was a terrible person, keeping him on a string instead of cutting him loose until I figured out where my head was at and could give him what Joe called “a clear run”.

“I’m at the garden center, I have an afternoon shift,” I told him.

“I’ll come over tonight,” he told me.

I closed my eyes and sighed again.

I didn’t need Joe at the breakfast table and Mike at the dinner table. Further, my girls didn’t need that.

“As far’s I know, both girls are home tonight, Mike, and I’m not sure they’re ready for that,” I said softly.

“Your call, sweetheart, but you want company or need to talk, you know how to find me.”

“Thanks, um… actually, that’s why I’m calling.”

“Yeah?”

“Well,” I started, “see, I haven’t told the girls about the box and I don’t know if I should. They saw the flowers but they don’t know about the box. They acted okay after the initial freak out of the flowers but I know it bothered them. Nothing’s happened in awhile and back home in Chicago, the flowers, gifts and visits were regular. They might think it’s tailing off and, well…” I closed my eyes tight again then opened them and finished, “I’m a Mom, Mike, I don’t want them to have to worry about this but I don’t want them to forget to be vigilant or to be angry with me that I kept this from them. They’re not adults but they’re not young anymore. I don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t tell them,” Mike advised immediately and I blinked at this advice, which was contradictory to Joe’s.

“You think?”

“This shit was goin’ down with Audrey, I’d tell Jonas, but no way in hell I’d tell Clarisse.”

“Why not?”

“Know you’re strong, figure you got strong girls, you’ve all been through a lot. But girls are girls, boys are boys. Jonas would want to do his bit, even if it couldn’t be much, to take care of his Mom. He’s gotta learn to be a man and, you’re unlucky enough that shit like this comes up, that’s the way you learn. Clarisse needs her head filled with thoughts about butterflies and teenage vampires for as long as she can think about butterflies and teenage vampires.”

Like Kate and Keira were to Tim, Clarisse was Daddy’s Little Girl.

I felt my stomach flutter.

But I said, “That’s kinda sexist, Mike.”

He didn’t take offense, mainly because he didn’t agree with me and he thought he was right.

I knew this because he said firmly, “That’s the way it is, honey.”

I didn’t reply as it hit me. I’d asked him because he was Mike, he was a parent but I also asked him because his opinion would likely be the same as what Tim’s opinion would be if he’d been alive. He might not know my girls like Joe did, but it was important to me to know what Tim would do and Mike just told me. It was good to know, except now I was more confused than ever at what to do with the girls because, even knowing, I wasn’t certain I agreed. It wasn’t like I agreed with everything Tim thought either.

Mike went on. “But, I don’t know your girls. You gotta do whatever you think is right, and Vi?” he called my name and stopped talking.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever you do will be right, sweetheart.”

I felt tears fill my eyes because this, just this, was exactly what I needed to hear and I whispered, “Thanks, honey.”

“I wanna see you, make sure you’re all right. I’ll stop by Bobbie’s sometime today.”

“Okay,” I agreed immediately, selfishly and stupidly.

“Got the kids this week, but they’re all over the place all the time so I could take you to Frank’s one night this week.”

“I don’t know my schedule, my brother and his girlfriend are coming into town next weekend and I’ve gotta ask Bobbie for a change.”

“Find out, you can tell me when I stop by.”

“Okay,” I agreed, again immediately, selfishly and stupidly then I said, “I have to get to work.”

“All right, I’ll let you go,” he replied then said softly, “Hang in there, honey.”

“I’ll try.”

“Later, sweetheart.”

“Later, Mike.”