Right Next Door (11 page)

 

As Robin was running the bath, Jeff raced up the stairs. “Mom, I need money for the movie.” He thrust her purse into her hands. “How much are you giving me for goodies?”

“Goodies?”

“You know, popcorn, pop, a couple of candy bars. I'm starving.”

“Jeff, you haven't stopped eating all day. What about the two hot dogs I just fixed you?”

“I ate them, but that was fifteen minutes ago. I'm hungry again.”

Robin handed him fifteen dollars, prepared for an argument. That amount should be enough to pay his way into
the movie and supply him with popcorn and a soda. Anything beyond that he could do without.

Jeff took the money from her and slowly shook his head. “That's it, kid,” she said in a firm voice.

“Did I complain?” Bright blue eyes gazed innocently back at her.

“You didn't have to. I could see it in your face.”

Jeff was ready to leave a few minutes later, just as Robin was getting dressed. He stood outside her bedroom door and shouted that Kelly and her mom were there to pick him up.

“Have fun. I won't be any later than ten-thirty,” she assured him.

“Can't I wait for you over at Cole's after the movie?”

“Absolutely not!” Robin's heart skidded to a dead stop at the suggestion. The last person she wanted to face at the end of this evening was Cole Camden. “You didn't ask him, did you?”

“No…but I'm not all that excited about going to Kelly's. I'm there every day, you know.”

“Sweetie, I'm sorry. I promise I won't be late.”

“You're sure I can't go over to Cole's?”

“Jeffrey Leonard Masterson, don't you
dare
bother Cole. Do you understand me?”

He blinked. She rarely used that tone with him, but she didn't have the time or energy to argue about this.

“I guess,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “But could you make it home by ten?”

“Why ten?”

“Because I don't want to do anything stupid like fall asleep in front of Kelly,” he whispered heatedly.

“I'll be back as soon as I can,” Robin said.

Glancing at her clock radio, she gasped at the time. She was running late. From the moment she'd made the arrangements to meet Frank, she hadn't given the reality of this evening much thought. Just forcing herself to go through with it had depleted her of energy.

Robin had always hated situations like this. Always. She was going to a strange restaurant, meeting a strange man, and for what? She didn't know.

Tucking her feet into her pumps, Robin hurried to the bathroom to spray on a little perfume. Not much, just enough to give herself some confidence. She rushed down the stairs and reached for her purse.

Her hand was on the doorknob when the phone rang. For a moment, Robin intended to ignore it. It was probably for Jeff. But what if the call was from her parents? Or Frank—calling to cancel? Ridiculous though it was, each ring sounded more urgent than the last. She'd have to answer or she'd spend all evening wondering who it was. Muttering under her breath, she dashed into the kitchen.

“Hello,” she said impatiently.

At first there was no response. “Robin, it's Cole.” He sounded nothing like himself. “I lied.” With that the line was abruptly disconnected.

Robin held the receiver away from her ear and stared at it for several seconds. He'd lied? About what? Good heavens, why had he even phoned? To tell her he'd lied.

There wasn't time to phone him back and ask what he'd meant.

 

“Would you care for something to drink?” Frank Eberle asked, glancing over the wine list.

“Nothing, thanks,” Robin said. Frank had turned out to
be a congenial sort, which was a pleasant surprise. He was quite attractive, with light blue eyes and a thick head of distinguished-looking salt-and-pepper hair. Angela had once mentioned he was “a little bit” shy, which had panicked Robin since she was a whole lot shy, at least around men. The way she'd figured it, they'd stare at each other most of the night, with no idea what to say. However, they did have Angela in common. Whereas with Cole, all she shared was—

Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt. She refused to think about her neighbor or his last-minute phone call. She balked at the idea of dining with one man while wistfully longing for another—which was exactly what she was doing.

Robin studied the menu, pretending to decide between the prime-rib special and the fresh halibut. But the entire time she stared at the menu, she was racking her brain for a topic of conversation.

Frank saved her the trouble. “For once,” he said, “Angela didn't exaggerate. You're a delightful surprise.”

“I am?” It was amusing to hear him echo her own reaction.

Frank nodded, his smile reserved. “When Angie phoned earlier in the week, I wasn't sure what to expect. She keeps wanting me to date her friends. And to hear her talk, she's close friends with dozens of gorgeous women all interested in meeting me.”

Robin grinned. “She should run a dating service. I can't tell you the number of times she's matched me up with someone, or tried to, anyway.”

“But you're a comfortable person to be around. I could sense that right away.”

“Thank you. I…wasn't sure what to expect, either. Angela's raved about you for weeks, wanting to get the two of us together.” Robin glanced from the menu to her companion, then back again. She felt the same misgivings every time she agreed to one of these arranged dates.

“I've been divorced six months now,” Frank volunteered, “but after fourteen years of married life, I don't think I'll ever get accustomed to dating again.”

Robin found herself agreeing. “I know what you mean. It all seems so awkward, doesn't it? When Lenny and I were dating, I was in high school, and there was so little to worry about. We knew what we wanted and knew what we had to do to get there.”

Frank sent her a smile. “Now that we're older and—” he paused “—I hesitate to use the word
wiser
….”

“More sophisticated?”

“Right, more sophisticated,” Frank repeated. His hand closed around the water glass. “Life seems so complicated now. I've been out of the swing of things for so long….”

The waitress came for their order then, and from that point on the evening went smoothly. The feeling of kinship she felt with Frank astonished Robin. He was obviously at ease with her, too. Before she knew it, Robin found herself telling him about Cole.

“He sounds like the kind of guy most women would leap off a bridge to meet.”

Robin nodded. “He's wonderful to Jeff, too.”

“Then what's the problem?”

“His wife and son.”

Frank's mouth sagged open. “He's married?”

“Was,” she rushed to explain. “From what I understand, his wife left him and sometime later his son died.”

“That's tough,” Frank said, picking up his coffee. “But that was years ago, wasn't it?”

“I…don't know. Cole's never told me these things himself. In fact, he's never mentioned either his wife or his son.”

“He's
never
mentioned them?”

“Never,” she confirmed. “I heard it from a neighbor.”

“That's what's bothering you, isn't it?”

The question was sobering. Subconsciously, from the moment Robin had learned of Cole's loss, she'd been waiting for him to tell her. Waiting for him to trust her enough.

Frank and Robin lingered over coffee, chatting about politics and the economy and a number of other stimulating topics. But the question about Cole refused to fade from her mind.

They parted outside the restaurant and Frank kissed her cheek, but they were both well aware they wouldn't be seeing each other again. Their time together had been a brief respite. It had helped Frank deal with his loneliness and helped Robin understand what was troubling her about Cole.

The first thing Robin noticed when she pulled into her driveway was that Cole's house was dark. Dark and silent. Lonely. So much of her life had been like that—before she'd met him.

She needed to talk to him. She wanted to ask about his phone call. She wanted to ask about his wife and the son he'd lost. But the timing was all wrong.

For a long moment Robin sat alone in her car, feeling both sad and disappointed.

Heather greeted her with a smile and a finger pressed to her lips. “Both kids were exhausted. They fell asleep in the living room almost as soon as we got back.”

After Jeff's busy day, she could hardly believe he'd lasted through the movie. “I hope he wasn't cranky.”

“Not in the least,” Heather assured her.

Robin yawned, completely exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to escape to her room and sleep until noon the following day.

“Would you like a cup of coffee before you go?” Heather asked.

“No, thanks.” Robin had been blessed with good neighbors. Heather on her right and Cole on her left….

Together Robin and Heather woke Jeff, who grumbled about his mother being late. He was too drowsy to realize it was only nine-thirty or that she'd returned ahead of schedule.

After telling Heather a little about her evening, Robin guided her son across the yard and into the house. She walked upstairs with him and answered the slurred questions he struggled to ask between wide, mouth-stretching yawns.

Tugging back his quilt, Robin urged him into his bed. Jeff kicked off his shoes and reached for the quilt. It wasn't the first time he'd slept in his clothes and it probably wouldn't be the last.

Smiling to herself, Robin moved quietly down the stairs.

On impulse, she paused in the kitchen and picked up the phone. When Cole answered on the first ring, she swallowed a gasp of surprise.

“Hello,” he said a second time.

“What did you lie about?” she asked softly.

“Where are you?”

“Home.”

“I'll be right there.” Without a further word, he hung up.

A minute later, Cole was standing at her front door,
hands in his back pockets. He stared at her as if it had been months since they'd seen each other.

“You win,” he said, edging his way in.

“Win what? The door prize?” she asked, controlling her amusement with difficulty.

Not bothering to answer her, Cole stalked to the kitchen, where he sank down in one of the pine chairs. “Did you have a good time?”

She sat down across from him. “I really did. Frank's a very pleasant, very caring man. We met at the Higher Ground—that's a cute little restaurant close to the
BART
station and—”

“I know where it is.”

“About your phone call earlier. You said—”

“What's he like?”

“Who? Frank?”

Cole gave her a look that suggested she have her intelligence tested.

“Like I said, he's very pleasant. Divorced and lonely.”

“What's he do for a living?”

“He works for the city, I think. We didn't get around to talking about our careers.” No doubt Cole would be shocked if he knew she'd spent the greater part of the evening discussing her relationship with
him!

“What did you talk about, then?”

“Cole, honestly, I don't think we should discuss my evening with Frank. Would you like some coffee? I'll make decaf.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

Robin ignored the question. Instead she left the table and began to make coffee. She was concentrating so carefully on her task that she didn't notice Cole was directly behind
her. She turned—and found herself gazing into the darkest, most confused and frustrated pair of eyes she'd ever seen.

“Oh,” she said, startled. “I didn't realize you were so close.”

His hands gripped her shoulders. “Why did you go out with him?”

Surely that wasn't distress she heard in Cole's voice? Not after all that casual indifference this afternoon. She frowned, bewildered by the pain she saw in his eyes. And she finally understood. Contrary to everything he'd claimed, Cole was jealous. Really and truly jealous.

“Did he kiss you?” he asked with an urgency, an intensity, she'd never heard in his voice before.

Robin stared, frozen by the stark need she read in him.

Cole's finger rested on her mouth. “Did Frank kiss you?” he repeated.

She shook her head and the motion brushed his finger across her bottom lip.

“He wanted to, though, didn't he?” Cole asked with a brooding frown.