LITMIR.BIZ

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not a religious person. Never brought up that way.” She shrugged. “El must have thought I needed to take a look. I couldn’t say no, but it’s all rather difficult for me.”

      She looked away a moment, and though he sensed he should respond, he was at a loss for words.

      “I will admit that El had some solid attitudes about God and faith. Things I’ll ponder, I think.”

      “Faith is different for each person. I think it happens in its own way. I grew up in a home where church was a normal Sunday activity. I went to Sunday school and sometimes the adult services. I believe, but even I find it easy to skip church sometimes, especially since I moved. I need to look for a home church.” A rivulet of guilt ran through him. “I’ve passed so many here in Owosso. I think there’s one on every other corner.” Though he chuckled, his discomfort didn’t fade. “I try to go most Sundays when I have a church family.”

      “Family?” She shrugged.

      “It feels like a family and it’s a meaningful break in the week.”

      “I imagine it is. Music and readings. Those things can draw a mind away from day-to-day troubles.” She patted the Bible and pulled her hand away as if it had burned her. “Any news from Kimmy’s mom?”

      He drew his focus from the Bible to Nina, noting a look of discomfort on her face. “I talked with her yesterday.” A pang of sadness whipped through him, mixed with concern. “She’s in therapy now, but I don’t think she can stay by herself yet even if she comes home. It sounded as if she’ll go into an inpatient rehabilitation facility for physical and occupational therapy before they release her.” His throat caught as he absorbed the issues continuing to grow. “Our mother lives a number of miles away but she wouldn’t be much help, and I work every day.”

      “I’m sure a facility would be the best for her, Doug. She’ll get good treatment.” She searched his face, her own growing taut before she glanced out the window. “Doug, you’ve never mentioned Kimmy’s father. Is he anywhere in the picture?”

      His mood darkened. “Never. He’s never seen Kimmy. I don’t know if he ever knew about her. Roseanne never talks about him.”

      “She’d never married or—?”

      “That’s right. She took a chance, and Kimmy happened. She won’t talk about it so I don’t know a thing about him.”

      “That’s hard.” She appeared thoughtful. “Does Kimmy ever ask about him?”

      He shrugged, hoping to hide his dark feelings. “I guess she has but Roseanne concocted some story. I think she said he died.”

      “One day when she’s older Kimmy will want details. How he died. When? Did he love her? All those things we all want to know about our parents.”

      “I agree, but Roseanne only shakes her head and ignores me. She’ll do what’s right when Kimmy’s older, I hope.”

      “I think she will. Truth from a mother with her child is important.”

      Letting the subject fade seemed his best move, and he gazed out the window and a grin broke the tension. “Kimmy’s chasing something in one of the bushes.”

      Nina craned her neck to look outside “She seems to be doing well. She’s adjusted. It’s better for her to stay with you.” Nina looked away a moment. “And you know, Doug, Kimmy’s a bright little girl, and I fear she might feel too much responsibility and even guilt if she went home with her mother still needing care. I don’t suppose you want to hear that.”

      “I’ve thought about that, too.” He forced his eyes to stay connected with hers. “But I’m worried how to work it out. I can’t take a leave, Nina. It’s not feasible. Yet I’m the only one Roseanne can count on.”

      “I wish I had the answers.” A distant look filled her eyes, but then she brightened. “I realize we’ve only met, but she’s a sweet girl and... I’d be willing to help in any way I can.”

      Her concern for Kimmy touched him, and he wondered why she didn’t have children, but he knew better than to even hint at the question. “I’m sure you’re right, and thanks for your offer.”

      The subject weighed on him, and he opened his mind to allow another thought to slip from his memory. “Isn’t Angie and Rick’s wedding soon? I overheard something on Friday. For a while, I thought they were already married, but obviously they’re not. He always goes home at night.”

      Nina laughed. “They’re ones who follow their religion, I think.” She shook her head. “But that’s wise.”

      She quieted again, and he wished they could recapture the easy, casual relationship they’d had when they first met.

      Finally she broke the silence. “I was surprised when I received a wedding invitation. We’ve only known each other a short time, but we clicked, I guess. I like Angie and Rick. Carly’s a doll, too. She’ll be their flower girl.”

      “I thought flower girls were toddlers who cry and run back to their moms.”

      She laughed. “Sometimes, yes, but this is a wonderful way to include her in the ceremony.”

      “It is. I was being silly.” He grinned, glad his remark had broken the tension.

      She studied him for a moment. “Do you get upset by personal questions?”

      He managed to lasso his laugh, recalling her idiosyncrasy. “Not usually, but I’d say it depends on what kind of personal question.”

      She sent him a half grin and glanced out the window again. “I know you’re single, but I can’t help but wonder why.”

      “I ask myself the same question. I mentioned once that life got in the way. And there’s truth to that. My dad was ill for a long time, and I did what I could to help my parents. Mom wasn’t that healthy either, and Dad needed to be lifted or helped to stand. He lost both legs to diabetes.” Those horrible days resurfaced, bringing pain with them. “Dad was a man’s man. Wouldn’t listen to my mom or the doctor’s warnings. He thought he could beat all illnesses, but he couldn’t. Strange how we do that, isn’t it? We know what’s best, but we ignore it.”

      Her face darkened a moment, and he feared he’d done it again. “Nina, I’m sorry if I—”

      She held up her hand. “No. It wasn’t what you said. There’s truth to that. I’ve been bitter for years over my failed marriage, and yet when you said we know what’s best but we ignore it, it struck home. The divorce was probably for the best under the circumstances.”

      Questions flew to his tongue but again he refrained from uttering even a small question. Her marriage seemed to cause the last bugaboo, and he’d already spilled out too much of his life. He forgot they were virtual strangers. They’d met a short time ago, and yet it seemed as if it had been forever.

      She eyed him as if wondering why he’d become silent.

      He buried his question. “It’s good sometimes to look back with fresh eyes. I think with most things, time clears our heads and we can face things differently. We let the blame go and focus on the result or the possibilities.”

      “Possibilities. That’s sort of like hope, isn’t it?”

      “I suppose it is.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “I still hold out hope that one day in the near future I’ll find the right person.” What had he said? His mouth flapped without control. He’d spent much of his life preoccupied with everyone but himself. Where had those feelings come from?

      And yet he knew. He studied her, admiring her light brown eyes that crinkled when she smiled and her intriguing wavy hair.

      “For some people that’s a real hope.” She lifted a finger. “Let me check on the time. I still need to add something to the slow cooker.” She rose and hurried away.

      He

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