LITMIR.BIZ

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years.

      Claire wasn’t sure exactly what Livvy’s natural hair color was. That, too, had changed frequently over the past eight years since they’d bought Dearly Beloved together. Today it was I Love Lucy red with threads of acid green and was piled on top of her head like a volcanic eruption.

      Somehow, Livvy made it all work.

      “Vee!” Ethan squealed, and he rushed out to greet Livvy. She scooped him up, spun him around and made piggy snorting sounds while she kissed his neck.

      Ethan laughed like a loon, and Claire lapsed into a smile despite that abdominal knot. Yes, Livvy always made it work not just with her son and hair but also with everything else. Livvy created magic.

      “I’ve got something for my favorite boy,” Livvy announced. She set him back down on the porch and plucked a silver toy car from her cleavage.

      Another squeal from Ethan. Another laugh. God, he was such an easy kid to please. Despite the car stash he already had on the porch and in the house, he obviously thought this one was special.

      “And this is for you, Claire. I stopped at the grocery store for this.” Livvy held up a bottle of wine, the sweet, cheap stuff they both favored. She gathered Claire into her arms, smacked a kiss on her cheek and added in a whisper, “These two saw me in town, and I wasn’t able to shake them.”

      Of course, Livvy didn’t actually whisper it softly enough for Daniel and Trisha not to hear her. Which was probably Livvy’s intent all along. She played a little passive-aggressive with people she didn’t like.

      “Claire,” Trisha said, obviously taking Livvy’s cue and hugged Claire, too. She looked as if she were about to head off to a photo shoot for Chanel number whatever. Smelled like it, too. “We came to check on you. To make sure you weren’t wallowing in your grief.”

      “No wallowing,” Claire assured her, sounding as genuine in her response as Trisha had been with the comment.

      No genuineness whatsoever.

      Daniel stayed back, waiting his turn, and when Trisha stepped away, he moved in for his own hug. “Good to see you, baby,” he said in a real whisper, and he went in for a kiss. Not a cheek smacker like Livvy, but the real thing.

      Claire felt her muscles go stiff. Felt that knot in her stomach tighten. Nerves, she assured herself. Not repulsion.

      Daniel stepped back, taking in everything with a sweeping glance. Her shorts and top. Bare feet. Ethan’s car menagerie. The boxes she’d been sorting through. The bits of wallpaper stuck to her hair and face.

      “I thought you’d be further along in clearing out this stuff,” he commented.

      Daniel started a lot of sentences with those three words, including the contraction—I thought you’d. Anything that came after that would almost certainly be a drawled dressing-down that he would then punctuate with a smile.

      Right on cue, he smiled.

      Livvy wasn’t the only one who liked to play the passive-aggressive game.

      “I’m making progress,” she assured him though it didn’t look like it at the moment.

      This latest round of boxes was mostly paper—more calendars, magazines and old bills. Claire had put some rocks and terracotta pots with dead plants on top of the various piles to keep the wind from blowing anything away.

      “Did you find the letter?” Livvy asked. She had plopped herself down on the porch with Ethan and the cars and didn’t seem to notice the way her question snagged Trisha’s and Daniel’s attention.

      “What letter?” the pair asked in unison.

      Claire had to shrug. “It was just something Gran mentioned on a calendar. But she never gave me a letter.” She waited to see if either of them knew anything about it, but Trisha had moved on to checking her phone and Daniel was more interested in observing her half-up, half-down ponytail.

      “I thought you’d have called me by now,” he said. The smile came just as the now was slipping from his mouth.

      The mess on her porch actually came in handy. “I’ve been busy.”

      He made a sound that could have meant anything and picked up the folder beneath the pot holding a dead spider plant.

      “How’s Ethan doing with the Little Genius kits?” Since Daniel had been the one to recommend them, he clearly had an interest in them.

      Claire made a so-so motion with her hand.

      “Maybe I can give it a try. Sometimes boys respond better to a man’s voice.”

      She would have liked to challenge that, but Daniel did do a lot of reading about child development. More than she did.

      Daniel took the picture on top, van Gogh’s Starry Night, and he held it up. “Ethan?” Of course, he had to repeat it because Ethan was bashing his new car into the old ones. By the time he’d said Ethan’s name four times, Daniel’s voice was more of a bark.

      “Remember the FUN! part of this,” Claire mumbled to herself.

      Ethan finally realized he was being summoned and looked at the picture. “Money!” he yelled.

      “He means Monet,” Claire translated.

      “No.” Daniel drew that out a few syllables, probably not nearly as frustrated with Ethan as he was with not proving the point about that whole male-voice thing. “Try again.”

      “Riley!” Ethan shouted. And no Ri-wee, either. This was very, very clear.

      Trisha and Daniel turned to her so fast that Claire heard necks pop. “Riley’s been working with him on these?” Daniel’s question sounded a lot like a jealous accusation.

      Which it probably was.

      “Of course not,” Claire answered. “Riley’s recovering from his injury. He doesn’t have time to play with Ethan.”

      Daniel looked at her as if he expected her nose to start growing. But it wasn’t a lie. It’d been three days since Riley’s visit, and he certainly hadn’t played with Ethan then. Riley had fixed Ethan’s car and then left looking as if he was about to collapse from the pain.

      “Give me that.” Livvy craned her long, lithe body up enough to snatch the picture from Daniel. She didn’t even have to say Ethan’s name to get his attention. “Okay, see this.” She held up the toy van.

      Claire nearly confessed that she’d already tried that, but she decided to watch and see how this played out.

      Livvy tugged off one of her shoes, wiggled her toes and put the van right next to all that wiggling.

      “Van Gogh!” Ethan squealed.

      Claire laughed.

      But Daniel huffed. “How does that help him, giving him a clue like that?”

      “Seriously? It helped because he got it right.” Livvy put her shoe back on, plucked another car from her cleavage—a candy-apple-red Mustang—and gave it to Ethan. “Here’s your prize for guessing right.” That brought on more squeals of delight, more giggling.

      More huffing from Daniel.

      And a bitchy look from Trisha. “What else do you have in there?” Trisha tipped her head to Livvy’s boobs.

      “A picnic basket.” Livvy stood and patted Trisha’s arm, and Claire could almost feel the condescension coming. Livvy looked at Trisha’s breasts, which were impressively sized but looked more like fried eggs when compared with Livvy’s. “Maybe you can try growth cream on them or something. Then you’ll have a place for a Lunchable or maybe just some Goldfish crackers.”

      Time for some interference since Trisha was no doubt gearing up her bitchy-response generator. Claire looped her arm around Livvy’s waist. “Livvy and I will get some iced tea.”

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