The Parent Trap

Jon swung around. “Ah. Yes. Two pizzas, please. Extra large.”

Paolo was back in the kitchen, throwing dough as he chuckled to himself, and Maria’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she jotted his order on a notepad. “Bella donna,” she said. “Una buona mamma.”

His Italian was far from fluent but he knew enough to know that the softly spoken phrases did not translate to Neapolitan or prosciutto with caramelized onions. And pizza was all he wanted. Just pizza.

* * *

SARAH PARKED IN the driveway between her place and her new neighbor’s. Jonathan’s place. Randomly stacked cardboard boxes, empty, she presumed, littered the porch, and a pair of bicycles leaned against the rail.

Maria and Paolo were about as subtle as a ton of bricks. While she’d stood there in the restaurant, with the pair of them grinning shamelessly and Jonathan waiting expectantly, the suggestion that they share a meal had seemed like a good one. Mostly she’d been thinking about her daughter. Sarah loved that Casey was content to march to the beat of her own drum, but a mother always wanted her daughter’s adolescence to be different from hers. Sarah had been the quiet kid, the wallflower. The first one everyone thought of when they needed help with homework or the gym decorated for a school dance. The last one considered when sleepovers were planned and party invitations sent out.

Sarah knew she couldn’t arrange “play dates” for a teenager, but it might be good for Casey to have someone close to her own age, a classmate, living next door. And maybe for Kate, too. The poor girl had looked lost and sullen, like a kid who could use a friend.

So far today, Eleanor Bentley and Maria Donatelli had not-so-subtly hinted about how nice it was for Sarah to have a handsome, eligible man living right next door. Silly romantics, both of them. Yes, Jonathan seemed to be a nice man, and yes, he was one of the most attractive she’d ever met. Did that mean she would toss common sense out the window, risk everything she’d worked so hard for? Absolutely not. She and Casey had a good life, a secure life, and she wouldn’t jeopardize that for anyone, no matter how dazzling his cool blue eyes might be.

Sarah let herself in the front door, set her handbag and keys on the hall table, and made her way to the kitchen with the pizza. Casey had set out plates, glasses and napkins on the island, but she was nowhere to be seen. Sarah switched the oven on low, shoved the pizzas inside to keep them warm, and took two more sets of dishes out of the cupboard.

She dashed upstairs and found Casey sprawled on her bed, earbuds in her ears and head bobbing to music as she scanned the screen of their iPad.

“What are you working on?” Sarah asked from the doorway.

Casey glanced at her and smiled.

“There are so many animals at the shelter right now. It’s crazy. I’m posting pictures of them on Facebook so everyone can see how adorable they are and maybe decide to adopt one of them.”

“That’s a great idea.” Which meant Sarah would see them, too, because one stipulation of her daughter’s being on Facebook was allowing her mom to have full access. A stipulation that Sarah took full advantage of, including checking the privacy settings periodically to make sure only her daughter’s friends had access to the things she posted. “Is there a picture of Petey?”

“No. I’m starting with the older animals because they’ll be harder to adopt.”

Putting up photos of the animals was a good idea, although Sarah knew exactly why Casey hadn’t included Petey’s picture. She wanted to adopt him. There was no time to go there right now, so Sarah changed the subject. “We’re having company for dinner tonight so I need to get changed and get back downstairs.”

Casey’s expression changed in an instant. “Company? We never have company.”

“Of course we do. Your grandparents come to visit twice a year.” One week at Christmastime and two weeks in early July.

“Grandparents aren’t company, they’re family.” Wary now, Casey swung off the bed and faced her. “Who’s coming for dinner?”

“The new neighbors, Jonathan and Kate. I ran into him at Paolo’s. He was picking up pizza, too. It seemed the neighborly thing to do since they’re not settled in yet.”

“Are they going to watch the movie, too?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Twilight might not be his thing, but you and Kate can watch it.”

Casey responded with an adamant head shake. “No. You and I watched the others together and I want us to watch this one, too. Besides, she might not have seen the first three, and you can’t watch them backward.”

It was impossible to believe there was a teenager on the planet who had missed those movies, but her daughter’s insistence on watching this one with her lightened Sarah’s heart.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_381ddea6-bb31-5899-8092-818418a31263)

THE INSIDE OF the car now smelled every bit as good as the pizzeria, making Jon’s mouth water and reminding him how many hours it had been since he’d last eaten. He pulled into the driveway next to Sarah’s car, grabbed the boxes and took the front steps two at a time. Now to break the news to Kate that they were having dinner next door. Would she react favorably? He hoped so. It’d been a long day and he wasn’t up for a fight, or even a disagreement.

He unlocked the front door and pushed it open. “Kate? I’m home.” He held his breath till he heard her response.

“Be right down, Dad!”

Encouraged by her pleasant tone, he set the pizzas on top of a stack of boxes still waiting to be unpacked. He hoped she wouldn’t make a fuss about going next door to eat, and he hoped she’d make an effort to get along with Sarah’s daughter, because he was looking forward to having some adult company.

She was smiling when she joined him at the bottom of the stairs. “Mom called,” she said.

Thank heaven for small miracles. “The two of you had a good talk?”

“Yeah, we did. She apologized again for not making it back to Vancouver this summer. She thinks maybe Thanksgiving or for sure Christmas.”

Georgette’s “for sure” was as good as a “maybe,” but this wasn’t the time to dwell on the negatives. “Who knows,” he said. “She might make it for both.”

Kate shrugged. “I doubt it. She said she’ll book rooms at the Hotel Vancouver and we can spend Christmas there. You, too.”

“Oh, that sounds...nice.” Not. He couldn’t imagine anything more excruciating than spending the holiday with Georgette and Xavier. Lucky for him, that was months away and plenty could change between now and then, Georgette’s mind being one of them.

“Right now we have a more immediate invitation. I ran into our neighbor—Sarah—at the pizza place and she invited us to have dinner over there. I told her we would. I hope that’s okay with you.”

She shrugged again. “Sure. Do we need to take anything?”

He picked up the pizza boxes and held the door for her. “Just these.”

On their way to the house next door, she chattered about her new room and how she nearly had all of her stuff organized. She had even sent a couple of pictures to her mom, who thought the room looked great.

Jon made a mental reminder to send Georgette a text message after dinner and thank her for getting in touch with Kate. He liked seeing their daughter like this, almost effervescent, especially compared to her earlier funk.

They climbed Sarah’s front steps and rang the doorbell. The prospect of having dinner with a beautiful woman, teenagers notwithstanding, had improved his outlook, too. And his mood ratcheted up a few more notches when Sarah opened the door. Since he’d bumped into her half an hour ago, she’d undergone a head-to-toe transformation from ultrachic businesswoman to a hip-looking young mom in navy jeans and a creamy yellow lace top that flared below her waist. The diamonds dazzling her ears matched the rhinestones that studded her flip-flops.

Her smile was warm and genuine. “We’re really glad you could join us,” she said.

He smiled back. So was he.

* * *

AN HOUR LATER, Sarah watched Casey polish off her fourth slice of pizza. She said she wanted to try one of each, and to everyone’s apparent surprise, she’d succeeded.

“I have to go upstairs and feed my critters,” she said, tossing a balled-up napkin into one of the empty boxes. “Would you like to come with me?” she asked Kate.

“Critters?” There was no mistaking the uncertainty in the girl’s voice.

“That’s what I call them. My mom says she’s allergic to cats and she won’t let me have a dog...” During a drawn-out pause, she narrowed her eyes at Sarah. “So I have other animals in cages and aquariums.”

“Any snakes?” Kate asked. “Those are gross.”

Casey shook her head. “No. I mean, I don’t think snakes are gross, but my mom would never let me have one of those, either.”