15 Valentine Place

Shane nodded, then extended his hand toward his son. “Come on, Mickey. We need to get Uncle Dylan’s luggage. Do you have your mittens?”

“They’re in my pockets.”

Shane looked at Dylan’s short-sleeved shirt. “I don’t suppose you own any winter clothes.”

“It seldom goes below seventy-two in Saint Martin,” he said with a half smile.

“You can probably buy a parka in one of the shops here at the airport. They’ve practically made this place into a shopping mall.”

Dylan gave his brother’s shoulder a playful punch. “You’re dealing with an ex Boy Scout. Remember our motto? Be Prepared.” He grinned. “I have a leather jacket in one of my suitcases.”

“Then we better go.” He looked down at Mickey. “Take my hand so you don’t get lost,” he instructed as they merged into the crush of people heading toward the baggage claim area.

The four-year-old not only grabbed on to his father, but Dylan as well. His tiny hand felt soft against Dylan’s palm. As they walked through the crowded concourse, Dylan thought about how familiar yet how strange he felt walking alongside Shane and Mickey. Looking at his brother, he felt that thirteen years hadn’t passed, yet all he had to do was look at his nephew to realize how much everything had changed.

Feeling the need to make small talk, Dylan asked, “How have things been going for you?”

“Not bad,” Shane responded.

“How’s Jennifer?”

“She’s good. You’ll see for yourself. She’s at the house with the rest of the women. Maddie’s doing her thing.”

Maddie. There was that name again. Whenever Dylan had spoken to his mother in the past two years, that name had crept into the conversation. Even Garret had mentioned her when he’d called.

He had to ask, “Who’s Maddie? One of the college students living with Mom?”

“She lives with Mom but she’s not in college. You’ve met her…Maddie Lamont. She came and stayed with us one summer. Long hair pulled back in one of those big clips, glasses, real skinny.”

“Are you talking about that scrawny little Madeline from North Dakota? The one who was always dancing even when there wasn’t any music playing?”

“Yeah, only she goes by Maddie now.”

“She showed me how to dance. Want to see?” Mickey dropped both hands and began to wiggle.

“Not now, Mick. We’re in the middle of traffic,” Shane said, grabbing his hand and getting them moving again.

“She was a couple of years younger than I was so she must be what…late twenties?” Dylan tried to remember the summer she’d stayed with them.

Shane shrugged. “Somewhere around there.”

They passed another set of windows and Mickey said, “Oh-oh. It’s snowing again.”

Dylan asked, “You like the snow, Mickey?”

“Yeah, but Daddy’s gonna get crabby because he hates driving when it’s snowin’ out.”

Shane met Dylan’s glance. “The roads are actually in pretty good shape considering the storm that passed through here.”

Feeling as if he’d imposed on his brother, Dylan said, “You didn’t have to come get me. I could have taken a taxi to Mom’s.”

“If Mom had thought you were taking a taxi, she would have changed her plans and come and picked you up herself.”

Again Dylan wondered about those plans, but before he could ask, Mickey announced in an urgent tone, “Daddy, I have to go to the baffroom.”

They had reached the baggage claim area and Shane turned to Dylan. “Why don’t you find your luggage and I’ll meet you back here after I’ve taken him to the men’s room?”

Dylan nodded just as an alarm sounded indicating the bags would soon be tumbling down the conveyor belt. As he watched a steady stream of suitcases go by, his thoughts wandered back to that summer when Madeline Lamont had shown up at the house.

He remembered his mother giving him and his brothers orders that they were to treat her as if she were their sister. Dylan knew it was a warning not to think of her as a possible girlfriend—as if he, a senior in high school, would ever consider dating a freshman.

Once he’d seen what she looked like, he knew there was little chance of his being tempted to regard her as anything but a friend of the family’s. Shane was right. She’d been as thin as a post and about as shapeless. She’d looked to be all arms and legs as she twirled and spun her way through the house.

As he hoisted his luggage from the carousel, he remembered something else about her, too. She was smart. She could beat Garret at chess—something neither he nor Shane had been able to accomplish. And when his mother had trouble doing the crossword puzzle in the Sunday paper, Madeline was the one she’d ask for help.

Skinny, smart, shy Madeline.

She’d never been particularly friendly toward him. Actually, when he thought about it, she’d treated him with a disdain he hadn’t understood. Not that it had mattered at the time. She was closer to Garret’s age than she was to his and those two had gotten along just fine.

“Got everything?” Shane interrupted his musings.

“Yeah. Just let me get my jacket out of my suitcase.” When he had the dark brown leather jacket zipped up, he said, “Let’s go.”

On the way to his mother’s house, Shane talked to Dylan as if he were a visitor, telling him about the local professional sports teams’ successes and pointing out changes to the Twin Cities skyline. Listening to him made Dylan realize just how little attention he’d given to what had been happening to his family while he’d been in Saint Martin. It wasn’t that he hadn’t cared, because he had. But work had always taken precedence over everything else in his life, including his personal relationships.

Not wanting to be treated like a stranger, he said, “Shane, I can read about the basketball team in the paper. Tell me what’s been happening with Mom and the rest of the family.”

“What do you want to know?”

He shrugged. “The usual stuff. What’s this new job Mom has? She said something about writing a column for the paper?”

“Yeah, she really likes it.”

“What kind of column is it? Helpful household hints?”

“She hasn’t told you what she writes?” he asked with a frown.

“Is it a secret or something?”

He shrugged. “No, but since it’s her work, she should probably be the one to tell you about it.”

His comment only intensified the feeling Dylan had that he wasn’t a family member returning home, but rather a guest coming to visit. Determined not to be put off by his brother’s attitude, he asked, “What about her renting out rooms to college students? Has that been working out all right?”

“Sure, it’s been good for Mom. Are you worried about having to stay in a house full of women?”

Dylan chuckled and, before he could respond, his brother added, “Now that was a dumb question, wasn’t it? Since when have you ever objected to being around women?”

“I love being around them. Living with them is another thing,” he said with a sly grin.