by Holly Jacobs
Harry nodded. "The branch is plenty big enough to support any of them."
"Then I guess a swing would be a great addition."
"And it's not in the clubhouse, so I can use it even if it's not a Stella Saturday, right?"
"Right," Harry and Samantha both automatically agreed.
Seton and Shane seemed as if they might object, but when they saw the look in Samantha's eyes they must have thought better of it. "Right," they echoed.
"Mr. Rem, when can you put it up?" Stella asked.
"Tomorrow, if that works for your mom."
The kids all stared at her. She was trapped. "The kids' father has them this weekend. He's coming around seven to get them."
"Maybe next weekend then?" Harry asked.
Samantha could sense the kids were anxious for her to accept. Even if she wanted to, there was nothing to do but say, "Fine. Next Saturday."
"You're sure?" Harry asked, as the three younger children excitedly chattered, and Stan continued to scowl.
"Positive. And I guess, if you were here around one, I'd probably feed you before you had to go to your class."
"You can bet I'll be here."
"You're not going to ask what we're having?"
"It doesn't matter. But if the kids are going to their dad's for the weekend at seven, I should probably let you get things ready. It's almost six."
Harry walked to the door, and Samantha followed. He turned sharply and drew a breath. "I got scared, Sam. It's that plain and simple. The dinner went well, and I can't remember when I've had so much fun. I kept trying to convince myself it was only a dinner, but it was a date. A great date. So, rather than calling and going out again, I froze. I meant it when I said, it wasn't you, it was me."
"I'm pretty sure that phrase is generally considered the kiss of death." Samantha offered him a smile to let him know she was teasing.
"This time, it's simply the truth."
"You didn't call because you enjoyed dinner so much."
"When you say it that way, it sounds stupid." He kissed her forehead. "Did I totally blow it, or can we go out again?"
"Before we do, tell me, Harry, what do you want?" He seemed startled by the question, so she added, "Because I'll tell you what I want. Right now, my focus is on my kids, seeing that they recover from the divorce. And we seem to be heading in that direction. They're better. So, what I want is a man who's not looking for a commitment. Someone who will spend time with me, share a few grown-up conversations. A friend. Someone who isn't looking for a romance, because, Harry, I'm not. I'm not sure if I'll ever be looking in that direction again. And it's not that I'm jaded, that I don't believe in love. I do. I just don't have time for it. I've got work and my kids, even volunteering at the school. A relationship isn't in the cards, at least not now. So, if we did try again, I want to be up front about what I want. It would be casual all the way. That's the way it would have to be. The question is. . .what do you want, Harry?"
"I want to see you again. I want talk to you. To laugh with you. Whether we're here with your kids, or out by ourselves, I want to spend time with you. But you're right, I'm not looking for anything serious, especially not with someone who has kids."
She must have appeared as shocked as she felt, because he added, "I can't do it again, Sam. I've always dreamed of a family, but I've lost two. The first when my parents divorced, and I'll confess, that sounds lame even to me, but it's how I feel. Then there was the family I'd built with Teresa and Lucas. I can't raise a kid as mine, but have no rights, and have him ripped away. So, as much as I want to spend time with you, it has to be casual for me, as well. Just friends."
"So, we've established ground rules. We're not dating, but we are going to see one another. Platonically," she added for clarity. "So, in the interest of seeing one another, why don't you come over next weekend and hang a swing, and we'll go from there."
"Sounds good." He started to walk away. "If I were to call you this week, would you answer?"
"Probably," she said, knowing she was wearing a goofy grin.
Harry nodded. "Good. I'll talk to you later."
Samantha watched him go and smiled. His confession thawed something in her. Harry was just as confused as she was. He was coming out of a long-term relationship, too.
A platonic friendship. And he was leaving in two months anyway.
That made him safe.
Maybe it was cowardly, but safe was all she needed right now.
Chapter Six
It occurred to Harry that he'd fallen into the rhythm of not-dating Samantha. The tree swing had been a huge success, and he'd seen her almost every night since.
He didn't worry about protocols, didn't worry about when it was too soon to call. There was no too soon. He'd leave her house and find himself putting on his Bluetooth so he could talk to her on the drive home.
If the kids were home and still awake, the conversations were invariably interesting, punctuated with things like, "No. Don't you dare put Grunge in the dryer. It wouldn't be anything like a carnival ride," or "Boys, what did I say about using beds as trampolines, especially my bed? . . . Yes, I know it's the biggest bed in the house, but still, no jumping."
Today marked a week since the tree swing, and the whole Williams family was going to the Erie Elementary Halloween party with him. It was the perfect day for it. The trees had reached their peak colors. The sky was blue, with puffy white clouds alternately hiding or framing the sun. The air had moved beyond crisp to downright chilly.
He glanced over at Samantha, sitting in the passenger seat of his red Ford Expedition. He'd bought the SUV when he and Teresa were still together. It had made hauling Lucas and his friends around a piece of cake.
Thinking of Lucas dimmed Harry's mood. This was the first of Lucas's Halloweens he was missing. When Lucas called last night, he'd spent a half hour talking about his cool vampire costume. "I've even got fake blood." Harry had been suitably impressed, and made all the right responses. He'd done just fine, until Lucas ended the conversation with, "I wish you were taking me trick-or-treating." That's when the pain had hit.
Harry forced himself to set last night's call aside and concentrate on today. He was thankful that he'd kept the SUV when he'd moved to Erie. He'd thought about trading it in before he left Columbus, but remembered that in Erie winter came early and sometimes hit with a vengeance; he'd decided to wait until he got home to get another smaller car. He was glad of it now. The third row of seating meant he could fit the entire Williams family in.
"Mr. Rem, can I sit in the back on the way home?" Stella asked from her middle-seat position.
"That was the deal. Everyone has to trade off."
"See?" she called triumphantly to Shane and Seton, the current backseat residents.
"This will only take me a minute," he promised Samantha as he turned onto Grandview Boulevard.
"Harry, it's fine. Go get your camera. We'll only be a few blocks out of our way, and the Halloween party will be there when we get there."
He pulled into the condo's driveway, and slammed on the breaks with a jerk. There was another vehicle in his parking spot.
A familiar vehicle.
His mother's vehicle.
Things had been going so well with Erie Elementary, his classes and not dating Samantha, he'd been feeling upbeat. But at the sight of the car, his spirits plummeted. This could not be good. If his mother had made the four-hour drive from Columbus to Erie without even checking to see what his schedule was, she was on a mission. He could almost feel the bull's-eye on his forehead.
He saw her coming and felt the urge to hum the tune to Jaws. "Sami, I'm sorry."
"Harry, what is it?"
"Harry?" came a high, happy voice.
"Just know I'm sorry in advance," he whispered to Samantha. "It's my mom."
"Harry, don't be silly, I'm sure it's fine."
Knowing his mother, he knew it wasn't. There was that particular gleam in her eye. The one she'd worn when he was ten and didn't
want braces, and she made him. It said, "I'm doing this for your own good." He just wasn't sure what this was yet.
He loved his mom. Adored her actually. However, unannounced visits from Marilyn George were never good things. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
"Surprise," she said as he approached. His mom was still a very attractive lady. She'd never dyed her hair, but rather than making her seem old, the white hair mixed in streaks with her dark hair looked striking.
Striking. That was the best way to describe his mother. Harry didn't know anything about designer clothes, but he knew that his mother's pantsuit wasn't inexpensive. Her haircut and makeup were just so. She was still a beautiful woman, he realized with a sense of pride, although the determined expression she wore made him nervous. "Mom, I wish you'd called. I have an engagement today."
"With the woman in the car?" His mom peered into the car, her curiosity evident.
"That's Samantha. She's an old friend. Her kids attend Erie Elementary. We're all going to the school's Halloween party."
"Harry. . ." There was a flash of something akin to pain on her face, but the next second it was gone and she smiled. "A Halloween party, you say?"
"At the school. For the families."
"Now, isn't that a coincidence. You're the principal, which makes you part of the school, and we're your family, so of course, we'd love to go."
"We're. . .?" he asked.
"You stepfather is in the car."
Harry hadn't even noticed that there was someone in the passenger side. He waved, and his stepfather, Allen George, waved back. "You both came up?"
"Yes. We were hoping to spend some time with you. And a Halloween party is a good way to start. I remember how it goes at schools, they always need volunteers."
He couldn't think of any way out of it. He knew his mother well enough to guess that she wouldn't be talked out of coming to the party. As a matter of fact, odds were she'd be running the whole thing within moments of arriving. "Uh, do you want to follow me, then?"
"I might have moved from Erie years ago, but I can still get around. I remember where it is from here."
"Fine. I guess I'll see you there. I've just got to get my camera." He hurried in and retrieved it from the hook by the door, and came out, expecting his mother to be gone. Instead, she was waiting for him, and rather than heading to her own car, she followed him to his. "Hi, I'm Marilyn, Harry's mother. And you are. . .?"
Samantha smiled. "Samantha Williams. I was Sami Burger back then. I remember you from school, ma'am. You haven't changed a bit."
"You went to Erie Elementary?"
"I was two years behind Harry."
"Well, it's nice to see you again, dear. Maybe we can find a minute to catch up at the Halloween party?"
Samantha nodded. "I'd like that."
Harry was desperate to let Samantha know that if she spent that minute with his mom, Marilyn would pump her for information with all the finesse of a secret agent interrogating a suspect.
"And who do we have here?" his mom asked Stella.
"I'm Princess Stella, and that's Stan, Seton and Shane."
"And do all of you go to Erie Elementary?"
Stella nodded. "Mr. Rem's our principal."
"And I'm Mr. Rem's mom. You can call me Mrs. George." His mom looked at him with quiet speculation in her eyes. "I guess I'll see you all at the party." She waved and hurried back to her own car.
"And that was my mom," Harry said, feeling resigned. He got in the car and took off, cursing himself for forgetting his camera this morning. Otherwise, he wouldn't have known about his uninvited company until tonight.
"Is something wrong?" Samantha asked.
"I don't know. I don't know why she's here."
"She's your mother, Harry. She's here because she loves you. You've been away from home for two months. She probably just wanted to check on you. That's how mothers are."
He knew Samantha was right. His mother did love him. But he wasn't sure she'd ever really understood him. And he wasn't sure she'd ever really gotten over him refusing to leave his grandparents house when she remarried.
"Yes, she loves me, but. . .well, be prepared."
"For what?"
"She's seen you, and even now, she's trying to analyze what that means. She won't understand not-dating dates."
"What's a not-dating date?" Stella asked.
Samantha turned around. "It means, Mr. Rem and I are just friends."
Harry didn't need to turn around and identify who snorted their disbelief. Stan's animosity was clear.
Harry was driving, so he didn't see what Samantha did, but he guessed it was one of those mom-looks because Stan immediately mumbled, "Sorry."
"Well, it's nice that your family can come to the party. And it’s nice Phillip let the kids come with me." Samantha was using the same tone she'd used when she'd tried to convince the kids to try a spinach quiche the other night. It hadn't worked then, either. He and Samantha had eaten the quiche. The kids ate hot dogs. "It's going to be fun."
Harry snorted this time, and at that moment, he knew how Stan had felt because Samantha gave him a look. It wasn't quite a mom-look, but he recognized it as saying she didn't approve of his rudeness.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"Let's all be optimistic," Samantha ordered. When no one replied, she said, "It's going to be a great day."
Harry didn't dare snort again, but he gave Samantha a look that said he didn't have enough optimism to believe her.
SAMANTHA LOVED FALL, and Halloween was a favorite holiday. Last night, the kids had gone trick-or-treating, and today at the party, there would be apple bobbing, Fuhrman cider and Mighty Fine donuts. And just like every year, they'd have pin the tail on the black cat.
She watched as her kids piled out of Harry's SUV. Stella was dressed as a princess. She'd found an old spring-green prom dress at the thrift store, cut it down for Stella, then bought a dime-store tiara.
The boys were dressed in regular clothes. The upper grades were too cool for childish endeavors and no longer wore costumes. She couldn't get over how fast the kids were growing. In another three years, Stella wouldn't be dressing up, either.
The kids all hurried into the school. "Would you rather I waited with you, or should I just go in?" she asked Harry.
"You don't mind waiting?"
She smiled. "No. Not at all. I'm on apple-bobbing duty. After last year's near drowning, everyone realizes that it's a hazardous job. I can use a few more minutes to psych myself up for it."
"Almost drowning?" Harry asked.
"Bobby Brandt. He was determined to get an apple and held his breath so long that he accidentally inhaled the water, then. . ." She didn't finish the story because Harry's mother and stepfather were approaching them.
"Here goes," Harry muttered.
"Hello again, Mrs. Remington." Samantha caught her mistake. "I'm sorry. Mrs. George," she substituted, using the last name Harry's mom had introduced herself with.
"That's all right," Harry's mom said, looking not the least bit bothered. "This is my husband, Allen. Honey, this is Samantha Williams, formerly little Sami Burger. She went to school here at Erie Elementary back when Harry went here."
"It's nice to meet you." Allen George was a comfortable-looking man. He had a well-worn pair of jeans, slightly scuffed brown loafers and a soft-looking flannel shirt that spoke of numerous washings. He had salt-and-pepper hair, muddy grey eyes and a beard that lent a sort of Santa Clausish air to his appearance. "So, I understand we're having a Halloween party?"
Samantha nodded. "It's a school event and I'm on apple-bobbing duty, so I really should get in and help. I just wanted to say hi to you again, Mrs. George, and meet you, Mr. George."
Maybe she could stave off the interrogation Harry had warned her about.
Mrs. George smiled.
Samantha saw a look in Mrs. George's eyes that said there'd be no getting out of their little catch up, so she bowed to the inevitab
le. "I'll see you inside."
"Great." That settled, Harry's mother turned to him. "Now, Harry, give us a tour of the school?"
Harry nodded, and immediately his mother led him into the building. He turned and shot Samantha a little wave.
She followed them, but instead of heading up the stairs to Harry's office, she went down toward the cafeteria and the party.
There was one word that always worked to describe any type of party that included children. . .chaos.
And chaos reigned supreme today.
The cafeteria was decorated with orange-and-black streamers, pumpkins and a wide array of ghoulish figures. Princesses, pirates and a multitude of other costumed children ran from one activity to the next.
Samantha found the apple-bobbing booth, where Michelle and Carly waited for her. "I thought you both were at the face-painting booth?"
"When Heidi saw our first attempts, we were banished." Carly lowered her voice and confessed, "I botched it on purpose. Jonathan Byers was in my line, and last year, he barfed three times. He'd already been through the donut-on-a-rope game twice, so I wasn't taking any chances."
Michelle appeared to be trying to adopt a stern look, but her grin kept peeking through and ruining the effect. "I don't have an artistic bone anywhere in my body. My sister got all those genes." As if realizing what she'd said, a look of sorrow passed over her face.
"How long's it been now, honey?" Carly asked.
"Four years." She stopped and considered a moment. "Almost five years since she died and Brandon came to live with me. More than that since we lived together. It doesn't matter that we hadn't been close. Just knowing she was out there was enough. Just like knowing that now she's not hurts at the weirdest times."
Samantha reached over and gave Michelle a hug. She didn't say anything because she knew nothing she said would lessen Michelle's pain. Sometimes just being there was the best you could do.
"Thanks," Michelle said. "But we have a line."
The next hour went by in the blink of an eye. Samantha was soon thoroughly damp from various children emerging from the water and splashing her. She didn't mind. Everyone's spirits were high, and there were no near drownings.
