“Yeah?”

  “The point is, it’s complicated.” She sat down with a thud, like all the fight had drained out of her. “Jack’s not just my ex. He’s the father of my children. He’s part of their lives, which makes him part of mine.”

  “So you have to deal with him. That’s not a secret, so why treat it like one? Why put up walls like you’ve got something to hide?”

  Serena didn’t say anything, just stared at her desk. Will shook his head.

  “You want to know what I think? I think this is complicated because you want it to be. ’Cause you’ve still got some feelings, maybe for Jack, or maybe it’s just that you miss being a family. Having a partner, a parent right there for your kids. I get how you’d want that, Mom and Dad back together. Your kids could quit picking sides, no one caught in the middle. You’re not wrong to want that. I won’t get in the way. But, Serena—”

  “Don’t tell me what I want.” Serena stood up, and Will saw she was trembling. She took a quick step toward him, fists clenched at her sides. “All my life, I’ve been told what I can do, what I can’t, what I should want, where I belong. And I’ve gone along with it, but you know what?”

  “What?”

  Serena straightened up quickly, her expression turning blank. “The inspector’s here.”

  For a moment, Will gaped at her. Then he understood, and he snapped to attention. This was it, do or die. An hour from now he’d be in the clear—or he’d have lost everything, no in-between.

  Kenmore took his sweet time unloading his equipment, checking and doublechecking the clipboard on his belt. Serena watched, stomach churning. She thought she might throw up, not from nerves, but from anger, a deep, poisonous rage boiling in her guts. Will had the nerve to call her out for not confiding in him? He’d not only kept Ma’s visit a secret, but he’d lied to her face. He could’ve been honest, but he’d pushed her away. He’d probably claim he’d been protecting her, but she’d had all she could take of other people deciding what she could handle.

  “Doctor Harvey, good to see you. And Ms. Douglas, hello.” Kenmore tipped his hat to her, and Serena smiled back.

  “Can I get you some coffee?”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. Best I get right to work.” Kenmore headed for the basement, Will trailing behind. Serena made to follow them, but Will waved her back.

  “I need you on the phones,” he said.

  Serena returned to her desk. Her face felt hot, flushed with anger and embarrassment. She’d been a part of this, right from the start. She’d booked contractors. She’d helped with repairs. She’d saved Will a bundle, and this was her thanks? Consigned to her desk to wait out the inspection? She frowned at the phone, willing it to stay quiet. She wasn’t sure she could deal with clients right now. If one of them snapped at her, she might just snap back.

  She drew in a deep breath and watched the snow fall. The whole street was piled with it, postcard-perfect white roofs catching the bright noonday sun. Later, the eaves would all twinkle with Christmas lights, and the windows as well, and the streetlight poles. She’d have to drive home through that beauty and cheer, with her heart all in pieces.

  She woke up her computer, just for something to do. She checked all Will’s appointments through the next month, flagging the new clients so he’d know to leave extra time for them. She cleaned out her inbox and emptied the trash, and by the time she was done, Kenmore was, too. Serena strained to listen as he wrapped up with Will.

  “I’d still want to think about upgrading those windows. And that loose tile in your hallway needs gluing down. But those are just details. You’re all up to code.” He clapped Will on the shoulder as they came through the door. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it, but by God, you did.”

  “By the skin of my teeth,” said Will, but he looked pleased. “Do you sign off today, or—”

  “I’ll drop the paperwork by in the new year.” Kenmore snagged a candy cane as he passed the front desk. “For my little girl,” he said, and Serena flashed him a smile.

  “She’s welcome to it. You have a great day, and thanks for the good news.”

  Kenmore let himself out. The bells chimed and went silent, and Serena shifted in her seat. Will wasn’t looking at her. He was studying his receipt, his lips a tight line.

  “Congratulations,” said Serena.

  “Thanks.” Will tucked the receipt away and sidled up to her desk. He smiled, stiff and awkward, and scratched at his chin. “So, uh...”

  “I should probably—”

  “What I said earlier, about Jack. About you keeping secrets.” Will bowed his head. “I guess we’ve both been guilty of that.”

  “I guess we have.” Serena swallowed thickly, tamping down the urge to argue. She’d kept secrets, sure, but Will had kept worse ones. And he’d lied when she’d asked, which was—

  “The thing is, I’ve been wondering, when you talk to Jack, is it just about the kids?”

  Serena bristled. “Excuse me?”

  “You said he’s still in your life because of your kids. So are they all you talk about, or—”

  “No, okay?” Serena surged to her feet. She felt cornered, blindsided, but she wouldn’t lie. “Jack wants us to try again, but I don’t want that. I’ve made that clear to him.”

  “And when you’re with him, it’s always with the kids there, too?”

  Her throat closed up. It had been, up to now, but…

  She cleared her throat and then forced the words out. “We’re having dinner tonight,” she said. She wouldn’t back down now or look away. She had nothing to be embarrassed about, and she wasn’t about to let Will make her feel ashamed. “I’ve told him already, it’s all about the kids. Some things, it’s easier to discuss without them there.”

  “But you’re only telling me now.”

  “When should I have told you? Right before the inspection? When we were painting reception and you barely said two words to me?” Her eyes prickled with tears. “And, speaking of holding back, when were you going to tell me I’m out of a job?”

  “That’s different,” said Will. “I hadn’t decided.”

  “But now you have?”

  Will looked away. “You could discuss your kids anywhere. Your living room. A lawyer’s office. Over the phone, even, but you’re going to dinner.”

  Serena took a deep breath and held it. She could try to explain herself, but she was angry, too angry. The more she said now, the less likely she and Will could salvage even a friendship. She had to get out of here.

  “I kept today free of appointments for you,” she said. “Because of the inspection. You don’t have any patients, so I might as well go.”

  Will nodded tightly, eyes fixed on the wall.

  “I don’t think I’ll come back,” she said. “I don’t think that would work.”

  Will didn’t reply at first. Serena didn’t think he was going to, but he turned to face her as she reached for her coat.

  “I’m sorry it worked out this way,” he said, his voice rough and hoarse. “I’ll come down late tomorrow. You can clean out your desk and leave your key on the counter.”

  Serena just nodded, blinking back tears. She’d thought it might hurt less, since she’d seen it coming, but the hurt, the rejection cut just as deep. Deeper, even, coming from Will. He’d seen her more clearly than anyone else, but still he’d dismissed her. Still, he’d assumed she didn’t know her own mind.

  The door slammed behind her, and she stifled a sob. It was over, truly over, and it hurt like a bitch.

  17

  Will took Luna for a long walk, up and down Main Street and twice around the park. At first, she jumped and bounced, pleased to be out. But when Will threw a stick for her, she ignored it. She thrust her nose into his palm, snuffling hot breath.

  “What is it, girl? Looking for a treat?” He dug out a snausage, but Luna nosed it aside. She looked up at him, anxious, tail swishing between her legs. Her worry for him was palpable. Will knelt and kissed her right between her eyes. He scratched her behind her ears and all round her scruff.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I just got my heart broken. You’ll get it one day. That cute border collie’ll get himself a poodle girl. You’ll see ’em in the park, and your heart’ll just—what am I saying?” He laughed, feeling foolish. “Who’s my number one girl?”

  Luna pricked up her ears. Will gave her more scratches, and she wriggled with bliss.

  “You’re my good girl,” he said. “You’re my number one.” This time, when he tossed the stick, Luna took off running. This relationship, at least, was one for the ages.

  Back home, he fed Luna and filled her water bowl. He went to the fridge, but he didn’t feel like eating. He needed a drink, maybe three or four. He stood brooding a while, weighing the comfort of liquor versus a headache in the morning. The lure of liquor won out, and Will let the fridge swing shut.

  “I’m going out,” he told Luna. She glanced up from her dinner, but only for a moment. Will left her to her munching and headed up Main Street. He kept his head down, ignoring the Christmas lights that festooned every storefront. He’d entertained fantasies of celebrating with Serena, bringing her out to the ranch for a big Harvey Christmas. Now, he supposed she’d be celebrating with Jack, playing happy family under a neat, tasteful tree.

  The bar at the crossroads had Christmas lights in its windows, but inside, it was mostly free of seasonal décor. A lone sprig of mistletoe hung over the emergency exit, and someone had stuck a grinning Santa to the dartboard. Will sat with his back to it, elbows on the bar.

  “Hey, Doc. What can I get you?”

  Will looked up at the barkeep. He knew him vaguely from school—Mike, Mark, Marcel. One of those M names. “I’ll have a scotch,” he said. “Make it a double.”

  Mike poured him a scotch and slid it across the bartop. Will drained half of it at a draught and stifled a cough.

  “Can I get you something to eat with that? Wings? Curly fries?”

  “Just another of these.” Will finished his drink and skated the glass back to Mike, who filled it without comment and made his way down the bar, topping off old man Stein’s beer and mopping up a small spill. The place wasn’t crowded—the girls from Top Hardware had taken over one table and seemed to be toasting their upcoming vacation. An old couple was sharing a plate of curly fries, and over by the window, Doug Hawthorne was reading a paperback, a snifter of brandy forgotten at his side.

  “So, what are you celebrating?” Mike topped up Will’s glass again. Will blinked, surprised. He’d almost drained it without realizing.

  “I passed inspection, which means I’m staying in business,” he said. “Had to break the bank to do it, but check me out, still standing.”

  “You don’t sound so happy.” Mike leaned on the bartop. “In fact, you sound kind of pissed.”

  “I might’ve also got my heart broken. But I’m not angry about that, at least not with her.” Will sipped his whisky, savoring the burn. “Sometimes a good thing’s just not meant to be. Your timing’s all wrong, or you want different things. Or you were fooling yourself, punching above your weight.”

  “You didn’t punch her, did you?”

  Will scowled, indignant, then he realized Mike was joking. He tried to laugh, but it came out harsh, all rough with drink.

  “I was good to her,” he said. “And she was good to me. But I guess the trust wasn’t there, at least not enough. Things went unsaid, the kinds of things you can’t ignore.”

  “You could still talk to her,” said Mike. “Tell her what’s on your mind.”

  Will shook his head. He held out his glass and Mike filled it again. “I’m not who she wants,” he said. “Not that way, at least. I’d like to be friends, but things being what they are...”

  “I’d give it time,” said Mike. “Things often look different in a day or a week.”

  Will nodded, but he couldn’t see a week changing much, or even a month. Jack and Serena had history stretching back to tenth grade. They’d built a whole life together. They had two great kids. Next to that, Will was a footnote.

  “I think I’m done here,” he said. He set down his drink and fumbled for his wallet. It took him a couple of tries to find his pocket, and once he’d got his wallet, he nearly dropped it on the floor. He didn’t drink much or often, and his head felt stuffed with cotton. He pushed a fifty across the bar with a mumbled keep the change.

  “Hey, wait. You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Will hunched up his shoulders, already heading for the door. This had been a mistake. He didn’t feel better, just dizzy and sick. He blundered outside, straight into a man in an ugly Christmas sweater. The guy caught him and steadied him, but Will shook him off.

  “Watch where you’re going.”

  “Me? You’re the clumsy one.” The guy rolled his eyes, and Will wanted to hit him. He spun away instead and struck out for home. He was pissed, he realized, pissed at himself. He’d known it was stupid, pursuing Serena. He’d sworn he wouldn’t, but he had just the same. And now he’d lost her, and—

  He stopped in his tracks, white breath wreathing his head. Across the street, the Good Beet sign was swinging in the wind. Standing underneath it, Will spied Serena. She had her back to him, watching Jack park his car.

  Who picked the restaurant? Did he, or did you?

  Will swallowed sickly. He’d kissed her right there, under that sign. She’d had snow in her hair, and a dusting of it melting on her shoulders.

  Jack locked up his car and went to Serena. He tried to take her arm, but she moved at the same time, heading inside. Will watched as the red door swung shut behind them. This was high school all over again, watching from the sidelines as Jack wooed Serena. She’d held back then too, at least at first, but come the homecoming dance, they’d been an item.

  “Nothing’s changed,” said Will. In the still of the night, his words seemed too loud, his resentment too clear. He ducked his head and kept walking, cheeks flaming red.

  Serena stared at her menu, not seeing it at all. In her head, she was rehearsing how she’d raise the subject of the kids. They were the main thing, not Jack and Sherry, or what he planned to do next. Nathan and Julie needed stability, a home that felt—

  “We’ll get a bottle of your house red,” said Jack. “And bring us some of those beet fries, extra mayo on the side.”

  Serena frowned without meaning to. Jack noticed and cleared his throat.

  “Something the matter?”

  “Red wine gives me hives.”

  “What? It does not.” Jack snapped his fingers, but the waiter was gone. “Since when does red wine give you hives?”

  “Since always,” said Serena. She didn’t want to argue, at least not about that. She reached for a breadstick and broke it in half. “I was thinking, for custody, if you’re staying in town—”

  “Custody? Come on. We haven’t even got our appetizers, and you want to talk turkey?” He shook out his napkin and spread it over his lap. “I’ve been thinking about us, about when the kids were little. You remember that first summer?”

  “I remember it all. But that’s in the past.”

  “Remember that heat wave, when the AC broke? The kids wouldn’t stop screaming, and you were going nuts. And I went to all the neighbors and borrowed their fans—a truckload of fans, so you could get some sleep?”

  “You got those fans from Top Hardware,” said Serena. “I saw the receipt.”

  “Did I?” Jack scratched his head. “Either way, what’s it matter? I brought you those fans.”

  “You did. You were sweet.” Serena’s stomach rolled over as the waiter set down their fries. She watched as he poured Jack’s wine, but she refused a glass of her own.

  “I wanted to toast us,” said Jack. “I guess you still can with water, but—”

  She shook her head. “We’re not an us anymore.”

  “Not now, but we could be.” Jack leaned forward, suddenly earnest. “I don’t just want joint custody. I want to come home every night to hugs from my kids. I want to tuck them in nights, and I want you too. I want what we had. Don’t you want that too?”

  Serena looked away. “I’ve already told you I don’t.”

  “That’s just your pride talking.” Jack reached across the table, groping for her hand. “You’re so fixed on what I did, you’re forgetting what we had. Remember my first promotion, when I got you that necklace? Or the kids’ fourth birthday, our trip to Salt Lake?”

  Serena smiled faintly. She did remember that trip, how it started disastrous and ended so sweet, her and Nathan and Julie watching the sunset over the salt flats.

  “See, you remember.” Jack went for her hand again, gathering confidence. “I packed all those sandwiches so you wouldn’t have to.”

  “And left them out overnight, and the kids both got sick.”

  “But then they got better, and we had a great time. Julie saw that eagle—you remember that?”

  “I do,” said Serena. “But you don’t. You stayed back to work while I took the kids hiking. We saw the eagle, and the ravens, and the desert. Nathan took so many photos he missed half the fun, and he did that for you, so you wouldn’t miss out.”

  Jack’s bright smile curdled. “So you’re better off without me? Is that what you’re saying? Working yourself threadbare paying off that big house? Never seeing your kids, never—”

  “I do see the kids,” she said. “I see them every day. I might not be home as much as I used to be, but you know what? I’m stronger now. I’ve learned to stand on my own, and I can teach them that too. I can show them what’s possible, everything I’d been missing.”

  “Everything you’d been missing.” Jack’s voice had gone cold. “Would that happen to include a certain nerd from the clinic?"

  “Will’s not a nerd.” Serena sat up straighter, anger rising. “He’s a good man, maybe the best I’ve ever known. He’s kind. He cares. And he earned what he’s got. He worked at that clinic since he was a kid, then when Ed retired, he built it back up from the ground. My dad just hired you ’cause you knocked me up.” She realized she was shouting, going too far. She lowered her voice with an effort, eyes fixed on her plate. “People respect Will because he earns their respect. But this isn’t about him. This is about me. I don’t expect you to get that, but—”