chaise lounges that Julia has arranged next to the pool. I strip off my cover up and lay down, rolling up another towel and placing it behind my head for a makeshift pillow. “This is fantastic,” I announce, feeling the warm sun on my skin. I shield my eyes and do a quick head count: all children are safe and by the looks of it they’re having a wonderful time.
“Are you still really busy, Claire?” Bridget asks.
“Not really. I’ve finished up a lot of my smaller jobs. I’ll add more when the kids go back to school. And I might have an assignment with the police department.”
“Doing what?” Bridget asks, slathering herself from head to toe with sunscreen.
“Designing a new logo. When the officer delivered the speed limit sign the other day we started talking and he asked me what kind of work I did. He told me they were interested in hiring a freelance graphic designer. I submitted a bid.”
“I think someone is a little sweet on our Claire,” Elisa teases. “She’s failed to mention that the officer is ridiculously good-looking and that the speed limit sign showed up mere days after she asked to get bumped up on the list.”
Julia spreads out her towel on the chair beside me and chugs half of her wine. “I want to hear more about this, Claire.”
“Why, are we fourteen?” I ask. “There’s nothing to tell. I’m sure he knows I’m married.” I hold up my left hand. “I’m wearing a ring. He didn’t do or say anything weird. He’s just a nice guy.”
Thankfully, they drop it. What I don’t tell the girls is how much I’ve enjoyed talking to Daniel. How easy I find it. I don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing, the way I do with Chris.
Elisa settles in on my other side. She takes a drink of her tea and asks, “Can you watch Travis for a couple hours tonight?”
“Sure. Send him over,” I say. “We don’t have any plans. Do you and Skip have a hot date?”
“No. We’re taking a class tonight.”
“Couple’s massage?” Julia asks, laughing.
“Maybe Elisa has finally convinced Skip to learn line dancing,” Bridget says.
“No,” Elisa says. “It’s none of those.” She pulls a pair of sunglasses out of her tote bag. “It’s to learn more about getting certified to foster a child.”
I sit up. “Elisa. That’s wonderful.” I lean over and give her a hug. “Are you and Skip thinking of becoming foster parents?”
“Maybe,” she says. “There are so many kids who need good homes. A loving and stable environment. We’re still trying to get pregnant, but I’m starting to think that it’s not in the cards for us. When I mentioned it to Skip I had no idea what he’d say, but he was really supportive. I was worried about Travis, because he’s used to having us all to himself, but he said he always wished he had a brother or sister. We’ll see what happens. Tonight is just to learn more.”
I reach out and squeeze her hand. “You and Skip would be fantastic foster parents.” Bridget and Julia echo my sentiments.
“Thanks,” she says. “We’d try very hard to do our best. I know it won’t be easy.”
“Keep us posted,” I say. “I really hope it works out.”
“Thanks, Claire.”
“Who needs a refill?” Julia asks.
“I’m good,” Bridget says. “I have half a beer left.”
Elisa and I are still working on the pitcher of iced tea, so Julia takes her empty glass into the house and emerges with a refill. At noon, the kids take a break for lunch. We make them get out of the pool while we’re inside Julia’s kitchen making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Julia drops the jar of grape jelly on her ceramic tile floor and it explodes upon impact, making one hell of a mess. It doesn’t seem to faze her, and Bridget grabs a dishcloth and helps her clean it up.
“Do you have any fruit?” I ask.
“There are apples in the fridge,” Julia says. When I grab the apples I notice that the jug of wine on the top shelf, the one that’s
“Are you still really busy, Claire?” Bridget asks.
“Not really. I’ve finished up a lot of my smaller jobs. I’ll add more when the kids go back to school. And I might have an assignment with the police department.”
“Doing what?” Bridget asks, slathering herself from head to toe with sunscreen.
“Designing a new logo. When the officer delivered the speed limit sign the other day we started talking and he asked me what kind of work I did. He told me they were interested in hiring a freelance graphic designer. I submitted a bid.”
“I think someone is a little sweet on our Claire,” Elisa teases. “She’s failed to mention that the officer is ridiculously good-looking and that the speed limit sign showed up mere days after she asked to get bumped up on the list.”
Julia spreads out her towel on the chair beside me and chugs half of her wine. “I want to hear more about this, Claire.”
“Why, are we fourteen?” I ask. “There’s nothing to tell. I’m sure he knows I’m married.” I hold up my left hand. “I’m wearing a ring. He didn’t do or say anything weird. He’s just a nice guy.”
Thankfully, they drop it. What I don’t tell the girls is how much I’ve enjoyed talking to Daniel. How easy I find it. I don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing, the way I do with Chris.
Elisa settles in on my other side. She takes a drink of her tea and asks, “Can you watch Travis for a couple hours tonight?”
“Sure. Send him over,” I say. “We don’t have any plans. Do you and Skip have a hot date?”
“No. We’re taking a class tonight.”
“Couple’s massage?” Julia asks, laughing.
“Maybe Elisa has finally convinced Skip to learn line dancing,” Bridget says.
“No,” Elisa says. “It’s none of those.” She pulls a pair of sunglasses out of her tote bag. “It’s to learn more about getting certified to foster a child.”
I sit up. “Elisa. That’s wonderful.” I lean over and give her a hug. “Are you and Skip thinking of becoming foster parents?”
“Maybe,” she says. “There are so many kids who need good homes. A loving and stable environment. We’re still trying to get pregnant, but I’m starting to think that it’s not in the cards for us. When I mentioned it to Skip I had no idea what he’d say, but he was really supportive. I was worried about Travis, because he’s used to having us all to himself, but he said he always wished he had a brother or sister. We’ll see what happens. Tonight is just to learn more.”
I reach out and squeeze her hand. “You and Skip would be fantastic foster parents.” Bridget and Julia echo my sentiments.
“Thanks,” she says. “We’d try very hard to do our best. I know it won’t be easy.”
“Keep us posted,” I say. “I really hope it works out.”
“Thanks, Claire.”
“Who needs a refill?” Julia asks.
“I’m good,” Bridget says. “I have half a beer left.”
Elisa and I are still working on the pitcher of iced tea, so Julia takes her empty glass into the house and emerges with a refill. At noon, the kids take a break for lunch. We make them get out of the pool while we’re inside Julia’s kitchen making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Julia drops the jar of grape jelly on her ceramic tile floor and it explodes upon impact, making one hell of a mess. It doesn’t seem to faze her, and Bridget grabs a dishcloth and helps her clean it up.
“Do you have any fruit?” I ask.
“There are apples in the fridge,” Julia says. When I grab the apples I notice that the jug of wine on the top shelf, the one that’s
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