Days Like This by Laurie Breton Page A

kind of normalcy, she’d still felt
isolated, her life devoted exclusively to her husband, her daughter, her
songwriting.  His career.  There had been no girlfriends, nobody to laugh or
vent with about the trials and joys of marriage and motherhood.  Nothing more
than a nodding acquaintance with any of her neighbors. 
    Her best friend, her only real friend,
had been Rob.  She’d been friendly with his first wife—the four of them had
lived together in New York during that brief marriage—and later on with Kitty
Callahan, a singer she met on Danny’s first tour.  But neither of those superficial
relationships had ever developed into real friendship, and she hadn’t realized,
until now, just how much she’d missed the company of other women.
    She sensed Rob’s presence an
instant before he slipped an arm around her from behind, took her hand in his,
and fluidly danced her from side to side in time with the music playing on the stereo. 
“Excuse me, ladies,” her husband said, “but I need to borrow my wife for a
second.”
    At least one pair of eyes watched
in appreciation as he spirited her away from the group and halted a few feet
away, where they could speak privately.  Over her shoulder, he glanced at the
group of women.  “I’m sorry to drag you away,” he said.  “You looked like you
were having fun.  Listen, I can’t find Paige.  Do you know where she is?”
    “I’m sorry, I forgot to tell
you.  She’s not here.  She left with the boys an hour ago.”
    He raised both eyebrows.  “You
let her go off with them?”
    She reached up to straighten his
collar.  “Stop worrying.  She’s perfectly fine.  Mikey and Luke are both good
kids, and Mikey’s a careful driver.  He won’t let anything happen to her.”  At
his stricken expression, she moved her hand to the back of his neck and began
to rub it.  “You know how bored the kids get at these gatherings.  They never
stick around for long.”
    “I know, but it was never my kid not sticking around before.”
    “She’s fifteen.  Yes, we have to
keep her on a leash, but unless she gives us some reason not to trust her, we want
to keep that leash relatively loose.  With kids, you have to choose your
battles.  It’s a trade-off.  Giving in on the little things helps you to build
up more ammunition for the big things.  And believe me, there will be big
things.  You just have to follow your instincts, because it isn’t always easy
to tell the difference between the two.  But if she wants to leave an adult
party to go into town for a burger with her cousins, I don’t see any reason to
tell her no.”
    “We have burgers right here.”
    “When did you turn into such a
curmudgeon?  Have you forgotten what it was like to be a kid?  Did you want to
hang out with your adult relatives and their friends when you were fifteen?”
    He sighed.  “You’re right.  I
know you’re right.  Why is it so hard to accept?”
    Still rubbing his neck, she said,
“It’s a heavy responsibility you’ve taken on your shoulders, the responsibility
for somebody else’s life.  It’s scary.  Just remember, you’re not bearing it
alone.  I’m right here with you, taking half the load.”
    He wrapped his arms around her
and she rested her cheek against the front of his shirt.  “I feel eyes on us,”
he said.  “Why are they watching us?”
    She raised her face to his.  “They’re
just jealous because I have the hottest date here.”
    He let out a soft, choked laugh. 
“You are so full of shit, Fiore.”
    “But I made you laugh, didn’t I?”
    “You did.  So what’s the real
reason they’re staring at us?”
    “They’re just jealous because I
have the hottest date here.”
    He rolled his eyes.  “I am not
hot.”
    “Oh, stop it, Mister Broken
Record.  You know as well as I do that women find you attractive.  And they’re curious
about us.  It’s natural, isn’t it?  The places we’ve been, the things we’ve