kids when we started out, and we knew people who got married around the same time we did. After seven years, a lot of friends had divorced and a few had already gotten remarried.” He turned from the river to face her. “But we made it, you know? I look back on that, and it’s something that I’m proud of, because I know how rare it was. I never regretted the fact that I’d married her. Never.”
Miles cleared his throat.
“We used to spend hours just talking about everything, or about nothing. It didn’t really matter. She loved books and she used to tell me all the stories she was reading, and she could do it in a way that made me want to read them, too. I remember she used to read in bed and sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night and she’d be sound asleep with the book on the end table with her reading light still on. I’d have to get out of bed to turn it off. That happened more often after Jonah was born—she was tired all the time, but even then, she had a way of acting like she wasn’t. She was wonderful with him. I remember when Jonah started trying to walk. He was about seven months old, which is way too early. I mean, he couldn’t even crawl yet, but he wanted to walk. She spent weeks walking through the house all bent over so he could hold her fingers, just because he liked it. She’d be so sore in the evenings that unless I gave her a massage, she wouldn’t be able to move the next day. But you know . . .”
He paused, meeting Sarah’s eyes.
“She never complained about it. I think it was what she was meant to do. She used to tell me that she wanted to have four kids, but after Jonah, I kept coming up with excuses why it wasn’t the right time, until she finally put her foot down. She wanted Jonah to have brothers and sisters, and I realized that I did, too. I know from experience how hard it is to be an only child, and I wish I’d listened to her earlier. For Jonah, I mean.”
Sarah swallowed before squeezing his arm in support. “She sounds great.”
On the river, a trawler was inching its way up the channel, engines humming. When the breeze drifted in his direction, Miles caught the barest hint of the honeysuckle shampoo she’d used.
For a while they stood in companionable silence, the comfort of each other’s presence cocooning them like a warm blanket in the dark.
It was getting late now. Time to call it a night. As much as he wished he could make the night last forever, he knew he couldn’t. Mrs. Knowlson expected him home by midnight.
“We should go,” he said.
Five minutes later, outside her building, Sarah let go of his arm so she could search for her keys.
“I had a good time tonight,” she said.
“So did I.”
“And I’ll see you tomorrow?”
It took a second before he remembered that she was going to Jonah’s game. “Don’t forget—it starts at nine.”
“Do you know what field?”
“I have no idea, but we’ll be there. I’ll watch for you.”
In the brief lull that followed, Sarah thought that Miles might try to kiss her, but he surprised her by taking a small step backward.
“Listen ...I gotta go ...”
“I know,” she said, both glad and disappointed that he hadn’t tried. “Drive safe.”
Sarah watched him head around the corner toward a small silver pickup truck and open the door, slipping behind the wheel. He waved one last time before starting the engine.
She stood on the sidewalk staring after his taillights until long after he was gone.
Chapter 12
Sarah made it to the soccer game the following morning a few minutes before the game started. Dressed in jeans and boots with a thick turtleneck sweater and sunglasses, she stood out among the harried-looking parents. How she could look both casual and elegant at the same time was beyond Miles.
Jonah, who was kicking the ball with a group of friends, spotted her across the field and ran toward her to give her a hug. He took her hand and dragged her toward Miles.
“Look who I found, Dad,” he said a minute later. “Miss Andrews is here.”
“I see that,” Miles answered, running his hand through Jonah’s hair.
“She looked lost,” Jonah offered. “So I went to get her.”