with. And I’m not going out that much. You are and always will be my priority. You don’t have to like him, you don’t have to approve of him, you only have to be nice to him.”
The doorbell rang again.
“We can be nice,” Amber said. “You better let him in.”
“Right,” Justine said.
“Does Addie know he’s coming over?” Livvie asked.
“I called her and told her. She didn’t seem that happy about it. I promised he wouldn’t stay late.” She smoothed her supershort hair and went to the door.
Logan stood there, two bottles of wine and a bouquet of flowers in his hands. “I was starting to think you changed your mind,” he said.
“No, just briefing the girls.”
He handed her the wine. “Am I allowed in?”
“Of course. Come in.” She stepped aside and said, “Logan, this is Amber and this is Olivia. Girls, this is Logan.”
“You’re my mom’s boyfriend?” Amber asked.
“I am,” he said.
“Well, now...” Justine began.
“Lighten up, Justine, we’ve spent months on the phone and have been out for drinks, coffee, dinner and even a town fair. I didn’t say fiancé, life partner or future wife, but if it takes more to make me a boyfriend...” He whistled. He looked at the girls and winked. “It’s early in the relationship. I might be pushing it to claim boyfriend, but I’m up to the job. Nice to meet you.”
“I’ll pour you a glass of wine,” Justine said. “Red or white?”
He asked for red and then looked at the table. “Nice,” he said, handing the flowers to Amber. Then he looked around the living room, dining room and kitchen. “Just like you described it,” he said. “This looks like a good old house.”
“It’s at least old,” Amber said.
“I live in an old house, renovated and turned into four apartments,” he said. “It’s small but perfect for one person, and I can hear the ocean from my patio.”
“Mom said you’re a cop or something,” Amber said.
“Or something. I was a cop, a detective actually. Robbery. Retired. Now I work as an investigator.” He watched as Amber put the flowers in a vase, then he accepted a glass of wine from Justine. He wandered into the living room and sat on the far end of the sectional. Livvie was wedged into the opposite corner. “Now I do similar work but as a civilian rather than a civil servant. So, which one of you is the senior and which one is the junior?”
“I’m the senior,” Amber said, joining them in the living room. “I’ll graduate this year.”
“Planning on college?” he asked.
“Cal State Berkeley,” Amber said.
“Are you looking forward to it?” he asked.
“I think so,” she said. “I’m glad to be staying in California, but I hope to live on campus eventually. We’re going to need another car. Livvie will still go to our old high school in San Jose, and we won’t be able to ride together anymore.”
“And I’m thinking about the community college for my first year,” Livvie put it. “A lot of people are doing that.”
“Do either of you know what you want to do after college? I had three majors in my first couple of years and still turned out to be a cop, so it’s definitely not required.”
“I have no idea,” Livvie said. “I’ve been saying librarian for a long time because I love to read, but things change. Amber likes clothes.”
“I wish I could find a job wearing them,” she said, making him laugh.
Justine couldn’t have choreographed it any better. He got them talking about themselves first and then before long they were asking him what it was like to be a cop. He spoke freely and openly about some of his experiences while keeping the conversation and stories age appropriate. He told them about a robbery he’d working—the robber had a weapon and forced his way into an occupied home and there was no indication he’d left, yet they couldn’t find him. He was hiding inside the dirty old furnace in the basement