baby doll. Where’re Maeve and Gran?”
Aislin jerked a thumb over one shoulder. “They’re coming.”
All at once Arden was overcome with an urge to squeeze her daughter, so strong it nearly overwhelmed her. She gave in to it, wrapping her arms around the girl and doing what she called “squeezing out the juice.”
“Mo-oom,” Aislin complained, then squeezed her in return.
Even as a toddler, Aislin had always patted the back of anyone she hugged. That simple gesture nearly undid Arden now. She fought back tears and kissed her daughter’s cheek. “What are you guys going to do tonight?”
“Gran says she and Grampa are going to let us stay up all night.”
Arden, who knew both her girls would be sacked out by half past eight, didn’t let on that sounded like a tall tale. “Really? All night?”
Aislin nodded, then leaned in to whisper, “And have popcorn.”
“Sounds like fun.” Wish I were going to be there, Arden thought, her stomach taking another twist at her upcoming night.
“Mommy?”
“Hmm?” she answered as she snipped off the last few threads and tidied up her workspace.
Aislin toyed with a bit of lace hanging out of Arden’s scrap box. “What are you doing tonight? Working?”
Arden took a deep but silent breath. “No. I think I’m going to go out with some friends. A friend.”
Aislin frowned, the tiny crease above her brows making her look so much like Jason that Arden again wanted to weep. “A boyfriend?”
Arden coughed. “No, honey.”
Aislin looked up then, blue eyes narrowed in concentration. “Because Samantha from day camp says when her dad and mom got divorced, her mom got a bunch of boyfriends right away. And you haven’t had any.”
Arden knew Samantha’s mom; had, in fact, gone to high school with her. Sherry Smith had had a lot of boyfriends in high school, too. “I didn’t get divorced from Daddy, honey. It’s a little different.”
“Samantha says her mom says she can’t stand to be without a man.”
Arden bit her lip. “Some women can’t, Aislin.”
“Can’t what?” This from Maeve, who’d barreled through the door with her typical sturdy gait.
“Not have a boyfriend,” said Aislin self-importantly.
“Is that so?” Bev, Arden’s stepmother, said as she followed Maeve. She gave Arden a look with raised brows.
Arden stood to give Bev a hug. “So says Samantha’s mom, anyway.”
“Mommy doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Maeve said, hand on her hip.
“No,” said Arden, catching Bev’s eye. “I don’t. Tell you what. Why don’t you girls run in the back and make sure I didn’t leave anything in the dressing rooms, okay?”
Arden wasn’t quite sure why Aislin and Maeve loved to play in the twin closets the shop used for changing rooms, but they headed off in a flash of giggles and trampling feet.
“That’ll take about ten minutes.” Bev stared after them fondly. She gave Arden a familiar penetrating look, the same one she’d used on nights of missed curfews and suspiciously mussed hair. “What’s up?”
“Aislin wanted to know what I was doing tonight,” Arden explained as she finished cleaning her workspace, crossed to the door and flipped the Closed sign so it showed through the glass. “I told her going out with a friend. She wanted to know if it was a boyfriend.”
“Ah.”
Arden realized all at once where she’d learned that simple one-word answer.
Bev looked over Arden’s shoulder to make sure they were still alone. “But you’re not.”
Arden shook her head. “No!”
Bev smiled. “Honey, it’s okay to go on a date. It’s been a long time. If you’re ready—”
Arden’s mother had run off to “find herself” when Arden was three. Arden’s dad had married Bev five years later. Though Bev was not the woman who’d borne her, she’d been Arden’s mother since childhood. She’d never known another mother and, while she and Bev had matured into a satisfyingly adult relationship over the years, there were still some things Arden was not about to discuss with her. Sex being one of them.
“It’s just another date,” she said quickly. “Not a boyfriend. I’m not ready for that.”
Bev gave her another long stare. “Arden, you know I lost my husband before I married your dad, don’t you?”
“Of course.” Bev’s first husband had been killed in a car accident. “Do you know how old I was when that happened?”
She’d never thought about it. Though she’d never called her by the title, Bev had always been Mom, ageless, the same now as she’d been the first time she met her, only now with a few more gray hairs and wrinkles.
When she didn’t answer right away, Bev answered for