Cadence of Cranberries - Valerie Comer Page 0,24

dated in high school was a hockey player. The Santoro clan is more into basketball — three-on-three, specifically.”

“Ah, I took the coffee truck down to Hoopfest in June. Did a brisk business in frappuccinos.”

“A couple of Santoro teams entered. My boys entered in the Youth Division. They play a lot of three-on-three at the courts under the bridge, over by the community center.”

“How’d they do?”

“They didn’t place, not this year, but they played hard and had fun.” Even Michael had brightened up for a few days. Should she look at putting him in an organized sport? Hmm. She’d have to think on that.

“So, skating. May I pick you up about seven o’clock, or would a different time be better?”

She was really going to do this? She exhaled. Yes, she was. “Seven sounds good.”

“And what time do you turn into a pumpkin?”

Winnie chuckled. “The boys will be home about nine-thirty.”

“Winnie?” His voice was so soft, so near, that she couldn’t help herself.

She turned just enough to see how close he really was. Gray eyes. Straight nose. Full lips. She jerked her gaze back to his eyes.

“I’ll look forward to Friday. Dress warm.” Charlie pressed his lips against her temple for all of two seconds before pulling away. He offered that adorable lopsided grin. “I should go home now. Thanks for... everything.”

Winnie stayed riveted to the stool, watching as he walked into the entry, shrugged into his coat, and pulled on his boots. With a wave and a grin, he went out the door. It shut firmly behind him, and a moment later she heard his Mustang rumble to a start then drive away.

She still couldn’t move. Had she made the right decision? She didn’t even know. How would her boys react? What about her daughters? It wasn’t like she could keep them in the dark. Not if she and Charlie were going on a date in full view of anyone in Spokane who happened through Riverfront Park on a Friday night.

She was going to date a man with a midlife-crisis car? Just another reminder he wasn’t in her league. She shrugged the thought away.

Tomorrow was Thursday. She’d invite Brittany for dinner and tell all four of them then. How would Michael react? That was the biggest question, and she had twenty hours to pray over it. Starting right now, while she cleared the island of tonight’s evidence.

Charlie’d said to dress warm. She’d do it, because it was common wisdom, but she doubted the necessity. Every time she was anywhere near Charlie Jalonen, she was overheated from the inside out. It might be the onset of menopause but, more likely, it was the effect of the man himself.

Chapter Ten

It was quicker to drive around Bridgeview on Charlie’s way home from downtown, but he found himself making the turn toward Winnie’s house. He wouldn’t stop. He’d just drive by like some sort of teenage creeper, checking to see if her car was home.

Dating at fifty-five. What were the rules?

A group of teens hung out at the basketball court under the bridge, shooting hoops. Now that was dedication. The early December temperatures must be cutting through their sweats.

Charlie slowed then came to a stop in front of the community center, lowering his window. Looked like young Michael leaping for a shot that swished through the basket.

Huh. Charlie rolled up his window, shut the Mustang off, and exited. He wasn’t going to make a nuisance of himself, just stand back and see what made the boy tick in his own environment.

A table under a picnic shelter had been heaped with parkas and backpacks. A few adults — parents, most likely — stood nearby. One man nodded at Charlie.

Charlie returned the gesture then watched the skirmish. Yeah, that was Winnie’s youngest, all right, and he was pretty good for a scrawny thirteen-year-old. At that age, Charlie had been too gangly and awkward to risk any sports at all, lest he trip over his newly-formed size-thirteen feet and bruise his ego as well as his body.

“Charlie?”

He turned. The guy who’d acknowledged him looked like one of the Santoro men. Uh... how was he supposed to feel about this?

“Ray Santoro. Winnie’s brother-in-law.”

The pilot. “Right, I remember now.” Charlie jutted his chin toward the court. “You got one out there playing?”

The other man chuckled. “No, my kids are older. The youngest is buried in my basement studying for his bar exams. I come by sometimes to keep up with my nephew.”

“Michael? He looks pretty good there.”

“Yeah, he’s got some