Dillon responded immediately, squirming in her lap where they’d been snuggled for ten minutes to quiet him for the night. She should be annoyed, since it was almost time to put her son down. Instead her heart shimmied in her chest at the thought of a visit from Guy. She kept her seat, waited for the knock, didn’t want to seem as if she’d been expecting him. But truth be told she’d been thinking of him since they’d said their goodbyes at New Harvest. At home, during their favorite dinner of tomato soup and grilled cheese, Dillon had pointed toward the front door and asked for Guy repeatedly. It was the same pitiful way he called for his Cookie Monster doll when it fell out of the crib at night. Her spirit was torn and the wound worsened by the minute. Just as Phillip would never come home, Guy would never be hers. And she’d discovered never was a long, long time. He could only be a friend passing through her life, helping to smooth the way as much as she’d let him. That was all he was willing to give and she had to accept it just like the hopefuls who’d gone before her.
