“No, although I think a more accurate description of you would be his benefactor.”

“Well, I do have great expectations.”

Chapter 5

The following Saturday I drove MJ and Sofia to the Wellstone Center again because Richard had promised Jayden he’d take him to a job fair and Tim was home watching the rest of the kids. My heart still raced when I drove up the Center’s long driveway, but the palpitations didn’t last as long as they had the week before. Again I waited with MJ and Sofia on the patio until Maria and Dr. Simpson appeared and led them inside. This time while I sat under the shade tree, I looked up from my phone every few minutes to make sure Dr. Stetler wasn’t nearby.

When their visit with their mother ended and I asked MJ how it went, this time he answered me.

“S’okay. Can we get lunch? I’m starving.”

I took that as a good sign.

After lunch I drove MJ and Sofia back to Tim and Richard’s house. This time both of their cars were parked in the driveway.

“Perfect timing,” Tim said, as the three of us filed into the kitchen. The counter was covered with sliced bread, salad fixings, and an assortment of meats, cheeses, and condiments. “It’s Make Your Own Sandwich Day.”

“I’m in,” MJ said, grabbing a plate.

“You just ate!” Only half an hour ago he’d wolfed down a chicken sandwich, waffle fries, and a large drink. Sofia had only eaten a handful of chicken nuggets, but she didn’t want a sandwich. Instead, she headed straight for the cat, who saw her coming and hid under the sofa.

“So?” MJ said, slapping lunchmeat onto a slice of bread.

He ate more than anyone I knew, but like most teenage boys, his body burned up the calories. He was also getting taller and starting to fill out. I wasn’t rail thin anymore either, but since all my clothes still fit me, I didn’t feel guilty plucking a chocolate chip cookie off the dessert plate.

After each child, except Sofia who was down on her knees in the living room meowing at the cat to try to lure him out from his hiding place, had made a sandwich Richard ordered them all into the backyard with their plates. “I just vacuumed,” he said apologetically. “I can’t face all the crumbs again.”

“Trust me, I understand. I love a clean house.”

“See?” Richard said to Tim. “I’m not the only one.”

“She lives alone, darling. We have six children. Clean is a concept you need to let go of.” Then Tim turned away from Richard and rolled his eyes. “Tonight’s the big night, right?”

“If by big night, you mean my date with Daniel, then yes.”

“And what are you wearing?” Tim asked.

“I’m not sure.” I’d been worrying about it all week. I’d even went shopping after work one night, but I couldn’t find anything I liked. Maybe it would’ve helped if I knew what I was looking for. “Can I just wear pants, or do I need to wear a dress?”

“Dress,” Richard said, at the same time Tim said, “Pants.”

“She’s got great legs,” Richard told him. “She should show them off.”

“A dress will make her look like she’s trying too hard,” Tim replied, then turned to me. “Unless he’s taking you somewhere fancy.”

“I have no idea where we’re going.” After I nixed the bike ride, I’d suggested dinner. Daniel said he’d make a reservation, but he didn’t tell me where.

Tim pursed his lips. “He’s a high school math teacher. I’m not thinking he’s splurging for fancy on a first date. Go with business casual.”

“Business casual,” I said to myself as I stared at my side of the walk-in closet. I could’ve spread my clothes out to Jonah’s side of the closet, but I hadn’t. I also hadn’t slept on his side of the bed.

After trying on several combinations of pants and shirts, I finally settled on dark jeans, a red silk tank top, and high heels. I’d texted Daniel earlier and offered to meet him at the restaurant—a good way to find out where we were going without having to come right out and ask—but he’d just texted me back and said he was happy to pick me up at my house unless that would make me feel unsafe. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t trust him, so I agreed.

Daniel arrived promptly at seven-thirty wearing gray cotton pants and a black button-down shirt. Apparently, he was going for business casual too.

“You look great,” he said as I pulled the front door shut behind me.

I probably did compared to the way I’d looked at the beach. My hair wasn’t in a ponytail and my face wasn’t shiny from sunscreen. I was even wearing makeup and jewelry.

Daniel walked me to his car, which he’d parked next to my SUV in the driveway. That’s Jonah’s spot. Then I banished the thought from my head. “Where are we going?” I asked as he held open the passenger-side door.

“The Stoned Crab. You’re not vegan or vegetarian, are you? I probably should’ve asked sooner.”

“Nope, just allergic to seafood.”

“You’re kidding. I can’t believe—”

I smiled. “I am kidding. I’m fine with seafood.”

He stood with his hand on the door frame. “Fine with seafood. That’s not the same as actually liking seafood.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and thumbed the screen as he spoke. “I don’t know why I didn’t ask you what kind of food you like. That was stupid of me. Let me see where else we can get in.”

“Daniel, I’m great with the Stoned Crab. Really.” The last time I’d eaten there was the night I’d been released from the Wellstone Center, but I’d try not to think about that.

We were seated at a table next to the windows. Had we arrived thirty minutes earlier, we would’ve been able to watch the sunset. But by this hour it was already dark and the marine layer had rolled in, so the view was of a dark sky filled with clouds. We both studied our menus as if we were going to be quizzed on them. After the waiter took our order, we sipped our water and stared out at the starless sky.

“I really should’ve planned this better,” Daniel said.

I felt sorry for him. It was obvious he was trying. He’d even ordered a ridiculously expensive bottle of wine. Jonah would not have approved. Then I banished thoughts of Jonah from my head.

“I used to be a planner,” I said, “but not anymore. I’m much more impulsive now.”

“Really?” He seemed genuinely intrigued. “Why?”

I was saved from having to answer by the waiter who brought our wine.

The alcohol helped, as it usually does. The conversation flowed more freely after we’d both consumed a glass of wine. Mostly I asked Daniel questions because I preferred listening to him talk then divulging information about myself. He told me he’d grown up in Santa Veneta but moved to northern California for college and then got a job in Silicon Valley after graduation. He’d only moved back to Santa Veneta last year.

“Were you a teacher in Silicon Valley too?”

“No, a techie.”

That explained the wine. And the Tesla. I’d wondered how he could afford such an expensive car on a public-school teacher’s salary. “Like Mark Zuckerberg?”

Daniel laughed and I focused on his full, pink lips and his straight white teeth. Did he whiten them or did they just look that bright because his skin was brown from the sun?

“Sorry,” he said, “I’m not a billionaire. But I have met the guy.”

“Really?” I’d been joking about Mark Zuckerberg. I knew some wealthy people, but they were multi-millionaires, not billionaires. “What’s he like?”