The Parent Trap

After letting himself out the back door, he locked it and tucked the key in a pocket inside his waistband. He spent a few minutes warming up before he set off down the driveway at an easy jog. Early morning was his favorite time of the day. Even in the city he’d liked the quiet, cool stillness, but here it was magnified, exaggerated in the best way possible. At the end of the block he turned right and took the steep road that led downhill to the beach, where he picked up the walkway that paralleled the seawall. He nodded at another man jogging in the opposite direction, passed an elderly woman walking a small dog, but otherwise he had the beach and his thoughts to himself.

He ran past the quaint little downtown business district that stretched for six blocks along Shoreline Boulevard and three blocks away from the beach. There it gave way to a mix of old cottages, newer homes and low-rise condominiums. Over the years, residences had slowly crept up the hillside, biting chunks out of the rain forest, affording homeowners spectacular views of the bay and the breakwater. His house was one of those. Moving here felt right, as though he’d finally come home to a place where he belonged instead of being someplace biding his time. Convincing Kate that this was her home, too? That would take some doing.

For the past few days he had pretty much worked from morning till night, and now the furniture was in place, the boxes unpacked, the closets and cupboards full. Kate had hated her bedroom curtains so they’d driven down to Sechelt yesterday afternoon so she could choose new ones. She had asked if Casey could go with them, and he had agreed, although he’d also recalled what Kate had said about their new neighbor after the cookie delivery. She’s probably a geek. Now he wasn’t sure if she actually wanted to be friends with the soccer-playing tomboy next door or if she simply hadn’t wanted to be seen alone with him in public. Either way, he was glad Casey had agreed to join them. She was a nice kid, and unlike some of Kate’s friends in the city, she seemed as though she’d be a positive influence.

And there was no ignoring the fact that her mother was pretty nice, too. Easy to talk to. Very easy on the eyes. Her parenting skills were as enviable as her culinary skills were deplorable, and he had no idea why but he found that charming. Over the past few days, though, he’d only caught rare glimpses of her, and he suspected she might be avoiding him. He regretted his blunt comments the other night. He’d been comparing his parenting to Sarah’s, his daughter to hers, and had fallen short on both counts. He hadn’t meant to sound critical of Kate but he had, and Sarah probably thought he was a jerk. She was right, and he hoped she would accept an apology the next time he saw her.

At the end of the seawall he exchanged a wave with a young couple on the beach whose golden retriever was hauling a stick out of the water. He swung around to make the return trip, laughing as the pair narrowly avoided a shower of seawater as the dog shook out its fur.

Not only did Kate seem to get along with Casey, she liked Sarah, too. She had even hinted that if Jon thought he might like to start dating, then maybe he should think about asking Sarah out. The idea had already crossed his mind, not that he would admit that to his daughter, at least not yet. What if Sarah said no? He would still have to live next door to her and that would, at best, be awkward. Better to wait till he had some sense of what her answer would be.

And then Kate had dampened his enthusiasm by pointing out that it’s not as if her mother were ever coming back. She was right. Georgette was never coming back and the truth was, he didn’t want her to. But dating someone else? Until now he hadn’t been ready to consider it. Kate needed to have one parent who was there for her, and for better or worse that parent was him. He couldn’t focus on being a parent, and maintaining a home for them and reestablishing a career, if he was back in the dating game. There was also the not-so-insignificant matter of figuring out how and where to meet eligible women. But then, on their first day in Serenity Bay, there one was, standing on his porch with a welcoming smile and a plate of really awful cookies. That had immediately been followed by a pizza dinner. Sharing a couple of pizzas with their teenage daughters was not a date. It was simply...a simple dinner. And still he’d managed to mess it up.

During the drive down the peninsula to Sechelt, he had to admit he’d listened shamelessly and with interest to the questions Kate asked Casey.

Did she help her mom at the store?

No. Sometimes Casey went there after school and sat in her mom’s office to do her homework, but working in the store was boring.

Did her father live in Serenity Bay?

No. He’d died. Jon already knew that.

Did her mom have a boyfriend?

No.

If Kate hadn’t already dropped a less-than-subtle hint about him asking her out, he would have thought it a strange question. Casey didn’t seem to think it was but she didn’t elaborate and Kate didn’t ask her to, so he couldn’t very well ask her to expand.

He left the seawall walkway and tried to maintain his pace as he ran back up the hill, turning onto his street, winded, perspiring and ready to take on a new day just as the sun lit up the eastern sky above the Coast Mountains. He still had plenty of time for coffee and a shower before Kate would be up and getting ready for school. He slowed to a walk as he approached his driveway, and pulled up the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat from his forehead. As he let it drop, he glanced at the house next door and was sure he saw a curtain flutter in a second-floor window.

He spent a couple of minutes stretching muscles that hadn’t had a decent workout in a couple of days. While he did, his thoughts remained on the woman next door.

Was she a morning person? Was she a runner as well? She was in great shape for someone who admitted to eating a lot of takeout. Maybe instead of asking her out to dinner, he should invite her to run with him in the morning. Running wasn’t a date, and if she said no, she still might accept an invitation to dinner.

“And you are way overthinking this,” he said, letting himself into the house, inhaling the aroma of newly brewed coffee and the cinnamon scent of whole-grain raisin bread. This weekend, he and his daughter had started a new life. Today he was starting a new job. The other firsts—whatever those might be—would happen in good time. And if a first date was going to be one of them, he had to apologize to Sarah for being a jerk and somehow convince her that he wasn’t.

* * *

SARAH PARTED HER office curtains just enough to watch her neighbor return from his run but not so much that he could see her watching him. His dark-colored knee-length running shorts revealed the muscular calves of an athlete, exactly what one would expect of a high school gym teacher and soccer coach who ran for half an hour in the morning. She’d been downstairs and had caught sight of him as he left and headed down to the beach, and from her deck, coffee mug in hand, she had glimpsed him running along the seawall. Impressive.

Impressive also came to mind as she watched him now through the narrow slit in the curtains. His light blue T-shirt hung loose over the shorts, sweat-darkened in places that emphasized just how fit he really was. And then he pulled up the hem and swiped it across his forehead, briefly revealing strongly rippled abs. Her breath caught, her insides started to hum, then the shirt fell into place and he was gazing up at her window. She took a hasty step back, still a little breathless, still humming, the vision of those delectable abs etched in her memory.

“Mom?” Casey was awake.

Sarah jolted, realizing she’d been frozen in time, one hand pressed to her chest as though that might slow her heartbeat, stop her heart from pounding through her rib cage. The sound of her daughter’s sleepy voice snapped her back to reality. She swung around, quickly turned on her desk lamp and picked up a file folder, fanning through the contents as though searching for something. She glanced up when her daughter appeared in the doorway in purple plaid flannel pajama pants and an old yellow sweatshirt.

“Good morning, sweetie. Excited about school starting today?”

“Yes, but kind of nervous, too. I mean, it’s high school. And Henry isn’t back so I’m kind of bummed about that. He and I always go together on the first day of school.”

Henry, whose family lived across the street, and Casey had been friends forever and they did have a lot in common—straight-A honor students, academically competitive, seasoned bookworms. Outside the classroom, though, their interests couldn’t be more different. Casey was athletic and crazy about animals. Henry was into photography and creative writing. He was also two inches shorter than Casey, and he was the only kid Sarah had ever met who could, and often did, trip over absolutely nothing.