Chapter 10

"Just two more months," Justin said.

Emma smiled over her coffee cup. "Yeah, that's right," she said.

"Till what?" Steve asked as he walked into the kitchen, adjusting his tie.

"Till school is out, silly," Seth said.

"Oh, of course."

Steve moved up beside Emma to pore himself a cup of coffee. He touched her lightly with his elbow and smiled when she looked up at him. She smiled back.

He was trying, she had to give him that much. He had been home at a decent hour more often in the past month. And he tried to be involved when he was home, instead of setting himself apart with his cellphone stuck to his ear. It was the little things, she knew. The little things that made the biggest difference.

"What's the plan for this summer?"

"Soccer," both the boys cried at the same time.

Emma shook her head. "Can't you just enjoy sitting in front of the television like every other kid your age?"

"Of course not," Steve said as he walked over to the table and ruffled Seth's hair. "Our children are extraordinary."

Seth pulled away, self-consciously straightening his thick curls while Justin dissolved into a gale of laughter. Steve looked at Emma, his eyebrow raised, as if asking when their son had become so aware of his appearance. Emma shrugged, though she had an idea that it had something to do with a pretty little blond named Stevie in his art class.

"I guess I better get the paperwork over to the youth league, then," Steve said.

"Go brush your teeth," Emma told the boys as she gathered up their cereal bowls. One of the construction workers stuck his head through the plastic that still covered the entrance into her studio, an apologetic smile on his lips. Emma held up her coffee cup and he nodded before backing away.

"I'll be home early," Steve said to her back as she poured four mugs of coffee. She glanced over her shoulder and nodded. "Do you want help?"

"Yes," she said, gratefully.

"You know, you're too nice. They should bring their own coffee."

"They do," she said as she carefully lifted two of the mugs, "but they usually have it drunk by now."

Steve stood shoulder to shoulder with her as he lifted two more mugs. He rubbed her arm in a way that made her think the movement was intentional. He was doing things like that a lot lately. But in the bedroom, when they were alone and she was more than willing to accept any kind of touch he had to offer, he kept to his own side of the bed.

It was confusing. And more than a little frustrating.

They carried the mugs into the studio. They were making good progress. It was supposed to be done more than two weeks ago, but a problem with the permits had slowed things down some. But the walls were up now and they were installing the windows this afternoon. With any luck, they would have the doors hung and the water on by the end of the week.

Steve had McWhorter show him around while Emma went back into the house to hurry the boys along. They were waiting for Steve by his car when he finally came out, briefcase in hand. Emma watched him walk toward them, thinking how professional he looked. For a long time she still saw the carefree football player in his eyes, but that was gone now. Real life had replaced the frivolity of their past.

She was sad to see it go.

"In the car, boys," he said as he came alongside Emma. He touched her hip where her thin, cotton shorts rolled with the movement of her body. "Do you think we could go to dinner tonight?" he asked quietly. "There are some things I want to talk to you about."

Hope bounced in her chest as she looked into his eyes, as she saw a familiar glint there. "Sure," she said.

He raised his hand to her cheek, brushing away a few curls blown out of her pony tail by the brisk, spring wind. Then he kissed her, a soft brushing of the lips that stole her breath for a moment.

If only she had known it would be their last.