She smiled faintly. “Don’t you know that moms never get sick? We don’t have time.”
“That must explain it, then.” He let his eyelids drift downward. “Go home to your kids, Teresa. They need you.”
Maybe it was that compulsively maternal side of her, but she didn’t like leaving Riley alone and ill. As she quietly let herself out, she found herself wondering if Riley O’Neal ever really needed anyone—and if he would ever admit it if he did.
With the amazing resiliency of childhood, Mark and Maggie rebounded quickly from their illness. By Thursday Maggie was back in school, and Mark returned Friday, letting Teresa get back to work. She knew Riley was feeling better, too, because she had checked on him several times during the past couple of days to make sure.
She was greatly relieved that she had managed to avoid becoming ill. Despite her bravado to Riley and her almost obsessive hand-washing while she was taking care of her sick children, she had been afraid the virus would get to her. Apparently her luck had held this time.
Business was brisk at the diner Friday. She was warmly welcomed back by the customers who had come to expect to see her there.
Though serving was a physically demanding job and often stressful during the main rush times, she enjoyed her work. She liked visiting with the customers, getting to know the regulars, hearing the local gossip flowing so freely from table to table. The flexibility Marjorie offered her was another definite perk. She was never going to get rich waiting tables, of course, but she was getting by well enough for now.
She offered to work Saturday to make up for the days she’d missed, but Marjorie told her that wasn’t necessary. Because she’d spent several days at home that week, the housework she usually tackled on Saturday mornings was already done. So Teresa woke with two healthy, energetic children and a rare day of leisure ahead of her.
They lingered over a breakfast of blueberry pancakes and crisp bacon. “What are we going to do today, Mom?” Mark asked when their plates had been cleaned.
“This would be a good day to do some shopping,” she replied, setting down her empty coffee cup. “Both of you need a few things.”
“I need some new jeans,” Mark agreed. “Mine are getting too short.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed.” Her son was growing up so fast.
“Can I get a red sweater, Mommy?” Maggie begged. “Vanessa has a red sweater with a zipper down the front. I want one like that.”
“We’ll see if we can find one you like.” And that she could afford, Teresa added silently.
Fortunately, her children had never gotten into name brand competition. They didn’t care whose advertising logos were splashed across their bodies, and Teresa intended to keep it that way. She never wanted them to feel that they had to measure their worth through material possessions.
“Can we have hamburgers for lunch?” Maggie asked, pushing her luck. “They’re putting Barbie toys in the kids’ boxes this week.”
“I suppose we can arrange that,” Teresa agreed with a smile. At least the kids were still young enough to be satisfied with inexpensive cuisine. “Go upstairs and get ready, and we’ll leave as soon as you’re dressed.”
They raced eagerly upstairs. As Teresa straightened the kitchen, she reflected on how little it took to make her children happy. She really was very fortunate. She resisted an impulse to cross her fingers as she hoped their teen years proceeded as smoothly.
The telephone rang as she finished cleaning the kitchen. She tossed a damp paper towel into the trash and picked up the kitchen receiver. “Hello?”
“Hi. It’s Riley. How’s everyone feeling today?”
Just the sound of his voice made her fingers clench more tightly around the receiver. She made a deliberate effort to loosen them and speak lightly. “Everything’s back to normal here. And you?”
She heard a smile in his voice when he answered, “There are some who would say I’m never normal. But I’m as close as I get.”
“That’s good. I guess.”
“Yeah. Uh, the reason I called is…well, there’s this thing tonight. A Chamber of Commerce dinner to honor Edstown’s citizen of the year. The food will be bland, the program boring, and everyone will act stiff and uncomfortable. So—you want to go?”
She frowned, trying to decipher what he’d just said. “Are you selling tickets?”
His laugh was rueful. “No, I’m not selling tickets. I have tickets. Two of them. I thought maybe you’d like to use the second one.”
Though he was speaking very casually, this was beginning to sound suspiciously as if he were asking her for a date. Surely she was mistaken. “Um…”
“It was Bud’s idea, actually,” Riley added offhandedly. “I mentioned to him that I was supposed to go to this thing and he said you might like to go, too, after being stuck in the house all week with two sick kids and all. He even offered to come to your place with a pizza and a couple of family-friendly videos and baby-sit for the evening.”
Teresa didn’t know what to say. “Riley, I—”
“It’s not really a date, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he interjected. “Just a couple of friends attending a community event together. And it’s sort of a favor to Bud, too. He would really enjoy spending a couple hours with your kids rather than alone in his trailer.”