He stood in the foyer and realized he hated this condo. He didn’t want to be here.
It took a minute before he could force himself to continue into the bedroom, empty his clothes into drawers—Lia had made sure he came home with everything laundered—and replaced his few toiletries in the bathroom with a Corian countertop and mahogany cabinets. He had no landline, so there were no phone messages he had to deal with. He’d paid all his bills online while he was gone, and what little mail he’d picked up downstairs in his box was junk.
A workout. Conall seized on the idea. The complex had a well-equipped gym, open at all hours. He’d go lift some weights, spend time on the treadmill. Maybe if he stayed until his muscles groaned and he was blinded by sweat, he’d get over this unfamiliar depression.
Yeah. That was a plan.
Maybe so, but it didn’t really work. He discovered he’d lost enough conditioning to alarm him, and knew he’d overdone and would regret it tomorrow, but his mood hadn’t lifted.
He’d forgotten to tell her to keep an eye out for Walker ditching his glasses when he should be wearing them. He could email Lia. That was enough of an excuse…no, it was a reason for contacting her immediately, not waiting a few days as he’d intended.
In fact, if he did it right away she might even read it tonight. The West Coast was three hours behind, after all. Yeah, he should get online now, not wait until he’d showered or made himself something for a late dinner.
The task would have been quickly done if he hadn’t hesitated for a ludicrous length of time trying to decide how to end the email.
Wish I was there with you.
He scowled.
Is your bedroom door open tonight?
God.
I miss all of you so much, I ache with it.
His throat closed.
So, okay, they’d gotten to him. But he felt sure it wouldn’t be a permanent condition. How could it be? He couldn’t picture himself as some kind of family man. Pacing the sidelines at soccer games with the other fathers, yelling advice. Well, actually, he could see himself doing that. He’d spent enough time coaching the boys, it would be hard to keep his mouth shut if he knew one of them needed a reminder.
He swore under his breath.
Sitting at the dinner table every night with his wife and kids… God help him, he’d never been happier than he was at Lia’s table, eating her home-baked sourdough biscuits and fresh-picked green beans, answering Walker and Brendan’s oddball questions, aware all the time of Lia’s gentle smile and the tilt of her head as she listened.
It was new and different, that’s all. A sort of cultural exchange program. This is how other people live.
How he’d dreamed of living when he was a boy.
He wanted that for those two boys. He wanted them to have what he hadn’t had.
Something like despair seemed to make the air thin. He was breathing too hard. He wanted to talk to Lia, but not on the phone. He needed to be sitting out on the porch steps with her, the night air cool, the country scent of manure and growing things so familiar he hadn’t noticed how much easier he breathed there.
With a harsh sound, he grabbed his cell phone. He couldn’t call her, but he could call Duncan. They hadn’t really said goodbye. He’d thought about stopping in town this morning, but his mood had been too lousy.
He dialed before he had time for second thoughts. He was a little startled when Jane answered instead of Duncan.
“Conall. I thought you’d gone back to Florida.”
“I did. Funny thing, we have cell phone service here, too.”
Her laugh was low and husky. “Okay, I admit, I thought once we were out of sight we’d be out of mind. I’m glad you called. Duncan has been prowling around tonight looking out of sorts.”
She went off to get her husband. Conall heard a baby crying, a murmur of voices, and finally his brother came on.
“Con?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” He was the one prowling, too restless to sit. “I just, uh, meant to call before I left. Or stop by the station.”
“I hear the owner of the house isn’t pleased to find out what his renters were up to.”
“Hey, landlord risk. You got to expect to patch a few bullet holes in the drywall.”