Blue Dahlia

right up.
    And if that’s why Stella was hesitating, it was a sad state of affairs. Undoubtedly part of it, though, she decided. Otherwise she wouldn’t be thinking it.
    She hadn’t disliked any of her stepfathers. But she hadn’t bonded with them either, or they with her. How old had she been the first time her mother had remarried? Gavin’s age, she remembered. Yes, right around eight.
    She’d been plucked out of her school and plunked down in a new one, a new house, new neighborhood, and dazed by it all while her mother had been in the adrenaline rush of having a new husband.
    That one had lasted, what? Three years, four? Somewhere between, she decided, with another year or so of upheaval while her mother dealt with the battle and debris of divorce, another new place, a new job, a new start.
    And another new school for Stella.
    After that, her mother had stuck with boyfriends for a long stretch. But that itself had been another kind of upheaval, having to survive her mother’s mad dashes into love, her eventual bitter exit from it.
    And they were always bitter, Stella remembered.
    At least she’d been in college, living on her own, when her mother had married yet again. And maybe that was part of the reason that marriage had lasted nearly a decade. There hadn’t been a child to crowd things. Yet eventually there’d been another acrimonious divorce, with the split nearly coinciding with her own widowhood.
    It had been a horrible year, in every possible way, which her mother had ended with yet one more brief, tumultuous marriage.
    Strange that even as an adult, Stella found she couldn’t quite forgive being so consistently put into second or even third place behind her mother’s needs.
    She wasn’t doing that with her own children, she assured herself. She wasn’t being selfish and careless in her relationship with Logan, or shuffling her kids to the back of her heart because she was falling in love with him.
    Still, the fact was it was all moving awfully fast. It would make more sense to slow things down a bit until she had a better picture.
    Besides, she was going to be too busy to think about marriage. And she shouldn’t forget he hadn’t asked her to marry him and have his children, for God’s sake. She was blowing an offhand comment way out of proportion.
    Time to get back on track. She rose from her desk and started for the door. It opened before she reached it.
    “I was just going to find you,” she said to Roz. “I’m on my way to pick up the new family and take them home.”
    “I wish I could go with you. I nearly postponed this meeting so I could.” She glanced at her watch as if considering it again.
    “By the time you get back from your meeting with Dr. Carnegie, they’ll be all settled in and ready for some quality time with Aunt Roz.”
    “I have to admit I want my hands on that baby. So, now, what’ve you been fretting about?”
    “Fretting?” Stella opened a desk drawer to retrieve her purse. “Why do you think I’ve been fretting about anything ?”
    “Your watch is turned around, which means you’ve been twisting at it. Which means you’ve been fretting. Something going on around here I don’t know about?”
    “No.” Annoyed with herself, Stella turned her watch around. “No, it’s nothing to do with work. I was thinking about Logan, and I was thinking about my mother.”
    “What does Logan have to do with your mother?” As she asked, Roz picked up Stella’s thermos. After opening it and taking a sniff, she poured a few swallows of iced coffee in the lid.
    “Nothing. I don’t know. Do you want a mug for that?”
    “No, this is fine. Just want a taste.”
    “I think—I sense—I’m wondering ... and I already sound like an ass.” Stella took a lipstick from the cosmetic bag in her purse, and walking to the mirror she’d hung on the wall, she began to freshen her makeup. “Roz, things are getting serious between me and Logan.”
    “As I’ve got eyes, I’ve seen that for myself. Do you want me to say and , or do you want me to mind my own business?”
    “And. I don’t know if I’m ready for serious. I don’t know that he is, either. It’s surprising enough it turned out we like each other, much less ...” She turned back. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Not this churned up and edgy, and, well, fretful.”
    She replaced the lipstick and zipped the bag shut. “With Kevin, everything was so clear. We were young and in love, and