High Noon

got the most play, which didn’t. You can bet he’s asked the kids we brought, and those of complete strangers, what they like. He’ll have himself a baseline before we’re sick off ice cream sundaes, then he’ll go—or won’t go—from there.”
    “I can’t quite fit him into the businessman mold.”
    Loo’s smile was lit with affection. “He’s his own mold.”
    “Apparently.”
    “Got a nice ass on him, too.”
    “Unquestionably.”
    “He’s got what my mother calls the calf’s eyes for you.”
    “Does he? It’s hard for me to see clearly with all these hearts circling in front of mine. I just wanted a hot affair.” She shifted toward Loo, kept her voice low. “I figured, hell, I deserve one.”
    “Who doesn’t?” Loo shifted in turn. “How about some salient details?”
    “Maybe some other time. The thing is, I don’t know if I can manage what’s going on in here.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “I don’t know if I have the tools or the room or—”
    “Why? You’re—”
    “Wait.” Phoebe turned her hand palm out now. “You’re married, and happily by every sign. You have a pretty little girl and an ugly dog. You have a big family, dual careers that complement each other and exceptional taste in shoes.”
    “I do.” Loo pursed her lips at the stacked-heel, copper-toned sandals. “The shoes are the kicker.”
    “I’m divorced with a career that pulls me in conflicting directions constantly, and a family I love, but that does the same. My foundation is shaky at best, and what I’ve built on it takes a lot of time and effort to tend. It’s never been just me for a lot of reasons. It can never be just me.”
    “You’re thinking Duncan can’t handle the complications of your life?”
    “I’m not sure he’d want to, or why he would. Right now, he’s infatuated and intrigued. And the sex, like the shoes, is quite the kicker. But I’m a lot to deal with on a daily basis. And there are things I can’t change or adjust. I’m just not in a position to.”
    Loo sucked through her straw, considered. “Do you always analyze everything into tiny pieces, and pick out the harder points?”
    “Yes. Occupational hazard, I guess. Tough fit, I’d think, for a man who appears to take in the big picture quickly and find the shiny nuggets. I keep trying to…I’d say talk myself down from all this. Step back from the ledge, Phoebe. Your life’s good enough, full enough as it is, so accept that. Take that last step, there’s no coming back from it, not without a world of hurt.”
    “Love as suicide?”
    “Maybe it is. Or it’s walking out with your hands up in surrender, to take the consequences.”
    “Or it’s coming out free, instead of staying a hostage.”
    “That’s a point. I know what I’m doing, have to know what I’m doing just about all the time. It’s annoying, and damn disconcerting, not to know what I’m doing with him.”
    “Can’t tell you. But I think it’d be fun finding out.”
     
    Fun was exhausting. Carly gave in to it and sprawled sleeping in the back of Duncan’s car on the way home.
    “In case she’s too zonked to thank you, I can tell you she had a big, bright, red-letter day.”
    “Me, too.”
    “I noticed. Boys and toys. She’s got a whopping crush on you.”
    “It’s mutual.”
    “I noticed that, too. Duncan, I have one favor to ask, and I hope you’ll understand why I need to.”
    “Sure. You had too many hot dogs and want me to stop for Pepto.”
    “I had one hot dog, and I have Tums at home. Duncan, seriously. I’m saying—asking, really—that if things between us take a slide, or we get pissed off and each decide the other is the spawn of Satan, if you’ll ease away from Carly. Give her time to adjust. This is a crappy thing to bring up after you’ve given us such a good day, but—”
    “You’ve got—what’s his name?—Ralph stuck in your head.”
    “Roy,” she corrected. “And, yes, that’s part of it. I can’t think of anyone less like him than you are.”
    “If that’s true, you should already know it’s a favor you don’t have to ask. I know what it’s like to be shut out and shut down.”
    “You do.” She touched a hand to his arm. “I’m a worrying, overprotective mother.”
    “She’s lucky to have one.” He aimed a look at her. “Even if you turn out to be the spawn of Satan.”
    She wiggled her tired toes as he turned toward the house. “How about coming in, having a cool glass