Local Hero

laughter and held her sides helplessly.
    “What’s going on?” Radley came into the living room staring at his mother, who could do nothing but point. Shifting his gaze, Radley stared in turn at Mitch. “Jeez.” Radley rolled his eyes and began to giggle. “Mike’s little sister gets food all over her face like that. She’s almost two.”
    The control Hester had been scratching for slipped out of her grip. Choking with laughter, she pulled Radley against her. “It was—it was an accident,” she managed, then collapsed again.
    “It was a deliberate sneak attack,” Mitch corrected. “And it calls for immediate retribution.”
    “Oh, please.” Hester held out a hand, knowing she was too weak to defend herself. “I’m sorry. I swear. It was a reflex, that’s all.”
    “So’s this.” He came closer, and though she ducked behind Radley, Mitch merely sandwiched the giggling boy between them. And he kissed her, her mouth, her nose, her cheeks, while she squirmed and laughed and struggled. When he was finished, he’d transferred a satisfactory amount of chocolate to her face. Radley took one look at his mother and slipped, cackling, to the floor.
    “Maniac,” she accused as she wiped chocolate from her chin with the back of her hand.
    “You look beautiful in chocolate, Hester.”
    * * *
    It took more than an hour to put everything to rights again. By popular vote, they ended up sharing a pizza as they once had before, then spending the rest of the evening trying out Radley’s birthday treasures. When he began to nod over the keyboard, Hester nudged him into bed.
    “Quite a day.” Hester set the kitten in his basket at the foot of Radley’s bed, then stepped out into the hall.
    “I’d say it’s a birthday he’ll remember.”
    “So will I.” She reached up to rub at a slight stiffness at the base of her neck. “Would you like some wine?”
    “I’ll get it.” He turned her toward the living room. “Go sit down.”
    “Thanks.” Hester sat on the couch, stretched out her legs and slipped off her shoes. It was definitely a day she would remember. Sometime during it, she’d come to realize that she could also have a night to remember.
    “Here you go.” Mitch handed her a glass of wine, then slipped onto the sofa beside her. Holding his own glass up, he shifted her so that she rested against him.
    “This is nice.” With a sigh, she brought the wine to her lips.
    “Very nice.” He bent to brush his lips over her neck. “I told you this was a great sofa.”
    “Sometimes I forget what it’s like to relax like this. Everything’s done, Radley’s happy and tucked into bed, tomorrow’s Sunday, and there’s nothing urgent to think about.”
    “No restless urge to go out dancing or carousing?”
    “No.” She stretched her shoulders. “You?”
    “I’m happy right here.”
    “Then stay.” She pressed her lips together a moment. “Stay tonight.”
    He was silent. His hand stopped its easy massage of her neck, then began again, slowly. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
    “Yes.” She drew a deep breath before she turned to look at him. “I’ve missed you. I wish I knew what was right and what was wrong, what was best for all of us, but I know I’ve missed you. Will you stay?”
    “I’m not going anywhere.”
    She settled back against him, content. For a long time they sat just as they were, half dreaming, in silence, with lamplight glowing behind them.
    “Are you still working on the script?” she asked at length.
    “Mmm-hmm.” He could get used to this, he thought, very used to having Hester snuggled beside him in the late evening with the lamplight dim and the scent of her hair teasing his senses. “You were right. I’d have hated myself if I hadn’t tried to write it. I guess I had to get past the nerves.”
    “Nerves?” She smiled over her shoulder. “You?”
    “I’ve been known to have them, when something’s either unfamiliar or important. They were stretched pretty thin the first time I made love with you.”
    Hearing it not only surprised her but made the memory of it all the sweeter. “They didn’t show.”
    “Take my word for it.” He stroked the outside of her thigh, lightly and with a casualness that was its own kind of seduction. “I was afraid that I’d make the wrong move and screw up something that was more important than anything else in my life.”
    “You didn’t make any wrong moves, and you make me feel very special.”
    When