Love, Suburban Style by Wendy Markham Page B

and from the train tracks over to Glenhaven Chase is zone three.”
    Stonegate Condos?
    Glenhaven Chase?
    She’s never heard of either of those.
    But on to more important details:
    “So you’ll be Cosette’s soccer coach, then?”
    He nods. “I guess. Ben’s on the team, too. Did your daughter play soccer where you used to live?”
    “Not for a few years, but she used to be pretty good. I’m sure she’ll pick it up again easily.”
    As if he senses that she’s trying to sound more optimistic than she actually feels, Sam offers, “Maybe she can kick the ball around the yard with Ben to get back into the swing of things.”
    “That would be good.”
    Meg has a pleasant flash of her daughter and Sam’s son, kicking a soccer ball around in the autumn sunshine, laughing together.
    Together.
    What if…?
    Nah. If Ben’s son is anything like he was—popular, athletic, wholesome—Cosette will eat him alive.
    Too bad. It would have been great if she found a nice boy her own age to hang out with here, or even date.
    Something bangs loudly somewhere on the second floor.
    Meg jumps. “What was that?”
    “I have no idea.”

Chapter
5
    A s she and Sam gaze up the shadowy staircase, Meg’s heart is pounding.
    Oh, hell. This isn’t just about strange sounds in a strange house. It’s been pounding since she first laid eyes on Sam Rooney again.
    “It must have been the wind blowing a door closed,” Sam decides.
    “No, all the windows up there are closed.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Positive. I tried to open a few when I went up, but I think they’re painted shut, so I was going to wait for Geoffrey to give it a shot.”
    “I’ll check it out.” Sam brushes crumbs off his legs and moves the pizza box from the step.
    “I’ll come with you,” Meg says hastily, not wanting to be left alone down here in the almost dark.
    And, admit it, not wanting to be away from Sam.
    Together, they make their way up the creaking staircase.
    A few steps behind him, Meg can’t help but notice that Sam seems a little hesitant as they get closer to the hot, stuffy second floor. The rain has stopped; now there is only a steady dripping sound coming from somewhere under the eaves.
    “You don’t really think this house is haunted, do you?” she asks, and wonders why she’s whispering. But the circumstances seem to warrant it; she can’t help but feel as though they might not be alone here.
    “Haunted?” he echoes—also in a whisper, she notes. But he shakes his head adamantly. “No way.”
    Then why are they practically tiptoeing as they make their way down the almost eerily still upstairs hall?
    They step into the first bedroom, the one Meg thought would be perfect for Cosette. She was charmed by the pair of dormered windows and the cozy alcove on one end where she plans to put a desk and overhead bookshelves.
    Now, however, there’s nothing the least bit charming about the room, even after she flips on the overhead light. The bulb must be low-wattage; its glow is far from cheery.
    “So you tried this window?” Sam crosses to the one nearest the door.
    “Yes, but it wouldn’t—”
    She breaks off, startled, as he effortlessly raises the sash. A cooling breeze instantly fills the room.
    Meg gapes. “How did you do that?”
    “Magic fingers.” He grins and wiggles them at her.
    “But I…”
    “You probably loosened it for me. Or maybe it’s less humid now. Let me try this one…” With a slight pull, he opens the other window.
    She follows him from room to room, watching in disbelief as he opens one window after another with a mere tug.
    Finally, in the back bedroom that’s destined to become her future study, he brushes his palms against each other, turns to her, and announces, “All done.”
    “I swear I didn’t make it up,” she says, baffled.
    “You mean about the windows being stuck?”
    She nods. “I really didn’t.”
    “Why would you make it up?”
    “I don’t know…”
    To play the helpless