One of the Boys by Merline Lovelace Page A

boilingwater filled with noodles. “We might have to be a little flexible on the courses tonight. You don’t mind, do you, birthday girl?”
    Laughing, Lisa shook her head.
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    Hours later, Jake polished off the last of the charbroiled amberjack. It was, he decided, a perfect ending to a perfect meal. So what if the spaghetti sauce tasted like a cross between West Texas chili and tomato stew? Who cared if the garlic bread was slightly charred around the edges? And who was he to protest when Maura brought out a five-layer cake ablaze with candles while the fish was still grilling?
    They’d laughed so much and pored over the glossy book of Indian pottery Maura gave Lisa for a birthday gift for so long, that they were hungry again by the time the amberjack was finally ready.
    Jake settled back in his chair and watched a light brown and a dark black head bent close together over the glossy edition. Absently his fingers stroked the fine grain on the antique dining table. Littering its polished surface was a huge pot of fresh flowers in a riot of colors, delicate Rosenthal stemware and a collection of heavy crystal candleholders, each one filled with a sputtering candle. These elegant touches accented mismatched china and placemats in varying shapes and sizes. Or maybe it was mix-matched china, Jake thought. He was getting so used to Maura’s own eclectic style of decorating that the cheerful patterns andglowing colors were beginning to take on their own cachet.
    Slowly his eyes roved over the small cottage. There were still a few boxes stacked in corners, but many had been cleared out. After Jake had banged his shins the second time on inconvenient obstructions during one of their more playful sessions, Maura had solemnly sworn to clear a path straight from the front door to the bedroom.
    A vision of his own home superimposed itself on this tiny, cheerful cottage. Jake had had it built to his own specifications and had it professionally decorated. He’d always considered it airy and spacious. Now the glass and chrome seemed sterile and the high ceilings echoed, even with Lisa’s welcome presence.
    His house, he decided as he stretched his long legs out under the table, could use just a little of Maura’s clutter. And he could use…
    A furious snarl interrupted his musing, causing all three diners to jump. Dipping down, Maura peeked under the table.
    â€œOh, Jake, you must have accidentally kicked Bea.” Her head popped back up. “It was accidental, wasn’t it?”
    â€œIt was,” he drawled. “When that cat and I finally have it out, rest assured you’ll have a ringside seat.”
    Lisa giggled at his ferocious scowl. Her giggles turned to peals of laughter when she and Maura took Jake on in a three-sided game of Pictionary.
    Father and daughter departed an hour later. Clutching the glossy book, Lisa snuggled down in her seat.
    â€œThis is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
    Jake gave her a quick look in the darkness and felt his heart thump painfully in his chest. Whatever else he and Anne had done wrong, they’d somehow managed to produce a warm, bright, loving child. Reaching across the bucket seats, he gave Lisa’s hand a squeeze.
    â€œI’m glad, honey.”
    â€œIsn’t Maura fun? I really like her. You do, too, don’t you?”
    The question held a distinctly teasing tone. At fifteen, no, sixteen, Lisa probably had a good idea about those stops Jake made at Maura’s after work. She must have guessed they weren’t all strictly business.
    â€œYes, I do. I like her a lot.”
    â€œHow much? I mean, you spend a lot of time with her. Are you in love or something?”
    Jake took a deep breath. Was he in love? He sure as hell was in lust.
    â€œI don’t know, honey,” he answered truthfully. “I guess it’s ‘something’ at this point.”
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    He struggled with the answer to