She found the coffeepot and the coffee, then poured in the water and sat on a stool to wait. The kitchen was large and bright with big windows overlooking the side garden. Unlike the rest of the house, this room had been completely modernized. Oak cabinets and new appliances lined three walls. The huge center island had a cook top and a sink as well as an eating area running along one side. The cobalt blue bar stool seat cushions matched the tile splash guard along the stretch of wall between the counters and the cabinets.

The smell of coffee revived her. Erin leaned on the counter and wondered why this was happening to her. What was it about the situation that made her act so out of character? She’d always been so calm about everything, taking things as they came, waiting until the time was right, until it was appropriate to respond. Waiting for her turn. Unlike Stacey, she’d never grabbed at life with both hands.

The coffee finished dripping. She slid off the stool to get a cup at the same moment the back door opened. Kiki stepped inside and the two women stared at each other.

Erin registered several facts at once. First, Kiki wasn’t wearing the dress she’d had on the previous night although she recognized it as the garment slung over the housekeeper’s arm. Second, the pink jogging suit was the exact color of the blush climbing the other woman’s cheeks. Third, there was the distinctive sound of a car driving away.

Kiki recovered first. “The coffee smells great.”

“Help yourself.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” She set the dress and her purse on the small table in front of the window, then walked over to the cupboard above the pot and pulled down a cup.

Erin stared at her. “Are you just now getting in?”

“Why, yes.”

“But it’s nearly six in the morning.”

“I know, dear.” Kiki held out the pot. “Do you want some?”

“What? Oh, thank you.” She waited while the housekeeper poured coffee then added cream into the steaming liquid, and glanced at the other woman. Kiki was getting home at six in the morning? She’d been out all night?

“I’m always available to baby-sit,” Kiki said, “but in the past, if Parker didn’t need me in the evening, I went out.” She took a sip of her coffee, then smiled. “Don’t look so shocked.”

“Do I?” Erin resumed her seat on the stool. “I don’t mean to be. It’s great that you have a…life.”

Kiki settled next to her. She grinned. “What you mean is that it’s nice that I have a man. It’s true what they say, you know. Life does begin at forty. I’ve been living mine for nearly fourteen years.”

“You’ve been dating the same man for fourteen years?”

Kiki laughed. “Honey, no. Not the same man. Several men. I go out, I enjoy myself. Sometimes I don’t come home before dawn.”

Great, the housekeeper had a more interesting life than she did, Erin thought glumly. Joyce had been right. She was living like a nun.

“What’s his name?” Erin asked.

Kiki leaned one elbow on the counter and looked at her. Bright blond hair fell over the housekeeper’s forehead. Lines crinkled around her blue eyes as she smiled. “Which one?”

“How many are there?”

“Three.”

Three? “Three different men?”

“You’re looking shocked again. It’s not all that uncommon.”

“It is to me.”

“You young people are so conservative. You should live a little. Play the field. I recommend it highly.”

Erin thought about that for a minute. She hadn’t had a date since Christie was born, and Kiki was keeping company with three different men. “Do they know about each other?”

“Of course.” Kiki raised her hand and began ticking off fingers. “Dan is nearly sixty. His wife died a couple of years ago. He likes living by himself and doesn’t plan to remarry. Still, a man has needs, so I see him once a week. Next is Roger. He’s my age and he’s divorced.”

Erin made the mistake of taking a sip of her coffee while Kiki was talking. She swallowed it the wrong way and started choking. Kiki pounded her on the back, then waited politely until she was done.

“Better?” she asked when Erin finally caught her breath.

“Sure,” Erin croaked. “Go on.”

“I also see Roger once a week. Now Skip is my boy toy.”

Erin had learned her lesson. This time the cup was only partway to her mouth. Coffee sloshed over the side, but she managed to keep it off her sweatshirt.

“You have a boy toy?”

“That’s what I call him. Skip is younger, barely forty, I think, although he’s never said. He’s also divorced and not ready for a relationship. But he’s a man, and a man has-”

“Needs. Yes, I’ve figured that part out.”

“I see Skip at least twice a week.” Kiki leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Younger men have more powers of recovery, if you know what I mean.”

Erin felt a flush climb her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “Who were you with last night?”

Kiki sighed dramatically. “Skip. A few hours with him and I feel like a new woman.”

“They know about each other and don’t mind?”

“I’m very honest with them. Everyone is getting what he or she wants, so why would anyone mind? I’m discreet and careful. Skip and I even use condoms. Imagine, a woman of my age.”

“Secretly you’re nineteen,” Erin muttered.

Kiki laughed. “I know.”

“I’ve never known anyone like you.”

Kiki’s laughter faded. She slid off the stool and walked over to the cupboards. While she pulled out flour, spices and an open box of raisins she said, “Oh, I’m not so different from everyone else. I was thinking of cinnamon rolls for breakfast. Would you and Christie like that?”

Erin’s stomach growled. “Sounds wonderful.”

Kiki brought the ingredients to the opposite side of the center island. “Christie is a sweet girl. I’m sure she brings you a lot of joy.”

“She does.”

Kiki glanced up at her. Sadness filled her eyes. “I had a child once. A little boy. He died when he was twelve. A car hit him while he was riding his bike.”

Erin’s breath caught in her throat. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“It was a long time ago.” Kiki began measuring out ingredients. “My marriage failed. Many do, you know, after the death of a child. There’s so much suffering and need. I was clinically depressed for nearly three years. Then one day I began to get better.” She wiped her hands on a towel by the island sink. “One of the things that wore me down was the regrets. The things I should have said to my boy. All the places we could have gone.”

The animation fled her face leaving her looking old and tired. Erin ached for her. “Kiki, I-”

“No. Don’t you worry about me. When I left that hospital, I swore to myself I wouldn’t ever have regrets again, and I haven’t.” She smiled then, the skin by her eyes crinkling and her generous mouth turning up. “I live my life the way I want and there’s not many who can say that.”

Kiki finished mixing the dough, then sprinkled flour on the counter and dug through the drawers for a rolling pin. Erin sipped coffee and watched her. She admired Kiki’s spirit and willingness to go on despite the tragedy in her life. She remembered how immobilized she’d been after Stacey died. If it hadn’t been for Christie, she didn’t know what might have happened.

Did she have regrets? Erin wasn’t sure. She couldn’t regret Christie. The bright young child was so much a part of her life, she couldn’t imagine a world without her. She was sorry she, Erin, hadn’t gone on to graduate school. She’d had dreams of studying photography, of taking pictures that made people feel something. Stacey used to tease her about wanting to find her work in coffee table books across the country. Erin had been pleased by the idea. But after Christie entered her life there had been neither time nor money to pursue her dream.

Sometimes she regretted that she was so alone. She didn’t miss any specific man, but it would be nice to have someone to share things with. Instantly her mind conjured up an image of Parker. Her lips tingled as she remembered their kiss.

It wasn’t a kiss, she reminded herself. It was a brief peck, the kind one might give a distant relative. At least it was to him, and that’s what mattered. It was one thing to have fantasies in the privacy of her own mind. It was quite another to try to force someone into making those fantasies come true.

Kiki sprinkled cinnamon and raisins on the dough, then rolled it up. “Sounds like someone else is up,” she said.

Erin tilted her head. She could hear creaking from the stairs and the faint sound of laughter. She glanced at the clock and was surprised to find it was nearly seven.

“I hope Christie didn’t wake up Parker,” she said as she slid off the stool.

“Don’t worry if she did. That man needs a little shaking up, and I think she’s just the person to do it.”

Erin gave her a quick grin, then left the kitchen and headed for the living room. As she crossed the hardwood floor, she glanced up. The sun had moved past the horizon and faint fingers of light filtered into the room. She could see the groupings of furniture and the stairs beyond.

Parker came into view, his long, lean legs moving easily. Christie sat on his shoulders. She clung to his head and squealed with delight.

“Mommy, Mommy, look at me!”

“I see you.”

Parker and his daughter were laughing. Erin noticed their identical smiles and felt a faint twinge of discomfort. She’d known coming here and introducing Parker to his child would change everything. It had been the right decision, but nothing would ever be the same again. She would always be Christie’s mother although now that precious love would be shared.

“You’re up early,” Parker said when he reached the bottom stair. “Couldn’t you sleep?”

No, and it was his fault. She’d hoped that the hours of darkness would have given her a little perspective on the situation, but they didn’t seem to have helped. He was just as good-looking as he’d been yesterday. Worn jeans possessively hugged his thighs. His flannel shirt had been washed to the point of fading. It caressed his broad strength with the clinging attention of a lover.