stood there, his face drawn, sullen.

She raised her eyebrows.

He shrugged then motioned to the bed. "I could use a little attention," he said.

"Attention?"

He walked closer. "Yeah." He took her hands and pulled her to him. "It's been weeks since

we've made love."

Try months.

She stepped out of his embrace, holding him at arm's length. "You don't want to make love,

Craig. You want to have sex."

"And? So?"

"And so I don't. Besides, your parents are coming over any minute."

"I told you I wasn't in the mood," he said loudly.

"Well they're coming over just the same. We're having steaks."

"I swear, Jill, can't we spend one night alone?"

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Since January, you have been gone nearly

every night of the week with basketball. Don't talk to me about spending time alone."

"It's my job, for Christ's sake. You know that."

"Oh yes, I know."

"And it's not like I didn't ask you to come with me. You just never want to."

"Well, like you said, it's your job."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She turned around and gathered up an armload of dirty clothes. She shook her head. "It

means nothing, Craig. But I don't care to join you in your pity party. You should be proud of

how far you and the team went. These are kids, Craig. They look up to you. Is this what you

want them to see?"

"You just don't understand," he said. "You never did. It's not just a game, Jill. It's about

life."

"So the message you want to portray is that you lost the game, you lost at life? Give me a

break. They're sixteen, seventeen years old. How sad is it if you make them believe that

this weekend was the most important event in their young lives? They've got their whole

life in front of them."

"Yeah, well I don't," he said angrily as he turned away.

"And it's always about you," she murmured. She closed her eyes, finally letting out her

breath. He wasn't worried about the kids and their frame of mind, he was just concerned

about himself. It was what made him a good coach—the fear of failing. It was also what

made him a horrible coach.

Later, after steaks and after his mother had effectively consoled him, he was able to turn

on his cell phone. It hadn't stopped ringing.

So as soon as Arlene and Carl left, she poured a glass of wine and retreated to the back

deck. The nights were still cool but not unbearably cold. The sweatshirt she'd pulled on was

plenty warm enough.

She sat down and put the swing in motion with her foot, enjoying the quiet finally after

three days of basketball. She wasn't even going to allow Arlene's remarks about Angie

make her feel guilty. Angie was at Shelly's. And yes, it was a school night. But no, she

wasn't a horrible mother. Angie had called, asking if she could stay over. After talking to

Shelly's mom to make sure it was okay with them, she said yes. Their evening of rented

movies and pizza sounded more fun anyway.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, trying to relax after the whirlwind weekend

they'd had. And as always, when she allowed them, thoughts of Carrie crept into her mind.

She'd intentionally kept her at bay, trying hard to blend in with the family, to enjoy the

basketball weekend like the others were. Even at night, as she lay in bed, long after Craig

had gone to sleep, she'd purposely shut her mind to any thoughts of Carrie.

But now back home, back in her familiar surroundings, alone in the quiet evening, she

allowed them to come. And it wasn't difficult at all to conjure up Carrie's face, her smile,

her salt-and-pepper hair that stood in all directions... and the pale blue eyes she'd grown to

love.

Love?

She opened her eyes quickly, her heart pounding nervously in her chest. Love? She relaxed.

Yes, love. Carrie was a friend. In fact, a good friend, a best friend, really. So that stood to

reason she'd feel something for her. Surely.

So she closed her eyes again, again putting the swing in motion, knowing, thankfully, that

tomorrow was Monday. She smiled as a familiar peace settled over her.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Jill didn't know who was more surprised by the hug but she simply couldn't stop herself

when Carrie walked out to the porch to meet her. Embarrassed, she pulled away, but Carrie

kept a hold on her hand. Their eyes held for a long moment then Carrie finally grinned and

released her.

"Miss me?"

Jill shrugged nonchalantly. "A little. Maybe."

"Sorry about the game."

"Not nearly as sorry as I am."

"Oh? He took it hard?"

"Like it was life or death," Jill said. "I can't tell you how glad I am it's over."

"Well, come inside. I made us sandwiches. And if the rain stays away, we can go down to the

pier later. Or we can just stay inside the sunroom."

"The wind is a little cold today, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess my prediction of an early spring was wrong," Carrie said as she held the door

to the sunroom open.

Jill squeezed her arm as she walked past. "Spring will be here before you know it." She

stopped short when she walked into the sunroom. The small wicker table that sat in front

of the garden loveseat was decorated with a colorful tablecloth, and a vase held half a

dozen red roses. She turned slowly, finding Carrie's eyes.

"It's beautiful," she said quietly.

Carrie shrugged and Jill noticed the slight blush that crept upon her face. "Nothing fancy,"

she said. "I just bought the roses on a whim."

"It was... it was sweet of you," Jill said lightly. She walked closer, bending to inhale the

fragrance. She straightened with a smile. "Wonderful."

"Well, sit... relax. I'll bring out lunch."

"I can help."

"No, no. I've got it."

Jill watched her hurry into the cottage then she moved to the loveseat, taking her normal

position on the end. Without thinking, she bent again to sniff the roses.

"I'm glad you like them," Carrie said quietly behind her.

Jill turned, smiling before taking the tray from Carrie. It was laden with sandwiches on

onion rolls, two large dill pickles, a small tray of potato chips and a bowl of fresh fruit.

Carrie went back for the glasses of tea then joined Jill on the loveseat.

"You went to too much trouble," Jill accused.

"Absolutely not. The strawberries are in season, I couldn't resist."

"Well, everything looks lovely, thank you." She picked up her sandwich and took a bite,

moaning slightly as she tasted the spicy banana peppers Carrie had taught her to like.

"Tell me about the weekend," Carrie coaxed as she popped a strawberry into her mouth.

Jill smiled. "I hate to admit it but I was secretly hoping we'd lose the first game. And

there was not one thing relaxing about the weekend. We stayed in the same hotel where all

the teams stayed. Imagine hundreds of high school kids roaming the halls."

Carrie gave an exaggerated shudder. "I try not to."

"And then there was the constant companionship of my mother-in-law. I swear I didn't

have a moment to myself. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, the games—she was everywhere,"

Jill said with a laugh. "Of course, Craig rode on the bus with the team, so Angie and I had

the pleasure of driving down and back with them. Which surprisingly wasn't the worst

part."

"Which was?"

"Which was when Craig got home." But she shook her head. "Enough of that. Tell me what

you did over the weekend."

"Oh, it was totally stress-free and a little boring," Carrie said as she put her sandwich

down. "James was actually home at a decent hour Friday, so he took me and Aaron out to

dinner. Josh was on a date," she said with a smile. "I came out here on Saturday because

the weather was so nice. Josh took Aaron and a couple of his friends to the mall and the

movies, so I was able to spend the whole day out here. I got most of Joshua's old

flowerbed cleaned out."

"I can't wait to see it."

"And I can't wait to plant flowers," Carrie said.

"What about yesterday? What did you do?"

"Yesterday was one of the rare days where we were all actually home at the same time. I

cooked a pot roast and we had a real family dinner," she said. "It was just a lazy day."

"Lazy days are nice."

"Yes." Carrie looked away, then back at Jill. "I... I missed you. This weekend, I missed you."

Jill nodded. "I missed you too," she said quietly. Blue eyes held hers and she didn't try to

pull away. "I seem to miss you more and more," she murmured.

"Do you think about me?"

"Yes."

"I think about you too. I didn't understand it at first. Then when I finally did understand

it, it scared the hell out of me."

Jill frowned. "What do you mean?"

Carrie shook her head. "What's more scary is wondering if you feel it too," she whispered.

Jill's heart pounded loudly in her chest and she forgot to breathe. She stared into the

blue eyes that were so close, blue eyes she'd learned to read so well. The hammering of