while Harriet was gone. Their business was still relatively small but had grown considerably

since Johnny had taken over. He was more hands-on than his father had been, beating them

to the office each morning, then leaving at nine to check on the various construction crews

he had out in the field. Whereas his father ran the office and relied on his crews to run

the construction end of things, Johnny allowed Jill to run the office while he managed the

crews. It had been a profitable change for the business. A change that kept them all busy

from eight to five.

But now Jill found herself watching the clock, wishing for one p.m. to arrive. She was

anxious for her own lunch hour, anxious to go to the park. For some reason, she couldn't

get Carrie Howell out of her mind. Even this morning, after Angie had thrown a fit about

Jill not being able to take her to band practice at four, she longed for the quiet hour when

she could escape to the park. God forbid Angie should hang around school for forty-five

minutes until practice started.

"Mom, that's for losers. Those without a ride."

"Well, it looks like you'll be a loser today. Unless your grandmother can take you."

"Of course, push your motherly duties off on Grandma," she said sarcastically.

"My motherly duties right now include working from eight to five. I don't have the luxury

of being home all day like your grandmother."

"I can't wait until I'm old enough to drive. Then I won't have to rely on you anymore," she

spat.

"Your grandmother's going to buy you a car, is she?"

"Dad promised I could have a car," she yelled.

"Yes. I think he promised you my old Subaru."

Tears welled up immediately. "I'm not driving that piece of crap! I'll be laughed out of high

school."

She ran screaming from the room and Jill rubbed her temples, wishing once again that

Craig was here to witness one of her little fits.

And after a completely silent trip to school, one that ended with Angie slamming the door

on the Subaru, Jill escaped to the quiet and calm of her eight-to-five job.

She looked again at the clock, watching the hands move to twelve thirty, knowing she was

getting absolutely no work done as she listened to the ticking of the clock.

Finally, with only five minutes to go, she began getting ready, saving the little work she'd

done, closing down her computer. She walked to the tiny break room and retrieved her

sandwich from the refrigerator, then grabbed a plastic bottle of water and waited

patiently at her desk. As soon as she saw Harriet drive up, she rushed to the door, meeting

her on the sidewalk.

"You're in a hurry today," Harriet said. "Got a date?"

Jill laughed. "A date with a park bench, yes."

"Well have fun. See you at two."

Yes, she was in a hurry today and the morning had been endless. And the anticipation she'd

been feeling all day manifested itself tenfold as she approached the park. She didn't pause

to wonder why she was in such a hurry to get to the park, in such a hurry to see if Carrie

Howell was there today. Again, that feeling that she was being controlled in some way,

being guided to the park, settled over her and she knew it would be futile to try to

challenge it. She didn't want to challenge it.

She wanted to see Carrie Howell.

And as she eased onto her park bench, letting the sun warm her, she looked around, her

eyes searching for the other woman. A moment of panic hit when she didn't see her on

first glance, then through the trees, near the lake, she stood. Easel again today.

Jill felt a wave of relief wash over her at the sight of the other woman. She couldn't

explain the comfort she felt, knowing Carrie was here. Without thought, she unwrapped

her sandwich, eating and chewing methodically as she watched Carrie.

Then, as if sensing her eyes on her, Carrie turned and stared right at her. Jill stopped

chewing, her throat tight as she imagined those pale blue eyes looking at her. Carrie lifted

a hand in greeting and Jill did the same. It wasn't until Carrie turned back around that Jill

was able to swallow again.

What is wrong with you?

But she had no answer. She simply had an overwhelming urge to be near the woman. And

before long, she would get her wish as Carrie walked toward her. Jill hastily wiped her

mouth with her napkin and took a swallow of water.

"Hi, Jill. Good to see you again," Carrie greeted.

"Yes. I see you have your easel today. Watercolors?"

"No. Colored chalk. I usually just use my sketch pad but I had an inspiration for a larger

picture. I wanted to capture the trees and lake, maybe add a duck or two in the

foreground. If it turns out good with the colored chalk, then I'll do the scene with

watercolors." Then she opened her notebook and handed Jill a paper. "Here. Thought you

might want to have this."

Jill took the paper, noting the sketch she'd seen yesterday, the sketch of her on the park

bench. Carrie had added features to her face, making it obvious it was her, not just a

faceless woman in the park. It was beautiful.

"Thank you. It's lovely."

"Well, I had a lovely subject."

Jill smiled, not knowing what to say.

Out of her bag, Carrie pulled a half a loaf of bread. "I was about to go feed the ducks. Feel

like walking along?"

"Sure." Jill stood, motioning to the easel. "Will that be okay?"

"I doubt anyone will swipe it," Carrie said.

They walked along the trail, heading to the small piers where paddleboats and canoes were

tied. In spring and summer, you'd be hard-pressed to find one available as the lake would

be littered with them. But today, on this cool January afternoon, no one had braved the

water.

"I can't decide which time of year is my favorite out here," Carrie said. "I like the quiet of

winter, like today. But I miss the greenness of spring and summer. When I sketch in the

winter, I try to find something bright, something colorful. Like one of the red canoes on

the water, for instance."

"I've never seen you here before but I take it you're familiar with the lake," Jill said.

"I'm familiar with the lake, yes. I don't often come here to the park, though. Especially

during the summer. Way too many kids running around," she said. "Not that I have anything

against kids. They're just... disturbing," Carrie said with a laugh.

"Yes, I'll have to agree."

Carrie laughed. "Let me guess. You have a teenager."

Jill nodded. "A daughter."

"Oh, my."

"She's fourteen, thinks she's eighteen and acts like ten. Do you have kids?"

Carrie nodded. "Two boys. Josh is seventeen and will graduate in May. Aaron is fifteen.

Couldn't ask for better kids. Josh has always been mature for his age, and thankfully, they

get along well. Josh actually enjoys being taxi service for Aaron, so that saves me right

there. He's taken his role of big brother very seriously."

"Angie is at the I Hate My Mother stage," Jill explained.

"It's a girl thing," Carrie said. "My mother reminds me I was at that stage for fifteen

years," she said with a laugh.

They approached the swim area, deserted this time of year except for the ducks that

were sunning themselves on the sand. As if sensing a free lunch, no less than ten came over

to meet them. Carrie handed Jill several slices of bread and they went about the fun chore

of tearing it up and tossing it to the clamoring ducks at their feet.

"Oh, here she comes," Carrie said, pointing to a late arrival. "I call her Grandma Duck."

"Is she old?"

Carrie shrugged. "I have no idea. But she's more gray than brown, and see how she limps."

Carrie squatted down. "Here, sweetie," she murmured, tossing bread to the old duck.

Jill watched, smiling as Carrie shooed the other ducks aside so Grandma Duck could eat.

"I've seen her around for years," Carrie said. "She's a tough old broad."

The loaf of bread was devoured quickly, so they made their way back to the park bench. It

was a fun hour but it passed far too quickly.

"Can I ask you something?"

Carrie nodded. "Sure."

"Have we met before?"

Carrie laughed. "You too? I've been thinking about it since yesterday. You seem so familiar

to me."

"I know. But I don't think we've met." Jill allowed her eyes to linger on Carrie's pale blue

ones. "Surely we would remember."

Carrie's eyes turned serious. "Perhaps in another life," she murmured.

Jill was about to say she didn't believe in that sort of thing but the familiarity in Carrie's

eyes told her it might be true. "Perhaps."

Carrie smiled, her eyes softening. "And perhaps I'll see you again."

CHAPTER FIVE

Jill was surprised to see Craig's truck in the driveway when she got home that afternoon.

She knew he didn't have a game but they usually practiced after school. She noticed two

things when she walked into the kitchen. One, dinner was in the oven. He'd apparently

found the casserole she'd made the night before. And two, the washer and dryer were