risk a mathematical error that could result in a tragic accidentâa building not as sturdy as it needed to be, a bridge that cracked. These were his real nightmares.
Almost of its own accord, Sethâs Bronco headed in the opposite direction from home, toward a part of town he no longer had any reason to visit.
So why were his nights filled with a couple of sullen little faces and a more determined beautiful one? It had been four months since Lauraâs ultimatum. Four months.
He felt as raw as if sheâd hurled those hateful words only yesterday. They were as clear in his mind as if she had.
Hell, it wasnât like sheâd been a permanent fixture
in his life. Or her kids, either. Heâd only met them the previous summer when heâd shown up to coach soccer to a bunch of underprivileged kids and met a little boy with a whole lot of defensiveness but a lot of talent, too. Heâd been drawn to Jeremy from that very first day, thinking of him at odd times through the weeks that followedâtrying to figure out a way to help him.
And the boyâs mother... He could still remember the first time heâd stopped by Jeremyâs house to speak to his parents about the boyâs talent. Heâd thought Laura was the boyâs sister when she answered the door. Her silky blond hair had been hanging loose over a frayed tank top. And her cutoff shorts had had more holes in them than her tennis shoes.
Heâd been poleaxed right from the start. And that was before sheâd even opened her mouth, before heâd discovered her indomitable strength. Before heâd found out the good newsâshe was single. Divorced.
The Bronco sped down the exit ramp. Seth didnât reduce his speed as he continued on.
And Susan. What in hell had gotten into his sister? Didnât she know she was his hero? That he measured everything he did by her standards? How could she do something as stupid, as heartless, as to even consider bringing a child into the world simply because sheâd written it down in her damn planner? Who was going to raise that child, nurture him, love him, while Susan spent fourteen hours a day at work?
The soccer field came into view before he slowed down enough to be cautious. Jeremy might not even be there. Heâd probably quit practicing the second Seth walked out the door of his motherâs house. Or
maybe it had been the next week, when heâd gone to soccer practice and discovered that Seth was no longer his coach.
At least he knew the kid was still on the team. He supposed that was something.
And what would Seth say to the boy if Jeremy was at the field by himself? âHey, kid, good to see ya. Sorry you werenât important enough to me.â
Right. Just what a nine-year-old needed to hear. Face it. That was exactly what Jeremy was thinking, anyway. The kidâs father had run out on him. Heâd expected Seth to do the same. And Seth had obliged.
The field was empty, just as heâd realized it would be. Of course, it was January. Freezing. Who kicked around soccer balls at eight-thirty on a January night?
Jeremy would have. If Seth had still been around to encourage him. The boy had ability. And he loved to play. Soccer was the one thing that could help Seth get through to Jeremy. That could make Jeremy feel good about himself.
Driving by Lauraâs house was a given.
Maybe he should stop in to say hello. Just to make sure they were all right. There were lights on in the front room, and a glow from the television that appeared to be Jeremyâs only solace these days, his only escape.
The front yard was still nothing but a tiny square of hard dirt; the sidewalk was cracked, pieces missing; half the porch sagged. Heâd repeatedly offered to set her up in a better place, a better part of town. Sheâd refused every time. And when he couldnât stand having her there any longer, when heâd found her a place on his own, made