Starting Now (6 page)

“This isn’t so bad,” Robin said as she started walking.

Libby smiled, knowing what was coming. “I’m glad you decided to join me.”

Robin glanced her way and muttered, “Fat.”

Libby laughed. She was glad Robin had followed through. It would have required an act of Congress to tear Libby away from the office for something as trivial as exercise.

“This … will help me to … lose weight … right?” Robin already sounded winded and she wasn’t five minutes into the routine.

“Yeah. I’m down another pound.” Again, it would have been less painful to melt the weight off with a blowtorch, but she wasn’t telling Robin that. Her friend was about to discover that for herself. Still, she wondered why it’d been so easy to convince Robin to work out with her. “What made you decide to do it?” Libby’s pace had increased and she worked her arms at her sides.

“What?” Robin gasped.

“Join the gym.”

“Oh … I don’t know.”

Libby frowned. She knew Robin, or thought she did. The two of them were cut from the same cloth. Robin didn’t do anything without
a reason, without knowing the end result. Then it hit her. There was more going on than sweating off a few extra pounds. Robin was doing this for a man.

“You dating anyone?” Libby asked, hoping to sound casual.

Robin jerked her head toward her so fast she might have injured her neck. “No. What makes you ask?”

“No reason.” Libby wasn’t sure Robin believed her. The machine had her half-running now and at an angle that made talking impossible. She kept her gaze focused ahead instead of looking at the timer that flashed the minutes left in her program. Directly in front of her several men lifted weights, their upper arm muscles bulging. Frankly, they were just the distraction she needed. Eye candy.

Robin and Libby finished at the same time. Libby grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from her face. Robin looked about the same as Libby had her first day—as if she were ready to vomit.

“You okay?”

Robin stared back at her. “You know CPR, right?”

Libby smiled. “Yeah, I got certified in high school.”

They entered the locker room and sat down on the bench to collect their breath.

“When was the last time you went on a date?” Robin asked.

Libby had to think about it. Following her divorce she’d basically avoided relationships. Getting involved hadn’t seemed like a good idea until she made partner, if she wanted to avoid the pitfalls of her failed marriage. Their conflicting schedules certainly didn’t help. Joe cooked the dinner shift while Libby maintained a normal daytime work schedule, so they rarely saw each other. By the time she was home from the office, he was already at the diner. After a while they became more roommates than lovers. As the months progressed their worlds seemed to grow farther and farther apart.

Libby vividly remembered the day she’d arrived home to discover that Joe was at the apartment instead of the diner. At first she’d been thrilled to see him, but then she realized why he was there. He was packing up to move out.

“Joe?” she’d asked, hardly able to believe this could be happening. Even now she felt her stomach tightening at the memory.

Her husband refused to look at her. Instead he continued collecting his clothes and personal items almost as if she wasn’t in the room.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“It should be obvious.” He continued to avoid eye contact, intent on carting his shirts from the closet to the suitcase he’d spread open atop their bed. “Nothing’s going to change, Libby. You have your life and I have mine. You don’t want to admit it, so I will. You’ve got dreams, and that’s great. You’re the best, but I’m a regular Joe, no pun intended. I don’t want anything more than a wife and a few kids.”

“But I thought we agreed—”

Joe cut her off. “I can see the writing on the wall. There’s never going to be a convenient time for you to have one baby, let alone two or three.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he continued.

“A family would hold you back. I’m not angry, Libby, really I’m not. I want you to have the things you want. But I have dreams, too, and my dreams clash with yours. It’s time we recognized we aren’t both going to be able to have the things we want … at least not together.”

He was right, and deep down Libby had recognized the truth of it. After a few weak arguments she let him go. It’d broken her heart to watch him cart his suitcases out the door.

Their divorce was probably one of the most amicable ones in history. Once it was final, they met for lunch and hugged afterward. Libby cried against his shoulder and Joe held her close and tight. Then they broke apart, walking away in separate directions. He’d remarried within a year, a waitress from the diner. Although they were no longer in contact, she wished Joe love and happiness.

That was three years ago. Three long years. She regretted her failed marriage, and afterward had thrown herself into her career even more. Following her mother’s advice had sustained her through the loneliness and the sense of loss that accompanied her breakup
with Joe. Perhaps she could look back at that painful period after this morning and feel that it had all been worth it.

“A date,” she repeated. “It must be more than a year ago now. What makes you ask?”

Robin shrugged.

“What about you?”

“Longer.”

Libby sympathized. “Anyone interested?” Clearly Robin had a reason for bringing up the subject again.

“A man interested in me?” Robin repeated. “Not that I’ve noticed.”

“Anyone you find interesting?” Libby asked.

Robin popped up like a jack-in-the box and headed for the shower. “I’ve got to get to work.”

So that was it. Robin had a crush on someone. Well, well, well. Good for her. And they were enough alike that Libby understood the problem: Robin didn’t have a clue what to do about it. Libby wouldn’t have had, either. Relationships were often complicated, and getting involved could get sticky. It must be someone in Robin’s office. Although it was tempting, Libby didn’t pry. Robin would tell her when she was ready.

Libby grabbed her towel and followed her friend into the shower room.

She was dressing when Robin joined her. “I went back to that yarn store,” Libby mentioned casually, hooking up her bra.

“Oh? Are you knitting a project?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you knitting?”

“Preemie hats for Seattle General. I knit ten Friday night and ran out of yarn so I went back on Saturday to buy more. I knit another twenty over the weekend.”

Robin laughed. “As compulsive as ever.” She grabbed her workout bag. “See you Wednesday.”

“See ya,” Libby echoed.

Libby returned to A Good Yarn that same morning only to find a
sign on the door indicating that the store was closed on Mondays. Seeing movement inside, she peered through the front window, her nose pressed against the glass and her hands at the sides of her head to block the reflection. She saw Casey and Lydia inside the shop.

Casey noticed her and hurried to the door, unlatching it. “We’re closed.”

“So I see. I came to drop off the hats I knit,” Libby explained. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Come in,” Lydia invited, joining her daughter. “I was just doing some paperwork and Casey and Ava were going to walk over to Seattle General to deliver the hats.”

“If you’d like, I’ll go with you,” Libby said. She wasn’t sure what made her volunteer, but she could see from the way Lydia reacted that she was glad that she wouldn’t need to send the girls off without an adult.

“That would be great.”

“My pleasure.” She had the time, so why not?

Ava avoided looking at her, but when she did, she offered Libby a shy smile.

“We have over two hundred hats,” Casey announced proudly. “The hospital goes through them real fast.”

“I think they share the hats with a number of other facilities in the Puget Sound area,” Lydia explained.

Casey and Ava divided the load between them, carting it in two plastic bags.

“Deliver the hats directly to Sharon Jennings on the third floor,” Lydia instructed. “Have reception notify Sharon and she’ll make sure you get passes.” Lydia walked them to the door and saw them out.

The three started down the sidewalk past the flower shop. As an adult, Libby had never spent much time with kids and wasn’t sure how to start a conversation. She needn’t have worried—Casey liked to chatter.

“Did you know I’m adopted?”

“I didn’t,” Libby said.

“I was twelve and came as a foster kid. Lydia and Brad wanted a baby but they got me instead. I have a little brother; he isn’t adopted—he’s from Brad’s first marriage. I have a real brother, too. He’s in jail right now. I write him and he’s happy that I’m part of a family.”

“Oh. Does he need an attorney?” asked Libby, only half-joking.

Casey laughed, apparently finding the offer amusing. “It’s too late for that. Lee’s getting out soon and is thinking about joining the army if he can. Brad told me the army has high standards these days and they might not take him.”

“You have a brother, too, don’t you, Ava?” Libby asked, wanting to draw the other girl into the conversation.

Ava nodded.

“He’s two years older and a real pest,” Casey supplied. “Ava lives with her grandmother and her grandmother works.”

“So you’re alone most of the day?” Libby turned it into a question, looking down at the young teen.

Ava nodded. “She doesn’t get home until late, so I cook dinner.”

“I bet she appreciates that.” After her mother died, Libby had taken over the responsibility of meals for her and her father. Her repertoire of recipes had been limited, but her father rarely commented or encouraged her. Perhaps that was why Libby never enjoyed spending time in the kitchen. No need, considering what an excellent cook Joe was. He’d done the majority of the cooking. Following the divorce she missed his home-cooked meals almost as much as she missed him.

“Grandma doesn’t eat much,” Ava added. “After work she goes to the tavern to unwind with her friends.”

“Oh.” Libby wasn’t sure what to say. This bit of information spoke volumes, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Ava’s home life wasn’t all that wonderful. “Where’s your father?”

Ava shrugged. “Don’t know. I haven’t seen him since I was a kid.”

But she was still a kid.

The hospital sat at the crest of a hill in a district known as Pill Hill, just north of downtown Seattle. The last couple of blocks were a
steep climb. Either Libby was in better shape than she realized or the hats were heavier than they looked because Ava seemed to have a difficult time keeping up with her and Casey.

Seattle General’s front entrance came into view. “Do you know Sharon Jennings?” Libby asked.

Casey nodded. “I went with Mom once when she dropped off the hats. I didn’t talk to Sharon, but I know what she looks like.”

“We’ll find her,” Libby said confidently.

The hospital’s glass doors automatically glided open as they approached. The information desk was just a few feet inside the entrance. Libby led the way and waited until the woman behind the counter finished her phone conversation.

“How can I help you?”

“We’re here to deliver preemie hats to Sharon Jennings,” Libby explained.

The receptionist took their information and then contacted Sharon.

“Third floor,” she said, as she handed them visitor badges. “Take the elevator on the right-hand side.”

“Thank you.” Libby led the girls to the elevator, pushed the button, and waited.

It arrived and they stepped inside. Just before the doors glided shut a physician entered. He glanced at the buttons but didn’t push one—he was apparently headed to the same floor they were. He looked at Libby and then the girls and then back at Libby. His gaze narrowed slightly before he looked away.

Libby recognized him immediately. She’d seen him before, but she couldn’t recall where. Perhaps that look, or whatever it was, had been one of recognition, and he was trying to figure out where he knew her from.

“I know you,” he said.

“I recognize you, too.”

He frowned again, with a faint look of disapproval.

What an unfriendly man, Libby mused. Well, it takes all kinds. Then she remembered where she’d last seen him. He was the eye
candy she’d been studying at the gym that very morning. “You work out at Frankie and Johnny’s,” she said. As soon as she spoke, Libby wished she’d kept her mouth closed.

He clearly recognized her now, too, but apparently she must have irritated him in some way. He didn’t smile or comment.

“What’s the matter, did I take the machine you wanted?” she asked, bristling. He probably thought she was fat. Seeing how perfect his body was in practically every way.

He ignored her question.

“You know Libby?” Casey asked him, apparently oblivious to the tension between them. The girl didn’t have a shy bone in her body.

“I’ve seen her at the gym,” the doctor said, and grinned at the young teen. It was a really nice smile, and one he hadn’t bothered sharing with Libby. The sad part was that she wished he had. Now she was certain it was those extra pounds, or maybe he somehow knew she’d been unemployed for months. Libby crossed her arms protectively and then, realizing what she’d done, promptly dropped them again and squared her shoulders. She certainly didn’t need his approval.

“I’m Casey and this is my friend Ava,” Casey continued brightly, all smiles.

Ava gave him one of her timid looks.

“Phillip Stone,” he said.

Libby noticed how his gaze lingered on Ava and a frown briefly brought his brows together before he turned his attention back to Libby. It seemed like he was about to say something when Casey spoke.

“We’re delivering preemie hats for the babies from the yarn store.”

“Did you knit them yourselves?”

“Not all of them,” Casey said, “but some.”

Dr. Stone ignored Libby entirely. “That’s a terrific thing you’ve done. It’s important to keep the preemies warm. A lot of heat escapes through their heads, so the hats are very much appreciated.”

“That’s what Mom said.”

Phillip’s gaze went to Libby and once again he frowned. Libby was
about to ask what his problem was when the elevator stopped and the doors slid open.