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.”If Trish could be biologically related to either one of her adopted parents, she wouldpick Devlin.In her own way, Trish loved Delores, but the woman was exhausting.Shetried too hard, always wanting to fit in and be noticed.Devlin didn’t worry about those things, probably because he worked too much and too hard to notice.He was who hewas, like it or not.Serious confidence and swagger came from living like that.The man was charismatic, decent, and true…just like Tony.Trish made the connection so swiftly and easily, her head lightened.“Is Tony good tome?” she asked, repeating her father’s question, staring off into space.“Yes, he is.Very.”He was kind enough to bring her diet caffeine-free soda.When she was around him,she couldn’t help but laugh.And he helped her.Big time.From work projects to this… She smoothed a palm below her belly button.Using her father’s criterion of kindness,laughter, and helpfulness, Tony was far better to her than Stu had ever been.Plus, Tony thought she was beautiful in a sweatshirt with messy hair.Even her mother wouldn’t goso far as to say that.“Then I don’t see any harm in it, Dolores.Tell Mary Perrault to mind her ownbusiness and go make me a sandwich for lunch.”Dolores gasped, but she regally rose from her chair and walked toward the kitchen.“She only wants the best…for all of us.Try to remember that.” Devlin kissed Trish onthe head again and playfully swatted her arm with his golf hat.“Stay for lunch if you can.”Trish left five minutes later, after kissing her mother and assuring her for thethousandth time that tattoos were not a prediction of future prison time.She wasn’t sure if she managed to allay all her mother’s fears, but at the very least she propagated the charade should she be carrying Tony’s baby.Better to have her mother think the babywas born from something real than to ever know the truth.And as an added bonus,Dolores wouldn’t be heartbroken when the relationship didn’t “work out.”Trish’s heart pinched and her stomach clenched.She dropped a hand from thesteering wheel to rub away the unrest.The relationship couldn’t work out.Even if onsome level she wanted it.Even if on that same level Tony wanted it, too.The idea that both of them were too comfortable in these romantic roles threw her for a loop as shestood in her foyer the other night, having just closed the door on Stu.Yes, she and Tony shared a mutual attraction.Yes, he was good to her.Yes, hereferred to them as we and us and acted awfully jealous when faced with Stu, but whatwere the chances they could make it work? What were the chances any couple couldmake any relationship work? Wasn’t it something pitiful like fifty percent? With Angie and a potential baby between them, they couldn’t take the risk.They didn’t need bad blood.Break-up blood.Nope, Trish thought, shaking her head.This was better, a little awkward, a littledepressing, a little frustrating too, but certainly far from the misery she’d expect if they tried to be a couple and failed.At least she could pick up the phone and call him without worrying about the call disintegrating into name calling and general post-breakup venom.As if to prove it, she hit a button on her steering wheel and dialed up Tony.He didn’t answer.What should she make of that?• • •Tony looked at Angie striding toward him across Nonna’s narrow backyard, and thenat the ringing phone in his hand.Boss Lady glowed on the screen.Talk about beingbetween a rock and a hard place.He sent the call to voicemail and lifted his butt off the picnic table bench so he could return the phone to his pocket.“Ange.” He nodded.“Tone.” She nodded back, and then she sat beside him with a huff.She hadn’t beenthis close to him on purpose in weeks.“This is stupid.I’m in there watching Ma and Aunt Connie help Nonna into the bathroom, and I’m pissed more at myself than I am at you for the distance between us.So can we quit being mad?”“I’m not mad,” he said, leaning forward, elbows to widespread knees.“Okay, then can I quit being mad?”Angie’s version of an apology was more humorous than heartfelt.He glanced at herover his shoulder, and sure enough, she was squirming against the wooden bench andblinking uncomfortably into the sun.“Yeah, you can quit being mad.” He spied a clover in the grass and stretched toreach it.“Good.” She released a noisy exhale.“You can come back to work in the garage now.You’re paying rent for the space, you know?”“I know.” He popped the head of the pinkish flower from its thin, green stem andtossed both pieces to the ground.“No work?”“I got work.” A recycled materials coffee table, as a matter of fact.“Then get it done,” she said, rolling her right shoulder into his upper back.Tony nodded, letting silence settle between them.Eventually birds on the power linesqueaked.Tony was oddly thankful for the sound.It gave him something to focus onbeside the things that remained unsaid, like Angie not mentioning Trish.He should be the one to ask if this truce extended to her, but after his conversation with Vin, Tony was all Trish-ed out.He didn’t want to think any more about helping her, about wanting her,about why she didn’t want him.“How’s Trish?”It figured.Tony straightened until his mid-back pressed against the weathered table.He dropped his elbows to the scratchy wood and lifted his chin to the blue sky.“Youshould know how she is.You’re her best friend.”“Don’t be an ass, Tony.You’ve seen her more than me lately.”“Whose fault is that?” Maybe it wasn’t nice and all, after Angie came out to makethings right, but still…he didn’t like the idea of Angie being rude to Trish
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