Meant-to-Be Mum. Karen Templeton

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      The boy stared at him for a long moment, then suddenly, and awkwardly, launched himself into Cole’s arms to give him a sweaty, slightly funky hug.

      And Cole thought that this was all he could want. Or need. Or, as his son so succinctly put it, handle.

      Wes pulled free, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “C’n I go play on the computer for a little while?” He grinned. “I’m on level sixty-four.”

      “No kidding?”

      “Yep. Nobody else in school—my old school, I mean—was even close.”

      “Huh. Clearly I didn’t make it hard enough.”

      “Oh, it’s plenty hard, believe me,” Wes said, his cheeks dimpling. “Can’t help it if I’m a genius.”

      “Well, genius, only for an hour. It’s already late. You guys need to be in bed.”

      His son made a face, but he knew better than to argue. The bedtime rules—at least with Cole—had been set in stone from the time they were babies. And yet, they’d still wanted to come live with him.

      After Wes went inside, Cole settled back in his chair, watching his daughter. It’d become a game, over the past few days, to see who’d run out of steam first—her or the dogs. So far, the dogs had won, every time. Lots of energy packed into those squat little bodies—

      His phone rang. He dug it out of his pants pocket, frowning at the unfamiliar number.

      “Cole here—”

      “Yeah, so your sister said,” a familiar voice barked in his ear. “Not that you’d bothered to tell me.”

      “I was going to call you tomorrow, I swear,” he said, and the old woman snorted. Loudly. Aunt Lizzie had always been his mother’s favorite aunt, hovering around ninety and with an attitude befitting a former Rockette who’d once “dated,” or so the story went, someone high up in New York politics. After years of fighting the family about giving up her house in town, a broken hip two years before had finally convinced her to move into a retirement community, where she’d been blissfully raising hell ever since.

      “So I need a favor,” she said, as though it hadn’t been months since they’d talked.

      Cole’s brows arched. Fiercely independent, Lizzie rarely asked for anything from anyone. One of the reasons Cole hadn’t seen her was because she’d made it clear ages ago she didn’t want anyone clinging to her any more than she wanted to cling to them.

      “Oh?”

      “Yeah. This friend of mine up here at Sunridge, she invited all of us to come to her granddaughter’s wedding next Saturday. When I asked your sister a couple weeks ago she said she’d take me, so I wouldn’t have to ride that god-awful community bus with all the old biddies. So I call her a couple minutes ago to make sure she remembers, and what does she say? That she totally forgot, she and Andy are taking George up to Adelphi that day to tour the place. Can you believe that sweet little boy is going to college next year? Damn, I’m getting old. But anyway. She said I should call you. So here I am. Calling. Can you take me?”

      Cole smiled. “Don’t see why not. But I’ve got the kids—”

      “For the weekend?”

      “No,” he said quietly. “For good.”

      Silence. Then, “And you were planning on telling me this, when?”

      “Tomorrow. When I called. It’s a brand-new development, Lizzie,” he said when she snorted again.

      “So bring ’em. Anybody can come to the ceremony. And that way I’ll get to see them. ’Cause it’s been a while, you know.”

      “Hey. Not my fault you were on a cruise the last time they were here.”

      “Okay, you might have a point. Although remind me to never let Myrtle Steinberg talk me into going anywhere with her again. Alaska was pretty and all, but not exactly rife with hot young men in Speedos—”

      “So who are these people?” Cole said before the discussion got worse. Which, with Lizzie, was a foregone conclusion. “The ones getting married?”

      “What? Oh. Well, like I said, my friend’s granddaughter. Laurel. Lovely girl, brings her baby boy when she comes to visit. Adorable, both of them. She’s marrying one of the Noble boys, actually. The youngest one, I think. You still keep up with that Sabrina?”

      Cole’s heart knocked against his ribs. “How on earth would you remember Sabrina? You only met her once. At graduation.”

      “Once before that, too. When I was still living over on Edgewood. You’d brought over a cake or something your sister had made, and Sabrina was with you. You don’t remember that?”

      “Um...sure?”

      Lizzie snorted. “And they say old people are the ones with the sketchy memories—”

      Panting, Brooke tromped over to the patio, collapsing into the same chair recently vacated by her brother. She frowned, pointing to her ear. Cole held up one hand as Lizzie repeated her question. Because one did not evade Lizzie.

      “So you two still keep up?” she asked.

      “Actually...I saw her today. First time since graduation.”

      “Get out. So what’s she up to?”

      “I don’t know, really. She didn’t say. She’s been living in New York, though.”

      “No fooling? Good for her. Sure, I’m okay with living out here now, I’m old as dirt. Who the hell needs to fight those crowds anymore? Not me, that’s for sure. But to be young and living in the city...” He heard her sigh. “But you say she’s back?”

      “Visiting, apparently. Because the rest of her family is still here.”

      “So I suppose she’ll be there. At the wedding?”

      “I...imagine so.”

      “Then I’ll get to see her. She still cute?”

      Cole laughed in spite of himself. “She’s the same age as me, Lizzie. Thirty-five.”

      “And I’m ninety-one next birthday. And still cute as a damn button. Although why buttons are supposed to be cute, I have no idea. Okay, gotta go scope out a good spot for the movie before all the good chairs are taken, I’ll see you on Saturday. The wedding’s at two, but pick me up at one-fifteen, I want to get a good seat in the church. And dress nice, for God’s sake, I got an image to keep up!”

      “Dad? What was that all about?”

      His phone pocketed, Cole turned to his daughter. “Your grandmother’s aunt Lizzie asked me to take her to a wedding on Saturday. Meaning you guys get to go, too.” He frowned. “Do you even have a dress?”

      A look of utter horror flashed in his daughter’s eyes. “I have to wear a dress?”

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