“Yeah, sure.” Stephen shot her a look that called her a liar and a hypocrite as he pronged a forkful of pancakes. “You’re always telling me to give people a chance.”

“Is that what you want?” she asked and her son looked away.

“Dunno,” he admitted, then nodded. “I think we should go to the wedding.”

“Too late.” She felt a sheen of perspiration coat her body.

“I want to go!” Christina said, her face smeared with syrup, her hands a sticky mess.

“Not this time.”

“He’s our grandfather!” Stephen challenged.

“I know, but—”

“This is something your mom has to deal with in her own way,” J.D. interjected and Tiffany felt as torn as she had when she’d first learned of John Cawthorne’s wedding.

“Maybe later we can all get to know each other,” she said, realizing that her son was somewhat isolated down here. He’d left friends in Portland when they’d moved. The few he’d made here were trouble. She took a long swallow of her coffee and thought about the cousins that he had. Her half-sister Katie had a boy, Josh, a few years younger than Stephen and Bliss was going to marry Mason Lafferty, who had a daughter, Dee Dee, from his first marriage. Surely there would be a baby on the horizon. And Katie had three brothers, none of whom were married, but who might link up with women who already had children.

With bone-chilling certainty Tiffany realized that Stephen was reaching out for a family, longing for more than he had, searching for a father figure. Just as she had when she’d been his age.

Tears stung her eyes and her hands shook as she set her cup on the table. “We can’t go to the wedding today, but—”

“You mean you won’t go,” Stephen interrupted.

“But I’ll see that we get together with your . . . grandfather and his new wife soon.”

“Goody!” Christina said, throwing up her hands and losing a piece of bacon from her fist. It fell to the floor only to be sniffed at disdainfully by a curious Charcoal who had been sunning himself near the window.

J.D. looked like he had more to say, but one glance at Tiffany seemed to tell him that she was having trouble with the discussion, so he quickly changed the subject to fixing up the house with Stephen’s help.

“What do you mean?” Stephen asked when J.D. suggested they start with the fence.

“We’ll shore it up, replace a few boards and then work on the porch or the windows.”

“I don’t know how to do anything like that.”

J.D.’s eyes glinted. “Then it’s time you learned.”