So I did that.

Chapter Four

The Danger Zone

The next afternoon, not allowing myself to wish I was walking down my lawn toward Mickey’s house for reasons other than just being a neighbor coming over for a barbeque, I walked down my lawn toward Mickey’s house.

I’d spent the day doing the minimal clean up left from the house sale and unpacking Auden and Olympia’s rooms. Since they didn’t take the opportunity, I’d also gone through their things. Anything I hadn’t seen them wear in some time, or I thought might not fit anymore, or they didn’t use, I put in piles with notes asking if I could add it to the next sale the league might put on.

In other words, I stayed busy, mostly so I wouldn’t think on things, however, this only partially worked.

It allowed me not to think of my impending kicking back with Mickey and his children.

But it forced me to think about my children and how lost they were to me.

I powered through this, finished with the kids’ rooms, took a shower and got ready, donning some of the Felicia Hathaway clothes I didn’t sell (but only because I needed something to wear).

Now I was standing at Mickey’s door.

I drew in a deep breath, let it out and hit the doorbell.

I could hear it ringing inside and it was a normal bell, not dulcet and uncommon, like mine.

As I listened to it ring, I allowed myself to hope for two seconds that the Donovan family had forgotten about my visit and had taken a spur of the moment trip to Disneyland.

These hopes were dashed when the door was flung open.

“Hey, Miz Hathaway!” Cillian cried, beaming up at me. Then he declared, “We’re in the kitchen,” turned and started walking into the house.

I took that as what it was, my invitation to follow him, so I did, closing the door behind me.

I wanted to take time to study Mickey’s house but Cillian was moving at a good clip down a short hall toward the back of the house so I didn’t get the chance.

I still took in as much as I could get. And with what I took in I knew that either Mickey had put a goodly amount of effort into making his post-divorce house a home for his children or he’d gotten the house in the divorce.

It was dark, not due to lack of windows, there were a lot of them, nor due to the plethora of wood and wood paneling, but instead due to the fact that Mickey had a number of mature trees on his lot and many of them were close to his home.

The outside of the house made me think the inside would scream Home in Coastal Maine.

I was slightly surprised it didn’t.

When I looked left to take in the living room, above the stone fireplace, there was a beautiful seascape with an old-fashioned boat on it. There were also some of those colorful glass things that were suspended in webs of ropes hanging on the walls.