“Whatever you want,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I doubt I’ll ever be well enough to take my yard back.”

“Next week…walking and swimming. You’ve just got to get your strength back. And your balance.”

“The doctor said if I fell again and injured my back, it could paralyze me.”

“Mom, I think he meant that only at first, when you left the hospital. Your injuries are long healed.”

“They don’t feel like they’re healed.”

“Look, not to blame Frankie, but he waited on you hand and foot, Mom. He never gave you a chance to get back to normal.”

“The doctor said I’d never walk without a limp.”

“Yeah…a limp. Not a walker or a wheelchair.”

“I went to physical therapy. It didn’t help.”

Laura held up her hand. “Let’s don’t argue. I can imagine you at physical therapy.”

“Are you saying I didn’t try?”

“I’m saying, you got back home from physical therapy and Frankie treated you like an invalid…thus you stayed one.” She held her hand up again. “Truce. It’s too nice an evening to argue.”

Her mother nodded. “The patio table looks nice.”

Laura followed her gaze. The little round table with the red cloth was already set for dinner. A square candle sat in the middle, the light bouncing around as the gentle breeze moved the wick back and forth. Yes…nice. Romantic, almost.

She blew out her breath before taking a sip of her drink. Not romantic, no. Romantic was probably next door…with the outdoor kitchen, the pool…Cassidy…and the naked model.

She let out her breath again with an audible sigh, suddenly feeling a twinge of loneliness.

Where did that come from?

* * *

Cassidy moved the chicken to a cooler side of the grill and closed the lid. There was a divine aroma of steak coming from next door and she was quite jealous. It didn’t surprise her, however, that Laura would like steak.

“Come on back in,” Ashly beckoned from the pool. “The water is simply wonderful.”

Ashly was in a bikini now, but it barely covered more than when she was naked. Cassidy was in her most conservative one-piece, ignoring Ashley’s attempts at getting her to toss the suit. Actually, she was ready to toss the suit—for clothes. The air was a little cooler this evening and now that she was out of the water, she felt the chill.

“I need to get the chicken off pretty soon. I think I’ll head in for a change. Will you be okay out here alone?”

“Oh, sure. I wouldn’t mind another margarita though.”

“Of course. There’s still some left in the pitcher.” The pitcher that Ashly had been drinking from since the afternoon. She was going to have a wallop of a headache in the morning, no doubt.