Lani served the frittata and they ate. Rule praised the food and said how much he liked the coffee, which Lani prepared to her own exacting tastes, grinding the beans with a top-quality grinder and brewing only with a French press.
He asked Lani about her degree in literature. The two of them seemed to hit it off, Sydney thought. Lani was easy with him, and friendly, from the first. She told him her favorite Shakespeare play was The Tempest. He confessed to a fondness for King Lear, which had Lani groaning that she might love Lear, too. But she had no patience for thickheaded, foolish kings. Sydney didn’t know a lot about Shakespeare, but it did kind of please her, that Rule seemed well-read, that he could carry on a conversation about something other than the Mavericks and the Cowboys.
He turned to her. “And what about you, Sydney? Do you have a favorite Shakespeare play?”
She shrugged. “I saw A Midsummer Night’s Dream once. And I enjoyed it. Everybody falling in love with the wrong person, but then it all worked out in the end.”
“You prefer a happy ending?”
“Absolutely,” she told him. “I like it when it all works out. That doesn’t happen often enough in real life.”
“I like trucks!” Suddenly, Trev was over his shyness and back in the game.
Rule turned to him. “And do you like balls?”
“Red balls! Yes!”
“Good. Because that truck and that ball over there beneath the table? They’re for you.”
Trevor looked away again—too much attention, apparently, from this intriguing stranger.
Sy
dney said, “Tell Rule ‘thank you.’“
“Thank you, Roo,” Trev parroted obediently, still looking away, the soft curve of his round cheek turned down.
But Rule wasn’t looking away. He seemed honestly taken with her little boy. Her heart did more wild and lovely acrobatics, just to look at the two of them, Rule watching Trev, Trev not quite able to meet this new guy’s eyes.
Then Rule said, “Knock, knock.”
Trev didn’t look, but he did say, “Who’s there?”
“Wanda.”
Trev peeked, looked away, peeked again. “Wanda who?”
“Wanda cookie?”
Slowly, Trev turned and looked straight at Rule. “Cookie! Yes! Please!”
Rule actually produced an animal cracker from the pocket of his beautifully made lightweight jacket. He slid a questioning glance at Sydney. At her nod, he handed the cookie over.
“Grrr. Lion!” announced Trev and popped the lion-shaped cookie in his mouth. “Yum.” He chewed and swallowed. “Thank you very much—Orange! Banana! Knock, knock.”
Rule gamely went through the whole joke with him twice. Trev never got the punch line right, but that didn’t have any effect on his delight in the process.
“It never ends,” Lani said with a sigh. But then she grinned. “And you know we wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“All done,” Trev told them. “Get down, Mama. Play trucks!”
So Sydney wiped his hands and face with a damp cloth and swung him down from his booster seat. He went straight for Rule. “Roo. Come. We play trucks!”
“It appears you have been summoned,” Sydney said.
“Nothing could please me more—or almost nothing.” The teasing heat in his glance hinted that whatever it was that pleased him more had something to do with her. Very likely with kissing her, an activity that pleased her a bunch, too.
He tossed his jacket across the family room sofa and went over and got down on the floor with Trev, who gathered all his trucks together so they could roll them around making vrooming noises and crash them into each other. Sydney and Lani cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. And soon enough, it was time to head for the neighborhood park. Lani begged off, so it was just the three of them. Since the small park was only a couple of blocks away, they walked, Trev between Sydney and Rule, holding both their hands.