I get Mason settled at home and meet Rick on the porch when he shows up at exactly seven o’clock. Right now, I’m still unsure about introducing him to Mason. If this doesn’t work out, I don’t want my son exposed to men I might casually date. I was happy to see that Rick took the time to make himself look nice—dress shirt, dark jeans, and cowboy boots, no tie but he is looking country sophisticate.

“I hope you don’t mind if we take the truck? I washed it today and it’s nice and clean inside.”

“This is perfectly fine,” I say as he helps me jump up inside.

As I fasten my seat belt, I have to admit his truck does smell nice and clean. Then I see the air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror—new car scent, he did go all out.

He pulls his seat forward and gets something from the back before jumping in. “Here you go, I forgot to give these to you at the door,” he says, handing me a bouquet of fresh flowers.

“They’re beautiful, thank you.” I smile at him as he watches me. “Is something wrong?” I ask.

“No, sorry, you’re just so pretty,” he says before starting his truck.

I smile without saying a word. I think Holly has Rick all wrong. He might be a good catch after all.

Rick takes us out of town to where some of the nicer restaurants are, again showing he isn’t as simple as Holly pegged him to be.

“Mike suggested this Japanese hibachi grill; he said you loved sushi.”

“Oh, I do, but are you okay with it? I mean, I don’t mind if we eat somewhere else.”

“Well, I don’t think I would care for raw fish, but Mike said they do stir-fry and such, so I’ll be okay.”

We sit down at the hibachi bar and we are entertained by the chef as he prepares our food. I didn’t dare tell Rick that Brent and I loved going to the hibachi places back home in California. It’s entertaining to watch Rick enjoy the show as the chef prepares our meal.

“This is really good. I’ve never been to a place like this. I didn’t know it was dinner and a show.” Rick laughs as he continues to watch the chef. “How was the air show?”

“It was okay. I went mostly for Mason. He loves planes.”

“That’s cool. What other things does he like?”

“Oh, I don’t know … boy things, I guess.”

“Does he like playing outside? Or is he more of a video game kind of kid?”

“A little of both. Why?” I ask him, wondering what is with all the questions about my son.

“I’m just curious. Amy says she gave you the peewee football form but you said no. Just wondering why.”

“I’m just not sure if Mason is cut out for sports,” I say before taking a bite of my food.

“You never know unless you try. You know I help coach them, right?”

“No, I didn’t know that. Honestly, I just don’t feel like Mason is interested in sports and I don’t want him getting hurt,” I say, a little more forcefully than I intended, but I feel like I’m being judged over my son.

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m overstepping my bounds. I just know he hasn’t had a father and—” he starts to add before I interrupt.

“Mason is fine and if he is interested in anything, he will come to me and ask like he always does. He doesn’t even remember his dad. We’ve been doing just fine.” I feel myself getting more defensive.

Rick doesn’t comment anymore as he must realize he way overstepped his boundaries when it comes to Mason. He quickly changes the subject and starts talking about fishing and hunting and how the Crimson Tide kicked Tennessee’s butt today.

I smile and try to act interested, now realizing that Holly was right, after all.

We enjoy a quiet ride home. I try to pretend I’m no longer upset about discussing my son. It’s really not Rick’s fault but mine. The thought of any man coming in and making decisions about Mason makes me uncomfortable. He’s my baby. Mine and Brent’s baby, no one else’s.

When we arrive back at Mike and Holly’s, Rick walks me to the door. “You were awful quiet on the way home. I hope I didn’t talk your ear off or piss you off about Mason. When I get on a subject, I tend to keep going on and on.”

“No, you were fine. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.” I try to smooth things over. Truth is, I am still pissed.

“Yeah. I want to do this again, if that’s okay?” he asks.

Here’s my chance to tell him, thanks but I think we should just be friends. Holly is right. Rick and I would never work and I certainly don’t want him turning into some kind of jock. It’s best to just cut my losses here.

“Sure, call me,” I say, chickening out.

“I will.” He smiles, acting relieved. Maybe he was expecting the let’s be friends speech.

That awkward moment arrives where I know he wants to kiss me but no way am I ready for that. So, I quickly give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Good night, Rick. See you tomorrow at church?” I ask to end the night.

“No, I can’t make it, but I’ll call you,” he says as he starts to walk down the steps, getting the hint that I’m not ready for intimacy.

“Okay, good night. Drive safely.” I watch him walk down the driveway when he stops and turns one last time.

“Good night, Olivia. Sweet dreams,” he says before turning away.

Sunday morning, Holly and I take Mason to church while Mike goes to work. I told Holly all about my date with Rick last night over our coffee this morning. She was quick to tell me I told you so.

Sitting in the pew beside me, she leans in and whispers in my ear. “You were right.”

“About what?”

“What you told Mike the other night. We’re pregnant.”

I smile, trying to hold my excitement over finally being an aunt. “Who have you told?”

“Only you so far. I will tell everyone at lunch today when Mike gets there.”

“How many weeks are you?” I ask her, worrying she may be rushing to let everyone know the news, just in case it doesn’t work out.

“Eight weeks is my guess right now. It’s hard to say because my periods have never been regular. It’s early, but seriously, I can’t keep a secret for the life of me, and Mike has this stupid grin on his face now, so I might as well tell everyone.”

We go over to her mom’s for lunch, or as the Southerns call it, dinner. Staying somewhat thin around here is going to be a struggle. Ever since Brent’s death, I find I’ve become an emotional eater, and with so much tempting food wherever I turn, it makes me miss California’s healthier lifestyle.

Mike is able to drop by for lunch so he and Holly can share their big news. She was right, the moment he walks into the house, he has a goofy grin on his face. Even though baby announcements in the Winston family happen quite regularly among the seventeen siblings, everyone is overjoyed for Holly and Mike. Even Mason joins in on the celebrating.

Once we’re home, I pull out the newspaper to start house hunting. Rick gave me his sister Nora’s card and I will call her tomorrow morning. Once again, Tom Sullivan’s picture finds me. He said he would see me soon. Was that just a saying? Is he planning on coming by the library? I will have to make sure I look extra nice each day, just in case. Stop it, this is nonsense. You have no time for this. After my uneventful date with Rick last night, I decide I’m just not ready for this yet. I fold the paper and put it in the magazine rack. Before turning off my light and going to bed, I stare at the picture of Brent and me taken the first day Mason came home. It’s one of my favorite pictures; he is sitting behind me, embracing me as I hold his child. I feel the tears building up as I gently touch the photo. “I miss you, my love.” I kiss my fingers and touch his face.

“This can’t be all we have for funding. I can’t buy what we need with this,” I vent to Amy when I finally am able to access the library account.

“Maybe that’s why Ms. Andrews quit doing much to the library,” Amy says.

“Well, yeah, how could she with this little amount?” I shake my head, wondering what I will do now. “Who heads up the Friends of the Library? I need to talk to them about this,” I ask Amy, whose eyes grow wide. “What?”

“Well, I don’t know. She quit having meetings a few years ago.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Afraid not.” Amy shrugs.

“Well, we have to get that going again. We need funds. Do you have a list of who was on the committee? Who was the contact before?”

“Annie Sullivan used to head up all the fundraisers years ago.”

Annie Sullivan. That name rings a bell. A loud bell. Could it be? “Does she still live in Clover?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah, she and her husband John own Sullivan Aviation. They live near the airport.”

“We have an airport?” I joke.

“Yeah, well, a small one. Mainly they use it for the crop-dusting business.”

“I don’t remember ever seeing it before.”

“It’s out in the country, away from town. Are you sure you lived here before?” she teases.

“Do you think she would be interested in getting it going again?”

“Only one way to find out, and who knows, maybe you will run into her son over there.”

“Her son?” I try to act like I have no clue who she is talking about.

“You know, that hot pilot of yours, Tom Sullivan.”

“I need to worry about Friends of the Library, not finding a date.”

“Why not do both?” Amy teases. “Oh, shoot, I better get going. I have to pick up the kids. Annie and John are good folks. I’m sure they would be more than happy to help you.”

“Maybe I will ride out there tomorrow. I better rush off, too. Nora is meeting me at this house I’m going to look at,” I say as I shut down the computer and prepare to lock up.

“Oh, yeah, you found one already? Is it close to town?”

“Just outside of it. A country home that’s been listed for a while.”

“Are we starting to grow on you? Look out, Olivia, you might become a country girl.” Amy starts laughing.

“Bye, Amy. See you tomorrow.” I roll my eyes and head for my car.

“In one-quarter mile, turn left on Goose Hollow Road,” the GPS alerts me as I drive down the very unfamiliar area outside of Clover. It’s beautiful out here, but if it wasn’t for the GPS, I would be lost.

I begin to slow down, looking for the road when I finally see it, but there is no sign, of course, to verify. Once I make the left turn, I realize I’m no longer on pavement but on a dirt road. This will be a strike against purchasing the house. Absolutely no dirt roads; I don’t want to be that country. I always hated them, even way back when my dad taught me to drive. This Alabama red clay is slick, especially after the rain we had all morning.

“Your destination is on the right,” the GPS chimes again.

I look to the right and all I see is a pine tree forest. The damn thing has to be wrong. As I try to double-check the address I put in, I look up in time to see a yellow plane coming right at me.