Page 3 of Always Almost You

She slowed as she approached Darren’s house and noticed an unfamiliar car in his driveway. The taillights glowed red against the darkening afternoon. Lauren continued to the end of the street and made a slow U-turn, pulling into a space along the curb on the opposite side.

“I wonder who’s visiting,” she muttered. “Maybe he ordered something from DoorDash. I should’ve told him I was bringing dinner.” She leaned across the console and reached into the back seat for the rectangular food container, the note still firmly taped to the lid. “I won’t be a second,” she told Pumpkin.

Pumpkin began to growl. The sound deepened as Pumpkin strained against her harness, leaning toward the driver’s side window.

Lauren followed her pup’s gaze.

The taillights went dark. One leg, clad in a high-heeled boot, stepped onto the pavement, followed by the other. A tall woman with long blonde curls emerged from the car, dressed in tight jeans and a stylish leather jacket.

Lauren realized, with sickening certainty, that this was not a delivery driver.

Darren’s front door flew open, light spilling onto the porch. He hurried down the walk and pulled the woman into a long, lingering kiss. Rain began to fall in earnest, slicking the pavement as thunder rumbled in the distance.

Lauren watched, unable to look away, as Darren and the woman turned arm-in-arm and disappeared into the house. The front door closed behind them.

Lauren gripped the steering wheel with both hands and rested her forehead against it. Tears coursed down her cheeks as rain streaked the windshield, blurring the view until everything outside dissolved into shape and shadow.

Pumpkin whimpered and reached out a paw.

Lauren turned toward her. “You knew, didn’t you?” she whispered. “You never liked Darren.”

Pumpkin wagged her tail once, steady and sure.

Lauren slid the food container onto the back seat and unhooked Pumpkin’s seatbelt, lifting her pup into her lap. Pumpkin nuzzled Lauren’s chin and licked away her tears.

Lauren laughed softly and guided her back into the passenger seat. “Thank you, girl,” she said. “That’s exactly what I needed.” She straightened and started the car. The windshield wipers began their steady rhythm, sweeping away rain as Lauren blotted her eyes with a tissue.

“I’m afraid our walk is out of the question,” Lauren said. “Let’s go home. There’s a mountain of dirty dishes waiting for me.”

As she pulled away from the curb, Lauren glanced once more at the house where a man who wasn’t worthy of her was with someone else. Then she turned the car toward home and the quiet kitchen, the waiting table, and whatever came next.

CHAPTER 3

“Hi, Mom. Happy Thanksgiving.” Mike Miller tossed his mechanical pencil onto the architectural drawings spread across the table in front of him and leaned back in his chair. The drafting table was cluttered with tracing paper, scale rulers, and neatly stacked plan sets. Beyond the glass wall of his office, the afternoon light faded, the city outside reduced to a scatter of lights against a gray sky. “Do you mind if I put you on speaker?”

He waited for her reply, then tapped the screen of his phone and set it face up beside the drawings.

“You must be alone,” his mother said, her voice filling the quiet space, “if you can talk on speakerphone. I thought you were going somewhere today.”

“I believe I said I had plans,” Mike replied.

His mother sighed. “That’s true. That is what you said.” Nancy Miller paused. “I assumed that meant you were going to a friend’s for Thanksgiving. I’m guessing you’re at your office, hard at work. That’s what you had planned, isn’t it?”

Mike glanced around the room, taking in the clean lines, the concrete floors, and the framed awards on the wall he rarely noticed anymore. “Guilty as charged,” he said, chuckling.

“How can you want to spend Thanksgiving in your office?” she asked. “That makes me so sad. And you love a traditional Thanksgiving meal.”

“I’m still going to have one,” Mike said. “I ordered Thanksgiving in a box from a local restaurant. The online reviews from last year said it was fabulous. I’ll heat it up when I get home.”

“Are you so busy that you can’t spend one day away from the office?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Mike said. “You know I’m designing an addition to a home in one of the swankiest zip codes in Los Angeles. The client requested a few modifications, and I want to get them to the planning department as soon as possible.” He straightened a stack of drawings as he spoke, aligning the edges until they were perfectly square. Order always helped him think.

“I hate imagining you alone in your office,” his mother said.

“I love my work, and I’m comfortable here,” Mike replied. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Honestly, I’ll be working every day between now and when I come home for Christmas. I’ll finish everything so I don’t have to bring work with me.”

“Good,” his mother said firmly. “The last thing I want is for you to be distracted with work when you’re finally home. Your sister and your nephews are beyond excited. It’s been five years since you’ve been home for a holiday. We’ve got plans, and we’re not reserving any time for you to work.”