On Sat.u.r.day, Charlene met her best friend, Amanda Wright, at the Garden of Eatin', a new cafe that had just opened up in the old Coca Cola bottling plant. The cafe provided food for those visiting the art galleries and studios that now occupied the building. The eatery was trendy for Last Chance. The decor looked like something straight from Columbia or Atlanta, with light wood floors, white linens, and Ball jars filled with wildflowers on every table. Unlike other restaurants in town, the Garden of Eatin' didn't serve barbecue or fried chicken. It did, however, serve a nice selection of wines and fabulous low-cal salads.

An important factor, because Amanda's wedding was slated for mid-August, and both Charlene and her best friend still needed to shed a few pounds to fit into their dresses.

"Do you think orchids or roses?" Amanda asked as she sipped her gla.s.s of Chardonnay.

"I like roses," Charlene said.

"Orchids are cla.s.sier."

"But more expensive. Honey, you don't have to impress Grant with orchids. He loves you, and he's totally down to earth. I wish there were more guys like him around." Charlene took a big sip of her wine. It tasted cold and tangy on her tongue.

"Don't be glum. You're going to catch someone someday. And it will happen when you least expect it. Just look at what happened with Grant and me."

"Actually, there is one guy who fits the bill. But he's my boss."

"You need to give up on Dr. Dave." Amanda's face sobered. It wouldn't be the first time that best friends had a difference of opinion about a man.

"Why?" Charlene asked.

"Because if it hasn't happened yet between you and Dave, it's never going to."

"You're probably right," Charlene said. "The truth is I no longer believe Prince Charming is ever going to waltz into my life when I least expect him. The clock is ticking, and pretty soon what's left of me won't be worth much. According to my master plan, I was supposed to find Mr. Right and have a few babies before I turned thirty."

Of course, she had made those plans as a nineteen-year-old, on that horrible day when she'd done what her parents wanted. She had told herself that there would be other babies for her. She had told herself that Derrick could never be Mr. Right-not if Daddy was able to buy him off so easily.

She'd been patient all these years. Looking for the love of her life. But he'd eluded her. And she'd finally come to realize that she had a weakness for guys who either couldn't commit or, like Dave, were beyond her reach.

"Honey, life has some wild twists and turns in it sometimes. I didn't expect to lose Tom or be a single mom for such a long time. And I sure didn't expect to find Grant the way I did. You just have to keep on being patient."

"Yeah." Charlene took another sip of the wine she shouldn't have ordered because it wasn't on her diet. She stared through the big windows at Palmetto Avenue. Her life had not gone the way she'd expected it.

Amanda leaned in and spoke forcefully. "I can see exactly where your mind is wandering off to. Stop it right now. We're not going to dwell on the past. So I'm changing the subject. What's the scoop on your new neighbor? The Methodists are in an uproar."

Great. She didn't want to discuss Mike Taggart. Sabina's comments about him last Thursday had wormed into her brain, making her second-guess herself. And every time she saw Rainbow, all her deep-down maternal urges came roaring through. She'd seen the little girl a couple of times, going and coming from the apartment next door.

There had been no further tantrums. Aside from Rainbow's crazy, wild hairdo and the fact that the child rarely smiled and never laughed, she seemed to be well cared for.

"I don't know the scoop on Mike Taggart. And I really don't want to talk about him."

"Whoa! What's the deal?"

"I'm not a busybody like Aunt Millie."

"Don't BS me."

Charlene put her wine gla.s.s down and stared at the daisies in the center of the table. "The little girl-his niece, Rainbow-she's so sad. And Mike Taggart is" She didn't exactly know how to explain Mike. He gave off serious bad-boy vibes. She'd been convinced he didn't care about the child. But Sabina had helped her see a different side of him. He had certainly managed to charm the Methodist church ladies.

"What?" Amanda asked in a whisper, pulling Charlene back into the conversation.

"I don't know. The other morning I saw him carrying the little girl over his shoulder while she threw a temper tantrum. It was an ugly scene."

Amanda gave her one of those best-friend stares before she said, "Obviously you're not a parent. Just remember you can't always judge a parent by the behavior of their child. Sometimes hauling a kid over your shoulder is the only d.a.m.n way to get them into their car seat." Amanda had a five-year-old son named Ethan who had been born a few months after his daddy had been killed in Afghanistan, so Amanda knew the ins and outs of parenthood.

"It certainly looked like he was abusing her," Charlene said. "But then I heard the Altar Guild is completely down with his plan to hand the little girl off to Pastor Tim. In fact, they have gone into a matchmaking tizzy, and they've even enlisted Mike's help. Sabina told me that he went down to the antiques mall and practically interviewed her for the job of mother."

Amanda giggled. "He sounds kind of sweet."

"Believe me, there is nothing sweet about Mike Taggart."

"How old is Rainbow?"

"Five maybe. She's of mixed race," Charlene added as an afterthought and immediately regretted her words.

Amanda leaned forward, an avid look on her face. "Ah, I see. She's gotten to you, hasn't she?"

Charlene shrugged. "I guess."

"There's no guessing about it."

"Okay, I'll accept that. But it doesn't change the fact that I feel like the little girl is in trouble. I want to do something to help her. But I have no clue. And thinking about helping her has me kind of scared."

"Scared?"

"I don't know a thing about kids. What makes me think I could help this little girl? And besides, we both know the reason I want to help is all screwed up to begin with." Charlene looked out the window and clamped her back teeth together. She'd already said too much.

Amanda had the good sense not to say a single word. Instead she reached out and patted Charlene's hand. Amanda knew all of her secrets. They had been friends since grade school.

"I need to do something," Charlene said. "But what? I mean, I'm not the kind of person who brings over a cake or a pie. And I wouldn't want him to think I was flirting with him, because I heard that he's a professional gambler, and I'm sure money is the only thing he worships. I've sworn off guys like that."

"Guys like Derrick?"

Charlene gave her best friend a sober stare. "Yes. And Phillip the stockbroker from Charleston, and John the real estate lawyer from Atlanta, and Erik the plastic surgeon from Columbia."

"Good girl. It's important to learn from your failures."

"And there are so many."

"So this has nothing to do with the guy. It's all about the kid, right?" Amanda asked.

"I guess. I feel this compulsion to get involved. It's probably some deep-seated guilt."

"Probably."

"So I should stay away?"

"You won't, Charlene."

"But what should I do?"

"Take her a present. It sounds like she's had a pretty rough time of it. She deserves a little present."

"Like what? I have no idea what a little girl might want."

"Pete the Cat."

"What?"

"It's a book. Just go to Flights of Fancy Bookstore in Allenberg and ask them about it. Get them to teach you the song that goes with it. It's a book about a cat that doesn't let anything bother him. He's cool and adaptable. The book has a wonderful message about going with the flow. Maybe it will help the little girl. And it will probably get you through the door and give you an opportunity to read to her. You can tell a lot about what's going on with a kid if you read to them. And I think you need to do it for yourself, as much as for her."

"But it's not my place."

"Of course it is. It takes a village to raise a child," Amanda said, flashing her dimples.

"I want to."

"Of course you do. And you should. She needs a friend, and you need to channel your guilt into something worthwhile."

"I do?"

Amanda laughed and waved her hand at the waitress. "Yeah, you do. Trust me. So let's get the check, and I'll take you to the bookstore myself. You'll love this book the minute you read it."

And with that, Amanda took charge of Charlene's life.

CHAPTER.

7.

Mike discovered the playground at the elementary school on his way back from the BI-LO. It had a spiral slide, a crawl tube, a bunch of climbing structures, and a big sandbox. Rainbow didn't like the crawl tube, but she took to the sandbox. They spent several hours there on Friday. On Sat.u.r.day he purchased a bunch of inexpensive sand toys at Dollar General, and Rainbow spent most of the afternoon making a sand castle with a little help from Timmy, who joined them in the afternoon.

The playground was deserted, which suited everyone. Mike didn't want to end up chatting with a bunch of young mothers. Timmy seemed a little stiff and uncomfortable playing with the sand toys. And Rainbow didn't talk, so she was probably better off without a bunch of kids around her.

"I've hired a private investigator," Timmy said as he dusted sand from his pants. He left Rainbow and sat with Mike on a bench. "You should know that Andrea insisted upon it. She wants to make sure that Rainbow is in a safe situation."

"Andrea?"

"Dr. Newsome."

"Does she think I'm abusing Rainbow?"

Tim pressed his hands together and hesitated just a moment before he spoke again. "She just wants to make sure Rainbow is safe, Mike. For what it's worth, I know you're not abusing her. Andrea wants to meet with you next week."

"Okay. Did you raise the issue of the cat? Did she have any ideas about how we should handle that?"

"She dismissed it as not important right now. She said we needed to give Rainbow a stable situation." Timmy paused a moment as if gathering his thoughts. "Mike, the truth is, I took a look at the family photo alb.u.ms, and there aren't any pictures of me before the age of about three. I'm not going to be surprised if the investigator comes back and verifies your story. So I think we need to think about finding Tigger a new home."

Mike said nothing. The sudden pressure on his chest made speaking impossible. It suddenly occurred to him that, after all these years, he'd finally found his little brother. And Angie's death might prove to be the catalyst that brought them back together. He might find a family here in Timmy.

And that scared the c.r.a.p out of him at the same time that he longed for it with all his heart. He'd left behind the small, vulnerable kid he'd once been. He'd slammed the door on him. He'd pushed his pain way down deep. He didn't want to drag it all back out again.

But reconnecting with Timmy would require it. If Timmy took Rainbow, would Mike be able to walk away from both of them?

d.a.m.n.

"I'll see what I can do about the cat," Mike said. Focusing on the cat meant he didn't have to take this conversation to any kind of emotional place.

Except Timmy had other ideas. "So," his brother said on a long breath, "tell me about us as kids."

"You were adorable," Mike managed through his tight throat. "Daddy would take you to the grocery store and everyone would ooh and aah over you. Not me. I was the red-headed stepchild. Literally."

Timmy said nothing. He got the message. They sat there quietly for the next two minutes, and then his little brother got up and went back to the sandbox.

Thank G.o.d. It took Mike a good ten minutes to get his heart rate back to normal. He didn't want to drag out these memories, and he wouldn't.

He could hand Rainbow off to Timmy, and they could make some new memories. And he'd go back to Vegas and sign a deal with Dragon Casinos.

Timmy and Mike skirted the minefield of their childhood for the rest of the day, even when Timmy suggested dinner at a barbecue joint called the Red Hot Pig Place. The place was pretty busy, and they got a lot of stares from the other customers, no doubt wondering what two white guys were doing with a kid like Rainbow. Or maybe the people there were Timmy's congregants. It didn't matter.

They got stared at.

To say they all enjoyed dinner would be to exaggerate. Timmy and Mike chowed down on some really good barbecue. Rainbow tried one hush puppy and turned her nose up at the rest.

It was almost Rainbow's bedtime by the time they got back to the apartment. But she needed a bath, because she had sand everywhere. And, of course, she wanted to bring Tigger into the tub with her like a rubber ducky. Tigger wanted no part of that. So the day ended with another battle royale.

And then Mike screwed up and got soap in Rainbow's eye when he washed her hair. And when a lot of Rainbow's hair fell out when he rinsed, Mike kind of freaked. This was what came of feeding her nothing but pizza.

But that's exactly what he planned to do before putting her to bed. He got her dressed in her new Dora the Explorer PJs and let her watch c.r.a.p on the Cartoon Network while he headed for the kitchen.

The kid needed someone competent to take care of her. After watching Timmy play with her today, Mike had concluded that his brother was as clueless about kids as Mike himself.

Rainbow needed a mother. Which meant Timmy needed a wife.

And Sabina Grey wasn't the right choice. The antiques dealer wanted no part of any kind of relationship with Timmy. And Timmy didn't seem all that interested in Sabina.

He would need to compile a list of the single women in town and check them out. He was standing in the kitchen nuking a slice of frozen pizza and thinking about how to approach this subject with Elsie when the doorbell rang.

Boy, Elsie was good. She must have ESP or something.