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the hard way that remaining silent about unfinished business seldom worked with Nicole. Maybe it didn’t work with any woman, though it’s what he would’ve done if he’d had a tiff with his brother or his dad back in the day. With guys, if they both left it alone, things usually blew over and got back to normal.
         It was late by the time he fell into bed in his cheap hotel room, but he had a hard time falling asleep. Greg could understand Nicole being upset at his being away over Mother’s Day, but there seemed to be more to it than that. Why hadn’t their mini-vacation done more to calm the waters? He thought it was what she’d been asking for, but somehow, they were still missing each other lately, and he couldn’t figure out why.
     
    * * * *
       
    Two Powersports people got sick Friday afternoon—Greg suspected food poisoning from the taco vendor next to their management booth—and Hastings told Greg he needed him to help shut down. When Greg protested, his boss snorted. “Hey, man, whaddaya got to complain about. I probably won’t get home till Sunday night.”
         Hastings finally let him go Saturday afternoon.
         Greg had no idea when the party Becky wanted him to attend that evening was supposed to start, but an accident on I-94 turned the southbound lanes into a parking lot.
         As a result, the sun was nearly setting by the time he got home, and he was met at the door by two bouncing kids screaming, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” while their puffy eyes and red noses betrayed that they’d been crying. He pushed his way into the house and dropped his bag as both kids pulled on his arms.
         Nicole came out of the kitchen with The Look hardening her features. “They thought you’d forgotten.” Before he could think what to say, she added, “Well, did you?”
         “Of course not. Didn’t get away till nearly four and hit bad traffic—probably an accident.” He gritted his teeth. What else could he say? She obviously thought he was responsible for these recent disappointments. But not wanting to make matters worse, he smiled to cheer things up. “But I made it.” He dropped to one knee and gave both kids a big hug and smooch, launching them into the “wiggle giggles,” as he called them.
         Becky tugged on his arm. “Come on, Daddy. The party’s about to start.”
         He looked up at Nicole. “Can you fill me in on this? What’s it about?”
         She shrugged. “Something to do with Mrs. Krakowski, you know, the elderly lady who used to live in the two-flat up the street. Mrs. Bentley—the people who bought her house—came by and invited us the other day. Said Mrs. Krakowski was returning to live in their first-floor apartment, and they thought it would be nice if everyone turned out for a yard party to welcome her home.”
         He decided not to say he barely knew the woman. “What time?”
         “She said eight o’clock.”
         Greg looked at the clock on the fireplace mantel across the living room. “Guess we better get goin’, eh, kids?” He eyed Nicole. “You coming?”
         She waved dismissively. “Go ahead. I’m not quite ready.”
         “You look okay.”
         “I still need a few minutes, but I’ll be along in a bit. Oh, we saved some supper for you. You can have it when you get back.”
         Food. He was suddenly famished. “We supposed to bring anything?”
         She shrugged. “Didn’t say. Bentleys are the ones who brought around those cinnamon rolls when they first moved in. She’ll probably provide some snacks.”
         Greg wished Nicole was coming now. He didn’t know that many of the neighbors. Maybe she did, could introduce him if he forgot a name. Wasn’t like her to miss something like this. “Uh, kids. Give me a minute to change into some jeans and a T-shirt.” But Nicole still wasn’t ready by the time he and the kids headed out the door.