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towering above her, eyes narrowed with suspicion.
    â€œOh, hi,” she said, striving to sound as though it was perfectly normal for her to be crawling into his yard on herhands and knees. “I suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing here….”
    â€œThe question did cross my mind.”

Three
    â€œI t was the most embarrassing moment of my entire life,” Robin repeated for the third time. She was sitting at the kitchen table, resisting the urge to hide her face in her hands and weep.
    â€œYou’ve already said that,” Jeff grumbled.
    â€œWhat possessed you to even think about going into Mr. Camden’s yard again? Honestly, Jeff, you’ve been warned at least half a dozen times. What do I have to do? String barbed wire between our yards?”
    Although he’d thoroughly disgraced himself, Jeff casually rotated the rim of his baseball cap between his fingers. “I said I was sorry.”
    A mere apology didn’t begin to compensate for the humiliation Robin had suffered when Cole found her on all fours, crawling through his laurel hedge. If she lived to be an old woman, she’d never forget the look on his face.
    â€œYou put me on TV, computer and phone restriction already,” her son reminded her.
    That punishment could be another mistake to add to hergrowing list. At times like this, she wished Lenny were there to advise her. She needed him, and even after all these years, still missed him. Often, when there was no one else around, Robin found herself talking to Lenny. She wondered if she’d made the right decision, wondered what her husband would have done. Without television, computer or phone, the most attractive form of entertainment left open to her son was playing with Blackie, which was exactly what had gotten him into trouble in the first place.
    â€œBlackie belongs to Mr. Camden,” Robin felt obliged to tell him. Again.
    â€œI know,” Jeff said, “but he likes me. When I come home from school, he goes crazy. He’s real glad to see me, Mom, and since there aren’t very many boys in this neighborhood—” he paused as if she was to blame for that “—Blackie and I have an understanding. We’re buds.”
    â€œThat’s all fine and dandy, but you seem to be forgetting that Blackie doesn’t belong to you.” Robin stood and opened the refrigerator, taking out a package of chicken breasts.
    â€œI wish he was my dog,” Jeff grumbled. In an apparent effort to make peace, he walked over to the cupboard, removed two plates and proceeded to set the table.
    After dinner, while Robin was dealing with the dishes, the doorbell chimed. Jeff raced down the hallway to answer it, returning a moment later with Cole Camden at his side.
    Her neighbor was the last person Robin had expected to see—and the last person she wanted to see.
    â€œMom,” Jeff said, nodding toward Cole, “it’s Mr. Camden.”
    â€œHello, again,” she managed, striving for a light tone, and realizing even as she spoke that she’d failed. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
    â€œNo, thanks. I’d like to talk to both of you about—”
    Not giving him the opportunity to continue, Robin nodded so hard she nearly dislocated her neck. “I really am sorry about what happened. I’ve had a good long talk with Jeff and, frankly, I understand why you’re upset and I don’t blame you. You’ve been very kind about this whole episode and I want you to know there won’t be a repeat performance.”
    â€œFrom either of you?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” she said, knowing her cheeks were as red as her nail polish. Did he have to remind her of the humiliating position he’d found her in earlier?
    â€œMom put me on TV, computer and phone restriction for an entire week,” Jeff explained earnestly. “I promise not to go into your fort again, Mr. Camden. And I