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space to calm down and that anything she said would only upset him more. It was unfair for him not to have a father like “everyone” else, but she couldn’t miraculously bring her husband back to life. As much as she wished she could. If only she could rewrite the script, maybe her darling Jeremy would have made it home safely from the office. They’d had an argument that morning, and she had continued it when he called from the car on his drive home. If she hadn’t distracted him, he might still be alive. Sure a drunk driver had weaved into his lane, but if he hadn’t been arguing with her on the hands-free device, he might have seen the other car and diverted in time.
    It was their final conversation and the burden of that was something she’d carry in her heart forever. To make it up to Josh, she cherished and pampered him, and tried to be both mom and dad. Just short of spoiled, Josh was a good kid, even though he could be difficult at times.
    She knocked on his bedroom door, then opened it. “I’m sorry about today, Sweetpea. We always have so much fun on our Sundays together, and going to the emergency room with a sprained arm was certainly not in our plans.” She ruffled his hair. “Won’t you keep me company? Come out and watch some TV until dinner time.”
    “Okay. But can I skip my bath tonight?”
    “Yes, I suppose so.” She put an arm around his tiny shoulders as they walked to the living room. She handed him the remote. “Here you go, hon. You can watch Mickey while I start dinner.”
    “I don’t want Mickey. I want SpongeBob instead.”
    “Your choice. Just use the remote to go up or down; you know how.” She had the parental controls on the cable, so she felt comfortable letting him surf the channels. She went into the kitchen and had just taken the chicken out of the freezer, when Josh called to her.
    “Mom! Mom! Come quick. It’s the guy with the funny hand.”
    She hurried back into the living room to see the handsome young medic’s face on the local news channel. “What the heck? Why are they interviewing him?”
    “I don’t know. But there’s his dog!”
    Lauren sat down to listen to the broadcast. His name was Shane Dawson, and she heard how he and his dog had chased down a skateboarder who’d run off with a lady’s handbag.
    “That must have happened right after we left,” she told Josh, with a surprised look. “I thought our boardwalk was safe.”
    “It is, thanks to Major. Maybe they’ll let him be a hero dog now.”
    The journalist made it out to be more than it was, and Shane looked bored by the interview. His answers were brief, and he denied that he was any sort of hero.
    “Just in the right place at the right time,” he said.
    He smiled, and she smiled at the TV, remembering how he’d tried to distract Josh with humor, using his devilish grin and quick wit. Now that her concern for her son was over and she had time to reflect, she could admit that he’d been attractive and funny, and she hadn’t been very nice to him. There’d been something behind his eyes, some inner pain or a deep secret that he carried inside. She recognized it, as it mirrored her own.

CHAPTER FOUR
    T he following day, the guys at work kidded Shane about the news report, calling him “our local celebrity, the war hero.” He laughed and joked right back, but the fact was, he hated any discussion about his past. He’d lived through it once, and it wasn’t a place he cared to revisit.
    The eager reporter had dug up some background facts on him. Discovered he’d been to Iraq and that he’d been held captive by a guerrilla group for months. She even gave details about the Navy Seals sneaking into the enemy camp and carrying him off and the firefight that ensued. Thankfully, she hadn’t followed up the story about the next year of his life. Doctors, hospitals, rehab, and a piss-poor attitude.
    The only upside to the brief report was the mention of his volunteer work with Wounded