of the mess they created, from the surprised boy’s grasp. He wondered if, at forty-one, he was too old for this sort of thing.
And then Beth Herman tapped him on the arm. He shot her a quick sideways glance and did a double take. Normally, he didn’t pay a great deal of attention to women’s clothes—a shortcoming of which Amelia had frequently complained—but Beth’s blouse was really quite extraordinary, patterned with brilliant butterflies that danced over her entire upper body. Another surreptitious glance revealed small black script identifying the various species. By then, mercifully, the music had stopped and he turned to take an even closer look, realizing as he did so that he was ogling her left breast.
“Sorry,” he said, although Beth did not seem at all offended. “Very nice blouse.” The students were now ambling off to their classrooms and Beth was smiling and it seemed necessary somehow to say something else. Would you like to be a mother to my children? seemed a bit peremptory. “Very nice cupcakes, too,” he said instead.
“Cupcakes?”
“The cakes you brought in this morning with the little silver balls. Quite delicious.”
“Oh,” she said. “They weren’t mine. One of my aides brought them in. I’ll thank her on your behalf,” she said. “Actually though, I do love to cook.”
“And I’m sure you do it very well,” he said, trying to imagine Amelia’s response if he were to suggest she bake cakes. Probably about the same as if he were to suggest they marry and raise a dozen children together. Edie would react similarly, he suspected. But he must stop thinking about unsuitable women. Which reminded him of Edie again—or, rather, her mother. “I have a proposal,” he said.
“A proposal?” Beth’s face reddened and the pile of papers she’d been carrying like a baby slipped from her arms and fell to the ground. “Sorry.”
Peter joined Beth on the grass to help retrieve some papers that had been scattered by a sudden breeze. For a moment or so they were both on their hands and knees, and he glanced up to find Beth’s nose inches from his own.
“A proposal?” she said again.
“A proposal.” Peter held out his hand to help her up. “You seem a little…flustered.”
“Flustered?” She raked her brown curls. “Oh no, no. I’m fine. I mean, this is the way I always am. Sorry. Um, what can I do for you?” She laughed. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right—”
“Beth, you’ve just apologized for the third time in as many minutes,” Peter said. “Stop it. You’re making me feel like an ogre.”
“An ogre? Oh no, I’m sorry I…”
Peter shook his head. She’d caught her lapse and was looking at him with such dismay that he couldn’t help laughing. “I’m sorry…” He grinned. “God, you’ve got me doing it. Look, all I wanted to suggest—”
“Would you like some tea? I could make some if you’d like to walk back to the center. Peppermint? Apple? Chamomile?”
“Oh no, thank you.” He loathed tea, particularly the herbal variety, but people were always offering him cups of it. “About my proposal, though. You do know Edie Robinson? I met her mother today and I rather had the sense that time hangs heavy on occasion and she becomes depressed. I know you’re always short of volunteers and—”
“Perfect.” Beth beamed. “The girls would love having a surrogate grandmother to help with the babies, and if Mrs. Robinson is anything like my mother, there’s nothing she’d enjoy more than being surrounded by babies and young people.”
“Good. I’ll ring Edie today,” he said, quick to grasp at any excuse. Perhaps he could determine whether there really was a safari-suited boyfriend, or if that was just a polite excuse, in which case… He realized that Beth was watching him as though she had something more to say. He smiled and she glanced down at her feet, then up at him.
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