Just Like Em. Marion Ekholm

pole, and pushed Em into the group. Most of their children would be attending the same school as Sammy, so Em asked questions about what she could expect.

      After some pleasant conversation, Em began to relax with the help of a cool glass of lemonade. She hugged one corner of the tent’s shade and watched Sammy frolicking in the pool with several children his age. She had slathered him with sunscreen before coming. Too much sun with his light skin...

      She was about to venture over to the pool to check on him, when she saw Roger. He circled the pool, shouting warnings and avoiding the splashes aimed at him.

      No man had a right to look that good. He hadn’t changed much in the past fifteen years at all. His hair was shorter but still fell over his forehead in that delightful wave that made her fingers itch. How many times had she dreamed of pushing it aside and raining kisses...?

      Stop it, Em. You’ve grown up. Get a life!

      She returned her attention to Sammy. She had a life. She had her son, her mother, a job and divorce papers that said she’d never have to pay another dime of her ex-husband’s bills. Life was pretty darn close to perfect.

      Sammy disappeared under the water, and for a moment she couldn’t see him. One hand gripping her large bag, the other clutching her throat, Em started for the pool. A second later he came up—choking.

      Instantly her heart started to race. Not another asthma attack. Before she could reach his side, Roger pulled him out of the water and began pounding his back.

      “Stop that!” Em shouted. Her boy needed assistance in breathing, not bruises. She kneeled by Sammy’s side and handed him his inhaler. But instead of taking it the way he usually did, the boy pushed her hand away.

      “I’m okay,” he said in a hoarse whisper. He looked up at her with pleading eyes that tore at her heart. He wanted so much to be like all the other kids, with no weaknesses that might make him different. But she’d seen minor incidents like these escalate without proper care. She wasn’t about to risk another trip to the hospital.

      She pushed the inhaler toward him again. He turned away. Frustrated by Sammy’s reluctance, Em sat back on her heels, her full skirt billowing around her ankles.

      “I think he just swallowed a little water,” Roger said, in a low voice.

      His calmness helped quiet her nerves. Maybe she had overreacted. Her son’s coughing had stopped, and his new friends waited for him in the water. She dropped the inhaler back in her bag and sprang to her feet.

      “Be careful. I’ll be near the tent if you need me.” Without another look in Roger’s direction, she headed for the cool shade.

      “You okay?” Jodie asked when she reached the group of adults. “You look all flushed.”

      “It’s this Arizona sun. I haven’t adjusted yet.”

      “I’ll get the kids out of the water. It’s time they downed some hot dogs and hamburgers.”

      Once Sammy was on dry ground, Em felt she could find a restroom and compose herself. But on her way to the house, one of the single parents, a divorced man she had recently met, intercepted her.

      “You embarrassed the boy,” the man said.

      Momentarily stunned, Em stuttered a reply. “He...he has asthma.”

      “Come on. I saw what happened. He swallows a little water, and you come on like the Red Cross in an earthquake emergency.” He chuckled. When she still remained silent, the man continued. “Boys don’t like to be babied in front of their friends by their mothers.”

      “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” Em took in a deep, calming breath and forced a smile despite the pain it caused in her cheeks and jaw. “Ben, isn’t it?”

      “Right. There’s my son Carlie.” He grinned, pointing to one of the boys in the pool. Em could pick him out by the fiery red hair and zinc ointment on his nose that duplicated his father’s. “Jodie thought maybe we could, you know, have dinner or something.”

      “I’ll have to get back to you on that.” Holding herself erect, she pushed past him and went into the house.

      Roger watched her walk away after overhearing the conversation. Ben didn’t have a clue. The look she’d given him was enough to turn this heat into a frost, but Ben followed her movement, entranced, as though he still had a chance.

      She certainly wasn’t the Em Roger remembered. If he’d roused her ire fifteen years ago she’d have thrown him in the pool. Ben went unscathed, although his callous remark about her son deserved a good punch.

      Roger watched the swish of her skirt, an intriguing bounce of colorful flowers over legs that went on forever. She had changed and all for the better. Who would have guessed it? Maybe there was hope for Samantha, after all.

      * * *

      “OH, I SURE could use a cigarette.” Em pushed back a few strands of hair that had pulled loose from her ponytail and glared at herself in the bathroom mirror. That darn strap was down again. She shoved it into place.

      “Men! What makes that jerk think I’d ever go out with him?” She planned to grab Jodie first chance she got and tell her not to provide any dates. She wasn’t looking, and she certainly could do better than Ben!

      “What does he know about my son and his problems? Nothing! Has he seen him in a seizure so bad he can’t breathe? Has he had to rush him to a hospital?”

      Em emptied her purse onto the sink vanity. She’d given cigarettes up years ago because they created problems for Sammy, but she carried gum or mints for the occasion when the craving became all consuming. This was definitely one of those occasions. No luck. She tossed the contents back into her purse and went outside.

      The pool was empty. Everyone had assembled under the tent and strains of “Happy Birthday” floated toward her. The tent looked crowded, with Ben motioning her to join them. The glaring sun made the rest of the yard totally uninviting.

      She wanted more time to herself to regain her composure. If not, she might say something she’d later regret. Sammy sat with his friends at the picnic table, so she could afford to take a few more moments for herself.

      The whiff of smoke had her spinning in several directions before she honed in on its source. A path led around the house. Em followed her nose to a small patio surrounded by walls of white stucco. Arms of leafy bougainvillea with magenta blossoms clung to the wall.

      A young woman Em’s height with a bob of brown curls smoked a cigarette. She wore a baggy man’s white dress shirt that practically hid her shorts. These were former jeans, ragged out to create a fringe. It barely covered a rose tattoo on her thigh.

      “Ahem,” Em said, hoping not to startle her. The woman turned around and immediately stubbed out the cigarette against the wall. “Oh, I wish you hadn’t done that. I came here specifically to enjoy the smoke.”

      “It’s not good for you, you know.”

      Em had to chuckle. She was aware of all the dangers, but she never expected a lecture from another smoker. Especially not one sporting a tattoo.

      “I know, and I’ve quit. It’s just every now and then I get this agonizing urge.”

      “It’s the nicotine.” The woman flipped the pack and a cigarette came halfway out. “Want one?”

      “Thanks.” Em took it and bent over to accept a light. After a swift inhale she straightened, released the smoke and sighed. Magic. Already she could feel the tension drain away. But it wasn’t worth the guilt she’d feel if Sammy found out. He had a sense of smell like a bloodhound and would surely notice the scent of smoke on her clothes and hair. One more puff and then she’d put the cigarette out.

      About to toss it, Em paused when a door opened behind them. As Roger stepped onto the brick patio the woman next to her casually dropped the pack of cigarettes to the ground. The moment she saw