Ian felt uncertain as he went through his strengthening exercises on Saturday morning. He had enjoyed his dinner the night before. She wasn't looking for a serious relationship, but he didn't know if she had just said all the right things. He wasn't a cynic, but women knew how to say what others wanted to hear. Olivia was the queen and had lured him into doing things he didn't want to do more than once. She reminded him of a spider patiently waiting in the intricate web she had spun.

It was uncertainty for her true motives that kept him from tasting her lips although they were very tempting. His celibate status hadn't been a bother until he started thinking about her. Not all guys would be interested in a short, curvy woman, but Ian knew tall ones weren't looking at guys who were only five-ten.

After his grocery order arrived, Ian showered for brunch. He looked forward to their tradition. It had started years before when Ian was too busy as a co-ed for dinner with his father. Andrew insisted his son carve out two hours on Saturday morning. Going out for brunch started so it would force Ian to sit and talk with his dad. More than once he sat at the table hungover hoping he wouldn't throw up. By his amused smile, his father always knew. It had become a time Ian looked forward to each week.

He frowned when he walked into the restaurant to find Andrew and Margot seated already. Never had brunch included anyone but father and son. In fact, when David and Rose went away to a convention, Andrew made pancakes at home for Brooke and Ian. She was a child, but a sticking point for his previous relationship was he left her on Saturday mornings. It was the unwritten rule. A rule his father had broken.

"Hey dad." Failing to force a smile with his greeting. "Margot."

"Ian." Andrew stood and offered his hand. As Ian shook it, his father gasped Ian's arm with his left hand. "I'm pleased you and Margot can get to know one another."

Ian had spent his evening getting to know a different woman, not the one his father was sleeping with. At Ian's age, the knowledge of his father having sex shouldn't make him feel like a teenager.

As he sat down, he nodded to Margot. "This is a surprise. How was the Vineyard?"

Margot laughed. "It was Nantucket, and a lovely weekend."

"Right. Good and you two?"

Andrew cleared his throat and smiled at Margot. "We're great."

"Great. Uh? Good." He poured himself coffee from the carafe on the table.

"What's new?"

Andrew looked at him the way he always did, but with his arm casually across the back of Margot's chair and his hand caressing her shoulder. It was something he had seen Kurt do to his mother, but his dad was different. His plan had been to share the help desk debacle.

"Mom's coming next weekend. I'll need to make an appearance."

If he couldn't get a ride, he would have to take the green line and an Uber to the Steele's house.

"Is your sister coming too?"

He shrugged. "She didn't say."

The server took their orders. Ian hadn't bothered to look at the menu.

Margot said, "Your mother is a book agent?"

His chin dropped as he nodded, furrowing his brow. "You talked about my mother."

"Yes, she asked, and I answered."

"But you hardly know her."

"That's not true. We raised you together which required lots of phone calls."

"When was the last time you spoke to her?"

"The day of your surgery."

"You called her?" Another surprise.

"Of course, just like she called me when you woke after your tubes."

"I was a baby."

"Son, we spoke regularly during your childhood. We're friends."

Margot said, "We should invite her to the performance next Saturday night."

Ian put his hands up. "Whoa! Since when have you sent her invitations?"

"She's your mother."

Years ago he had a romantic notion for his parents to get together, but then Kurt showed up. The status quo of two parents in different cities had been fine ever since.

"It's just." He shook his head. "You're acting strange."

Andrew looked poised to respond, but Margot spoke first, for him, like a couple. "I want to meet your mother."

Ian looked at her. She was pretty with perfectly painted lips and professionally painted nails. Who knew his father went for those things? Ainsley's lips shone, but she hadn't had a lot of makeup on.

"My mother is married. She's not a threat. She's just a woman he had sex with once. There have been others."

His father coughed, and Margot laughed. "Poor Andrew. No secrets."

"He's an adult. I feel too young and he should be a teenager."

"I was one for a lot of years."

Margot said, "I want to meet her because she's an agent."

He shook his head. "She doesn't accept many new client. You would do better to solicit her nephew or his wife. They're in the office here in Boston. I suppose you could use my name."

Margot smiled as did his dad. Ian wouldn't think the worst. She liked his dad and the publishing connection had to be a coincidence.

Their food arrived, and as they ate, the conversation flowed lighter. He considered mentioning his dinner, but he didn't know what to say. He only knew he looked forward to bumping into Ainsley again.

After the meal, Andrew asked if he was coming home. He shook his head. "I'll give you space." He loved to play, but he didn't want to be part of his dad playing house. Curious, he asked Margot where she lived.

"In Brookline. Your dad's place is more convenient for us."

Andrew chuckled. "A little bigger too."

"True. I'm renting."

Ian resisted the urge to ask about her book, even as he wondered about the genre.

Returning home, he felt restless. Typically, he spent his Saturdays with his dad or at the gym. He was annoyed with himself because the voice in his head sounded like a whine. Blame it on the time he spent with Brooke. He sat down and wrote a list of things he wished he could do. Walk The Fens, take a bike ride, explore a harbor island, walk around Quincy Market like a tourist. Early September was beautiful, and he cursed his bum knee.

He turned the paper over and wrote. Watch a movie, cook a meal, sit on a bench in the Public Gardens and watch the famous swan boats. None were things he wanted to do on his own. Before he changed his mind he picked up his paper and knocked on her door. It opened just as he was about to turn around. She smiled, and he felt warm inside.

He shoved the paper forward. "I made a list of the things I wish I could do and on the back what I can do. If you aren't busy, will you pick one?"

She smiled and looked down at herself. She was wearing an old stained tee and leggings. "I was cleaning my bathroom. So you could talk me into doing anything. I have to finish up and shower. How about I knock on your door in thirty minutes?"

He nodded. She smiled before closing the door on him. Upstairs he paced and tried to rationalize what he was doing. What need was he trying to fill? Loneliness could be filled as friends. From the time he labeled her sexy blonde his fantasies went in a direction which didn't require friendship. Knowing she lived in his building and worked with him, he couldn't let his dick decide.

When he opened the door to her smiling face, he wanted to let his dick win. "I considered renting a wheelchair to push you around, but it was too short notice."

He laughed. "I'm not an invalid. I can walk just not far."

"Let's go count the kids crying by the Swan Boats."

"Seriously?" He smirked.

She nodded. "You know parents plan a special outing. They drive in from the suburbs and pay for parking, and then their kids have a meltdown."

"Wow! You really don't like kids then."

"No. I like them, at least other people's. I don't have a longing to have one."

They walked across the street to the Gardens. "You are an unusual woman."

"Did your ex want to have a baby?"

He nodded. "I think her crystal ball had a house in the suburbs."

Ainsley laughed. "Complete with SUV and dog and..."

"She would have to be in the driver's seat. I don't drive."

"Seriously?" Ainsley laughed so hard she held her stomach.

"It's not that funny. I've always lived in the city."

"Sorry, I don't care, but I was thinking of my dad."

"What does your father have to do with my driving status?"

"He owns car dealerships. His first question is alway what car you drive."

"What car do you drive?"

"A Lexus. It was a gift from my father, but it's garaged at my parent's house."

Ian didn't need to ask if she grew up wealthy. He was raised very comfortable both his mother and her first husband came from old Wall Street families.

They passed families enjoying the pleasant afternoon. It was the perfect temperature, not too hot. When a crying child passed, Ainsley held up one finger. She made him laugh.

Ainsley ran ahead of him and sat on an empty bench. When he reached her, she smiled. "You walked so slow I was afraid someone would nab our seats."

"Our seats?"

She smirked. "I saw 'em."

He laughed. "Would you have cried?"

"What?" She glared until a smile emerged. "Maybe twenty-five years ago."

"Did my joke miss the mark?"

She snickered. "I'm slow, but you're dirty."

He waved a finger. "Don't start or else."

"Truce. For now." She winked.

Was she flirting?

"See them?" She looked towards an elderly couple. He nodded. The two looked sweet holding hands. "They were high school sweethearts. They drifted apart. Maybe the army took him away. They ran into each other at..."

"The symphony. During intermission."

She smiled. "Right."

"He was with his brother." Ian thought of his uncle.

"And she was with her daughter. They've been inseparable since. The lonely widow and lifelong bachelor."

Ian laughed. "You should be an author."

She shook her head. "My roommate wrote and posted online. I just like making up little stories."

"Did you have one for me? Wait. Sorry." His phone had vibrated. "Hi Dad."

"Did you enjoy brunch?"

"It was a surprise. I thought we had an unspoken rule."

"You have always been welcome to invite a nice girl."

"Well, I never did." Maybe he would one day.

"I felt bad you took off. This is still your home. Come play anytime."

"Just call first." He sounded like Brooke.

Andrew laughed. "Maybe. I have to get over to Symphony Hall."

"Okay. Good luck."

Ian turned to Ainsley, but before he could speak a child screamed 'no" and fell to the ground crying. She held up two fingers.

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