Sam wasn’t sure why candles needed bowls, which Libby seemed to anticipate.
“You know, you float candles in the bowls. Floating candles. But they have to be wide and flat glass bowls,” she said, sketching them out with her hands. “Crystal is better.”
“Okay,” he said uncertainly.
“I went to Walmart, but they didn’t have what I wanted, so I went into Pine River because I thought Tag’s Outfitters might have them, although I don’t know why I thought that, and Tag, Jesus, that old coot! He was no help, but then I remembered there was that little gift shop near the cemetery. So I drove over there, and you know you can’t go there without going by the park, and there they were. The kids were on the soccer field practicing, and I saw Max . . .” Her voice trailed off a moment, and she shook her head. “I saw Max,” she said, her voice softer, and shrugged. “So I stopped.”
Sam felt for her. How could he not feel for her? It was one hazard of his job, feeling bad for people who were doing things they ought not to do. “You should have driven on,” he said.
“Well, I know that. But they were playing, and I thought, where’s the harm? It’s not like I ran out on the field to hug Max or called Alice over. It’s not like I went looking for anyone.”
“Gwen said you walked up to the sidelines. And then you wouldn’t leave when she asked you to, and on top of that, you got pretty mouthy about it.”
Libby studied him with those pale blue eyes, as if debating that. “Okay, I’m not going to deny that,” she finally admitted, holding up a finger. “But in my defense, I’m a grown woman. I don’t need someone telling me what I’m supposed to be doing. Especially the woman who was sleeping with my significant other behind my back. The same woman who basically checked out of her kids’ lives and left me to raise them while she went to dental school, and suddenly, I’m the bad guy. She was the one telling me to leave, and I couldn’t help it. I got . . . I got—”
“Mouthy?” he offered helpfully.
“That’s not the word I was going to use, but okay, yeah, I got mouthy. It just made me so mad.” She curled her hands into her fists and tapped against her thighs. “I’ve been with those two kids every day for more than four years. They love me and I love them. And you know what?” she continued, beginning to pace now, “while their father was cheating on me with their mother—which sounds totally bizarre, doesn’t it? But that’s what he was doing, he was cheating on me—and all that time, I was taking them to school,” she said, folding one finger down, “and making their lunches,” she said, folding another finger down, “and picking them up and making sure they got to soccer and dance class and tae-kwon-do on time, and kissing their boo-boos and, yeah, okay, I stopped when I saw them today. So?”
“So, again, you aren’t supposed to be anywhere near Ryan or his family since you took that golf club to his truck.”
Libby groaned to the ceiling. “Geez, you have one confrontation with somebody, and suddenly, you’re a threat to all the little children and senior citizens.”
Sam smiled. “The only person who thinks you’re any sort of threat is Ryan. And Gwen, apparently.”
“Don’t be so sure of that,” Libby said, and walked to the fridge, pulling out a head of lettuce. “Sally Rushton saw me coming the other day and crossed the street so she wouldn’t have to say hi.” She marched back to the kitchen sink, threw the lettuce into it, and turned on the faucet.
Sam watched her wash that head of lettuce like an angry sous chef. He couldn’t really blame her for feeling the way she did. First of all, everyone in town knew she’d been head over heels for Ryan Spangler. Second, everyone in town knew that Ryan Spangler was a player. Poor Libby found that out the hard way.
For reasons that completely eluded Sam, Ryan was one of those guys who could charm the pants off women. Way back when, Ryan had married Gwen, had two cute kids, got a good job at the propane shop, and had a nice little house on the edge of Pine River. Most men would be happy that they’d done something right, that they had a pretty wife and two great kids to come home to every day after work. Sam didn’t know what went wrong between Ryan and Gwen, but something did. Gwen seemed solid; she didn’t strike him as the type to walk out on a marriage. But that she did, walking all the way to Colorado Springs to get her dental hygiene license because there wasn’t much work in Pine River. She had to leave her babies at home with their grandmas and their schools and their dad in order to get that marketable skill. Sam figured that was a tough thing for Gwen to do, no matter what Libby thought of it. The way he saw it, Gwen had done what she had to do to provide for her kids.