Dying for a Date Read Online Free PDF Page B

and Batman. He was already in bed, his blue and gray light saber resting on top of his Spiderman bedspread.
    "Honey, you know you're not supposed to sleep with your toys.” I held out my hand for the plastic sword.
    "No. Mom. I need it.” He grabbed the saber and hid it under his Batman sheets.
    "Now, Ben..."
    He sat upright against crumpled pillows. “I need it...to protect you. What if the murderer comes here?” A tear rolled down his cheek and he quickly swiped at it. “I'm the man of the house now."
    Tiny droplets welled up in my eyes. What kind of mother was I, subjecting my impressionable young son to murder? When you're raising children, it sometimes feels like you make one bad decision after another. I sure didn't remember Dr. Spock covering a situation like this one.
    I climbed in the twin bed and wrapped my arms around my son. I held him close as I explained it was a coincidence that I had gone on a date with Garrett and he died the same evening. The murder had nothing to do with me. And absolutely nothing to do with the kids. The detectives were merely hoping I would have some information to share.
    Ben seemed satisfied with my explanation. We nestled together, his shaggy brown mane that was so overdue for a haircut, tickling my chin. I made sure Ben was sound asleep before I slipped out from under the covers. He could sleep with his sword tonight. Not a battle worth fighting right now.
    As I closed his bedroom door I once again pondered my decision to start dating. Maybe my daughter was right and I should hold off until both kids were out of the house. Of course that meant by the time I started the search for eligible men I would also be eligible for early bird dinners.
    Considering what happened the previous night that would be just fine with me.
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    SIX
    The next day was Monday, the start of a fresh new week. Unfortunately it looked like everyone had woken up on the wrong side of their respective beds.
    "Mom, there's no bread for my sandwich,” Ben whined. He waved the empty plastic bag in front of my face. My son is not a morning person, another gene we shared.
    Drat. “You can have cheese and crackers. Won't that be a treat?"
    He crossed his arms and frowned. “Jimmy's mother would never run out of bread."
    Okay, so I'm not the West Coast's answer to Martha Stewart. “I'll bet Jimmy's mom would never let him have four cookies for lunch.” The bribe produced a beaming smile. Sometimes working moms have to compromise to save their sanity.
    Jenna had misplaced her homework, which she finally located under the kitchen phone, so we left five minutes late. The kids jumped into the car and I zoomed down our street. I turned right on Wagon Wheel Lane and glimpsed the canary yellow bus pulling away.
    That bus driver and I have a love-hate relationship. I'm positive she waits at the bus stop until she sees my car fly around the corner. Then she shifts gears and hauls you-know-what, forcing me to follow her to the next stop.
    I stomped on the gas pedal with a vengeance, and all four cylinders responded with a resounding “ping” as we caught up to my nemesis. Ben's pals waved at us from the back window of the bus. At the next stop Ben flew out of the car and jumped on board. One kid down. One to go.
    My daughter refused to ride in a school bus filled with freshmen and sophomores so our next stop was the high school.
    "I'm probably the only kid in the junior class who doesn't have her own car,” Jenna complained as I pulled up to the loading and unloading area in front of the high school.
    "Great. That means there are three hundred sixty one kids who can give you a ride.” I chuckled, silently patting myself on the back.
    "Very funny.” She grabbed her forest green backpack and slogged up the sidewalk towards the Ponderosa pined campus. I watched as two of her friends joined her. Within seconds they were giggling, heads close together.
    I would have loved to provide my daughter