Smart, then, I thought, not surprised. This hadn't come out in dinner conversation. I wondered why. "What is she taking?"

My mom's lips pressed together in thought. "Criminology."

Really smart. Too smart?

"She has one year left," my mom said as she arranged a set of spoons on the napkins. "It was nice watching them together. She balances Robbie out. He's so pie in the sky, and she's so down to earth. She has a quiet beauty. Their children will be precious beyond belief."

Her smile had gone soft, and I smiled, realizing that by settling down, Robbie was setting himself up for an entirely new set of mom-wants. She might have given up on me, but now Robbie was going to take the full brunt. Oh so sad…

"Tell me," she said in a deceptively mild tone, "how are you and Marshal getting along?"

My smile faded. Okay, maybe she hadn't given up on me completely. "Fine. We're doing great," I said with a new nervousness. She'd been the one to tell me that we weren't suited for more than a rebound relationship, but after hearing at dinner how Marshal had pulled Tom out from under my kitchen, she might have readjusted her thinking.

"Robbie really likes him," she continued. "It's nice for me to know that you have someone looking after you. Able to go under your house and kill snakes for you, so to speak."

"Mom…" I felt trapped all of a sudden. "I can kill my own snakes. Marshal and I are friends, and that's enough. Why can't I just have a guy friend? Huh? Every time I push it, I mess it up. Besides, you told me he wasn't a long-term solution but a short-term diversion."

I was whining, and she set the sugar bowl down and turned to face me. "Sweetheart," she said, touching my jaw. "I'm not telling you to marry the man. I'm telling you to keep the lines of communication open. Make sure he knows what's going on."

My stomach, full of gravy and beef, started to churn. "Good," I said, surprised. "Because I'm not dating him, and nothing is going on. Everyone I date ends up dead or going off a bridge."

Her lips twisted into a wry expression as she took the carafe and poured the coffee into the best silver pitcher. "They do not," she chided. "I really like Marshal, and he's been good for you, but he's too…safe, maybe, to keep your interest, and I want to make sure he's not thinking there's more to this than there is. He's too good a person to lead on like that, and if you've given him any indication—"

"He knows we're just friends," I interrupted. God! What was it with her?

"Friends is fine," she said firmly. "And it's good to know he can come through in a pinch. This thing with the Bansen character, for example. I'll sleep better knowing you have someone to go to if I'm not around. I worry about you, sweetheart."

My jaw clenched, and I could feel my blood pressure start to rise. This was not what I wanted to talk about. "If I find any more snakes under my floorboards, I'll know who to call." Then I hesitated. If she isn't around?

"Uh, Mom?" I said as she fussed over the tray. "You're okay, right?"

She laughed, the sound of it pulling my shoulders down. "I'm fine!"

Not quite reassured, I set the good silver coffeepot on the tray, now knowing what it meant. She considered Marshal casual company, not a future son-in-law, and a part of me was disappointed even as I knew it was the best thing. A thump from the attic pulled my attention up. It was followed by another, and I started to fidget. I grabbed the tray as the distinctive bump of the attic door folding up into the ceiling filtered in. He was downstairs.

"I'll take it in," my mother said briskly as she plucked the tray from my hands and gave a nod to the hallway. "Poor Marshal must be bored, sitting there by himself. See if Robbie needs any help with what he pulled out of the attic. Bottle caps! I thought I threw those out!"

"Thanks, Mom." Anxious to get my hands on that book, I followed her, smiling sadly at Marshal's cheerful comment about the beautiful coffeepot as I headed in the other direction, almost running into Robbie. I gasped, and he steadied me with both hands. My eyes narrowed. Both hands? "Where's the book?" I whispered.

Robbie's eyes were pinched in the dim greenness of the hall, cold now from the attic. "It wasn't there."

"What?" I yelped, then lowered my voice and leaned in. "What do you mean, it wasn't there?"

"I mean, it's not where I left it. The box is gone."

Not knowing if I should believe him or not, I angled around him to look for myself. "What does the box look like?" I asked as I reached for the pull cord. Had Mom found it, or was Robbie simply telling me it was gone to keep it out of my reach?

Robbie grabbed my shoulder and turned me back. "Relax. It has to be up there," he said. "I'll check again in the morning after she goes to sleep."

My eyes narrowed, and I hesitated. From the front room came my mom's voice raised in question. "Did you find your rusty caps, Robbie? I want them out of my attic!"

Robbie's grip on my shoulders tightened, then relaxed. "Got 'em, Mom," he said. "I'll be right there. I've got something for you and Rachel."

"Presents?" My mother was suddenly in the hall, beaming as she linked her arm in mine. "You know you don't need to bring us presents. Just having you here is present enough."

Robbie grinned back, winking when I gritted my teeth. Now I'd never get up there to make sure he didn't "miss" something. Crap, he'd done this on purpose.

But my mother was happy, and I followed her back to the living room for coffee as Robbie went to rummage in his luggage. Marshal looked suitably relieved by my appearance, and I plunked myself down on the brown tapestry-covered couch, bumping into him and staying where I was, our thighs touching.

"You owe me," he whispered, his lips twisted in both fun and sly annoyance. "You owe me big."

I looked at the thick photo album of Robbie and me as kids. "Two tickets to the next wrestling event at the coliseum," I whispered back. "Front row."

"That might cover it," he said, laughing at me.

Almost humming, my mom sat and bobbed her foot until she saw me notice it and she stilled it. "I wonder what he got us?" she asked, and the last of my bad mood evaporated. I liked seeing her this way. "Oh, here he comes!" she added, eyes lighting up at the sound of Robbie's footsteps.

Robbie sat across from us and put down two envelopes, each having our names on them in a clearly feminine script. His long face was full of excitement, and he slid them to us with two fingers, one for me, one for my mom. "Cindy and I got these for you," he said as we both reached for them. "But you can't use them until June."

"June?" I mused.

"June?" my mom echoed, then let out a joyous yelp that made me jump. "You're getting married!" she shrieked, and threw herself around the coffee table. "Robbie, oh, Robbie!" she burbled, starting to cry. "Cindy is so sweet. I know you will be so happy together! I'm so excited for you both! Have you found a church yet? What are the invitations going to be like?"

I scooted away from Marshal and stared at the two plane tickets in my envelope. My eyes met Robbie's when I looked up.

"Please say you'll come," he asked me, his arms around our mother as she cried joyful tears. "It would make us both very happy."

"Look at me," my mom warbled, pulling away to wipe her face. "Son of a bitch, I'm crying."

Robbie blinked at her rough words, but I smiled. Same old Mom. "Of course I'll come," I said, standing up and moving around the table. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." Al could just suck my toes and die. So he'd have to pick me up in an unfamiliar ley line. They had ley lines in Portland, same as everywhere else.

The hug turned into a group thing, and it felt good, secure and bittersweet. The lilac and redwood scent from my mom mixed with the aroma of electric amps, but even as my thoughts rejoiced, another worry took me. Maybe I should back off from the magic completely. I mean, I'd never forgive myself if something happened to Robbie or his new bride…or their children.