When someone knocked sharply on the door, Amber’s eyes lit with excitement. She dropped the suitcase and ran to the foyer, pigtails flying behind her.
Who would be paying us a visit already? Making his way toward the foyer, he figured it had to be Flynn Garvey, the grinning realtor who’d sold him the property.
Before he could find out, Amber yelled, “Dad! There’s an old lady here!”
He shot his daughter a stern look of disapproval and smiled at the elderly woman on the porch, his face no doubt as purple as an eggplant.
“Very old, indeed,” the woman said to Amber, her eyes twinkling. She wore a purple-and-white floral-print housedress and fuzzy house slippers. In her hefty arms, she carried a large fruit basket topped with an immense red bow.
Jason stepped forward, gently nudged Amber out of the way, and held the door. “I’m so sorry about that, Miss-”
“Blanchard. But you can call me Dottie.”
“Come in, please.”
Dottie Blanchard stepped into the foyer and held the fruit basket out to Jason. He took it and with his free hand, shook hers. “Jason Crandall. It’s nice to meet you.”
Dottie clasped his hand. She was pleasingly plump with rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes that seemed much too young and vibrant for her grandmotherly face. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”
Already, Jason was beginning to like it here; he couldn’t remember ever being welcomed to any of his old neighborhoods in LA. He looked down at the fruit basket. “This is very thoughtful of you, Dottie. Thank you.”
Dottie waved his words away.
He moved to set the basket down realizing there was nothing to set it on. Or anywhere to sit. “I’d ask you to come in and sit down, but our furniture hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Don’t trouble yourself, dear.” Dottie bent toward Amber. “And who might you be?”
“I’m Amber Lynn Crandall,” the girl announced matter-of-factly. “We just moved here.”
“I can see that. And who is she?” Dottie stroked the doll’s shiny blond curls.
Amber, clearly pleased that Ruby hadn’t been overlooked, introduced the doll.
“Amber and Ruby,” said Dottie. “Isn’t that precious.”
“And I have a brother too, his name’s Brent and he’s upstairs. I think he’s mad because he didn’t want to move here, but I wanted to move here, I think this place is just great, but Brent is kind of grumpy. He’s-”
Jason cleared his throat. Amber had a tendency to ramble.
Dottie’s laughter tinkled. “I’m sure he’ll like it just fine once he gets used to it.” She dimpled up at Jason. “And is there a Mrs. Crandall?”
Jason hadn’t been prepared for the question. Feeling as if a storm cloud had just scudded in front of the sun, he put an instinctive hand on Amber’s shoulder and pulled her a little closer. “No. It’s just the kids and me. My wife, Julia … she’s …” He couldn’t bring himself to elaborate.
Dottie Blanchard gave him a nod of understanding and quickly moved on. “Maybe you’d like to come and see my cats sometime, Amber.”
Amber’s eyes widened. “You have cats?” She tugged excitedly at Jason’s pant leg. “She has cats, Daddy.”
“I heard,” he said. Amber had always wanted a cat.
“How many?” Amber asked Dottie.
Dottie chuckled. “I have twelve of them, but don’t repeat that.” She looked at Jason. “I believe the legal limit is about half that.”
Jason smiled. “My lips are sealed.”
Amber’s jaw dropped. “Twelve?”
“Twelve,” said Dottie. “And they’re all named after signs of the zodiac.”
“The huh?”
“Birth signs,” said Jason. “Remember how you’re a Pisces and I’m a Taurus and Brent’s a Sagittarius?” Amber had come home from school one day asking about the zodiac. Trying to explain had been no easy feat; Julia had taken Amber outside that night and showed her the stars. She’d been far better at things like that.
Amber eyed Dottie. “You have a cat named Pisces? And Cancer?”
Dottie nodded. “I sure do, and you’re welcome to come and see them any time you’d like.” She looked at Jason. “As long as your dad says it’s okay, of course.”
“Can I, Daddy? Please.” Amber’s eyes were wide with excitement.
Jason gave her a soft smile. “Okay, sweetie. But not until we’ve gotten settled in, okay?”
“Okay!” Amber ran off, probably to finish changing Ruby’s dress.
When they were alone, Dottie spoke quietly, her cheeks going pink. “I didn’t mean to pry … about your wife.”
Jason nodded. “No harm done. We’re all just kind of adjusting to the ... new situation and it’s still a little hard to talk about.”
“I understand completely. I lost my husband, Howard, more than a decade ago. You never really get over it, but it does get easier.” Her eyes were pools of warmth.
Emotion thickened Jason’s throat and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. “Thank you.” Desperate for a change of subject, he said, “So, how long have you lived in Shadow Springs?” He finally set the fruit basket on the floor.
“Oh, all my life.” She laughed. “And as young Amber pointed out, that’s a very long time.”
Jason’s cheeks warmed. “I’m sorry about that. She’s-”
“Honest. Bold. It’s a good thing. No need to apologize.” Dottie was clearly the kind of woman who wasn’t easily offended.
“Thank you for understanding.”
“Daddy!” Amber came running back. “I found that thing you were looking for! It was in my suitcase!” She proudly brandished the missing Thai massage roller and handed it to him.
“Thank you, sweetie.”
“Welcome!” Amber ran off.
Dottie stared at the roller with an expression of shock.
With its phallic handle and jumbo set of twin roller balls, Jason realized the shiny wooden device looked like a state-of-the-art sex toy. “Oh, it’s … uh … I’m a licensed massage therapist.” He tried to make it sound very official. “I’m opening my own massage business.” He grinned awkwardly and glanced down at the handheld roller. “I was just, uh, looking for this.” His cheeks went from warm to hot.
Dottie looked as though she was about to burst out laughing, but she contained herself. “Of course.” She cleared her throat. “I think a massage business is just what this town needs. I’m sure it will be a great success.”
“Thank you. I hope so.” God, this is embarrassing. He wanted to shove the vulgar-looking roller somewhere out of sight, but alas, there was nowhere to put it, so he continued holding it, feeling - and no doubt looking - like a pervert.
Dottie smiled. “Now then. I expect to hear all about your move and where you come from, but for now, I’ll let you get back to moving in. You have enough to do without a busybody neighbor holding you up.”
Jason chuckled. “It’s no problem, really.”
“Bless your heart for saying so, but I know how these things are.” She put a hand on the door. “I’ll get out of your hair, but promise to let me know if you need anything at all. I’m right next door. To your east. On the other side, in the white house, is old Tabitha Cooper and you don’t want to bother her.” She shook her head. “A rather strange old woman if you ask me.” She leaned in and spoke under her breath. “The children in town call her a witch, and I don’t blame them one bit.”
Jason laughed. “I’ll be sure and steer clear.”
“Oh, you won’t be seeing much of her. She’s blind. She just sits in that chair in front of her window all day and scares the children. I can’t imagine why she isn’t in a retirement home. She’s ninety-six years old!” She clucked her tongue. “Anyway, you let me know if you need anything.”
“The same goes for you.” Jason considered a parting handshake, but didn’t want to draw any more attention to the genital-shaped massage roller.
Dottie paused. “And if you need someone to watch
the little one, look no further. There are plenty of babysitters around town, but between you and me, I think they’re terribly overpriced. It’s my opinion that one shouldn’t need to be paid for the joy of a child’s company. Children keep you young, that’s my philosophy.”
Jason smiled. “Then I’ll certainly keep you in mind, Dottie.”
She beamed, turned, and made her way down the steps and back toward her house.
Jason closed the door and looked down at the handheld roller, hoping he hadn’t embarrassed her.
“There. How’s that?”
Amber smiled. “It’s perfect, Daddy.”
Jason switched off the pump and gave his daughter a long look. “What’s wrong, honey?” As the evening wore on, Amber had become sullen and distracted. Jason recognized the signs: She was battling with herself. After Julia’s death, Amber had begun wanting to sleep in Jason’s bed with him. Though he didn’t mind it at all - it was comfort to him, as well - he could tell that she was fighting against the urge to ask.
“Nothing, Daddy.” Amber flopped onto the mattress.
“Are you sure?” Jason pulled a blanket up to her chin.
She nodded.
“You know where my room is if you need anything.”
“Uh-huh.”
Jason kissed her cheek and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He closed his eyes, squeezing her tight. “We’re going to be very happy here, sweetie.”
“I know, Daddy.”
“If you decide you want to sleep in-”
“I know where your room is.” Amber flopped back and rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I’m not a scaredy-cat, Daddy.”
Laughing, Jason brushed honey-colored hair out of her face. “You’re one tough kid, you know that?”
She nodded. “I know. Don’t forget to kiss Ruby goodnight, Daddy.”
Jason pecked the doll’s cheek and stood. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Goodnight.” She watched him a moment, her brows furrowed. “Daddy?”
“What?”
“Who’s Aunt Flo?”
Jason’s eyes widened. “What?”
“At school last week, I caught Jimmy Dexter trying to cheat off my spelling test, and I got really, really mad, and he said Aunt Flo must be coming.”
Jason’s mind raced. She’s seven years old. Isn’t it too soon for this talk? Or should she already know these things? He wasn’t sure. “Well, it’s … when girls get older … their bodies change … and when that happens … well ...”
Amber looked at him expectantly.
“When that happens, their hormones change and that can create, uh, well, they can get kind of moody, and-”
“Their hormones?”
“Yes, well … hormones are like chemicals that affect your body when you get older. It makes it so that you can … uh …”
“Grow boobs?”
It was apparent to Jason that yes, it was too soon for this talk. “Exactly. Your body changes and it’s a difficult time.”
“But who’s Aunt Flo?”
Jason hesitated. “I don’t have a clue, honey. I think Jimmy Dexter was just teasing you.”
She frowned. “He’s not very nice.”
“Well, you don’t have to see him ever again. We’re a long way from Los Angeles.”
She smiled. “Good.”
“Sleep tight.”
“Don’t let the bedbugs bite, Daddy.”
Jason smiled, then turned and hurried from the room, pretty sure he’d totally botched his first serious father-daughter talk. How was he going to handle it when she started asking the really hard questions? He felt a sharp stab of resentment toward Julia for leaving him alone to raise their daughter - and immediately felt guilty for it. It wasn’t as if Julia had wanted to leave them.
Making his way down the hall, he paused at Brent’s door, almost opened it, then knocked softly instead.
“What?” came Brent’s irritated voice.
“Can I come in?”
After a beat, Brent said, “Sure,” and Jason entered.
Brent lay on his air mattress, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Despite a spattering of acne and an unwashed and unshaven face, he was handsome - though perhaps too thin - with a sandy-brown mop of hair and features that resembled Jason’s own.
Jason couldn’t help feeling a little sad - it was easy to see the man his son would soon become. Or rather, was already becoming. “How are you doing?”
Brent turned his head and stared at Jason. “How do you think I’m doing?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”
Brent returned his attention to the ceiling. “What do you want?”
“There’s Chinese food in the fridge if you’re hungry.” Jason and Amber had eaten from a local delivery place. Brent had refused to join them.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You need to eat something, Brent.”
Brent sighed. “I think I know when I need to eat. When are you going to stop treating me like a baby?”
“I just want to make sure you-”
“I’ll eat when I’m hungry, Dad, just like anyone else.” He glared at Jason. “I’m going to be eighteen in a few months, you know. Then what’re you going to do?”
Jason’s jaw tightened, but he pushed aside his irritation. “Well, if you’re still living here, I’ll still expect you to eat with us as a family.”
Brent’s eyes narrowed. “A family? I guess I’ll just try not to burden you with my presence any longer than I absolutely have to.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Sure thing, Dad.”
“Look.” Jason stepped closer. “It doesn’t have to be like this. There’s no reason you can’t enjoy these changes. Where’s your sense of adventure, Brent?” He smiled and tried to inject humor into his tone.
“I guess you failed to pass that one on to me, Dad.”
After weeks of hearing his son complain about the move - and hours of hearing it non-stop in the car - Jason’s temper was barely hanging on. “Don’t put this on me. You didn’t like Los Angeles, either, remember? The only thing making you miserable is you.”
Brent faced his father. “No, you are.”
“You know better than that, son. You’re responsible for your own feelings.”
“Whatever. You do everything you can to make me miserable, and you’ll never stop. Not until I can get out from under your thumb.”
Jason’s jaw hardened. “Well, when you get a place of your own, you can do whatever you like. But until then, you’re-”
“Under my roof and you’ll do as you’re told. I know.”
“Watch yourself, Brent.” Jason’s tone left no room for any more backtalk.
But that didn’t stop Brent. “I don’t need to watch myself. You watch me close enough for the both of us, don’t you think? After all, I might starve to death if you weren’t here to remind me to eat.”
Jason stepped closer, hands tense, his voice low and firm. “This isn’t the way I thought things were going to go, either, but that’s life, isn’t it? It isn’t fun and it isn’t easy, and if you think things are always going to go your way just because you want them to, you’ve got another think coming. It is what it is, Brent, and I, for one, intend to make the best of it. You can either sit here in your room and sulk for the rest of your life, or you can suck it up and face the music like the rest of us. It’s entirely up to you, but don’t you dare try and hold me or anyone else responsible for your feelings. You’re in charge of those, no one else.”
Brent sat up, eyes blazing. “You’re the one not taking any responsibility! You act like I’m a kid! You boss me around and make feel like crap, then tell me I’m not allowed to feel that way. Well, I do feel that way and why shouldn’t I? You didn’t even ask me if I wanted to move here. You told me we were moving and when I said I didn’t want to, you made it into this huge deal and acted like I was some sort of traitor!”
“I
did talk to you about it, Brent.”
“Yeah, you talked to me about it but I never had any say in it.”
“You know we needed to get out of that house. I couldn’t-”
“Why? Why did we have to get out of that house so bad? Because Mom died? It’s like you just couldn’t get away from her fast enough!”
At the mention of Julia, Jason’s temper flared. “Not one more word, Brent! Not. One. More. Word. I did what I thought was best for all of us and you know what? I don’t have to consult you. As you’re so fond of reminding me, you’re almost eighteen, so if you don’t like the way things are, you know where the door is.”
His words and his tone seemed to have stunned Brent and Jason wished he could retract them. It was easy to forget how sensitive his son was beneath the stony façade.
Brent stared down at his hands as the sting of guilt needled into Jason’s heart.
“I’m sorry,” Jason said. “You know I don’t want you to leave.”
“Okay.” Still no eye contact.
“I want you to be happy, Brent, and it hurts me to see you unhappy. Do you understand that? I want you to try. You have to try.”
“Sure.”
It was clear the discussion was over - not that any actual discussion had taken place. Jason crouched to level himself with Brent. “I love you, son.”
“Okay.”
Jason waited.
Brent continued staring at his hands, but in those seawater eyes, Jason saw the anger roiling.
He stood and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
In the hall, he pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a deep breath. That hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped. It was his second epic failure on the first night in the new house that was supposed to mark the beginning of their new lives.
His air mattress was stiff and unforgiving, but that wasn’t the reason Jason couldn’t sleep. He’d given up and opened a book - Richard Matheson’s Hell House; one of his favorites - and by the light of a lamp he’d propped on the floor, his eyes moved over the words. But his mind wasn’t in on it. He was screwing up with both of the kids, he knew that, but it was Brent he was more worried about.
He and Julia had been young when they’d had him - they were no more than kids themselves - and he often wondered if their youth and lack of experience was to blame for their firstborn’s moody disposition and poor coping skills. He recalled the day they’d chosen his name: Brent - because it was solid, strong, and capable. But Jason knew - as surely as Julia had known - that of their two children, it was Amber who would carve out her place in the world. It was Amber who would stand strong in the face of adversity and triumph over hardships. As long as I don’t screw her up, too, that is …
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