Picture Perfect

by Sherry Lewis

  Kurt picked up the receive+r again and punched in half of Abby’s number, then hung up quickly. Why didn’t he just call her and ask about Brody? Why did he imagine one phone call would be out of place? After all, he had every right to check on his son. It was the most natural thing in the world. Why did he think Abby would read something else into it?

  Because he wouldn’t only be calling to check on Brody. Because he knew that’s where Brody was. And because he’d also be calling to hear Abby’s voice.

  Cursing under his breath, Kurt returned to the Baxter file and worked his way through each document, finally locating the deed of trust third from the top. Right where it should have been. He tabbed it for future reference and tossed the file onto the growing stack on the corner of his desk.

  Maybe he should check with Abby to make sure she didn’t mind Brody hanging around so much. If she wasn’t married, he wouldn’t hesitate. Or if her husband had come to town with her. Or if she wasn’t so beautiful.

  He reached for the telephone, dropping his hand guiltily when a knock sounded on the door. “Yes?”

  Naomi pushed the door open and stuck her head inside. “I’m going to have to take a little extra time at lunch today. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Sure. Everything all right?”

  “Not really.”

  Naomi had married Bill Franklin, her high-school sweetheart, right after graduation. For a long time they’d been happy, but when Bill lost his job last year, he’d started drinking. Bill’s unemployed status and his drinking made Naomi unhappy. And their relationship had gone steadily downhill. “Anything I can do?”

  Naomi shook her head. “Not yet. But I’m getting closer.”

  Kurt tried not to frown. He hated to see Naomi and Bill break up, especially when he believed they could save their relationship if they worked at it. But Kurt’s own marriage hadn’t been a success, and he didn’t have any right to give unsolicited advice. “What time are you going?”

  “Now. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Just leave the door to my office open so I can hear your phone and see anybody who might wander in.”

  Naomi pushed the door open wider. “I really appreciate this.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  Naomi smiled at him and turned away. He and Naomi were cousins and had grown up together, as close as siblings. If she needed time away from the office, he wouldn’t deny it to her. In fact, he wouldn’t mind taking some extra time himself. For Brody… But there was work he needed to finish first.

  He turned his attention to the Hailey file. An easy divorce. No mudslinging, no name-calling, no custody battle. He tabbed the pertinent pleadings, tossed it onto the stack and grabbed the Simpson bankruptcy file. The pending motion in this one was a little more complicated, and he still had to decide whether to drive up to Seattle for the hearing next week.

  He’d found the motion and settled back to read it when Naomi’s line rang, startling him. He answered it from his office. “Kurt Morgan.”

  “Kurt? It’s Abby Harris.”

  Abby. He struggled to keep his voice calm. “Is everything all right?”

  “Everything’s fine. I’m calling because I was planning on taking Erin and Michael for a short drive up the coast this afternoon and I wondered if Brody could come with us.” Her voice floated through the wire, warm and pleasant. An easy voice to listen to.

  “That’s fine.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  He chuckled. “Not at all. I appreciate your including him. You’re sure he’s no trouble?”

  “He’s no trouble at all.”

  He glanced at his watch. “What time should I pick him up?”

  “What time will you be finished there?”

  “I usually don’t leave until five or a little later, but I can break away whenever.”

  “Why doesn’t he just stay with us until you’re finished? You can pick him up on the way home.”

  Kurt felt a smile stretch his face. “Fine. I shouldn’t be too late.”

  “I’ll see you then.” Abby said softly, and broke the connection.

  Kurt replaced the receiver gently and studied his schedule for the rest of the week. He appreciated Abby’s interest in Brody. He appreciated her taking him along on this jaunt with her own kids. But he couldn’t help feeling guilty that someone else had to provide Brody with the attention he should be getting from his father.

  He noted with satisfaction that Naomi hadn’t penciled in any appointments tomorrow. If he prepped all the files this afternoon, he could take the day off and spend some time with his son.

  KURT CALLED to Brody for the third time and added a dash of salt to the scrambled eggs. Breakfast. A real breakfast like they hadn’t enjoyed together since Kurt couldn’t remember when. And a whole day to spend with each other.

  Brody stumbled into the kitchen, his hair hanging in his eyes, his face puffy from sleep. “What are you cooking?”

  “Scrambled eggs, toast, hash browns…”

  Brody flashed him a confused look. “Why?”

  “Why not?”

  “You never have before.”

  Kurt struggled to keep a smile on his face. “Pour yourself a glass of milk while I dish up these eggs, okay?”

  “I guess.” With a shrug Brody turned away, but he still looked uncertain. He poured his milk in silence and took his place at the table.

  Not for the first time, Kurt felt the width of the chasm that had opened between them since Laura left. But he was determined to keep it from growing. He filled their plates and took his own seat.

  “What would you like to do today?”

  Brody shrugged, “Probably just go to Michael’s.”

  “You two seem to be getting along well.”

  “Michael’s fun. Even his sister isn’t a big pain like a lot of girls.”

  “I’m glad you’ve found somebody to hang around with while I’m at work.” Kurt paused. “Mrs. Harris doesn’t mind you being there, does she?”

  “Nah.” Brody shoved a heaping forkful of food into his mouth. He finished chewing, then continued. “She’s pretty cool for a mom. She doesn’t make Michael do a lot of junk before he can play or anything. And she likes having me around. She told me so.”

  The look of amazement on his face twisted Kurt’s heart. “I’m glad,” he said simply.

  “She wants me to help Erin look for some clamshells and stuff. Since I’ve lived here so long, she thinks I know all the best places to find them.”

  “She’s probably right.”

  For an instant Brody’s startled eyes met Kurt’s, but the boy glanced away so quickly Kurt wondered if he’d imagined it.

  “Yeah, well. I don’t know.” Brody shoveled more food into his mouth and kicked his legs the way he did whenever he felt agitated.

  Now what had he said wrong? Something had struck a nerve, but for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine what. “Instead of going to Michael’s today, how’d you like to go fishing with me?”

  “Fishing?” This time confusion mixed with an equal part of doubt, but Brody’s legs stopped swinging. “Since when do you like to fish?”

  “Grandpa used to take Jack and me all the time when we were boys.”

  “Then how come you don’t fish anymore?”

  “Good question. That’s why I took the day off. I thought I’d try it again. Are you game?”

  Brody almost seemed interested. Almost. But he shook his head. “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Abby wants to take us on a picnic so we can start Erin’s collection. I promised her I’d go.”

  Kurt’s stomach knotted with unexpected jealousy. “Maybe Abby could make it another time. It’s a good day for me—I don’t have any appointments.”

  “You can still go fishing without me.”

  Without Brody, what would be the point? It was supposed to be a bonding thing, something to bring father and son closer together. “Look, Brody�
��”

  The telephone jangled, and as if anxious to escape the conversation, Brody jumped out of his chair to answer it. “Hello?”

  His face brightened. “Hi. Yeah. Eating breakfast with my dad.”

  It must be Michael. At least Kurt had been right about one thing. Michael’s friendship was good for Brody. It was just Brody’s relationship with his dad that needed work.

  Brody laughed.

  Kurt had to reach the boy. Maybe it had taken him too long to see how much Brody had suffered after his mother left. He hadn’t really started trying to help Brody with his grief and his fears until they’d already begun to ease, to mend on their own. But maybe Brody was mending the wrong way. The way broken limbs sometimes did….

  “Dad?”

  With a start Kurt realized Brody had been waiting for a response from him. “What?”

  “It’s for you.” Brody handed him the receiver and slid into his seat. “It’s Abby.”

  Kurt put the phone to his ear and tried to still the sudden pounding of his heart. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning. I just wanted to make sure it would be all right with you if I take Brody on a picnic with us while you’re at work.”

  He could say no and then Brody would go fishing with him. Once he got Brody alone, he was sure everything else would begin to fall into place.

  But glancing at his son’s rigid shoulders and the defiant tilt of his head, Kurt knew he couldn’t do it. “It’s fine, and thank you. He was just telling me about it. You’re sure?”

  “Brody’s a lot of fun,” Abby said lightly.

  Obviously Brody didn’t present the same sullen face to Abby that he did at home. But why would he? Brody’s problem was with Kurt, and only Kurt could resolve it.

  Refusing to let Brody go with Abby and her children would only cause Brody to pull away. He’d let him go now and organize something for the next time he had an open day. He’d keep on trying until he broke through. He would not—could not—turn his back on his son any longer.

  “BRODY, CARRY THE ICE out to the cooler for me, okay? Michael, will you take this bag with the paper plates in it?” Abby ran back over the list in her head to be sure she had everything. She wanted this picnic to go well. For Erin’s sake, she wanted to create a wonderful memory. And she didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot by forgetting anything.

  “What do you want me to do?” Erin stood just inside the door, wide-eyed and uncertain, almost as if she expected Abby to shout at her.

  “Make sure the front door is locked. I’ll lock the back door on the way out.”

  “We never lock our house.” Brody hoisted the bag of ice onto his shoulder. “Nobody does in Pine Cove. Naomi—you know, my dad’s secretary—says it’s kind of weird that you even lock your car when you go to the store.”

  Abby knew people in small towns involved themselves in the affairs of their neighbors, but she certainly wasn’t used to it. She didn’t even know the names of most of her neighbors in Baltimore, and no one there paid the slightest attention to what she did.

  But with Vic’s threats haunting them, Abby would continue to practice security measures. She nodded at Erin, a signal to lock the door anyway, and checked the last bag to make sure the plastic utensils had been included. “Looks like we have everything. Let’s go.”

  Within minutes, they’d made their way out of town to the picnic area a few miles west. The boys, wrapped up in their enthusiasm for their new friendship, leapt from the car as soon as she drew to a stop, and scrambled over the boulders toward the fenced-in scenic overlook area. With the powerful river serene and blue and the sky only slightly overcast, it was the perfect place to help Erin unwind a little.

  Watching the boys, Abby felt her spirits soar. They all needed this—fresh air and exercise, and the water-cooled breezes in their hair.

  She let the boys run for several minutes before calling them back to help unload the picnic gear. Defying local opinion, she locked the car and followed the kids to a stand of trees near an outcropping where several picnic tables overlooked the rocky shore. Michael and Brody chose the one closest to the water. Abby arranged the picnic on the table while the boys raced and climbed and Erin sat on a boulder watching ships on the river.

  Abby approached the girl quietly and touched her hair. “What do you think? Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Erin nodded, but she didn’t say anything.

  “I’m glad we came,” Abby continued.

  Erin’s shoulders tightened and she dropped her head so her hair obscured her face.

  Abby must have said the wrong thing—again. “Do you want to walk with me for a few minutes before lunch?”

  Though Abby knew Erin wouldn’t refuse—she carried too much fear inside to do that—she ached at the way the girl agreed to something she wasn’t sure she wanted to do. In silence, they climbed down the rocks and strolled to the edge of the overlook. At the far end of the park, Michael and Brody squared off against each other for a race back to their picnic table, so Abby turned in the opposite direction.

  Becoming friends with Brody had been wonderful for Michael. Though he still bore obvious emotional scars from his recent ordeal, for the past two nights he hadn’t had the recurring nightmare in which his father came to snatch him.

  But Erin remained distant. Impossible to reach.

  Abby wanted to gather the girl in her arms and comfort her, but she feared that kind of contact would have the opposite effect. Instead, she stuffed her hands into her pockets and looked straight ahead. “We haven’t talked about what you’d like to do this summer.”

  “Anything you want is okay with me.”

  Abby could have predicted that response. “But what do you want to do? Michael’s already found the Little League team, so I think he’s set. Would you like to play, too?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Erin, I want you to be happy.”

  “I’m all right. Really.” But the girl refused to meet her eyes and no smile crossed her lips.

  Abby wished she could ask someone about eleven-year-old girls and the way their minds worked. She longed for help in understanding the psyche of an abused child. But she was on her own, and she had no idea whether to push Erin for an answer or drop the subject.

  After a moment of strained silence, she decided to drop it. For now. Especially since the increased volume of shouting behind them meant they were about to be overwhelmed by the boys.

  Michael and Brody raced past them and ground to a halt several feet ahead. They looked happy and content, their faces red from exertion, their chests heaving under their shirts as they panted for air. Brody leaned over and grabbed his knees, struggling to catch his breath. But something in the distance claimed his attention. Following the direction of his gaze, Abby saw the small silhouette of a man with a fishing pole.

  “Is that my dad?” Brody wondered aloud.

  Abby’s heart gave a surprising lurch. Why did she always feel that sense of anticipation at the thought of seeing Kurt again? Squinting, she studied the figure, but after a few seconds Brody shook his head.

  “No. That’s not him.” He rolled his eyes at Michael. “He wanted to take the day off work and go fishing with me.”

  “Cool!” Michael exclaimed. “Why didn’t you go?”

  “Because I already said I’d come with you guys.”

  Why hadn’t Kurt said something about his plans when she called to ask if Brody could come with them? He hadn’t sounded overly warm on the phone, but she hadn’t noticed any anger. “Maybe you should have gone with your dad,” she said.

  “I didn’t want to. I wanted to come with you.”

  “It might have made him feel bad.”

  Shaking his head, Brody looked at her as if she was crazy. “No, it didn’t. He didn’t care.”

  She didn’t contradict him, but doubt must have shown in her face because Brody stiffened. “He didn’t,” the boy insisted.

  “He probably cares more than
you know.”

  “No, he doesn’t. All he cared about was my mom, but she left. And now all he cares about is work.”

  Everywhere Abby went she ran into another casualty of the war being waged in the name of love. Rachel, Erin, Michael—and now Brody. Not to mention the hundreds of people she’d photographed, whose names she couldn’t remember but whose faces she would never forget.

  Seeing the pain on Brody’s face, Abby longed to help him. She had no doubt he’d misunderstood his father’s sentiments. After all, she’d seen how eager Kurt had been to get home to Brody the night they’d arrived and she’d seen him at Little League practices, giving Brody encouragement and support. Obviously Kurt was no better at reaching his son than she was at getting through to Erin.

  But she believed Kurt could eventually reach Brody if he didn’t give up. And though she might not reach Erin today, eventually she would break through. She had to. She couldn’t allow anyone or anything, not even Kurt Morgan and his son, to distract her from her own priorities—the two children who’d been told to call her mom.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  KURT GLANCED at his watch when Naomi buzzed him. Three o’clock, and he still had a brief to draft and a full two hours of appointments to go. Kurt groaned. It had already been the day from hell.

  In the week since Brody had turned down the fishing trip in favor of a picnic with Abby, Kurt hadn’t had a minute’s respite. With the work flow interrupted by another battle between Naomi and Bill, nothing at the office had gone smoothly for several days.

  Saving a draft on his laptop, Kurt snatched the receiver from the hook. “What is it?”

  “It’s Aunt Zelda.” Naomi spoke in a tight whisper.

  Kurt felt himself cringe. Not now. He’d talk to Zelda any time but now. “Tell her I’m not in.”

  “You tell her you’re not in. I’m not lying to her.”

  “Thanks a lot.” He should never have hired his cousin as his secretary—not if he hoped to avoid Zelda’s calls.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Kurt picked up the line on hold.

  “Are you busy?” Zelda asked.