Summer in Good Hope (A Good Hope Novel Book 2)

by Cindy Kirk

  Max cocked his head. “Camille?”

  “Brynn’s nanny,” David explained. “The woman is a gem.”

  “I didn’t realize Whitney worked outside of the home.” Max tried to recall what he knew about the socialite whom David had met and married nearly a decade earlier while living in Chicago.

  “She doesn’t.” David’s tone was measured and gave no indication of his feelings on the matter. “She travels a lot and doesn’t like being tied down with the day-to-day.”

  A voice over the PA system gave a five-minute warning for pancake feed volunteers to take their stations. Max looked for Prim as he took his spot, but people had already begun lining up, and they blocked his view of the refreshment table.

  Gladys Bertholf nudged him not-so-softly with one bony elbow. “Those plates are going to need sausages on them.”

  Max had been startled when he’d learned Eliza had assigned the ninety-six-year-old to sausage duty. As volunteer jobs went, it was a relatively fast-paced one.

  As the feeding frenzy began, he quickly discovered Gladys was more into supervising than doing any actual work. When she wasn’t telling him to pick up the pace, she was socializing.

  “See and be seen” appeared to be her mantra.

  She definitely stood out in her leopard-print dress and filmy purple cape. No mundane red, white, and blue for the woman with the jet-black hair and bold skunk stripe. But it wasn’t just Gladys’s flamboyant appearance that drew people to her; her vivacious personality made her stand out in any crowd.

  She chatted and preened while Max rushed to do her job and his, too. But she was so obviously enjoying the day that he couldn’t hold her lack of initiative against her.

  “How’s it going here?” Dakota, holding a clipboard and looking festive in blue shorts and an Uncle Sam tee, took in the situation.

  Since Max was on a dead run, Gladys spoke with the girl. After a couple of minutes Dakota nodded and moved on.

  “Is she getting another person to help us?” Max asked, grabbing another pan of sausages as the line backed up.

  Surprise skittered across the woman’s face. “I think two is more than adequate,” she told him. “Although I did mention to Dakota—isn’t that a lovely name?—that I was getting fatigued.”

  Can a person get worn out from too much talking? Max dismissed the uncharitable thought the moment it arose.

  Gladys was elderly—though he’d never use that word within her hearing—and right now her cheeks appeared a bit flushed. Although it might be simply a case of too much rouge.

  “I requested Dakota send over another volunteer,” Gladys continued, then stepped forward to greet another friend.

  Five more minutes passed. Gladys continued to socialize, although she seemed to now be hyping George M, the musical that would open at the community playhouse next week. A musical in which she had a starring role.

  “Dakota said you needed me?”

  Max’s head jerked up at the familiar lilting voice, then he realized Prim wasn’t speaking to him. Her gaze was focused on Gladys, who was all smiles.

  “Thank you so much for coming.” The older woman held out both hands to Prim, air-kissed each of her cheeks. “You’re just in time.”

  Prim smiled hesitantly. “What can I help you with?”

  The line had backed up again, so Max didn’t wait for the answer. He returned to adding sausages to the platters of pancakes.

  Suddenly Prim was beside him, grabbing sausages with the extra set of tongs Gladys hadn’t once touched.

  He slanted a sideways glance. “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like? Gladys asked me to exchange places with her. She said the pace was too slow for her.”

  Max couldn’t help but grin. Almost immediately he and Prim fell into a comfortable rhythm that kept the food lines flowing smoothly. Working side by side with Prim had turned the overcast day bright and sunny.

  “Max. Prim. Big smiles.”

  Heads close together, they glanced up at the same time.

  Gladys snapped a picture. After glancing at her phone to check the shot, the older woman beamed. “You two make the cutest couple.”

  Without another word, the star of community theater swept off into the crowd.

  “What just happened?” Max asked.

  “I’d say we were punked.” Prim laughed and shook her head. “By a real pro.”

  “How was the pancake feed?” Steve Bloom leaned back in his deck chair, the picture of contentment in a madras shirt, Bermuda shorts, and slip-on sneakers.

  “Judging by the crowds, I’d say a huge success.” Prim lifted the glass of sun tea her father had pressed on her when she’d arrived to pick up the boys.

  “The boys wanted to come home and play, so we didn’t stay long.” Her dad’s gaze settled on his soaking-wet grandsons, a fond smile on his lips. “I’m glad you brought their suits.”

  “I thought they might want to run through the sprinkler.” She winced as a water balloon hit Connor square in the face. But her youngest only laughed with glee and pelted his brother in the chest. “I’m sure this is much more fun.”

  “They’re great boys, Prim.” He slanted a glance at her as he sipped his tea. “I’m so happy you moved back. Three hours away was three hours too far.”

  “You know I loved Milwaukee.” She leaned back in the Adirondack chair and smiled. “But Good Hope is home.”

  “Losing that job of yours ended up being a blessing in disguise.”

  “It did.” When the company she’d worked for since college had been bought out and she’d been offered a severance package, she’d taken the money and run . . . straight back to Good Hope.

  Prim took a long drink of tea and lifted her face to the sun, reveling in the warmth on her skin. “I hated to uproot the boys, but this way they can grow up surrounded by family.”

  “With the money from the insurance settlement, you’ll be able to stay at home with the boys.”

  “I’ll probably find something part-time once they’re back in school, but you’re right, it does give me some options.” Prim sighed. “I just wished it didn’t feel like blood money.”

  “Your husband lost his life because someone in that factory didn’t do his job. You should be able to count on a climbing harness doing its job.” Steve’s face turned grave. “Rory should have been able to count on it.”

  “I know. That’s why I pursued the case.” Prim had let her lawyers do their best, not just for Rory but for his sons. Because of the money she’d soon receive, instead of rushing the twins to day care every morning, then picking them up with just enough time for dinner, baths, and a bedtime story, she was able to be at home with her boys.

  “Earth to Prim.”

  Her father’s teasing words had her turning in his direction.

  “Sorry, Dad.” She offered an apologetic smile. “I didn’t sleep well last night after all the commotion, and I’m a bit spacy.”

  “I wished you’d called me. But I’m glad Max was there for you.” He studied her for several seconds. “There isn’t anyone I trust more.”

  Prim wasn’t sure how to respond to that pronouncement. “He’s a good neighbor.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of her father’s mouth. “I got the feeling at your housewarming he may be more than just a neighbor.”

  Prim felt her face warm. “We’re, ah, close friends as well.”

  Her father absently rubbed the condensation off his glass with a thumb. “Going through life without someone you love beside you can be lonely.”

  Thinking of Rory—and how distant he’d been the last year before he died—she was tempted to tell her dad it could be lonely even when you were with someone you loved. But something in his eyes had her reconsidering. This conversation wasn’t about her anymore.

  “You and Mom were always so close. You did everything together.” Prim spoke softly, hoping to soothe. But when the lines on his forehead only deepened, she reached across
the table to squeeze his hand. “I can’t imagine what it’d be like to lose a spouse who was also your best friend.”

  Only after the words left her mouth did she realize that she’d dissed Rory by the thoughtless comment. Thankfully, her dad didn’t appear to notice.

  His fingers tightened around hers for the briefest of seconds, then relaxed.

  “It helped having Ami here. Watching her find her soul mate reminded me of all the good times your mother and I shared. And Beck is a good man.” Coming from her father, that was high praise. “Now I have you and the boys. With children, everything seems new and fresh again.”

  His eyes softened as his gaze shifted to where the twins were now taking turns pointing the sprinkler at each other. Tattered remnants of what once were brightly colored balloons lay scattered at their feet.

  “I love those boys.” Those hazel eyes, so like her own, returned to her. “I love you, Primrose.”

  “I love you, too, Daddy.” A lump rose to her throat. “Very much. I want you to be happy.”

  “I know you do.” Steve took a long sip of tea. “Anita is a good woman.”

  “You’ve been dating for a while now.” Prim kept her tone conversational.

  “We have fun together.” Her father’s lips quirked in a lopsided smile. “Most of the time, anyway.”

  “Relationships aren’t always easy.”

  “Tell me about it.” He laughed, a low, pleasant rumbling sound. “I never imagined I’d be dating again at my age. But we all need someone.”

  Was that what was going on here? Could it simply be that her father was lonely for companionship and Anita filled that void?

  “I’m lucky that way.” Prim’s gaze settled on her dad and her heart filled with love. “I have my boys and my sisters. And you.”

  “Sometimes a person needs more,” her dad said.

  “Not always.” An image of Max surfaced but was quickly shoved aside. “I’m perfectly happy with my life just the way it is, at least for right now. I don’t need more.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Maybe she did need more, Prim thought to herself as she strolled down Good Hope’s Main Street with her father and Anita. The boys ran ahead, but close enough she could keep her eyes on them.

  There was something a bit pathetic about being twenty-eight years old and being the fifth wheel on your father’s Saturday-night date with his girlfriend.

  Until he’d hooked up with Anita, her dad had displayed good judgment in all parts of his life. Prim slanted a sideways glance at the divorcée, dressed casually—but seductively—in a clingy jersey dress with a scooped neck that showed an ample amount of cleavage.

  It was easy to see how her dad had been sucked in. Anita was an attractive woman and she could be charming. At fifty-nine, her father still had a lot of life to live. While something in her rebelled against her dad having any kind of sexual needs, she wondered if that was a large part of his attraction to Anita.

  Prim frowned. Could that be what was going on between her and Max? Simple physical need between two people with a lot of life to live? It felt like so much more, but then what did she know?

  “What in the world are they doing?”

  Anita’s irritated voice had Prim’s head swiveling. By the woman’s shrill tone, Prim expected Connor and Callum to be swimming in a mud puddle or climbing onto the hood of a parked Mercedes. Instead, one of the boys must have brought a rubber snake with him. When one twin tossed it high into the air, the other would catch it.

  Since they seemed to be avoiding bumping into anyone—a miracle—Prim had no problem with the harmless game. Neither, apparently, did her father.

  “They’re being boys, Anita.” The affection in his tone warmed Prim’s heart. “Having fun.”

  “I always made my girls stand right beside me whenever we went out.” Anita’s tone was milder than it could have been, but the censure came through loud and clear.

  When the muscle in her father’s jaw jumped, Prim knew he’d caught it, too.

  “Sounds like we have another good band this year.” This time Steve spoke directly to Prim.

  “Music in the Square is one of my favorite pre-Fourth activities.” Prim let her gaze linger on the red-white-and-blue street banners that decorated each light pole.

  Festivities were planned for every weekend leading up to the main event. The businesses they passed, as well as the ones up ahead, already sported patriotic themes and colors.

  Because of the crowds swarming the square, they’d had to park several blocks away.

  “I can’t believe you couldn’t find anything closer, Steve,” Anita griped. “By the time we get to the square my feet are going to be killing me.”

  Personally, Prim thought Anita complained just to get her father to look at her shiny red toenails and strappy heeled wedges. Unlike Anita, this evening she’d gone for comfort.

  She’d tossed on a white eyelet dress and let her hair go wild, then grabbed a pair of her most comfortable shoes. Though her father had wanted them to all ride together, she’d driven separately, compromising by parking next to him and Anita. She wanted the flexibility of being able to leave whenever the boys got too rowdy or she could no longer take Anita’s whining.

  The crowds around them began to thicken and Prim called the boys back to them. They came willingly, showing their grandfather the realistic-looking snake and chattering how their mom had promised them a snow cone if they were good.

  As the twins fell into step beside the older man, one grandson on each side, Prim found herself stuck beside Anita.

  Make an effort, Prim told herself. “How are Lindsay and Cassie doing?”

  Although Prim had been younger than either of Anita’s two daughters, she’d been acquainted with both of them.

  “Lindsay is still working as a floral designer at the Enchanted Florist.” Anita’s tone conveyed mild disapproval. “I told her on our shopping trip this weekend that she should be owning her own shop, not working in one.”

  It took all of Prim’s self-restraint not to bring up Bernie, the Bagel King. It was Anita’s divorce several years ago from the bagel magnate that had given her the money to start her own business.

  “Dad works for the school system and he’s perfectly happy.” Prim kept her tone light. “He certainly doesn’t feel the need to have his own business.”

  Prim glanced pointedly at her father, but he was wiggling the snake and making the twins squeal.

  “That’s totally different.” Anita sniffed but cast a worried glance in Steve’s direction.

  Satisfied her point had been made, Prim smiled and changed the subject. “Is Lindsay dating anyone?”

  “She’s barely thirty.” Anita bristled. “Not everyone jumps into marriage directly out of college.”

  Prim absorbed the punch and wondered if the boys would prefer going for ice cream over hearing the band. Only because she knew leaving so early would stress her dad, she tried again. “How’s Cassie? Her daughter, Dakota, seems like a lovely girl. She was a big help at the pancake feed this morning.”

  Anita adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder. “Cassie and I have been estranged in recent years. Because of that I’ve been kept from my grandchildren.”

  That comment fell squarely into the bucket of “the truth according to Anita.” Prim recalled quite clearly when Anita had washed her hands of Cassie—and her children—when her daughter had refused to follow her dictates. In deference to her father’s fondness for Anita, Prim chose not to muddy the waters with any pesky facts. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “It happens in even the best families.” Anita’s hands fluttered like a bird in the air. “Now that Cassie has kicked that loser, Clint Gourley, out of her house, I’m hopeful we can reconnect.”

  Prim decided it best not to mention she’d run across loser Clint at the beach.

  “Did Dad tell you the boys will be visiting Rory’s parents in a couple of weeks?” Prim kept her tone conversational, still sea
rching for neutral ground.

  “I don’t believe he mentioned it.” The tension on Anita’s face eased. “I’ve always enjoyed Deb Delaney. A wonderful woman and so devoted to her son. I remember when Rory was diagnosed. Deb and Mike were devastated. But of course, what else would you expect? Their only child had received a death sentence.”

  While the medical community had made great strides in recent years with CF treatment, back when Rory had been diagnosed, the outlook had been grim. As a parent, Prim couldn’t imagine getting such news.

  “I can’t imagine what a relief it was that neither of your boys has CF. It being genetic and all.” Anita exhaled a heavy, melodramatic breath. “That was quite a risk you took. Well, I guess that’s why Rory had never planned on having children. But what’s meant to be will be, right?”

  People, Prim thought, need to keep their mouths shut.

  It was true Rory hadn’t been planning for children. Neither of them had. When he told her he would have a vasectomy, she’d understood completely. They’d both been terrified when they found out she was pregnant. For weeks Rory had been beside himself with guilt over the thought he might have passed his disease on to his child.

  From the moment they heard those twin heartbeats, there was never any question that her getting pregnant was the best thing that had ever happened. Rory wanted the babies as much as she did, and not even the worry that the boys might have inherited CF was going to dampen their joy. After all, hadn’t Rory been living proof that you could have a life bigger than your disease?

  Deb had blamed her for the pregnancy, obviously forgetting it took two to tango.

  Prim could still hear the hurtful words Deb had hurled at her when she found out. Rory had quickly put an end to that, and ever since, Deb had been civil to her, but Prim wasn’t sure she could ever completely forgive or forget.

  The boys had been a blessing then and they were a blessing now.

  “Walking this far is ridiculous,” Anita whined, limping a little.