Tears clustered in her eyes. “No, it’s not,” she snapped, stepping away so he wouldn’t see her cry. “He’s an obnoxious brat and he’s punishing me for moving here. And for everything else, too.”
She heard him take a step closer. “He’s a kid with a chip on his shoulder. Give him space, but let him know you love him unconditionally. He’ll come around.”
Kristin wished she could believe that. She swiped away the tears with her fingers and turned. “I hope you’re right. Sometimes it feels like I’m talking to a complete stranger, but I do love him. He’s my life. I used to call us the dynamic duo. We did everything together, and we had a lot of fun. I hope he remembers that someday when he’s not so angry.”
Donnie put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “He will.”
The connection went deeper than he’d intended, she was sure. It spread like warm honey through her flesh, and she might have melted in a boneless heap if not for a sudden crashing sound from inside the store.
“Uh-oh,” a small voice said. “Jenny, I’ve spilled the thingies.”
“That’s the second time she’s called you Jenny,” Donnie remarked.
“She gets confused. I’d better go. Thanks for helping me out this morning.”
“No problem. I gotta run. Lucas is waiting for me to take him shopping,” he said, hurrying down the steps. “Don’t you hate it when you’re late, and your son gets this look that tells you you’re the worst parent in the world?”
Kristin wondered if this actually had happened or Donnie was just trying to be nice. “I know it well.”
Donnie paused a moment. “I meant to get some business cards from you. Will you be home tonight? I usually go for a run after dinner. I could pick up a stack. Unless that’s too late.”
A run? It sounded like heaven. What she wanted most was to run toward the east and just keep going. “Sure. No problem. I’m staying at Jenny and Josh’s old place, you know.”
His chuckle curled around the wind chimes above her head and zinged her like a wet towel. “This is Gold Creek, Kris. Your new brother-in-law may have given “Glory’s World” the ax, but there’s still the grapevine.”
He nodded goodbye and walked away.
Feeling a bit unsettled and a little blue, Kris went to investigate the source of the crash. A canister was lying on its side—paper clips spread in every direction. Ida Jane had started picking them up but had apparently got sidetracked. At times, her great-aunt’s attention span rivaled Zach’s at age four.
“Cool necklace you’re making, Auntie,” Kris said, noticing the chain of clips in Ida’s lap.
She took a broom and dustpan from behind the counter and completed the cleanup. She contemplated salvaging the clips from the dusty mess, but gave up. As she dumped everything into the trash, she noticed a newspaper that had fallen behind some sacks. She pulled it free, intending to toss it away, too, but the headline caught her eye: Developer Plans Big for Gold Creek.
Kris hadn’t had time to read the paper in weeks. On the way to the airport to pick up Zach, Jenny and Andi had been discussing a recent Chamber of Commerce meeting, but Kris had been too preoccupied to pay attention.
She drew up a stool beside her aunt and scanned the front page. To her surprise, two of the bylines were attributed to Gloria Harrison Hughes. Tyler’s mother. Kris knew that Jonathan had made an effort to keep as many of the Ledger’s original employees as wished to stay, but she’d been sure Gloria would leave out of loyalty to her brother, the previous owner.
For years, Gloria’s column “Glory’s World” had chronicled local gossip, speculation, rumor and opinion with a free hand. Kristin and her sisters had, for the most part, basked in Glory’s goodwill until the night Kris had wound up naked with Gloria’s son. After that, the author’s tone had changed.
Now the column was history, and Gloria had been assigned to cover local news—just as her son was making it.
“Auntie, listen to this.” She read aloud from the article: “‘Although Meridian, Inc. CEO Tyler Harrison was unavailable for comment, the company announced that it was exploring economic options in the Gold Creek area.’”
Ida gave her a look that said, So what?
Kris read a little farther, noting quotes from local residents. Those advocating change saw Meridian as the key to progress. No matter what the company planned, the result would be more jobs and increased property values. Those opposed wanted to keep Gold Creek virtually the same as it had always been.
“What do you think, Auntie?”
“Never trust a Harrison.”
A shiver of unease made Kristin jump to her feet. Ty’s father had embezzled money from the local bank to cover his bad investments then committed suicide when Tyler was about Zach’s age.
“Maybe Ty wants to atone for his father’s activities,” she said, helping her aunt to stand.
Although Andi was one of those adamantly against anything that might destroy the character of Gold Creek, Kristin was more concerned about Ty’s timing. Why after eleven years without a word, was he now coming back to Gold Creek?
“Or could be he wants somebody to pay for what happened with his daddy,” Ida Jane said.
Kristin didn’t want to think about Ty. Any day now, she expected to hear from her attorney about a custody hearing. If Tyler Harrison was out for revenge, she knew whose name would be at the top of his list.
DONNIE FINISHED chopping a stalk of celery and added it to the salad he was making for dinner. Lucas was in his bedroom, no doubt playing the new video game he’d purchased with money Sandy had sent him. Donnie’s mother was due home any minute from her exercise class. He’d encouraged her to sign up for Jazzercise after her checkup showed an alarmingly high cholesterol level.
They’d changed their diet, too, and Donnie had taken up running again. Unfortunately, Lucas resisted his father’s invitation to join him. The boy was content to spend his free time playing video games or practicing guitar; the lack of exercise had contributed to a weight problem that had started when Donnie and Sandy first separated.
“Lucas, did you sweep out the garage?”
The mumbled answer could have been either a positive or a negative. Before Donnie could follow through, however, the kitchen door opened and a slim, attractive woman in baggy pink sweatpants and a loose T-shirt emblazoned with the words Dynamic Granny across the chest walked in. “Hello, dear, how was your day?” Maureen Grimaldo asked.
Usually, Donnie counted his blessings that his mother was willing to share a home with him and help raise Lucas, but Donnie couldn’t help feeling guilty. Maureen Grimaldo was an active, vital fifty-four-year-old widow. She claimed she enjoyed a full life in Gold Creek, but Donnie felt she deserved more. And he planned to see she got it—once he completed his air marshal training.
He wasn’t deluding himself about the demands this new job would make on his time, but with the additional income—and if Sandy would live up to her obligations—they’d be able to make it work.
“I got my approval notice today,” he said softly. He’d shared his aspirations with his mother but very few others. Not even Lucas knew. Donnie hadn’t wanted to broadcast his plans in case he was turned down.
Maureen dropped her gym bag and purse on a chair and rushed across the room. “Congratulations, honey,” she exclaimed, hugging him. “I’m so proud of you.”
He basked in her praise a minute then carried the salad bowl to the table. “How was your day? Did you hear from Aunt Roberta?” Maureen’s sister hadn’t been feeling well for several weeks and had been scheduled for tests today.
His mother poured herself a glass of water and added a slice of lemon to it. “Actually, that’s why I’m late. I stopped at the travel bureau on the way home. The news isn’t good.”
Donnie swallowed. Travel? “Sit down. Why don’t you tell me about it before I call Lucas to the table.”
Maureen kept it simple, as was her style. A cancerous mass near the kidney. Immediate surgery
. A possible transplant in the future.
“A kidney transplant? You’d be the donor?”
She shrugged. “If I match. Roberta’s the only one left on my side of the family, and she’s such a wonderful person. I’ll do whatever I can. But right now, I just want to be with her.”
Donnie felt his dream slide a little farther out of reach.
“Isn’t it fortunate that Sandy is taking Lucas this year,” Maureen asked rhetorically.
Donnie nodded. Now wasn’t the time to announce his ex-wife’s change of plan. He loved his aunt, and he owed his mother far too much to make her feel badly about doing what she needed to do.
Two hours later, as his Nikes pounded the pavement and sweat dripped down the sides of his face, Donnie kept his mind purposefully blank. He should never have gotten his hopes up. If only Magnus wasn’t such an odious boss. Donnie had been spinning his wheels—wasting his talent, some said—for nearly eight years. If Magnus Brown won a third term this November, Gold Creek would be in big trouble. At one time, Donnie had actually considered running for sheriff, but then had decided to apply to the FAM program instead.
There has to be a way to make this happen, he thought. Maybe Sandy’s mom could help out.
Paulette “Poopsie” Grossman was in her mid-seventies, but she seemed older. It wasn’t surprising, Donnie thought, considering the hard life she’d led. Currently, she lived in Redding with her eldest son, Elroy, who owned a ranching operation.
If Poopsie would move in… The idea suddenly struck him as so odious he stopped midstride and bent over to catch his breath. Poopsie was a whiny, cigarette-smoking junk-food addict. No way could he subject his son to that woman’s company for any sustained length of time. Lucas had enough problems without adding Poopsie’s influence.
Donnie just about to take off again when he looked around and realized he was only a block away from Kristin’s house. He knew the place well since he and Sandy had socialized with Josh and Jenny when the couple first returned to Gold Creek after college.
The night had turned chilly. Donnie sprinted the remaining block and shot diagonally across Kristin’s yard, vaulting over a mountain bike lying on its side beside a low hedge. A muted bark came from the backyard of the house.
Breathing hard, he rapped on the door. The exterior light snapped on. Donnie jogged in place to retain his body heat. There was a sound from behind the door but nothing happened. “Kris? It’s Donnie. Do you have those cards for me?”
The door opened a crack, and the silhouette of a head became visible. “Hi,” he said, again in a friendly tone. “Zach, right? We met this afternoon at the bordello. I’m Donnie Grimaldo. The cop.”
The head moved a smidgen.
“Is your mom here?”
“She got a call.”
His first thought—an emergency with Ida Jane—was tempered by the possibility Kristin might be giving a massage.
“Could I use your bathroom a sec?”
Zach made a rude noise. “Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna open the door to some a-hole I don’t know. You think I’m nuts?”
Donnie stopped jogging. “No. I’d think that you were being smart if we were in the city or even in a town like Gold Creek if I were a complete stranger. But your mother tried to introduce us this afternoon. If you hadn’t been so rude, we might have talked.”
Although his face was shadowed, Donnie could see the boy’s upper lip curl back in a sneer. “Well, too bad. ’Cause I ain’t letting you in.”
A pair of headlights pulled into the driveway, ending the stalemate. Donnie recognized Kristin’s car. Her son slammed the door.
“Hi,” she said. The light from the windows illuminated her smile. “I forgot you said you might stop by. Have you been waiting long?”
He shook his head.
She opened the door with her key and motioned for him to follow. “Where’s Zach? Didn’t he answer the door?”
Donnie kept his distance. He was sweaty and she was perfectly lovely in her broken-in jeans and sloppy sweatshirt. And she smelled like…Kris. In high school, when other girls were testing fragrances, Kristin had chosen one and stuck with it.
He stepped away. “Mind if I use the facilities?” he asked, starting down the hallway.
“It’s the second door—”
“I know,” he cut in. “I’ve been here before.”
Donnie used a washcloth and towel to freshen up. Before leaving the bathroom, he checked out the reading material in a basket near the toilet. A Rolling Stone magazine with Lenny Kravitz on the cover. A couple of copies of Sports Illustrated and a Musician’s Friend catalog. The last had two dog-eared pages. Obviously Zach’s choices.
So. He’s interested in guitars. Just like Lucas, Donnie noted. I wonder if he plays.
“Hi, again,” he said, looking around as he walked into the living room. “You’ve done a nice job in here.” A rainbow-hued mobile in one corner was a bit New Age for his liking, but the dozen or so cream-colored pillar candles and profusion of plants made the area look peaceful and welcoming. There was no television, he noticed.
“Thanks. I call it feng shui on a budget,” she said, returning from hanging her son’s jacket in the front-hall closet.
“Feng shui. I’ve heard of that. It’s a kind of mushroom, right?”
She looked momentarily at a loss until she realized he was teasing. Her laugh spiraled around him in a cascade of color and light that sent him careening into the past. It made him yearn for a time—a feeling—that lived all too vividly in his memory. He’d loved her once, with a purity and sweetness that had known only hope and boundless possibilities.
But that had ended. They’d gone their separate ways and there was no changing that. He was poised for the future, and he wasn’t going to blow it this time.
“Zach mentioned something about a call,” Donnie said, feeling the need to make small talk.
“Ida Jane couldn’t remember how to find Jeopardy on the new satellite dish Jonathan installed. Andi was asleep—wiped out from her doctor’s appointment—and Jonathan was at a meeting, so Ida called me.”
“Kristin to the rescue.”
His tone must have come off less neutral than he’d intended because Kristin tilted her head in question. “Is something wrong?”
Yeah. Everything. “Nope. Everything’s peachy.”
Her lips flattened as if trying not to smile. “Me, too. If you overlook the guillotine hanging above my head.”
For a moment, he was tempted to tell her about his dilemma.
But before he could open his mouth, Zach walked out of the kitchen to Donnie’s right. Suddenly grateful that he hadn’t spilled his guts, Donnie looked at Kris and said, “Do you have those cards and flyers?”
Kris walked directly to a small, antique desk with curved legs and a matching chair upholstered in dusky-gold silk. The upper part of the desk sported a row of cubbyholes along the back. The desk had been in the triplets’ study room at the bordello.
Donnie remembered the room well. It was where he and Kris had made love for the first time. Each a virgin. Each nervous, needy and certain their love would last forever.
“Did you used to date my mom?” a youthful voice asked. The tone held enough hostility that at first Donnie was afraid the boy had read his mind.
“Yes,” Donnie answered.
He heard the boy’s implied question as well. To ask it would have left Zach vulnerable. Exposed.
“I was a year ahead of your mother in school. She was a cheerleader, and I played football. We went steady for a couple of years. Right, Kris?”
She nodded, but looked too surprised to speak.
“Then I went off to college, and your mother discovered I wasn’t the only fish in the sea.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the look on Zach’s handsome, troubled face made him feel like a jerk. The boy deserved the truth, but Donnie wasn’t sure how much Kristin had told him or wanted him to know.
“You broke up, and she got tog
ether with my…dad?”
Donnie wasn’t sure why Zach had chosen to include him in this discussion. He looked to Kris for guidance.
“Are you sure it’s not you? That you didn’t knock her up and for some reason she’s not telling you?”
The question hit Donnie hard. If only…
“Zachariah Sullivan,” Kristin said sharply. “That’s enough. I explained what happened and who your father is.”
“Yeah, but you obviously slept around. You could be wrong,” her son returned nastily.
Before either adult could react, the boy shot from the room. His bedroom door slammed resoundingly.
Kristin looked stunned.
Donnie reacted without thinking. He walked to her and pulled her into his arms. A heartbeat later she burst into tears. He felt her link her arms behind him. Donnie lowered his chin and breathed in the smell of her frothy curls. So sweet, so…
He opened his eyes, marshaling his thoughts. He knew better than to go down that road. He could comfort an old friend without losing his head.
Kristin seemed to regain her composure at the same moment. She stepped back and dug in her pocket for a tissue. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “That was nice of you. And generous. He’s been acting out a lot, but that’s the first time he’s attacked a stranger.”
“It comes with the territory. I’m a cop.”
She cocked her head thoughtfully. “Well, you’re a really good cop.”
For some reason, her praise was comforting. It didn’t take away his disappointment at the thought of having to turn down the FAM program, but it helped. “I guess I’m okay for a local yokel.”
She must have heard more in his tone than he’d intended. “What’s that mean?”
Donnie sighed. “Nothing. Sorry.”
He turned to leave, but she stopped him. “Talk to me, Donnie. I cried on your shoulder, now it’s your turn.”
“I’m fine. The politics of the job get to me every now and then. You know how it is in small towns. The good old boy network is alive and well.”
She made a rueful sound and picked up a small gray box that had gotten pushed behind a stack of magazines. “I guess I assumed that would have changed by now, but don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts about your career. I don’t believe it. You always wanted to be a deputy.”
The Comeback Girl Page 4
