Page 82 of One Kind Hand

He led her into his kitchen and pulled out a chair at his small table. “Sit and tell me what’s been dumped on you today.”

As the man bustled around his kitchen, assembling a killer ice cream sundae—complete with whipped cream and no bananas, bless him—Charlie unloaded the day’s events. Eugene listened, as he always did, and when she was finished and he sat across from her at the table, he stretched his arm to her, taking her hand.

“That all does sound like a pile o’shit, Charlie. I’m sorry that got thrown your way today.” He scooped up some ice cream and shoveled it into his mouth, sighing a little. Charlie sincerely hoped his was fat-free frozen yogurt because the man had survived a heart attack a couple months ago and Isabel was the Diet Police when it came to what her grandfather ate.

“It isn’t how I expected today to go,” Charlie said, arrowing her own spoon into her sundae. “I mean, it was supposed to be the best day because I got to film with Austin Rayhill.” She raised her spoon to her mouth. “Instead, I scared the poop out of him then he dumped me.”

“But did he really dump you?” Eugene asked, grabbing a napkin from the pile in the middle of the table. “He was with a woman, but you didn’t get to talk to him, right?”

“I didn’t talk to him.” She took another scoop from her sundae, hoping the cold ice cream might numb her brain.

And her heart.

“He said we could talk, but instead of contacting me, he’s spending tonight with someone else.” She shrugged. “I was an idiot for believing he’d actually choose me anyway.”

Eugene’s head snapped up and he stuck his spoon into his sundae so it stood straight up. “Why wouldn’t he choose you, Charlie?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but Eugene wasn’t finished speaking yet.

“I’ve known you your entire life,” he said. “You’re a wonderful person. You’ve been the greatest friend to Isabel. You’re a talented pilot and you’re willing to use your skills to help people. You’ve got a big heart.” He yanked his spoon from his sundae and waved it at her. “We’re not blood, but I’m proud to call you my granddaughter right alongside Isabel.”

And cue the tears.

“Aww, honey, don’t cry.” Eugene was suddenly on her side of the table.

“Why are you always so nice to me?” she blubbered into his chest.

He handed her a napkin and she mopped at her eyes and face. “Because you’re a member of my family, Charlie. Always have been.” He gave her a squeeze. “Now we’re going to finish these sundaes before they melt all over my kitchen. You’re going to sleep on everything that happened today, and tomorrow, when you wake up, you’ll know exactly what needs to be done. Everything always looks better in the morning.”

“It probably will because you made me use ice cream as a mood adjuster,” she said as she picked up her spoon again. “I was going to use vodka.”

Eugene let out a hearty laugh and the sound made Charlie think about all the wonderful times she’d spent with Isabel and her grandfather. Thank God these fabulous people were a part of her life.

After every speck of ice cream had been consumed, Charlie took the dishes to Eugene’s sink, washed them, and put them away.

“Thanks, Eugene. I needed this.”

He pulled her into a hug. “Anytime, kid.” He walked her to his front door, but before he opened it, he waited for Charlie to meet his gaze. “You listen closely to this next part, okay?”

She nodded, surprised by his seriousness all of a sudden.

“Remember that you are one of the most incredible people I know, Charlene Moyen,” he said, “and that movie star guy would be a damn fool to let you get away.”

Charlie rose up on her toes to press a kiss to Eugene’s cheek. “Good night, Eugene.”

“Good night, honey.”

She jogged back to her SUV and climbed into the driver’s seat. She hadn’t gotten to talk to Isabel, but Eugene had done wonders to improve her mood. And he was right. In the morning, things would be clearer. She could call Austin before the shoot tomorrow and maybe grab a second to talk to make sure she’d actually seen what she’d thought she’d seen. If he didn’t want to forgive her or if he was with another woman, she’d have to accept that and move on. That sounded reasonable, but it left her stomach feeling hollow even though it was still full of ice cream.

With a shake of her head when she checked her phone to find no texts or missed calls from Austin, she started her vehicle and left Pine River Cottages to head for home. As she neared her parents’ house, however, flashing red lights instantly drew her attention. When she realized those lights were on an ambulance parked in front of her parent’s house, she jerked the wheel to pull over.

She was out of the SUV before she’d barely turned off the engine. A light flurry had begun, but that didn’t stop her from flying across the front lawn. Charlie skidded to a stop when she caught sight of her mother’s wheelchair on the ramp. The should-have-been-condemned ramp. The two small front wheels were lodged into broken wooden planks and one of the front leg supports was bent at an odd angle.

“What happened here?” she asked a police officer. “This is my parents’ house.”

“We got a report of what sounded like a domestic dispute at this address,” the police officer told her. “When we got on the scene, one Gerald Moyen was swearing up a hurricane on that ramp there while his wife, Donna Moyen, was stuck on said ramp in her wheelchair. Gerald was yanking and yanking—”

“And swearing and swearing,” Charlie added, pinching the bridge of her nose.