Page 33 of Day Break

“Because he is Lord Byron to me. Your grandfather was just calling him Dog.” I made a hissing sound and waved my hand. “What kind of name is that? That’s like calling your kid Human.” I chuckled.

When Lane didn’t respond, I glanced over to see him watching me.

“What happened to your sister?” I asked, turning the tables on him.

“She died.”

“I surmised that,” I said. “What was her name?” I asked when he didn’t say anything else.

“Sherry,” he answered softly. The way he said her name, I could hear the love and the hurt.

“I’m very sorry,” I said suddenly.

Then Lane surprised me and smiled. “She used to annoy me a lot.” He laughed. “She used to drive all of us nuts. Teenage hormones, I suppose. She even threatened to expose to the world all the terrible things we’d done to her—me, my parents, aunts and uncles, and my cousins. Her entire life she’d kept a diary. My parents have boxes of them in their attic.” He shook his head and sighed as he looked out over the yard. “I lost count of how many times I broke into her room trying to find the red leather books she used to write in.”

He suddenly looked towards the house. “We never found her last one.”

I followed his gaze and suddenly felt worse for borrowing her clothes.

His eyes met mine and for a moment I believed he was going to say something more about it. But then he looked away.

“You don’t live around here, do you?” he asked softly.

I turned away from him and took a deep breath. “No.”

“If you’re in some trouble, I’m a lawyer,” he said.

I tensed. “I don’t need a lawyer.”

“Are you married? Kids?”

“No,” I answered. “I’m tired. I think I’ll head up to bed.” I started to get up. Byron jumped off my lap with a groan. “Goodnight,” I said, leaving my glass for him to take inside.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark.”

- Rabindranath Tagore

Lane

I watched Chloe walk down the pathway across the yard to head up the stairs to the apartment above the garage.

The dog followed her to the base of the stairs, then returned to sit by my feet with a groan.

“Lord Byron,” I said, and the damned thing glanced up at me as if to say. “Yes, what? Can I help you?” I chuckled. Okay, so the name suited him. The dog was even smarter than my grandfather had let on. Whenever I visited, I seriously questioned who was in charge, the dog or my grandfather.

I lost track of time, sitting out by the firepit and thinking of the past. It didn’t hurt so much being here, remembering Sherry.

Looking around the dark yard, all I could think of was the good times we’d had together. Later, after I’d crawled into the bed that I’d slept in most of the summers of my childhood, the dreams flooded my mind and jolted me awake.

An hour before sunrise, I finally gave up trying to sleep and took my laptop downstairs. I wanted to see the sun rise as I worked, something I couldn’t in the city, as my townhouse was surrounded by other buildings.

I pulled on some jeans and a sweatshirt and when I stepped into the kitchen, Chloe was there stirring something that looked like bread dough in a huge white bowl.

“Morning,” she said cheerfully, looking up from the mixture.

“Morning.” I had expected to have some time to work uninterrupted. The sun wasn’t even up yet, and she was cheerfully working.