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And he still couldn’t figure out why she’d wanted him out of her life so soon. The whole “Robbie’s out of prison” thing felt almost contrived. He couldn’t see the dude coming after her in revenge for what had happened fifteen years ago. The idea sounded too much like something he could watch as a cable television movie. The guy getting paroled was likely an excuse to keep Lucas back, to give a good reason to basically dump him.
Maybe she needed time.
Or maybe it was truly over between them.
He’d tried to keep his hands occupied with getting his brother’s house in order. He’d completed the painting of both porches, even calling in a roofer to fix a few shingles that looked damaged. The maid service had scrubbed every square inch of the house, and after one gave him a card of a professional organizer, he’d set up an appointment with her to organize the kitchen and the closets. The kids had been remarkably good for the past two days, as if sensing his hurt, not even mentioning Addy.
Well, except for Charlotte—she kept asking for chocolate chip cookies.
He’d glimpsed Addy only once, and she’d avoided eye contact. The sight of her literally made him ache so he’d turned his back and pretended she didn’t exist.
It was for the best. His emotions were as tangled as the blind cords in the living room, and he’d spent a good thirty minutes trying to untangle them only to have to take the scissors and whack the cord.
“Time to go, Uncle Lucas,” Chris said behind him.
Lucas turned to find Chris clad in a bright red racing suit. “Well, at least I’ll be able to find you in the race.”
“I’ll be easy to find,” Chris grinned, chest puffed out. “I’ll be the kid out front.”
Lucas chuckled as Michael came in wearing way too much cologne. “Dude, that’s way too much Axe body spray.”
Michael’s face fell. “Really? How do I get it off?”
“You don’t. And we don’t have time for a shower. Rule of thumb is one, maybe two, squirts,” Lucas said, glancing toward the stairway, placing the scissors high on the shelf of the nearby bookcase. “Don’t worry, we’ll put the windows down on the drive. Can you fetch Charlotte? Grammy and Grampy should be here in the next few minutes.”
Michael walked to the base of the stairs and hollered, “Charlotte!” at the top of his lungs.
“Okay, I couldn’t have done that,” Lucas muttered looking around for the Creampie backpack he’d put together for his niece’s stay with his parents. Michael was attending his first school dance with Hannah, the chick he had a crush on, and he hadn’t wanted to take Charlotte to the motor cross races, not with the way she climbed stuff. Luckily, his mother and father who’d gotten in last night had volunteered to mind Charlotte.
“We need to hurry,” Chris said, glancing at the clock. “I don’t want to be late.”
Lucas’s phone buzzed on the foyer table. He answered as he picked up his keys. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, honey, we’re running late. There was an accident on I-10, and traffic is backed up. Rush hour late Friday, so it’s going to be thirty minutes or so before we get there.”
“I have to leave now, Mom. I’m dropping Michael off at his friend’s house, and Chris has to be at the race by six-thirty.”
“Well, why don’t we just meet you at the races?”
He glanced out the window, and in the darkening shadows, he could just make out both Addy and Flora’s cars in the driveway next door. “Let me talk to the neighbors. They might let Charlotte stay with them until you get here. Trust me, you don’t want to go to the speedway or whatever they call it. Loud, noisy, and lots of rails for Charlotte to climb.”
“Call me back and let me know. If I don’t hear from you, we’ll go to the races and watch Chris.”
Lucas pocketed his phone and looked at Michael. “Find Charlotte and her backpack and meet me by the truck. I’m running next door.”
Michael nodded and Chris scampered toward the truck where Lucas had loaded his repaired bike hours earlier while Lucas crossed the familiar path to Addy’s, feeling leery about facing her again after their bad goodbye.
He knocked several times and saw the swish of the curtains before he heard the bolt in the deadlock slide. The door opened and Addy stood there in porch light, clad in sweats, looking tense.
“Hey, I know I said I wouldn’t bother you anymore, but I’m in a bit of a fix.”
Addy said nothing, lifting her eyebrows, and peering out around him as if the boogey man lurked in the bushes in the front of the house.
“I have to take Chris to his race over on the Westbank and my parents ran into traffic. Can Charlotte stay with you and Flora until they get here? Shouldn’t be more than half an hour.”
Lucas heard Charlotte behind him.
“Addy!” she screeched, running in a pair of pink high-heel slippers with crowns on them. She nearly fell, and Lucas grabbed her before she cracked her head on the porch. “You have cookies?”
