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Dad:Thanks.
It would mean a couple more hours of work for me, but that was fine. A little hard work had never bothered me.
* * *
A few hours later, I had the drywall done. It was nice to mentally check off a task. One less thing.
When I went outside, I cast a quick glance at Audrey’s place. I wasn’t checking up on her. Just making sure no one had left another present in her yard. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, so I resisted the urge to go knock on her door to make sure she was okay.
She was fine. What was I worried about?
I locked up and left but instead of heading home, I decided there was someone I did need to check up on. My dad.
My parents lived just outside town, in a log home my dad and uncles had built with their own hands. It had a big front porch with a wooden welcome sign and a shop out back, where my dad spent a lot of his time. I hadn’t lived there in a long time, but in some ways, it still felt like home.
I parked out front and knocked a few times but didn’t wait for an answer. Just opened the door and went in. A hint of citrus was in the air and I caught a glimpse of my mom in the living room.
Although I was old enough to remember my biological mother, Marlene Haven was the only mom I’d ever had. She’d been in my life since I was pretty young, and adopted me and my brothers when I was about ten, making the relationship official. I didn’t need the paperwork to think of her as my mother, but I’d always appreciated that she and my dad had done everything they could to take two broken families and make them whole.
She sat on the couch with a lap full of knitting. She was forever knitting something—blankets, sweaters, hats, you name it. Her brown hair was up in a bun and her blue-framed glasses had slipped down her nose.
“Hi, honey.” She looked up and smiled but her needles didn’t stop moving. “Looking for your dad? Or something to eat?”
I hadn’t come to raid their fridge, but that wasn’t a bad idea. “Both?”
“There’s leftover chicken alfredo but it has spaghetti squash instead of pasta. I’m trying to get your dad to cut down on carbs.”
“I’m sure he loves that.”
“He’s convinced I’m trying to ruin his life, not extend it.”
There was amusement in her voice, but I could also hear the concern. We all shared it. Dad had a few chronic health problems, common to men his age, especially those who’d spent most of their adult life as smokers. He’d quit about a dozen times over the past decade. I was pretty sure this last time was for good; it had been a while since anyone had caught him with a cigarette. But Mom was probably right to clean up his diet, whether he liked it or not.
I went to the kitchen, dished up some leftovers, and waited while they warmed in the microwave.
“So I heard there was a little incident at the Timberbeast last night.”
The microwave beeped and I took out my plate. I knew exactly what she was talking about but I decided to play dumb. “What incident?”
“Something about the new girl in town and her ex-boyfriend. Ring any bells?”
I shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“I’m just wondering what really happened. According to Doris Tilburn, you were on a date with the girl and he showed up claiming she was his wife. But Margie Hauser said he was her ex-boyfriend, not her husband, and you threw him out of the bar. Amy Garrett heard it was Zachary, not you, or that you almost started a fight but Zachary stopped it. I know that one’s just town gossip, Zachary would escalate a situation, not calm it down.”
She wasn’t wrong about Zachary. He’d turned escalating situations into an art form. “You know better than to listen to what the gossips in this town say.”
“Of course I do. That’s why I’m asking you.”
I took my plate to the living room and sat in an armchair. “Why do you care?”
“Call it motherly curiosity. You’re not exactly forthcoming about what’s going on in your life. Whether or not there really was drama at the Timberbeast, it makes me wonder if you were out with a girl.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Then what happened?”
I let out a breath. “Her ex-boyfriend showed up and wouldn’t leave her alone.”
