“What do you say?” Candace reminded him.
“Thanks.”
Brooke said again, “Thank you, Heath,” but there was far more feeling to it this time. She held a boogie board, but not just any boogie board. This one was sized for a slight teenage girl. It had pink and purple swirls that sparkled in the sunlight. “You know,” she added, “I bet my daddy would have bought me something like this if he were still alive.”
Candace froze, her heart sinking. She thought Brooke had accepted Heath's presence in their lives, but she must have been wrong.
Then Brooke ran to Heath, threw her arms around his waist, and hugged him hard. “I’m sure he's really happy up in heaven now that he knows you’re taking care of us.”
Over the top of her head, Heath's gaze met Candace's, and she could see him as he swallowed hard. She blinked, tears stinging her eyes.
“I hope so,” he said gently. “I’ll teach you how to use that, okay?” He glanced over her head again, back in control. “So whatcha got there, Mom?”
She smiled. “Guess I’d better find out.”
“Oh, presents.” Janet descended the steps. “Looks like you guys are going to have a great time.”
“We are,” shouted Howie. He sprinted around the car in excitement, and everyone laughed.
Candace finally got the small silver box open. Inside, beneath layers of tissue, rested a small gold starfish on a golden chain. “Oh, it's beautiful,” she said.
Heath stepped up behind her, as she removed it from the box, and fastened it around her neck. “Something to commemorate our first vacation together.” Then he reached back into the car. “And look—here's one for Grammy.” He handed yet another package to Brooke, who carried it to her grandmother.
“What's this?” Janet looked mystified. She tore open the paper to reveal the latest best seller. “Oh, I’ve been wanting to read this. Thank you, Heath.” She rushed over and kissed his cheek and then hugged the book to herself. “Now take them all away, so I can go read.”
Everyone laughed. After a round of hugs and farewells, Heath, Candace, and the kids piled into the car while Janet stood on the porch, waving and smiling as they pulled away.
It was a long drive, but thankfully Howie fell asleep for several hours. When they arrived at the lodge, it was midafternoon. They checked into their rooms right across the hall from each other and then took a walk on the beach.
After a late lunch at a delightful little mom-and-pop burger joint, they strolled around downtown Grand Haven. It was a pleasant little beach town with plenty of shopping and activities for tourists. Right now it was crowded with throngs of sunburned vacationers, but Candace thought it would be utterly lovely to live there in the fall, winter, and spring.
“Mom, Mom.” Howie was tugging on her hand. “Can we go in that store?”
That store was a children's toy store with a fascinating display of a building set in the window.
“Oh no,” Brooke grumbled. “Do we have to?”
“No,” Heath said, “we don’t. We can walk back to that little park where they were selling the ice cream, and when Mom and Howie are done, they can meet us there.”
“Sounds like a good plan.” Candace smiled at Brooke. “Don't eat all the ice cream without me.”
Howie loved the building set and everything else in the store, until he realized she meant business when she said she was not buying him a toy that evening. Then he sulkily followed her back to the park, where she glimpsed the backs of Heath's and Brooke's heads, as they sat on a bench licking at ice cream cones.
As she approached, she heard Brooke say, “But what if I forget Daddy?”
Heath put an arm around her. “You’ll never forget him, Brooke. He'll always stay in your heart. And I’ll help you remember him in other ways, if you like.”
“Like how?” She regarded him soberly.
“Like when we go to baseball games. You know he loved baseball, and you’ll always think of that when we go to a game. Or when you look at the pictures your mom has of him.”
“Do you mind seeing pictures of my dad?”
Heath smiled down at her. “No, because if your mom hadn't married your daddy first, I wouldn't be lucky enough to get you and Howie when I marry her.”
If I hadn't already been madly in love with the man, that conversation would have done it, Candace thought as she surreptitiously wiped away a few tears.
Gideon had spent practically all of Saturday talking on the phone, texting, or video chatting with Jenni. He had grudgingly agreed to vacuum the family room and kitchen, but James thought irritably that if Jenni hadn't been at a family reunion in Peoria, Gideon probably would have been at her house all day.
“Hey, buddy.” He stuck his head into Gideon's room. “Nelson and I are going to a movie.” He named an action-suspense flick that he was certain Gideon had never seen. “Want to join us?”
Gideon hesitated. For a moment, he looked torn, but then he said, “No thanks, Dad. I’ll just hang here with Mom.”
“Your mother's in the family room,” James said pointedly.
Gideon flushed. “I know. I’m going out there.”
“Since you’re not going to the movie,” James said, “you can help her get supper. We’ll be back about five thirty.”
Gideon scowled. “I vacuumed. How come Nelson can't get dinner?”
“Nelson and I have plans,” James said. “You were invited. But if you’re just going to be sitting mooning over your girlfriend, you may as well make yourself useful.”
“I’ve got stuff to do,” his son said resentfully.
“Such as?”
Caught in his own falsehood, Gideon crossed his arms and glared at James.
“I’ll tell you one thing you can do,” James said, ignoring the attitude directed at him. “You and Mom can get online and check out some colleges. Do a search for ones that have army ROTC programs, since we’re going to need that scholarship help to pay your tuition.”
“Why do I feel like you’re picking on me?” Gideon burst out.
“I don't know.” James took a deep breath. “I have been trying to engage you in some activity—any activity—that doesn't involve speaking with, seeing, or thinking of Jenni.” When Gideon began to protest, James held up a hand. “We like her, Gideon, we really do. She's a delightful girl. But you’re so wrapped up in her, you’re foregoing chances to do things you enjoy. And,” he added, trying not to sound too stuffy, “neglecting other tasks you should be doing.”
“I am not. I’ve done every single one of my chores.”
“Chores aren't what I’m talking about. Your grades are.”
“I just didn't feel like going to the movies,” Gideon said, changing course as he apparently realized he was going to end up on the wrong side of that discussion. “That's all. It doesn't have anything to do with Jenni.”
“Okay,” James said. “Nelson and I are leaving now, and I would like you to spend some time with your mother this afternoon.” And he left the room quickly, before Gideon could argue any more.
Whoever said, “Knowing when to quit is half the battle,” was one smart cookie.
“Way to go, cops.” Elena leaped out of her lawn chair and punched a fist in the air. “Woo-hoo!”
Cesar had just finished playing in a weekend-long softball tournament to benefit his youth center. The final game was Deerford Police Department against Bureau County Firefighters on Sunday afternoon, and the cops had won by a single run.
The teams filed past each other slapping hands, good-naturedly ribbing each other. Elena saw Cesar rub his left shoulder, grimacing as if he was in pain. But by the time she got to him, he seemed fine again, joking with co-workers and slinging the bat bag over his right shoulder to take it to his truck.
“We raised over four thousands dollars,” he told her enthusiastically.
“That's amazing,” she said. “Congratulations.”
He was beaming. “I’ve got a lot of places that mon
ey can go.”
They drove home, and Cesar took a shower while Elena made a chicken-and-stuffing casserole she’d seen in a magazine. She placed it in the oven just as Rafael and Izzy walked in the door from a trip to Bass Lake, where he had taken Izzy for a picnic with a couple of his band mates and their families.
“Hi, guys. How was the lake?”
“Fun.” Izzy threw her arms wide. “We swimmed—swam,” Izzy corrected herself before Elena or Rafael could, “and we got ice cream, and Daddy took me out on the lake in a real boat.”
“A real boat? Wow.” Elena grinned at her son, but she couldn't resist asking, “I presume you wore real life preservers too?”
Rafael nodded. “I wouldn't take her out without one, Mama. I’m not a complete moron.” He sounded grumpier than her teasing question had warranted, and Elena's smile faded.
“Sorry,” she said. “It was a bad joke.”
“And I played in the sand with Joe,” Izzy went on.
“Joe? Who's Joe?” The only Joe Elena could think of was—
“My mommy's friend.” Izzy's eyes widened. “I told Mommy we were going to Bass Lake on Sunday after church, and she said maybe she would see me there, and she did.”
Elena glanced at Rafael, who was looking like a dark thundercloud. “How nice,” she said to Izzy. “That sounds like fun.”
“It was. Buela, can I help you make dinner? I can read the instructions.”
Elena was delighted to hear Izzy volunteer to read. It wasn't long ago that she’d been struggling with reading, but since being diagnosed as farsighted and getting prescription reading glasses, she was far ahead of the suggested schedule on the summer reading list. “Of course, honey. Why don't you change into dry clothes while you’re in your room too?”
“’Kay.” Izzy skipped back the hallway, leaving a tense silence in her wake.
“Sarah was at the lake too?” Elena finally asked. It was obvious Rafael wasn't going to volunteer any information unless she pried it out of him, so she grabbed her mental crowbar and started prying. “And Joe is the same young man she's been seeing?”
Rafael grunted. “Yeah. He's the guy she brought to the Fourth party at the Scotts’.”
“You don't like him? I thought he seemed very nice.” And he had seemed nice, so it wasn't a lie. Although mentioning it was a way to get under her tight-lipped son's skin, so maybe he would confide in her.
Rafael shrugged. “I guess he's nice enough. But why did she have to horn in on my day with Izzy anyway?”
Elena's eyebrows rose. “Oh, I don't know. Maybe the same reason you stopped by the carnival the night she took Izzy there? Possibly because she wanted to share an experience with her daughter just like you did?”
“If she wanted to share the experience, she could have just come with us,” he said.
Elena's eyebrows rose. “Did you invite her?”
“No, but Izzy—”
“If you want to spend time with Sarah,” she said, “don't use Izzy as an excuse. Just ask her.” As she looked at her frustrated son, she had to smile. “I think Sarah would rather spend time with you than Joe,” she said softly.
“I’m not the issue here. Isabel is,” he said sharply.
Elena quirked an eyebrow. “It doesn't look like it from where I’m standing.”
His grunt told her what he thought of that statement, but she was satisfied. Perhaps her words would get him to think about what he really wanted from his life. She wasn't certain that he wanted Sarah, but it sure looked like it, and nothing would please her more.
Izzy skipped back into the kitchen then, wearing clean clothes, glasses case in hand. Elena smiled, then did a double take. Is this really happening again? She was shocked at how wily her granddaughter could be. “Isabel Anastasia Rodriguez. What are you wearing?”
Izzy froze, a guilty look written all over her face. “My pink shorts,” she said, clearly trying to sound matter-of-fact.
“Your old pink shorts,” Elena said. “Where did you get those?”
There was a long pause. Finally, after searching in vain for a good answer, she said, “In my room.”
This time, the silence was Elena's. Never before had Izzy flat-out lied to her. Finally, she rose. “Go to your room until dinner. You won't be able to cook with me because you just told me a lie.”
Izzy began to cry. “I’m sorry, Buela. I’ll put the shorts back in the box. I wanna cook.”
Rafael put a hand on his daughter's shoulder and turned her toward the bedroom. “Not tonight, mi bonita. You lied to Buela. You need to listen to her now and go to your room.”
Isabel started back the hallway, crying as if her little heart had been crushed. And maybe it had. Elena rarely had to really punish the child.
She sighed. “I wish I’d never seen those stupid pink shorts.”
Rafael smiled sympathetically. “Me too.” He plucked at the damp shirt he wore. “I’m going to grab a shower before dinner.”
Alone again, she set the table and put some ears of corn in a pot to boil. As she was filling glasses with iced tea for the adults and milk for Izzy, Cesar came into the kitchen. His face was pale, and he was rubbing his left shoulder and chest.
“What's wrong?” she asked, calling for Rafael, as concern streaked through her.
“Papa?” Rafael hurried into the kitchen, rubbing his thick dark hair with a towel. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Cesar said, lowering himself into a chair.
“No, he's not.” Elena pointed at her husband, noting the way he clutched at his shoulder. “Does he look okay to you?”
“Not so much,” Rafael said.
“Why are you rubbing that shoulder?” Elena asked her husband.
Cesar shrugged. “It hurts. I probably just strained it playing ball today.”
“You throw right-handed. You bat right-handed. How would you have hurt your left shoulder?” Elena demanded.
“I don't know. Would you get me some painkiller, please?”
She shook her head, her own heart pounding. “I’d rather take you to the ER.”
“The ER? Do you think he's having a heart attack?” Rafael stared at his father.
“I think anything's possible, especially with his family history.”
“I’m sitting right here,” Cesar reminded them, as they talked about him over his head. “And not going to the hospital.”
“Maybe it is a muscle thing,” Rafael said.
Cesar nodded. “You might be right. I slid into second base today.”
Elena didn't think he was right at all. Her nursing instincts were shrieking at her to take her husband for medical treatment. But he was speaking, breathing, and moving normally, and she knew dynamite couldn't budge Cesar when he didn't want to do something.
“All right,” she finally said. “But if you feel worse, will you promise to tell me, and not try to be a tough guy?”
“I promise.”
“And will you call the doctor tomorrow and ask for a stress test, regardless of whether or not you feel better?”
Cesar made a disgusted sound beneath his breath, but when Elena only continued to stare silently at him, he finally said, “All right, all right. I’ll have a stress test done.”
“Thank you. I’m a little surprised the doctor didn't recommend one, given your history.”
Cesar wouldn't meet her eyes, and she narrowed her own at him. “He did, didn't he?”
As reluctantly as his granddaughter had admitted to a falsehood, Cesar nodded. “The doctor recommended it when I was there the other day, but I didn't think it was necessary.”
Elena glared at him. “And you didn't bother to tell me this because…?”
Cesar glared right back. “Because I knew you’d badger me until I got one done.”
Elena grinned. “You’re right. Isn't it nice that we know each other so well?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
THE MULLEN FAMILY ARRIVED ON THE THIRD DAY of Heath and Candace's vacation.
The first hint that they were there was a small blur of motion streaking past Candace and Brooke where they sat in beach chairs watching Heath and Howie play in the water.
“Howie, Howie, Howie,” the blur shrieked, and Candace realized it was Eason Mullen. Quickly, she waved to Heath to be sure he saw the extra child running into the water.
“Hello,” called a voice from behind her, and she rose to her feet to see Skip, Margie, and the two girls coming through the dunes.
Brooke, predictably, made a beeline for Violet. And equally predictably, Indiana made a beeline for Brooke. Soon, her daughter was playing in the sand with both younger girls. Skip and Margie set up their chairs; and after a few minutes, Heath came out of the water with both little boys.
The boys immediately set to work digging a hole to China, while Heath toweled himself off and sank down in a chair, accepting the drink Candace offered him. They passed a pleasant afternoon together, chatting and relaxing in the sun while the children played, occasionally getting into the water when the heat became too intense.
“Wow,” Margie said, glancing over to where Eason and Howie were digging a hole. Skip had brought a heavy-duty fireplace shovel along, and the industrious little boys had dug down so far that they were only visible from the waist up.
Heath stood up and walked to the side of the pit. “Hey, guys,” Heath called. “That's deep enough.”
“No, it's not,” Howie hollered back. “We’re going to make it so deep you won't be able to see us.”
“Howie,” Heath said, “I’d prefer you didn't dig anymore. Sand holes can be dangerous.”
“Cannot,” Howie scoffed. Eason, smart enough to see the approaching conflict, scrambled out of the hole and raced off.
“You need to get out of the hole now, Howie,” Heath instructed.
“You’re not the boss of me,” Howie said, his lower lip jutting out.
“Yes he is.” Candace could tell from her son's expression that he hadn't seen her walk up. “Heath will be your stepfather soon, and you will listen to both of us when we say yes or no or politely ask you to do something.”
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