Every Little Kiss (Sequoia Lake Book 2)

by Marina Adair

  “Now, get to it, Superboy,” he said, using the name he’d called him that night, because silent or not, that kid had gone through an ordeal that most adults couldn’t have survived.

  With a breath big enough for Superman, Paxton stuck out his fist with force, pausing only to look over his shoulder at Ford, who pretended to be busy, making important notes in his pad.

  Confident that he wasn’t being watched, Paxton squared his shoulders. Ford did his best to give Paxton the room he needed, and that’s when he heard it. A soft but fearless “Rocks.”

  It came out more walks than rocks, but Ford didn’t care. Bullseye obeyed his command, and Superboy had overcome two pretty large obstacles today. His desire to find a connection was stronger than his fear of disappointing someone.

  “Good job,” Ford said, cool and confident as if he had no doubt in Paxton’s skills, when inside he was shaking with relief. “Now go with Bullseye, and when you give the note to Ballerina Girl, let go of his leash and I’ll call Bullseye back, but you need to stay there and keep an eye on Ballerina Girl until camp is over.”

  And wouldn’t you know it, Paxton raised his hand like a salute, and then with the leash in his grasp, he raced off. Ford watched after him, his little shoes blinking as they got smaller and smaller, and the emotion in Ford’s chest grew larger and larger until swallowing became impossible.

  Because that little guy had managed to do the one thing Ford couldn’t—accept that he needed connection.

  The sun was actually still shining when Liv pulled into her driveway. Because of a last-minute schedule change, she was able to get out of work two hours early—and make it home in time for family dinner.

  Grabbing the pizza from the passenger seat, she walked around to the front porch. Paxton was sitting on the top step, wiggling with energy, as if he had to use the boys’ room. He wore red tights, a blue shirt, and a cape tied around his neck.

  “Mommy! You’re home!” he said, full of excitement and animation. “I was waiting for you.”

  “I can see that,” she said right as Paxton charged down the front steps and into her arms, clinging to her legs like a sloth. She bent down and gave him a big squeeze, holding him close so she could breathe him in. Only he was too excited to endure the hug, and he was already wiggling out of her arms. “Did Grandma tell you I was coming home?”

  “Uh-huh. She also told me you were bringing pizza.”

  “And cupcakes. Where is she?”

  “Talking to her friend.” Liv hoped he was on the phone and not in her front room. “I came out here to show you this.” He shoved a folded piece of paper in her face, but before she could read it he was walking in circles around her. “It’s a secret message from headquarters. I got to deliver it to Ballerina Girl—that’s Emma’s superhero name—during camp.”

  “You did?” she asked, her heart melting. Today marked the first day he’d come home from camp happy. Maybe Ford was right and all he needed was time.

  “Yup. She had to give rocks to get it. That was the rules. And she did it. In front of everyone. Then she showed me some cool moves.”

  Paxton did some kind of disco move, and Liv bit back her smile.

  “That is cool. But what is ‘rocks’?” Liv asked, knowing she was going to owe Harris big-time. She didn’t know what he’d said to Emma, but she’d never seen Paxton so excited about playing with a kid. Not even Tommy, the little boy who sometimes came over to trade comic books.

  “Like this.” Paxton punched the air like he was some kind of ninja. “Now bump my fist when I say so.” He looked at her. “Rocks . . . That means go, Mommy.”

  “Oh, okay. Rocks.” Liv bumped fists, and Paxton fell back on the grass as if the explosion was too much to be contained. Kind of like the joy pumping through her chest.

  “Then everyone was like, ‘Cool, do it again,’ so we did. Like a hundred times again, and then Captain Jason called us in for a power chat.” He jumped up, fist-pumped the air, and held the pose before continuing. “And he tolded us our Super Assignment. And guess what it is? Guess—you won’t guess it right.”

  Liv gave her best perplexed look. “You all have to make your own superhero pose?”

  Paxton rolled his eyes. “Poses are for babies. Us big kids get to come up with a secret handshake for the last day of camp. Captain Jason said it should show our superpowers, so we all have to have one, but no one can have the same one. And no one will have mine.”

  Liv agreed. Her kid had more superpowers than DC and Marvel put together. He might be shy and slow to warm up, but he had more heart than anyone she knew.

  “What does yours look like?” Liv asked, heading Paxton up the stairs and inside the house.

  “It’s a secret,” Paxton said in the same God, Mom tone he’d used when she’d asked who was stronger, Superman or Batman. “But me and Superdog are going to practice it a million times. It will be even cooler than rocks.”

  “I bet it will.” Liv set the pizza on the counter and poured Paxton a glass of juice. He crawled up onto a stool and took a big gulp. “So every kid teaches it to the whole camp?”

  “Yup.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Just like me and Bullseye did today.”

  Liv froze. “Bullseye was at camp?”

  “Yup, I was waiting for Grandma, and he found me. I thought he wanted Superdog to chew on, but then Ford told me they had to get a secret message to Ballerina Girl, and he needed me to deliver it. But first I had to learn the secret handshake and then do it with him in front of the whole camp. And look.” Paxton yanked at the cape, flipping it around to the front and pointing to the huge patch safety-pinned to the center.

  “Super Star,” Liv read, her heart rolling over.

  “Every day one kid gets to be the Super Star, and today it was me, so I get to wear this until tomorrow, and then somebody else gets to be Super Star.”

  Liv had been wrong. Her son didn’t need to be around people. He needed to be around the right people. And today that person had been Ford.

  Let today be enough, Liv told herself. It didn’t matter that Ford was kind and thoughtful and made her legs turn to mush. When the season ended, so would his time in Sequoia Lake, and he’d be gone, off helping another family.

  Carolyn walked into the kitchen with a stern brow raised in Paxton’s direction. “Which is why we should take the cape off and hang it up.”

  Paxton shut down faster than a ski lift in a blizzard. And the kitchen turned equally as frosty.

  “I don’t see why you can’t wear it,” Liv said encouragingly, but Paxton was sipping his juice. Well, the glass was to his lips, but he was just breathing into the cup and watching the glass fog up.

  “At least take it off at the table so you don’t get food on it,” Carolyn said, walking to the cupboard to get three plates, then setting them around the table.

  “Sweetie, why don’t you grab a slice of pizza and take it the front room while Grandma and I talk.”

  Paxton didn’t wait for Carolyn to weigh in on the decision, just grabbed a slice and ran as fast as his blinking shoes could carry him.

  “He’s never going to talk if you don’t encourage family dinners,” Carolyn said, moving the pizza box to the table.

  “He was just talking.” Like a happy, normal kid who’d had a great day at camp.

  “Well, he hasn’t spoken a word to me,” Carolyn said primly, taking a seat at the table and spreading her napkin across her lap. Great. Apparently they were going to sit for this discussion.

  “He just has to get used to you.” Liv sat down. “The more you’re around, the more he’ll open up.”

  “I’ve been here for three weeks, and he’s said more to that stuffed dog than he has me.”

  “He doesn’t feel judged or anxious when he talks to his toys,” Liv explained.

  Her mouth tightened. “Are you saying it’s my fault?”

  “No,” Liv said, resting a hand on Carolyn’s, and she realized the older woman was
trembling. “This is nobody’s fault—it just is. But the more time you spend together, the more comfortable he’ll feel around you, the more relaxed he’ll become, and then he’ll start talking.”

  Reason number one why Liv had asked her in-laws not to move across the country. She’d moved here so Paxton could have a stable group of people in his world, but Carolyn needed space from the loss. And Liv got that, but space created distance, and distance didn’t allow for the relationship to bloom.

  “I can’t even count the times I’ve offered to bring him to Palm Beach to spend the holidays or the summer with me,” Carolyn said, placing a slice on each of their plates. “It’s like you don’t want me to get to know him.”

  Liv closed her eyes and counted to ten. When that didn’t help, she got up and poured herself a glass of wine. After a fortifying sip, she grabbed another glass—and the bottle—and brought the bottle to the table.

  “I want you to know him, more than anything,” Liv said, pouring her mother-in-law a glass of wine, because they were both going to need it to get through this conversation. She waited for Carolyn to take a sip before adding, “But you need to want to get to know him for who he is right now, with all of his quirks and uniqueness, and that means meeting him on his terms. And with you coming here for a few weeks at a time, it might take a while.”

  “You make it sound as if I’m not trying,” Carolyn said dramatically. “If Sam were here, he would be horrified by these terms.”

  It was like an arrow sliced through her chest, creating a wound that would never quite heal. One more to add to the collection.

  Liv set her glass down and focused on keeping it together. Yelling wouldn’t help, and she was past crying. Sadly, she was just tired. The kind of soul-deep tired people got when they’d taken so many beatings they couldn’t remember where the last one ended and the new one began.

  “Sam isn’t here,” Liv said steadily. “And these terms aren’t here to hurt you—they are here to help Paxton overcome his loss, adapt to his new reality. And I know we have all had to adapt to a world without Sam, but when it comes to Paxton, his journey had to come first.”

  Carolyn’s face puckered as if she’d eaten a lemon, but Liv knew the taste in her mouth wasn’t bitter—it was pain. And Liv wished she knew how to make the melding of this family easier, but she meant what she said. Paxton came first.

  Always.

  Carolyn carefully folded her napkin and placed it on the table, taking the time to smooth over the seams. “Maybe if you had put Paxton first, Sam wouldn’t have come home alone that Christmas.” Carolyn looked up, tears pooling in her eyes. “And maybe we wouldn’t all be in this situation.”

  CHAPTER 13

  “How is this my fault?” Ford asked, because there was no way his friend could be serious.

  “You asked for volunteers who had the interest and the time,” Harris said with a shit-eating grin. “So I found you volunteers who have all the time and interest you could hope for.”

  “But can they walk without a cane?” Ford grumbled.

  “I don’t know, let’s ask. Ladies,” Harris said, addressing the group of ten, who came in all shapes and sizes. The only thing they had in common, besides dogs, was a senior discount card for the Bunny Slope Supermarket. “How many of you can walk without canes?”

  Every hand went up, except Mavis, who had no dog, but she did have a wheelchair that could do zero to speed-of-light in point four seconds.

  “See.” Harris clapped Ford on the back. “Now, get to teaching, Officer Doolittle. I approved that permit, so you have two weeks to train four of these teams so they can handle some basic crowd control.”

  Harris disappeared back inside the station, leaving Ford in the back lot, standing in front of his first volunteer search-and-rescue training class, which consisted of a handful of Sequoia Lake citizens on his personal top-ten list of Most Likely to Get Lost While Shopping.

  He spotted Dorothy Pines in the front of the class with Bubbles. Dorothy was holding a leash so bright it almost distracted from the sports bra she was trying to pass off as a top, and Bubbles was dressed in an orange construction vest. Right beside them were Patty and LuLu Moberly, dressed in matching jogging gear.

  Kill him now.

  Leading Bullseye to the front of the group, Ford began. “Why don’t we start by sharing a little about ourselves. My name is Officer Jamison. This is my partner, Bullseye, and he is a scenting dog, which means he can detect and follow human scents. We’ve been partners for six years, and I’ve been a part of search and rescue for eight years.”

  Bullseye, knowing the drill, sat tall and proud as if he were waiting for someone to pin a silver star on his chest.

  “Ms. Pines, you want to go?”

  “My name is Dorothy Pines, and this is Bubbles. She lives a vegan lifestyle, believes in pet equality, and likes long walks on the beach. Oh, and she is working hard to overcome her fear of small, enclosed places. Like air vents.” She shot a glare at Patty. “And we signed up as a way to give back to the community that has given us so much, and because when we heard that the personal-statement part of Wagon Days Darling was canceled, we thought we could up our tricks for the talent section.”

  Ford gripped the back of his neck. “Ms. Moberly, are you here to increase LuLu’s chances for being the Wagon Days Darling?”

  “Heavens no.” Patty clutched her chest as if horrified by the idea. “LuLu and I are here because we heard Dorothy was trying to get face time with the judge. So we put on our best hiking gear and signed right on up.”

  “It’s called being a responsible citizen,” Dorothy argued.

  “It’s called being a brownnoser.”

  “All right,” Ford said, loudly enough to silence the crowd. “Is anyone here for something unrelated to Wagon Days Darling?”

  One hand went up, and Bullseye let out a whine and lay on the ground. Ford was ready to call it a day as well. “Mavis?”

  “I’m here because I’m in the market for my own partner, and I heard you were some kind of whisperer.”

  Okay, not what today was about, but at least she’d come with the idea of dog training as the focus. “You mean a dog whisperer?”

  Mavis grinned. “No, son. I heard you were a panty whisperer.” Patty started snickering.

  And so went his first day of search-and-rescue training.

  He instructed them on how to walk a dog on a lead, and he lost two candidates when he explained that dog strollers weren’t allowed in searches. They’d covered the different types of search dogs and gear, and they quickly moved on to the basics of sit and stay—which to his surprise most of the dogs already knew.

  In fact, the dogs were well socialized and trained. It was the owners who needed some training. So when Ford spoke about the importance of leash rules and Patty announced that Dorothy was leash-aggressive and should be disqualified, Ford put them in a time-out.

  It wasn’t until Ford addressed their main job for Wagon Days—wandering kids and crowd flow—that something clicked.

  “I don’t know, that sounds a lot like my house when the grandboys come over,” Prudence Tuttman, a retired mill worker turned senior pro bass fisherman, said. “Which is why I installed a trampoline in the yard. First sign of trouble and, pow, I put them in the trampoline and let them jump it out.”

  “Last Christmas, we got the grandkids one of those bounce houses,” Patty said. “It’s like our own personal MMA fighting cage. Thirty minutes in there and they’re too tired to argue.”

  “I live in the over-fifty-five community, so we don’t have yards,” another said. “My girls get fussy and I get them busy—baking cakes for the church raffle.”

  Several of the ladies voiced their agreement, and Ford felt himself start to smile.

  Maybe he’d been looking at this all wrong. He didn’t need terrain-ready volunteers. What he needed was added presence for a family-friendly event. Crowd control sounded intense, but in reality it could be as simple
as directing people to the medic booth or blocking off streets. Harris had deputies assigned to specific places on Lake Street to beef up their presence and help with traffic flow.

  There wasn’t a person in town who would take on these biddies. In fact, doggy-toting grandmas in orange vests would be as approachable as the Easter Bunny, even for the most timid of lost kids. And they’d be as strict as prison wardens when needed, to keep any potential troublemakers in line. Ford looked at his team and did the math—between them there was at least two hundred years of town history. He’d bet there wasn’t a resident they didn’t know—or hadn’t pointed one of their bony fingers at.

  “You came here to teach your dog tricks, up your scores for the Wagon Days Darling. I came here to train a volunteer team,” Ford said, gaining everyone’s attention. “So here’s my offer. I’ll teach you guys some tricks that will wow the panel, but that means I have to recuse myself from judging the talent portion.”

  A roar of grumbles came from the crowd.

  “Hold on, I’m not done. I will still do the final judging, just not the talent portion, but we can have our own helicopter-flying hero, Officer Donovan, step in.”

  “He may not have this one’s backside, but those arms of his are nice to look at,” Mavis offered.

  “It is two for the price of one,” Prudence added.

  Not sure how to respond to that, Ford went on. “In return, you become my volunteer team, helping the department the day of the event. You won’t handle disputes—you’d just be there to keep things moving smoothly, assist people with questions. And every one of your dogs would be singled out for their service.”

  It was like watching a time-out at a football game. Without warning, the ladies huddled in a circle, and an intense conversation comprised of tuts, bickering, and a few inappropriate hand gestures took place. After a few moments of deliberation, Mavis popped her head out. “Do we get to carry?”

  “Your dogs?” he asked, hoping to God they weren’t talking about a weapon.

  “No, a gun.”

  Ford was shaking his head even before she finished asking. “No. Absolutely not.”