by Knupp, Amy
“What was Lindsey doing here?” he asked as he draped his jacket over the back of a chair.
Gram, who had just set a plate of burgers on the table, studied him as if she thought he knew more than he let on. The woman was way too with it for anyone’s good. Lindsey was so far off base, it was almost laughable.
“She bringed me some cookies!” Owen said.
Zach looked to his grandma for confirmation. What was she doing bringing cookies? Several distinct possibilities flooded his mind. Bribing Owen to be her friend, maybe give her the inside scoop over here. Getting inside the house to do her own twisted research. Doing the exact opposite of what Zach had warned her to do, to spite him. Or, okay, maybe she was just being nice.
“They’re good cookies,” Gram said.
“What, are you two friends now?”
His grandma laughed. “You know me better than that. But I do know cookies. Can’t beat Sullivan’s.”
“Grandma said we could have another one after dinner.”
“Let’s get to it, then.”
Dinner talk centered around safe topics, such as Owen’s school day and what he’d built with Lego toys that afternoon. Once the plates were cleared, Owen gobbled up a cookie in record time, then Grandma sent him upstairs to get his pajamas on.
“Any luck finding that brother of yours today?” she asked after Owen had noisily clomped up the stairs.
Zach shook his head. “Not really.” He munched on a pickle. “Stopped into a bar over in Ellington. The Rat’s Nest. Seedy-looking place off behind the main drag. Talked to the manager there and he knows Josh. Said he’d been in recently for a drink.”
“How recently?”
“He claims to not remember. Don’t know if he’s leveling with me or not. Anyway, I aim to check back there often.”
“I hope he’s okay.”
“He might take some stupid risks, but he can take care of himself.”
“He can do so much more than people give him credit for. They all wrote him off after the accident.”
“Not totally without reason. Josh doesn’t give himself enough credit half the time,” Zach said as he took his plate to the counter, annoyed that Lindsey popped into his mind again. For years now, ever since he’d come upon the accident scene, the image of Lindsey’s anguish had been burned into his mind. Yesterday at the diner she’d shown him a flash of that same pain—when he’d brought up Josh. He wished he could erase it for her.
Gram dipped her last bite of burger in the ketchup on her plate. “If you could get him back here at home... Being a daddy could change everything for him.”
From his place at the counter, Zach watched her take her last few bites of dinner. “Do you really believe that, Gram?” he finally asked.
She didn’t blink an eye. “I do. Joshua has it in him. We just need to pull it out of him.”
Zach nodded firmly once, glad to hear they were in agreement. There were moments he doubted his crusade to get Josh home, times when he wondered if he was crazy for thinking there was hope. But if Gram believed it, too, then they could help Josh work through his problems.
“The sooner we can start, the better. My boss called when I got back into Lone Oak today.” Zach put the stopper in the sink and squeezed some dish soap under the running water.
“How did your meeting last night turn out, anyway?”
“Not good. The commission didn’t go for the zone changes. Three of them didn’t like our plan.”
She walked to the counter and took charge of the dishes. “Now what?”
“Now we redraw the plans, change some of the stuff they objected to, try to keep the integral parts of what we want to create. Wouldn’t be a huge deal if I was there to work on it. Chuck called to say he’s having Adam French help.”
“What’s wrong with Adam French?”
“He’s young, stupid and doesn’t care about the company.”
“So why’s Chuck having him help?”
“So I can take care of business here, I imagine.”
“Zachary, you need to get back to Wichita and do your job. We can handle things just fine here.”
He shook his head. “I need to get Josh home and get him on the right track first.”
Keeping Lindsey out of Gram’s hair was as big a part of his motivation as any, but he couldn’t mention that.
“Well, for now, why don’t you go up and—”
“I know, I know. Go see if Owen’s getting ready for bed.” He dried his hands and headed for the stairs. “I’ve got to get Josh back here just so you have someone else to boss around.”
Gram’s rough chuckle followed him up the stairs.
* * *
WHEN LINDSEY WALKED INTO her dad’s kitchen, she was accosted by the to-die-for aroma of freshly baked coffee cake. Her dad and Mrs. Hale sat at the table, engrossed in a game of Scrabble.
“Mrs. Hale, you’re spoiling him.”
“Would you like some cake, dear? It’s heart-healthy.”
“I’ll try some anyway. Hi, Dad.”
He grunted as he set down his tiles to form a long word. “Don’t talk to me when I’m concentrating. I aim to win this game.”
“You’re sixty-two points ahead, Wendell. I think it’s in the bag,” Mrs. Hale said as she cut a slice of cake.
“It’s not over till it’s over.”
“I thought you hated playing Scrabble with him,” Lindsey said.
“He was threatening to go in to work. It was the only way I could keep him home.”
“Dad. You’re not supposed to work yet. You’re not supposed to drive, either. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I’m going loony sitting around this house all the time. I was only going to look at the stories Mary’s got lined up for tomorrow’s paper.”
“Uh-uh. You’d find something to edit. Or rewrite. Knowing you, you’d go out and track down the source and start from scratch on something. Not allowed.”
He sighed. “What would I do without you two lovely ladies to run my life?”
“Have another heart attack, likely,” Mrs. Hale stated matter-of-factly. She set a plate of cake and a glass of tea in front of Lindsey, then sat down to peruse her tiles.
“Killjoy.” Her dad was actually a teddy bear under the layers of grump.
Before Mrs. Hale could form a word, the phone rang. Wendell picked up the cordless on top of a folded newspaper beside him.
“Hello.” He listened for a moment, then handed the phone to Mrs. Hale.
She answered as she stood, and Lindsey caught the frown before the older woman took the phone to the living room for privacy.
“I’ll fill in for her,” Lindsey said, switching to the vacant chair.
“You think you can win for her, huh?”
“You got it.”
She and her dad had always been cutthroat competitive at board games. They’d spent hours trash-talking over Scrabble and Trivial Pursuit when Lindsey had still lived at home.
She stared at the letters for a couple of minutes, then rearranged them. Her dad had left the triple word open, and she was going to capitalize on it. Somehow.
“I’m sorry I got so upset the other day, honey.”
She looked at him. “No need to apologize. I’m sorry you found Zach here.”
“I keep reminding myself you’re just doing what you think is right.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry that hurts you.”
Lindsey’s heart pounded guiltily. Had he seen her at the Rundles before she’d come over tonight? No, he’d been here at the table, engrossed in his match with Mrs. Hale. Maybe someone had ratted on her for sitting with Zach at Tut’s.
“The boy is so innocent, Dad. I hate to think of him suffering in any way.”
“Why can’t they handle this boy on their own?”
“Because they’re Rundles?” She smiled, relieved when her dad grinned. But at the same time, she felt like a traitor because she really liked Owen. Okay, maybe Zach, too. Against her better judgment.
She took his silence to mean the discussion was over and went back to her tiles.
Then she spotted it. Some quick calculations in her head had her grinning smugly. “Z-y-m-o-s-i-s.” She named the letters as she laid them in place, something she’d always done when scoring big. It never failed to make her dad crazy.
“That’s not a real word.”
“You challenging me?”
“Yes I am. Go get the dictionary.”
She laughed as she jogged upstairs to Savannah’s old room. The light in the hallway was on and was bright enough for her to see the bookcase on the opposite wall, so she didn’t bother to turn on the bedroom light. After she picked out the dictionary, the adjacent bedroom in the Rundle house caught her eye.
Zach was carrying Owen over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, horsing around. Lindsey moved closer to the window, surprised at his playfulness.
Zach pretended to throw the boy into bed and then the light in Owen’s room went off. Lindsey was about to step away from the glass, when Zach’s face appeared right in front of Owen’s window. He stared straight at her in the darkness before pulling down the shade.
Oh, great. She wouldn’t hear the end of this. Groaning, she hurried back downstairs with the dictionary.
Mrs. Hale was back at the table, tears in her eyes.
“What’s going on?” Lindsey asked, setting the book aside, open to the page with her word on it.
“My sister, Ann, fell this afternoon. Broke her hip. She’s going to have surgery tomorrow to replace it.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. How’s she doing?”
“Pretty upset. Scared. But we’ll get her through it. I told her I’d fly out and stay with her through the recovery.” Mrs. Hale blew her nose. “I just hate to leave your dad by himself.”
The look Mrs. Hale exchanged with her dad caught Lindsey by surprise. It went deep. Deeper than employer and employee, maybe even deeper than friends. The possibility that they might share more than she’d ever guessed stunned Lindsey.
“I’ll be just fine, Claudia. I’m an adult.”
“A stubborn, rule-breaking adult. I’ll stay with him while you’re gone,” Lindsey said without hesitating. She absently jabbed her fork at her coffee cake.
“That’d certainly ease my mind.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Yes, you do.” Mrs. Hale put her hand over Wendell’s. “Lindsey will keep an eye on you.”
“How long will you be gone?” Lindsey asked.
“I don’t know yet. A week or two. At least long enough to see her over the hump.”
“Take however long you need.”
“Thank you, dear.”
Lindsey smiled. “The dessert patrol is here, reporting for duty.”
“Just what I need. Two women ganging up on me,” her dad said, grumpily.
“See, Dad, if you’d behaved yourself and followed the doctor’s orders, you might have gotten some freedom now.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“And by the way, zymosis. Right there.” She held the dictionary out to him, pointing. “That’s seventy-eight points, plus fifty for using all my tiles.”
Her dad stared at her. Lindsey couldn’t help cackling in victory as she stood to clear the dishes from the table. “Mrs. Hale, you take it from here.”
Three hours later, Lindsey left her dad’s and got into her car.
As soon as she cleared the house, a figure emerged from the shadows, causing her to slam on the brakes in surprise. Her heart was in her throat until she recognized the face outside her window as Zach’s. She barely avoided the second Salinger heart attack in as many weeks.
Lindsey hit the power window button and lowered the glass halfway. “What are you doing?”
“Hey,” Zach said nonchalantly. “You’re out late tonight. Might as well move in with your old man.”
She looked tired—her hair a mess, eyes hollow-looking in the dim light—but she looked as beautiful as he’d ever seen her.
“Funny you should mention it. I’m staying with him starting tomorrow.”
“What? Is his health getting worse?” He wasn’t sure how he felt about having her so close. Too much temptation.
“Just his attitude. The housekeeper has to go out of town.”
“Guess that’ll give you some extra time to spy,” he said with a half grin. “You’re getting sloppy with your undercover work, Salinger.”
Instead of getting worked up like he expected her to, she smiled slowly. “Just can’t keep myself from watching those troublemaker Rundles.”
“Maybe I like knowing you’re watching me.”
His words got to her—he could tell when she wouldn’t look directly at him.
“What are you doing here, anyway? If my dad sees you out here...”
“Hold on,” he said, then jogged around the front of the car. As he opened the passenger door and climbed in, he noticed her checking the windows of the house nervously. Zach tried to ignore it. “I took my grandma to see Dr. Fletcher today.”
Still glancing at the windows, Lindsey backed out of the driveway. “And?”
“Where are you taking me?” Zach asked, his voice lower, huskier than usual.
“Don’t get too excited.” She pulled a few feet down the street, then turned into the Rundle driveway. “So, anyway. Grandma. Doctor. What happened?”
“She’s one-hundred-percent fine.”
“Did they run tests?” Her tone conveyed skepticism.
“Stress test, EKG, bunch of others. She’s a normal eighty-year-old woman.”
“That’s debatable. What about mental tests? Or memory?”
“Don’t think so. I guess the doctor didn’t feel they were necessary.”
“And you came over here to tell me this because...?”
“To put your mind at ease. I know how worried about my grandma you are.”
“Cut the sarcasm. I’m worried about Owen. So you think everything’s fine then, huh?”
“I do.”
“You still think she can keep up with a five-year-old?”
“As much as any of us can.”
“What about long term, Zach? What happens when Grandma’s eighty-five, ninety? Have you thought that far?”
“Josh will be back long before then.”
When, exactly, Zach wasn’t sure. Two full days of searching hadn’t produced results. He was proving tougher to find than Zach had anticipated.
He reclined his seat a few inches and hooked his hands behind his head. When Lindsey didn’t say a word, he glanced at her. She looked at him like he had a screw loose.
He didn’t care what she thought. She didn’t even know Josh.
She shook her head slowly.
“What?”
“You’re living in some kind of alternate reality. Grandma has no problems. Josh will sober up and be a competent parent. Not a care in the world, right?”
“Look, I understand why you hate Josh so much. What I don’t get is why you hate me.”
Again, she wouldn’t look at him. Didn’t say a word, for once.
“Did you know that I came to your house to see you the night of your mom’s funeral?”
Instant eye contact. There was no doubt she hadn’t known. Not a big surprise.
“Your dad wouldn’t let me in. Wouldn’t even let you come to the door.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “Why’d you do that?”<
br />
Good question. Better yet, why was he telling her now, when it couldn’t matter less? And why did he have the most compelling urge to touch the smooth skin of her face, to reach across the small space between them and run his fingers along that jaw, which was normally so strongly set but which now seemed somehow fragile? She didn’t want to be with him. He needed to stop thinking about her.
“Never mind.” Gritting his teeth, he opened the door and got out, then leaned in. “Owen will be fine. Stop worrying about him.”
“You know, there is an easy answer.”
He waited, warily, for her cure-all.
“You could adopt Owen yourself.”
“That’s the worst idea I’ve heard in ages.”
Lindsey shrugged. “You might want to move out of the way,” she said. “I’m backing out now.”
“Goodnight to you, too, sweetheart.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
ELSA RUNDLE CLOSED HER bedroom door and leaned against it, breathing harder than she should be after just going up a flight of stairs. Fear did that to a person—stole the breath right out of you.
It’d happened again. She’d just wandered through the entire house trying to remember what it was she needed to do. There was something, she knew. But she sure couldn’t recall what.
Some days she knew something was wrong with her. Other days she just figured she was old and getting forgetful.
Forgetting scared the tar out of her. Please don’t let me lose my mind.
Nausea overcame her, and she shuffled to her bed. She lay down on her side on top of the bedspread, squeezing her eyes shut. She still had no earthly idea what was so important that she had to do this morning.
Putting her hand to her chest, she could feel her heart thumping like a ground squirrel that had spotted a hawk.
Getting old was a daily wallop up the side of the head, but she wasn’t ready to surrender to it yet. She still had plenty of fight left.
Feeling braver, she sat up on the edge of the bed, half expecting dizziness or the unsettling feeling of not quite remembering something. But there was nothing, just her familiar bedroom, with the antique dresser on the...
That was it. The stack of bills on the dresser. She was supposed to mail the things this morning. She’d drifted all over the house in a fog. What in the world was wrong with her?