It was a bittersweet moment, and I think we were all a little choked up by the time he finished. The part of me that felt like I was abandoning him, tinged my happiness with guilt. I worried about him being alone.
The one person I didn't miss was my mother. I suppose that’s also sad in a way. I hadn’t realized how dark her shadow had been until it was gone. She was back east now, living with a new husband—I think he’d made his money in banking—she’s tried contacting me a few times since that horrible day, but I haven’t returned her calls. And, although Detective Ledesma couldn’t find any evidence linking her or Avery to Daddy’s accident, he had his suspicions.
Fortunately, there was plenty of evidence from Avery’s other crimes to keep him off the streets for a long time. The confession helped as well—turns out he was the one driving the night of Max’s accident. He was taking Max home after slipping something in his drink—thinking the statute of limitations would save him on the hit and run, he’d made a deal not realizing that although the statute for manslaughter had run out, he could still be charged with vehicular homicide.
Was that a car—Holy Smokes! That’s a car lift! Mat laughed as I damn near wiped out racing across the bay to give my new muscle some love, wistfully stroking all that enameled hardness. “Why the sad eyes, babe?”
“I have all these major power tools and no clunker.” I might have whined just a little.
“Well, I was kinda hoping we could work on one together.”
“Uh uh. No way. I’ll fix it up for you, but you’re not touching my tools. We can’t afford the insurance.”
“Baby, I may not be a jack-of-all-trades, but I am master of one. Obviously my earlier tool demonstration left you underwhelmed, so I’ll have to redouble my efforts.” Uh oh. “Sweetness…” Oh shit! Stupid remote control.
To my readers
This is my first title. I intentionally published it DRM free. Please feel free to lend it to your friends. If you’ve read a borrowed copy and liked it, please consider purchasing a copy or leaving a review. As a new indie author I need all the help I can get. I would like to keep my future titles DRM free and I can only do that with your help. Thanks for reading… Candace.
P.S. No one’s perfect. I will endeavor to correct any errors brought to my attention. You can email me at: [email protected]
I started artistically late in life. My parents cautioned me to stay away from art related careers. Instead I should pursue a serious occupation that would lead to a “real job and a stable career,” which I did by becoming a metrologist. When thirty years later, a pesky thing called ethics got in the way of my career (I have them,) I decided to try my hand at writing.
Born in Seattle, Washington, growing up as the daughter of an engineer, it is small wonder that I ended up pursuing a career in the sciences. During my childhood we traveled across the United States as my father moved from one project to the next, finally finishing up in Charlotte, North Carolina.
After working at a series of bars and restaurants earning $1.65/hr + tips, I came to the realization that a girl with only a high school diploma and no skills, no matter how intelligent or hard working, would always be waiting tables. So I enlisted United States Army where met my metrologist husband of thirty years and traveled the world before settling together in southern California to raise our three beautiful children.
My interest in the visual arts was recently revived shortly after my father’s death in 2007 when I inherited his French easel, paints and brushes; none of which had been used since he was a student at the University of Washington during the 1950’s. Since then I’ve been experimenting with various oil painting mediums, themes and techniques. Some of my work can be seen at: http://candacevianna.weebly.com/
The Science of Loving Page 31