by Mara Wells
“Then what? A she shed?” Danielle could picture it—Sherry moving in and rearranging everything, including Danielle’s space. There’d be a couch and a TV in the living room in no time, and then where would the puppies live? Where would she live? “I know Sherry’s behind my eviction notice, but I still have two weeks, so I’d appreciate you backing off the redecorating on her behalf until I actually move my stuff, and my dogs, out.” So much for keeping her anger focused on Sherry. It spilled out of Danielle’s mouth and all over Carrie.
Carrie hugged her notebook to her chest, looking chastised. “She really is worried about you. She said something about you applying to colleges?”
Danielle groaned. “The two of them won’t leave it alone, will they? I told Dad that to get some peace, but I’m too old to start over. What school wants a thirty-three-year-old freshman?”
“Any school would be lucky to have you!” Sydney called from the puppy room, proving how small Danielle’s place really was.
Carrie scooped up a puppy that had escaped into the kitchen and kissed its domed little head. “Community colleges are open access.”
“What does that mean?” Danielle sipped her tea, glad to see Tilly having no trouble with socialization. Carrie’s arms were getting a thorough licking.
Carrie didn’t seem to mind and beamed in delight at Tilly. “It means if you have a high-school diploma or GED, they have to accept you. You could take one class at a time, and you wouldn’t have to move out. It’s a way to ease into college, if you want, and maybe keep your place.”
“Did Sherry send you here to say that?” Danielle eyed Carrie suspiciously over the top of her mug.
Carrie shrugged. “It may have come up in conversation.”
“You can tell them I said I’ll look into it.” Danielle sipped her tea one last time and set it on the counter. “And now I know why I was lucky not to have a little sister.”
“The way our parents are carrying on? You may end up with one anyway.” Carrie set the puppy down, and Tilly scampered back to her littermates. “Be glad I ran interference for you on all the questions about Knox.”
“What?” Danielle hadn’t told her dad anything. But perhaps Knox told Lance who told Carrie who told Sherry who told her dad. Goodness, Miami Beach was a small town sometimes. “Nothing is happening with Knox. We’re not even speaking right now.” She timed her visits to Fur Haven to catch the coffee klatch, but she’d stopped going in the evenings because that was when Knox and Sarge were there. It was better if they didn’t have contact, easier for him to move on. Problem was, her no-contact rule was backfiring. She could feel the deprivation building up, the binge on the horizon. If only he were as easy to get over as a half-gallon carton of ice cream. She was afraid, though, that if she gave in again, she wouldn’t be able to walk away. Not a second time.
Carrie made a hmmming sound and said, “If you say so,” while doodling in her notebook. “Would it be so bad if there were, though? You two seem good together, you know?”
“Danielle!” Sydney’s voice saved Danielle from having to answer and pulled both Danielle and Carrie into the puppy room. Sydney knelt by Flurry’s water bowl. “Is that normal?”
Sweet Pea was facedown in the water, not moving.
“No, definitely not.” Danielle was on it, scooping up the puppy with one hand while she grabbed a spare stethoscope off the cabinet. “Strong heartbeat but not conscious. He must’ve inhaled some water.” She used a finger to gently push on Sweet Pea’s chest. A few drops of water dribbled out of his mouth, and then his chest rose and fell on its own. Danielle’s shoulder slumped from relief.
“What do we do?” Carrie had her phone out, ready to dial.
“Let’s get him to the clinic. He’s already breathing on his own again, but I want him checked out.”
“Let’s go.” Sydney was already scooping up her things. “I’ve got enough material to keep me busy for days.”
“Please lock the door behind you.” Danielle didn’t want to wait for Sydney and Carrie to gather all the bags and pack up the camera. She was already out by the pool when she heard Carrie’s voice call after her.
“Just think. If you were a vet, you could handle this yourself.”
Smart-ass little sisters were definitely the worst. Especially when they weren’t wrong.
Chapter 25
Knox keyed in the code on the new video intercom panel he’d had installed outside the front door of the Dorothy. Security cameras in the common areas and outside the exterior doors would come later in the week, but for now, he enjoyed the satisfaction of a plan coming together. Knox followed the screen prompts and was pleased to see the current list of Dorothy residents scroll by in alphabetical order. He’d been looking for top-of-the-line security systems, of course, but ease of use was also an important factor. Nothing too complicated or time consuming. Pleased, he tried dialing Caleb’s extension.
“What?” Caleb’s voice was clipped and irritable.
“It’s working!” Knox’s glee was disproportionate to the task at hand, but he was pleased. The intercom installation was the first thing that had gone right since Danielle literally slammed the door on him and walked away. His garage-door opener had stopped working, and the repairman talked him into putting in a new system with better sensors. The ice dispenser in the fridge clunked its last, leaving the appliance sitting in a pool of water, and when he’d decided it was better to simply replace the whole thing, the delivery guy had banged a huge gouge in his front door bringing in the new refrigerator. No, homeownership was not agreeing with him, not at all. Each problem seemed to lead to a new problem, and before he knew it, he’d dropped five grand on his so-called investment and hadn’t even started his renovation projects yet. Perhaps his estimate that four months was plenty of time to flip a house was overly optimistic.
“What’s working?” Caleb’s voice was clipped, but Knox didn’t take it personally. He knew Caleb had attended a city council meeting earlier in the day, and he was never in a good mood after those.
“The call box.” The Dorothy’s old security box had been a relic from several decades past, and the residents had gotten in the habit of propping the doors open rather than dealing with the hit-or-miss security box. It made him feel good, keeping people safe. “My work here is nearly done! I’ll be a free man once again.”
Caleb’s guffaw came through the speaker loud and clear. “Keep thinking that, but we both know you’ll find more reasons to stick around. There’s no denying you’re settling in.”
Knox leaned a forearm against the wall, bringing his mouth close to the box. “I am not.”
Caleb’s only response was to laugh harder.
Knox ended the call. The box was good and checked. No need to keep talking on it when Caleb was only a few hundred feet away. Besides, his know-it-all littlest brother was wrong. Sure, following his gut had led to some hasty decisions that looked like settling down, but he wasn’t settled. Not by a long shot. He could walk away anytime.
Knox’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Thinking it was Caleb, he picked up. “What?”
“Gunny!” Morales’ voice lifted Knox’s mood. A move to Atlanta was looking better by the minute. The Dorothy was nearly done—or at least his part in it was. Danielle wanted nothing to do with him. His house was a money pit. His leg seemed to be getting stronger. Maybe the universe was telling him it was time to make a choice. Maybe it was time he said yes to Morales.
“Yes.” Knox interrupted Morales’ detailed report on the state of downtown traffic to give his answer. Take that, Caleb. No settling happening here.
“Yes what?” Morales chuckled, the bastard. He knew exactly what Knox was talking about, but Morales was going to make Knox say it.
“Yes, I’ll come up to Atlanta. That’s why you’re calling, isn’t it?” He’d be letting down Lance, but his mother would be happy. As happy
as she was capable of being anyway.
“Finally!” Morales bellowed into the phone. “I was starting to think you were going to stay down there forever.”
“Naw, my family thing is wrapping up. I should be able to head up after my brother’s wedding.” He should’ve finished out his current round of physical therapy by then, too, and heard back about the tests they’d run on him at the VA. Morales didn’t need to know about all that, not yet anyway. As long as he continued to heal, slow going as it was, he should be able to handle routine security details.
“Good news, Gunny. That’s good news. We could really use a man like you up here. You’ll make the clients feel safe, no doubt about it.”
“That’s the point of a security firm, isn’t it?”
“True that.” Morales filled him in on the setup, told him he’d have his own office. Knox nodded, even though Morales couldn’t see him. It felt familiar, this style of briefing, the knowledge he’d be picking up stakes and moving soon. Familiar was good. He rubbed his thigh above the brace. Familiar was safe.
“So you’re going. Just like that?” Caleb stood in the open door, having clearly been eavesdropping the past few minutes.
Knox was really off his game if he hadn’t heard Caleb walk up behind him. “Not immediately. But once you’ve tied the knot, yeah. Why not?”
Caleb stepped all the way outside, and the door swished shut behind him. “Lance thinks you’re staying on to open the security side of his business. You bought a house.”
“I never promised Lance anything, and I’ve said from the beginning the house was just a side project, an investment.” Knox felt an itch between his shoulder blades that in the field meant he might be in someone’s sights, but here in civilian life, it meant something was off, really off, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.
“You got a dog.” Caleb arched an eyebrow and bounced it for emphasis.
“Sarge will go with me. I’m not abandoning my dog.”
“No, just your family.” Caleb’s blue eyes were icy with accusation. Knox wondered if his own eyes pulled the same trick. It was eerie, sometimes, how looking at Caleb or Lance was like looking in a distorted mirror.
“What family? My mom’s in Atlanta. Dad’s in jail.” He tried to make his eyes icy, but he couldn’t tell if it was working.
Caleb rocked on his heels. “We built this together.” He waved behind him at the Dorothy. “We’re a good team. Don’t you want to stick around and find out what else we can build together?”
“Spoken like a Donovan.”
Caleb’s eyes narrowed. “And like a Donovan, I’ll buy your house and raze it to the ground if you leave. I’ll build a sewage plant over it.”
“No, you won’t. Not so close to your beloved Dorothy.”
“You’re right. Teeny, tiny little apartments then.” Caleb’s gaze challenged him. “How do you like that?”
Knox didn’t like the idea of his house being torn down. It was a money pit, but it was salvageable. What was Carrie always going on about? It had good bones. He couldn’t admit that, though, so he flipped his hand. “I don’t care, as long as you pay market value when you buy it from me.”
“Oh, I’ll get your market value and then some.” Caleb sounded like an actor in a mobster movie. “You won’t believe how much I’ll rent those teeny, tiny apartments for when I’m done with it.”
Knox laughed. “Are you trying to threaten me by telling me you’re going to make a lot of money? I’m not sure you understand how threats work.”
Caleb cracked a smile. “Yeah, I heard it as it came out. I don’t think I’ll ever be the crime boss our father was.”
“Thank God.” Knox offered his fist for a knuckle bump.
Caleb reciprocated. “Thank God. For real, though, Knox, don’t leave yet.”
“Of course not.” Knox repeated the fist bump. “We’ve still got work to do. I won’t leave until everything’s tied up tight.”
Caleb refused the second bump and offered his hand to shake instead. “You’ve got yourself a deal, brother.”
Caleb walked away, toward the garage where his beloved Porsche was parked, and Knox stayed planted outside the front doors. He still had a few tests to run on the security box and an unsettled feeling in his stomach. Knox owed Morales his loyalty after everything they’d been through together, but he was starting to think he might owe Caleb and Lance some. He’d thought of his fellow Marines as his brothers for so long that it hadn’t occurred to him that his actual brothers might start to feel like family, too.
* * *
Danielle sat in her usual place on the stool at her father’s breakfast island. As he’d done every Sunday she could remember, her dad stood at the induction cooktop flipping chocolate-chip pancakes. As was also their tradition, she had three flavors of syrup lined up in front of her, one for each pancake she would eat—maple, blueberry, and butter pecan.
What was new today was an extra body at the breakfast bar. Sherry’s, to be exact, and it wasn’t like she’d come over for an early-morning sugar hit. Her blue terry-cloth robe and memory-foam slippers declared that she’d been here all night. No, it was Danielle who was the visitor this morning, interrupting their intimate weekend.
Sherry propped her chin on her hand and turned her attention to Danielle. “How’s the job hunt going? Your father said you’ve sent out some résumés.”
Danielle kicked at the counter with her bare toes. “No interviews yet, but I do have a few leads on a possible new place to live.”
Her dad stiffened at the stove for a moment before plating the first pancake. He brought it to the breakfast bar and placed it in front of Sherry, which was fine with Danielle. The first pancake was never quite right. Sherry beamed at him like he’d handed her a plate of diamonds and said, “Oh, this looks delicious!”
“It is,” he assured her and poured out another helping of batter into the pan.
Sherry spread butter on her pancake and took her time examining each of the syrup bottles. “I’m so pleased you’ve taken up the challenge your father gave you. I think you’ll really like being out on your own.”
“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t my father’s challenge,” Danielle said low enough that she hoped her father couldn’t hear. “But don’t worry. I’ll be out of the cottage by my eviction deadline, and you can turn it into whatever you’ve got your heart set on. Just know that if you hurt my dad, I will come for you.”
Sherry’s eyes widened and she put down the syrup bottle with a loud thud. “I think we’ve gotten off to a bad start.”
“You think?” Danielle knew she was acting like a teenager, so she went all in and rolled her eyes.
Sherry swiveled her stool in Danielle’s direction. “It’s not like that at all. I have no designs on the cottage. Your dad is worried about you. He’s done his best for you, and he doesn’t understand why you aren’t happy.”
“I am happy,” Danielle said in a voice that admittedly wasn’t very happy sounding. “Or I was. Until you butted in. Do you know that most apartments want a security deposit for pets? Per pet?”
Sherry kept her voice low and soothing. “I didn’t butt in. I was invited in. By your father. I told him a little bit about how lost I was at your age. I was so angry at my ex-husband that I let that anger make all my decisions, and the only way I could escape was into a bottle. There are large chunks of Carrie’s childhood I don’t even remember. And I am deeply sorry for all that I missed.” Sherry stopped and took a deep breath. She reached for Danielle’s hand. “Carrie cut me out of her life. Didn’t want me near her son. It was a wake-up call, a wake-up call I wish I’d heard years before. I’ve been sober almost six years now. I didn’t want you to be like me, regretting what should be some of the best years of your life.”
“I’m not an alcoholic. I’ve never done drugs.” Danielle thought for a moment. T
he doctors had sure put her on plenty. “No illegal ones, anyway. I’m not some out-of-control mess that needs saving. In fact, I save lives. Or I did, before my dad fired me.” She glared at Sherry. Intellectually, she knew Sherry wasn’t evil. Emotionally? Totally different story. Like Cinderella’s evil-stepmother story. Except stepmother wasn’t the right word. Dad’s-step-girlfriend didn’t sound nearly ominous enough, though.
“I’m not saying you are. But you are letting opportunities pass you by. Why don’t you reach out and grab some of them before it’s too late?” Emotion shone in Sherry’s eyes so brightly it looked like she might cry.
“Pumpkin, here you go.” Dad slid a pancake in front of her. “Are my girls having a nice chat?”
“The nicest.” Danielle bared her teeth at her dad in what she hoped passed for a smile. Sherry lifted herself off the stool to share a kiss with her dad. Over the pancake. In front of Danielle. Maybe she really did need to move out.
Danielle focused on her pancake, slathering it in butter, then the maple syrup. She cut it into tiny bites, reminding herself that her dad deserved to be loved for the very cool guy that he was.
Mercifully, the kiss ended and he set up the next pancake.
“I haven’t always had the best taste in men,” Sherry confided like they were now girlfriends or something.
“My dad is great.” Danielle knew it would make her dad happy if it seemed like the two of them were getting along so she raised her voice. “I guess your luck has changed.”
Sherry’s eyes followed Danielle’s dad’s every move and gasped in surprise when he used the pan to single-handedly flip a pancake without a spatula. “Hasn’t it? I can’t believe a man like him is into someone like me.”
Danielle stuffed her mouth with four squares of pancake, declining to comment, because me either seemed mean when all Sherry’d been doing was trying to help. She was obviously terrible at helping, but one thing this breakfast cleared up was that it was well-intentioned meddling.