Page 13

I stole a couple of chips and leaned against the counter. “What does that mean?”

Brother and sister looked at each other, widening their eyes to the size of saucers and busting up laughing. It wasn’t particularly humorous, but I laughed anyway.

I was hungry for every detail of their past week. Science camp for Gretch, camp counseling and hockey practice for Rhys.

We made dinner together and caught up as if it had been a month since we’d seen each other. Later, we sat at the picnic table on the deck with Tate pacing the perimeter, hoping for a snack.

I reveled in the summer breeze, the hint of pine and cedar in the air, and the sounds of their voices. Rhys’s deeper tones and Gretchen’s softer melodic one as they chatted about their mom’s finicky cat Alistair’s Instagram fame, the bonfire at the lake last weekend, Rhys’s sick goal at the hockey scrimmage, and Gretch’s aching teeth.

They were worried about their grandpa wandering the town inspecting street signs, and they almost choked with laughter over a story they’d heard about the kid who’d drawn chalk butts in front of the station. And was it true? Emmett was one of Rhys’s camp kids, but he’d been assigned to a different group that day. He thought the kid was hilarious.

I confirmed the story and reminded Rhys about the time he’d spray-painted his hand on the driveway—and yes, it was still there. Or the time Gretchen had reheated leftover pizza in the box in the oven and almost set the house on fire.

They guffawed merrily, and all the angst and worry of the past week faded like background noise.

I was charmed by the return to normal, surrounded by the people I loved the most. I’d needed this more than I’d realized.

CHAPTER 5

REG

As much as I loved spending time with my kids, single parenting had its downfalls. I was a lone sheriff at home. And while I didn’t have a problem overseeing the wrangling of reprobates on Main Street, a little more finesse was required in handling emotional preteens with attitude and navigating the possibility that my son was maybe, possibly thinking about sex things with a girl he definitely had a crush on.

Within twenty-four hours of my return to full-time parenthood, I was wary of stepping on land mines at every turn. Sure, this happened every other week, but lately, it was more pronounced.

Gretchen, my sweet, socially awkward, incredibly brilliant daughter hopped into my SUV, waving at her science camp buddies—a gangly boy with braces and acne and a petite girl with thick bangs, Doc Martens combat boots, and a “Save the Whales” sweatshirt…on an eighty-degree afternoon. She chuckled as she fastened her seat belt. A good sign, right? She didn’t say a word, but her mood was upbeat. I certainly didn’t sense any danger or cause for concern when I asked,

“How was your day, princess?”

I hadn’t even cleared the parking lot before she broke into heart-wrenching sobs. The kind that required you to suck in a lung and gasp for air. Needless to say, I was alarmed. I pulled to the side and shifted in my seat, my heart pounding in my ears.

Gretchen pointed at the road ahead and sniffed. “I’m fine, Dad. Let’s go home. Please.”

“This isn’t fine. What’s wrong, honey? Did something happen? Did someone⁠—”

“No. Nothing. I swear. I just…” She rolled her lips and blinked furiously. “My stomach hurts and…I don’t…”

I brushed her hair from her forehead and sighed in relief. I could handle a tummy ache. No problem. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll heat up some chicken soup, and I bet you we have crackers too. The salty ones you like.”

Gretchen sniffed again and nodded. She hadn’t looked at me yet, but hell, I didn’t want to look at anyone if I felt bad either. I squeezed her hand and glanced in my rearview mirror, ready to slide behind Jed’s new shiny yellow taxi as Gretchen doubled over in pain.

“Jesus! Gretch! Baby, what’s wrong?” I’d officially entered full panic mode.

“It hurts!”

“Where? Tell me. What can I do?”

“Here.” She hiccupped, gesturing to her right side. Her appendix. Fuck. Oh, my God. I had to get her to the hospital.

I opened the center console and fumbled for the portable police light I used in case of emergency. This qualified. I tacked the blue light on and gunned my engine, whipping my way down Main Street, zigzagging around slower traffic. This kind of driving wasn’t tolerated in these parts. If I were me, I’d arrest my ass for negligence and disregard for rules and safety.

“We’ll be at the hospital as soon as possible. Hang tight, honey.”

“Hospital? Why—do you think I’m dying?” she squeaked. “There was only a little blood.”

“Blood?” Oh, shit. This was not good. Not good at all. Blood and a ruptured appendix. You could die from that. Maybe. I wasn’t positive, but I wasn’t willing to take a chance. This was my baby. My girl. Nothing could happen to her. Nothing could harm her, nothing could⁠—

“Dad? I think I just got my period.”