The Comeback Girl (4 page)

A prickle of moisture welled up behind Kristin’s sinuses. How could she have forgotten how kind he was?

“Did you hear that, Jenny?” Ida exclaimed, looking at Kristin. “Rosemarie might be in some collector’s showroom. We might never see her again.”

Donnie raised his eyebrows at Ida’s mistake, but Kristin didn’t bother correcting her aunt about her
name. Instead, she changed the subject, “When Andi gets back from her doctor’s appointment, Auntie, maybe you and I could take Zach, Sarge and Harley to the park. Would you like that?”

“No, dear, I’m not feeling too peppy today. Why don’t you take Donnie, instead? I’ll fix a picnic. You two lovebirds deserve a little treat.”

Kristin chanced a glance at Donnie, whose smile looked bemused, and maybe just a bit wistful. “I wish I could do that, Miss Ida, but I have to run along,” he said. “I have to pick up my son.”

“What son?” Ida Jane asked, her face contorting in the befuddled look Kristin and her sisters had come to know all too well.

Ida’s doctors had attributed her declining mental acuity to residual effects of the stroke she’d suffered that spring as well as senile dementia. The diagnosis included the grim prediction that Ida would eventually need hospitalization, but the triplets had vowed to keep their beloved great-aunt at home.

“Auntie, would you watch the desk for a minute while I walk Donnie out?”

Andi had warned against leaving Ida Jane unsupervised, but Kristin tried to give their aunt as much independence as possible.

Donnie held the door for her; as she passed by, he asked softly, “How’s she doing?”

Kris rushed past. He seemed taller, more substantial than she remembered. And his uniform made her nervous.

“She’s doing pretty well physically after her stroke. But her mind isn’t as sharp as it once was. But whose is?” she added with a lame chuckle.

Kris stepped to the railing and took a deep breath. A riot of mums, snapdragons and dahlias filled the flower beds below her. The hummingbird feeder above her head attracted ambitious dive-bombers that buzzed past like souped-up bees.

“Fortunately, we’ve found a doctor who specializes in geriatric care. He started her on blood thinners and an antidepressant, but we have to watch her like a hawk so she doesn’t help herself to an afternoon toddy.”

Donnie’s low chuckle made her yearn for something she couldn’t even identify. “The tables have turned, haven’t they?” he said. “I remember when Ida worried about our partying.”

The irony of his comment wasn’t lost on her. Drinking was partly to blame for her present predicament. Maybe if she hadn’t been hell-bent on getting drunk the night of the party, she wouldn’t have wound up making love with Tyler. But then she wouldn’t have Zach, and she couldn’t imagine a world without her son.

Almost as if she’d conjured him up, a kid in sloppy jeans and a black T-shirt appeared at the end of the sidewalk—hound at his side. He moved with a graceless shuffle, head down. “There’s Zach.”

Sarge spotted Kris and let out a warbling bay. Zach looked up and froze. Even from a distance, Kristin could read his expression, which changed
from curiosity to petulance. “Zach,” she called, trying to sound upbeat for Donnie’s sake. “Come and meet Donnie Grimaldo, an old friend from high school.”

Zach gave Donnie a brief, castigating glance then cut across the lawn to avoid the porch altogether. Kristin wasn’t surprised—he’d pretty much severed all but the most basic communication with her. But she was embarrassed by such a public display of rudeness. “Zach,” she called.

Donnie surprised her by brushing her arm in a brief but supportive gesture. “It’s okay.”

Tears clustered in her eyes. “No, it’s not,” she snapped, stepping away so he wouldn’t see her cry. “He’s an obnoxious brat and he’s punishing me for moving here. And for everything else, too.”

She heard him take a step closer. “He’s a kid with a chip on his shoulder. Give him space, but let him know you love him unconditionally. He’ll come around.”

Kristin wished she could believe that. She swiped away the tears with her fingers and turned. “I hope you’re right. Sometimes it feels like I’m talking to a complete stranger, but I do love him. He’s my life. I used to call us the dynamic duo. We did everything together, and we had a lot of fun. I hope he remembers that someday when he’s not so angry.”

Donnie put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “He will.”

The connection went deeper than he’d intended,
she was sure. It spread like warm honey through her flesh, and she might have melted in a boneless heap if not for a sudden crashing sound from inside the store.

“Uh-oh,” a small voice said. “Jenny, I’ve spilled the thingies.”

“That’s the second time she’s called you Jenny,” Donnie remarked.

“She gets confused. I’d better go. Thanks for helping me out this morning.”

“No problem. I gotta run. Lucas is waiting for me to take him shopping,” he said, hurrying down the steps. “Don’t you hate it when you’re late, and your son gets this look that tells you you’re the worst parent in the world?”

Kristin wondered if this actually had happened or Donnie was just trying to be nice. “I know it well.”

Donnie paused a moment. “I meant to get some business cards from you. Will you be home tonight? I usually go for a run after dinner. I could pick up a stack. Unless that’s too late.”

A run? It sounded like heaven. What she wanted most was to run toward the east and just keep going. “Sure. No problem. I’m staying at Jenny and Josh’s old place, you know.”

His chuckle curled around the wind chimes above her head and zinged her like a wet towel. “This is Gold Creek, Kris. Your new brother-in-law may have given “Glory’s World” the ax, but there’s still the grapevine.”

He nodded goodbye and walked away.

Feeling a bit unsettled and a little blue, Kris went to investigate the source of the crash. A canister was lying on its side—paper clips spread in every direction. Ida Jane had started picking them up but had apparently got sidetracked. At times, her great-aunt’s attention span rivaled Zach’s at age four.

“Cool necklace you’re making, Auntie,” Kris said, noticing the chain of clips in Ida’s lap.

She took a broom and dustpan from behind the counter and completed the cleanup. She contemplated salvaging the clips from the dusty mess, but gave up. As she dumped everything into the trash, she noticed a newspaper that had fallen behind some sacks. She pulled it free, intending to toss it away, too, but the headline caught her eye: Developer Plans Big for Gold Creek.

Kris hadn’t had time to read the paper in weeks. On the way to the airport to pick up Zach, Jenny and Andi had been discussing a recent Chamber of Commerce meeting, but Kris had been too preoccupied to pay attention.

She drew up a stool beside her aunt and scanned the front page. To her surprise, two of the bylines were attributed to Gloria Harrison Hughes. Tyler’s mother. Kris knew that Jonathan had made an effort to keep as many of the
Ledger’s
original employees as wished to stay, but she’d been sure Gloria would leave out of loyalty to her brother, the previous owner.

For years, Gloria’s column “Glory’s World” had
chronicled local gossip, speculation, rumor and opinion with a free hand. Kristin and her sisters had, for the most part, basked in Glory’s goodwill until the night Kris had wound up naked with Gloria’s son. After that, the author’s tone had changed.

Now the column was history, and Gloria had been assigned to cover local news—just as her son was making it.

“Auntie, listen to this.” She read aloud from the article: “‘Although Meridian, Inc. CEO Tyler Harrison was unavailable for comment, the company announced that it was exploring economic options in the Gold Creek area.’”

Ida gave her a look that said, So what?

Kris read a little farther, noting quotes from local residents. Those advocating change saw Meridian as the key to progress. No matter what the company planned, the result would be more jobs and increased property values. Those opposed wanted to keep Gold Creek virtually the same as it had always been.

“What do you think, Auntie?”

“Never trust a Harrison.”

A shiver of unease made Kristin jump to her feet. Ty’s father had embezzled money from the local bank to cover his bad investments then committed suicide when Tyler was about Zach’s age.

“Maybe Ty wants to atone for his father’s activities,” she said, helping her aunt to stand.

Although Andi was one of those adamantly against anything that might destroy the character of
Gold Creek, Kristin was more concerned about Ty’s timing. Why after eleven years without a word, was he now coming back to Gold Creek?

“Or could be he wants somebody to pay for what happened with his daddy,” Ida Jane said.

Kristin didn’t want to think about Ty. Any day now, she expected to hear from her attorney about a custody hearing. If Tyler Harrison was out for revenge, she knew whose name would be at the top of his list.

D
ONNIE FINISHED
chopping a stalk of celery and added it to the salad he was making for dinner. Lucas was in his bedroom, no doubt playing the new video game he’d purchased with money Sandy had sent him. Donnie’s mother was due home any minute from her exercise class. He’d encouraged her to sign up for Jazzercise after her checkup showed an alarmingly high cholesterol level.

They’d changed their diet, too, and Donnie had taken up running again. Unfortunately, Lucas resisted his father’s invitation to join him. The boy was content to spend his free time playing video games or practicing guitar; the lack of exercise had contributed to a weight problem that had started when Donnie and Sandy first separated.

“Lucas, did you sweep out the garage?”

The mumbled answer could have been either a positive or a negative. Before Donnie could follow through, however, the kitchen door opened and a slim, attractive woman in baggy pink sweatpants
and a loose T-shirt emblazoned with the words Dynamic Granny across the chest walked in. “Hello, dear, how was your day?” Maureen Grimaldo asked.

Usually, Donnie counted his blessings that his mother was willing to share a home with him and help raise Lucas, but Donnie couldn’t help feeling guilty. Maureen Grimaldo was an active, vital fifty-four-year-old widow. She claimed she enjoyed a full life in Gold Creek, but Donnie felt she deserved more. And he planned to see she got it—once he completed his air marshal training.

He wasn’t deluding himself about the demands this new job would make on his time, but with the additional income—and if Sandy would live up to her obligations—they’d be able to make it work.

“I got my approval notice today,” he said softly. He’d shared his aspirations with his mother but very few others. Not even Lucas knew. Donnie hadn’t wanted to broadcast his plans in case he was turned down.

Maureen dropped her gym bag and purse on a chair and rushed across the room. “Congratulations, honey,” she exclaimed, hugging him. “I’m so proud of you.”

He basked in her praise a minute then carried the salad bowl to the table. “How was your day? Did you hear from Aunt Roberta?” Maureen’s sister hadn’t been feeling well for several weeks and had been scheduled for tests today.

His mother poured herself a glass of water and
added a slice of lemon to it. “Actually, that’s why I’m late. I stopped at the travel bureau on the way home. The news isn’t good.”

Donnie swallowed.
Travel?
“Sit down. Why don’t you tell me about it before I call Lucas to the table.”

Maureen kept it simple, as was her style. A cancerous mass near the kidney. Immediate surgery. A possible transplant in the future.

“A kidney transplant? You’d be the donor?”

She shrugged. “If I match. Roberta’s the only one left on my side of the family, and she’s such a wonderful person. I’ll do whatever I can. But right now, I just want to be with her.”

Donnie felt his dream slide a little farther out of reach.

“Isn’t it fortunate that Sandy is taking Lucas this year,” Maureen asked rhetorically.

Donnie nodded. Now wasn’t the time to announce his ex-wife’s change of plan. He loved his aunt, and he owed his mother far too much to make her feel badly about doing what she needed to do.

Two hours later, as his Nikes pounded the pavement and sweat dripped down the sides of his face, Donnie kept his mind purposefully blank. He should never have gotten his hopes up. If only Magnus wasn’t such an odious boss. Donnie had been spinning his wheels—wasting his talent, some said—for nearly eight years. If Magnus Brown won a third term this November, Gold Creek would be in big trouble. At one time, Donnie had actually
considered running for sheriff, but then had decided to apply to the FAM program instead.

There has to be a way to make this happen, he thought.
Maybe Sandy’s mom could help out.

Paulette “Poopsie” Grossman was in her mid-seventies, but she seemed older. It wasn’t surprising, Donnie thought, considering the hard life she’d led. Currently, she lived in Redding with her eldest son, Elroy, who owned a ranching operation.

If Poopsie would move in…
The idea suddenly struck him as so odious he stopped midstride and bent over to catch his breath. Poopsie was a whiny, cigarette-smoking junk-food addict. No way could he subject his son to that woman’s company for any sustained length of time. Lucas had enough problems without adding Poopsie’s influence.

Donnie just about to take off again when he looked around and realized he was only a block away from Kristin’s house. He knew the place well since he and Sandy had socialized with Josh and Jenny when the couple first returned to Gold Creek after college.

The night had turned chilly. Donnie sprinted the remaining block and shot diagonally across Kristin’s yard, vaulting over a mountain bike lying on its side beside a low hedge. A muted bark came from the backyard of the house.

Breathing hard, he rapped on the door. The exterior light snapped on. Donnie jogged in place to retain his body heat. There was a sound from be
hind the door but nothing happened. “Kris? It’s Donnie. Do you have those cards for me?”