Summer in Good Hope (A Good Hope Novel Book 2) (12 page)

“I wished you’d called me. But I’m glad Max was there for you.” He studied her for several seconds. “There isn’t anyone I trust more.”

Prim wasn’t sure how to respond to that pronouncement. “He’s a good neighbor.”

A smile tugged at the corners of her father’s mouth. “I got the feeling at your housewarming he may be more than just a neighbor.”

Prim felt her face warm. “We’re, ah, close friends as well.”

Her father absently rubbed the condensation off his glass with a thumb. “Going through life without someone you love beside you can be lonely.”

Thinking of Rory—and how distant he’d been the last year before he died—she was tempted to tell her dad it could be lonely even when you were with someone you loved. But something in his eyes had her reconsidering. This conversation wasn’t about her anymore.

“You and Mom were always so close. You did everything together.” Prim spoke softly, hoping to soothe. But when the lines on his forehead only deepened, she reached across the table to squeeze his hand. “I can’t imagine what it’d be like to lose a spouse who was also your best friend.”

Only after the words left her mouth did she realize that she’d dissed Rory by the thoughtless comment. Thankfully, her dad didn’t appear to notice.

His fingers tightened around hers for the briefest of seconds, then relaxed.

“It helped having Ami here. Watching her find her soul mate reminded me of all the good times your mother and I shared. And Beck is a good man.” Coming from her father, that was high praise. “Now I have you and the boys. With children, everything seems new and fresh again.”

His eyes softened as his gaze shifted to where the twins were now taking turns pointing the sprinkler at each other. Tattered remnants of what once were brightly colored balloons lay scattered at their feet.

“I love those boys.” Those hazel eyes, so like her own, returned to her. “I love
you
, Primrose.”

“I love you, too, Daddy.” A lump rose to her throat. “Very much. I want you to be happy.”

“I know you do.” Steve took a long sip of tea. “Anita is a good woman.”

“You’ve been dating for a while now.” Prim kept her tone conversational.

“We have fun together.” Her father’s lips quirked in a lopsided smile. “Most of the time, anyway.”

“Relationships aren’t always easy.”

“Tell me about it.” He laughed, a low, pleasant rumbling sound. “I never imagined I’d be dating again at my age. But we all need someone.”

Was that what was going on here? Could it simply be that her father was lonely for companionship and Anita filled that void?

“I’m lucky that way.” Prim’s gaze settled on her dad and her heart filled with love. “I have my boys and my sisters. And you.”

“Sometimes a person needs more,” her dad said.

“Not always.” An image of Max surfaced but was quickly shoved aside. “I’m perfectly happy with my life just the way it is, at least for right now. I don’t need more.”

C
hapter
T
welve

Maybe she did need more, Prim thought to herself as she strolled down Good Hope’s Main Street with her father and Anita. The boys ran ahead, but close enough she could keep her eyes on them.

There was something a bit pathetic about being twenty-eight years old and being the fifth wheel on your father’s Saturday-night date with his girlfriend.

Until he’d hooked up with Anita, her dad had displayed good judgment in all parts of his life. Prim slanted a sideways glance at the divorcée, dressed casually—but seductively—in a clingy jersey dress with a scooped neck that showed an ample amount of cleavage.

It was easy to see how her dad had been sucked in. Anita was an attractive woman and she could be charming. At fifty-nine, her father still had a lot of life to live. While something in her rebelled against her
dad
having any kind of sexual needs, she wondered if that was a large part of his attraction to Anita.

Prim frowned. Could that be what was going on between her and Max? Simple physical need between two people with a lot of life to live? It felt like so much more, but then what did she know?

“What in the world are they doing?”

Anita’s irritated voice had Prim’s head swiveling. By the woman’s shrill tone, Prim expected Connor and Callum to be swimming in a mud puddle or climbing onto the hood of a parked Mercedes. Instead, one of the boys must have brought a rubber snake with him. When one twin tossed it high into the air, the other would catch it.

Since they seemed to be avoiding bumping into anyone—a miracle—Prim had no problem with the harmless game. Neither, apparently, did her father.

“They’re being boys, Anita.” The affection in his tone warmed Prim’s heart. “Having fun.”

“I always made my girls stand right beside me whenever we went out.” Anita’s tone was milder than it could have been, but the censure came through loud and clear.

When the muscle in her father’s jaw jumped, Prim knew he’d caught it, too.

“Sounds like we have another good band this year.” This time Steve spoke directly to Prim.

“Music in the Square is one of my favorite pre-Fourth activities.” Prim let her gaze linger on the red-white-and-blue street banners that decorated each light pole.

Festivities were planned for every weekend leading up to the main event. The businesses they passed, as well as the ones up ahead, already sported patriotic themes and colors.

Because of the crowds swarming the square, they’d had to park several blocks away.

“I can’t believe you couldn’t find anything closer, Steve,” Anita griped. “By the time we get to the square my feet are going to be killing me.”

Personally, Prim thought Anita complained just to get her father to look at her shiny red toenails and strappy heeled wedges. Unlike Anita, this evening she’d gone for comfort.

She’d tossed on a white eyelet dress and let her hair go wild, then grabbed a pair of her most comfortable shoes. Though her father had wanted them to all ride together, she’d driven separately, compromising by parking next to him and Anita. She wanted the flexibility of being able to leave whenever the boys got too rowdy or she could no longer take Anita’s whining.

The crowds around them began to thicken and Prim called the boys back to them. They came willingly, showing their grandfather the realistic-looking snake and chattering how their mom had promised them a snow cone if they were good.

As the twins fell into step beside the older man, one grandson on each side, Prim found herself stuck beside Anita.

Make an effort
, Prim told herself. “How are Lindsay and Cassie doing?”

Although Prim had been younger than either of Anita’s two daughters, she’d been acquainted with both of them.

“Lindsay is still working as a floral designer at the Enchanted Florist.” Anita’s tone conveyed mild disapproval. “I told her on our shopping trip this weekend that she should be owning her own shop, not working in one.”

It took all of Prim’s self-restraint not to bring up Bernie, the Bagel King. It was Anita’s divorce several years ago from the bagel magnate that had given her the money to start her own business.

“Dad works for the school system and he’s perfectly happy.” Prim kept her tone light. “He certainly doesn’t feel the need to have his own business.”

Prim glanced pointedly at her father, but he was wiggling the snake and making the twins squeal.

“That’s totally different.” Anita sniffed but cast a worried glance in Steve’s direction.

Satisfied her point had been made, Prim smiled and changed the subject. “Is Lindsay dating anyone?”

“She’s barely thirty.” Anita bristled. “Not everyone jumps into marriage directly out of college.”

Prim absorbed the punch and wondered if the boys would prefer going for ice cream over hearing the band. Only because she knew leaving so early would stress her dad, she tried again. “How’s Cassie? Her daughter, Dakota, seems like a lovely girl. She was a big help at the pancake feed this morning.”

Anita adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder. “Cassie and I have been estranged in recent years. Because of that I’ve been kept from my grandchildren.”

That comment fell squarely into the bucket of “the truth according to Anita.” Prim recalled quite clearly when Anita had washed her hands of Cassie—and her children—when her daughter had refused to follow her dictates. In deference to her father’s fondness for Anita, Prim chose not to muddy the waters with any pesky facts. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It happens in even the best families.” Anita’s hands fluttered like a bird in the air. “Now that Cassie has kicked that loser, Clint Gourley, out of her house, I’m hopeful we can reconnect.”

Prim decided it best not to mention she’d run across loser Clint at the beach.

“Did Dad tell you the boys will be visiting Rory’s parents in a couple of weeks?” Prim kept her tone conversational, still searching for neutral ground.

“I don’t believe he mentioned it.” The tension on Anita’s face eased. “I’ve always enjoyed Deb Delaney. A wonderful woman and so devoted to her son. I remember when Rory was diagnosed. Deb and Mike were devastated. But of course, what else would you expect? Their only child had received a death sentence.”

While the medical community had made great strides in recent years with CF treatment, back when Rory had been diagnosed, the outlook had been grim. As a parent, Prim couldn’t imagine getting such news.

“I can’t imagine what a relief it was that neither of your boys has CF. It being genetic and all.” Anita exhaled a heavy, melodramatic breath. “That was quite a risk you took. Well, I guess that’s why Rory had never planned on having children. But what’s meant to be will be, right?”

People
, Prim thought,
need to keep their mouths shut
.

It was true Rory hadn’t been planning for children. Neither of them had. When he told her he would have a vasectomy, she’d understood completely. They’d both been terrified when they found out she was pregnant. For weeks Rory had been beside himself with guilt over the thought he might have passed his disease on to his child.

From the moment they heard those twin heartbeats, there was never any question that her getting pregnant was the best thing that had ever happened. Rory wanted the babies as much as she did, and not even the worry that the boys might have inherited CF was going to dampen their joy. After all, hadn’t Rory been living proof that you could have a life bigger than your disease?

Deb had blamed her for the pregnancy, obviously forgetting it took two to tango.

Prim could still hear the hurtful words Deb had hurled at her when she found out. Rory had quickly put an end to that, and ever since, Deb had been civil to her, but Prim wasn’t sure she could ever completely forgive or forget.

The boys had been a blessing then and they were a blessing now.

“Walking this far is ridiculous,” Anita whined, limping a little.

Prim was about to suggest Anita sit on one of the benches and they could pick her up later when Connor shouted and waved wildly. “Hi, Mr. Brody.”

Prim shifted her gaze from a sulking Anita and found herself staring directly into Max’s vivid blue eyes.

“This is quite the party crowd.” Max extended a hand to Prim’s father and smiled at Anita and Prim before turning his attention to the boys. “What’s that I see peeking out of your pocket?”

Quick as a ninja, Callum jerked the snake from his pocket and shoved it into Max’s face.

“Whoa.” Max jumped back, hands raised as if ready to fend off an attack. Though he did his best to look startled, he couldn’t keep from smiling.

“It’s not real.” Connor moved forward and touched Max’s hand. “It can’t hurt you.”

Max pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. “That’s a relief.”

Callum jeered. “You were scared.”

“Connor. Callum. Oh, whichever one you are.” Anita tossed up her hands in frustration. “You need to apologize to Mr. Brody. That was not amusing.”

“Easy, there.” Steve put a hand on Anita’s shoulder. “It was a boyish prank. No harm done.”

His tone might have been mild, but there was a distinct warning in his eyes.

Anita pressed her lips together. If she were a teapot, Max had no doubt she’d be spewing steam right about now.

He turned his attention to Prim. She’d appeared to be fighting a smile when the snake had made its appearance. In the simple, white dress with her hair tumbling around her shoulders, she looked as refreshing as a cool glass of lemonade.

He’d always had a particular affinity for lemonade.

“Are you here with a date?” Anita’s question broke through his thoughts.

He cocked his head and casually blocked the punch Callum aimed at his midsection.

“Callum,” Prim said sharply. “What are you doing?”

The boy lifted a skinny shoulder and let it drop.

“Being a boy.” Max placed a hand on the child’s head and gave him a noogie.

He squealed with delight.

“Charlotte seems like such a lovely woman.” Anita glanced around as if expecting the brunette to walk up at any moment. “Both beautiful and successful.”

Max sensed Prim’s watchful gaze.

“Where is she this evening?” Anita pressed, much like a dog bent on a particularly delectable bone.

“I believe Charlotte is back in Chicago.”

Anita raised a skeptical brow. “You don’t know?”

“She mentioned something about catching a flight to Midway this morning.”

Anita’s eyes brightened. “Oh, so you’re saying she spent the night.”

Max blew out an exasperated breath, wondering how Steve stood this woman. “What I’m saying is that Charlotte and I are casual acquaintances, nothing more.”

Rolling his shoulders against sudden tightness, Max cast a glance at the twins. They’d lost interest in the conversation and were running circles around each other on the sidewalk.

Even though the boys seemed fully occupied with the impromptu game, Max lowered his voice and focused on Steve, ignoring Anita. “What did you think about the excitement in my neighborhood last night?”

“I don’t like it one bit. It worries me that Prim and the boys are in that house alone.” Steve’s gaze met his. “Thank you again for coming to my daughter’s assistance.”

“Prim should have called the sheriff before she called Max.” Anita glanced at Steve. “Don’t you agree?”

“I don’t.” Steve’s eyes were cool. “I believe my daughter responded appropriately.”

“I agree,” Max said, his tone as cool as Steve’s eyes.

Anita opened her mouth, then closed it, appearing to reconsider what she’d been about to say. She offered a bright smile. “Tom Larson, who cooks part-time for Beck, came into my shop this morning. We got to chatting.”

From the self-satisfied gleam in the woman’s eyes, Max had no doubt it had been Anita doing the majority of the talking, probably pumping the poor guy for information about Beck and Ami.

“Tom brought up the burglaries. We are both very concerned that one of these times someone is going to get hurt.” Anita continued without taking a breath, “When Steve told me it was your house that had been targeted, I got the heebie-jeebies.”