The Chesapeake Diaries Series 7-Book Bundle: Coming HOme, Home Again, Almost Home, Hometown Girl, Home for the Summer, The Long Way Home, At the River's Edge (46 page)

“So much for writing things down,” he muttered.

That was another reason why Paige should probably go back to her mother for the school year. He was so busy these days that he was having trouble keeping track of things. Grant’s days at the clinic were long, and he couldn’t foresee them getting any shorter. And then there was the shelter, and the animals there that needed tending. He knew that Paige cherished the time they spent together, tending to the homeless dogs
and cats that had been brought to him or that he’d found. But the number of animals they’d taken in was increasing by the week, and he’d already had to hire extra staff just to feed and exercise them during the day. How in the world could Paige keep up with homework and school activities and her time at the shelter? Grant knew his daughter well enough to know that she’d cut back on sports and she’d skip studying for a test before she’d skimp on her time with the animals.

They’d done all right together this summer, he reminded himself. Better than all right. They’d done damn well. Father and daughter had made out just swell, thank you very much.

Yeah
, that nagging little voice replied,
but summer comes without the responsibilities of the school year. Study time. After-school activities. Homework. Class trips
.

He didn’t like the idea of her leaving any more than Paige did, but Krista was probably right. Paige probably would have a more structured home life back in Camden Lakes. At least until summer came around again.

But damn it, he was going to miss his girl. She was growing up so fast. By next summer, she’d be going into junior high, and from there, it was a just a short hop to high school. Why, before he knew it, she’d be leaving for college. Blink, and she’d be grown up, an adult. Next thing she’d be wanting to get married. Or, God forbid, live with some guy.

The coffeemaker beeped to let him know the coffee was ready. He snapped out of his funk, got up, and poured himself a cup. He took the first slow sips
while leaning against the counter, trying to conjure up the face of the guy his little girl would be moving in with, sharing an apartment with. Unconsciously, Grant’s teeth began to grind.

If he hurts her, I may have to kill him …

“Daddy, Mimi said the little guy doesn’t have a broken leg.” Paige stuck her head in through the open door. “She said he’s just very sore and maybe hurt his muscles. Can I take him to the shelter and feed him?”

“Did you feed his sister?”

Paige nodded. “She took several droppers full of baby kitty food and some milk and some water. I could give Smokey the same.”

“Smokey?”

“I named them Smokey and Misty.” Paige grinned. “ ’Cause they’re both gray.”

“Very clever. Okay, go ahead and take them both to the shelter and find a warm spot for them.” He set his cup on the counter. “But first come here and give your dad a hug.”

She eyed him suspiciously as she crossed the room. “Why?”

“No reason. I just want to hug you.” He paused. “Do I not hug you often enough that you think I need a special reason?” He tried to remember if he’d hugged her the day before.

“Nah. I was playing with ya.” Paige returned the hug, then looked up into her father’s face. “You’re thinking about how much you’re going to miss me when I’m gone.”

“Well, yeah, but college is a long way away.”

“College?” Paige rolled her eyes. “You are so weird sometimes.”

She skipped off to get the kittens and take them to the shelter, which was housed in a barn that stood behind the clinic and across the drive from their house. Grant finished his coffee, rinsed out the cup, and headed for the lobby to see if his six-fifteen appointment had arrived. He’d deal with the specter of his grown-up child some other time.

Dallas sat on the rough wooden deck of Berry’s old dock, her bare feet skimming the water below, a glass of wine in one hand and her iPhone in the other.

“You are good, you know that, don’t you?” Dallas told Norma after hearing all the attorney’s news.

“I’m the best. That’s why you willingly pay my totally outrageous hourly rate,” Norma said merrily. “I’ve filed all the appropriate papers with the court. Now it’s up to the judge to decide whether or not Emilio should have access to his son right now.”

“What if Emilio denies everything?”

“I obtained a copy of his now-infamous video on DVD and attached it to my submission. Emilio’s attorney is well aware of the fact. I doubt they’ll put up too much of a fuss.” Norma paused. “But I should tell you he’s trying to raise a bit of a stink about you taking Cody out of the state without telling him.”

“I’m the custodial parent. I don’t have to tell him.” Dallas thought it over, then asked, “Do I?”

“No. Under the terms of the original agreement, the only time you’d need to communicate Cody’s whereabouts would be if it was Emilio’s weekend to have him, or if you’re taking him out of the country.”

“But you are asking that his visitation rights be revoked, right?”

“As we discussed. It’s all in the emergency motion I filed with the court. I’ll email a copy to you so you can look it over. We’ll use the hearing that’s coming up to go over the property agreement. If he wasn’t being such an ass over the distribution, we’d be done with this by now. That’s the only thing that’s hanging up the divorce.”

“But I told you that Emilio had a weekend coming up …” Dallas frowned. The last thing she wanted to do was fly Cody back across the country next week.

“He won’t be permitted to have it. Besides, if the rumors I’m hearing are true, Emilio will be in rehab by then.”

“Rehab?”

“For his alleged addiction to sex.”

“Oh, dear Lord,” Dallas muttered. “Can this get any more sordid?”

“Of course it can, sweetie. This is Hollywood.” Norma laughed, then signed off in her usual fashion.

Dallas tapped her fingers on the side of her glass. How was she going to explain this latest development to Cody? What was she supposed to say? “Daddy needed to go away so he could learn to keep it in his pants”?

She took a few minutes to check her email and listen to messages—none of which she felt like returning at that moment—then slid the phone back into her pocket.

She heard laughter from the lawn, and looked up to see her son struggling to carry a folded beach chair across the grass.

“Cody, do you need a hand there?” she called to him.

“I can do it,” he called back.

“Just watch the end of the deck so you don’t trip.”

“I can see.” He carried the chair onto the dock and pushed her hands away when she tried to help him open it. It took him a minute, but he finally was able to set the chair upright. “It’s for Aunt Berry,” he explained. “She wanted to come and sit with us by the water.”

“That was nice of you to carry the chair for her.”

He shrugged off the compliment and lay on the deck on his stomach.

“There are little fishies down there,” he whispered. “They look all silvery.”

Dallas peered over the edge slowly. “I see them darting around.”

“Did you used to watch the fishies when you were six?”

“You bet I did. Your uncle Wade and I used to take his boat out and—”

“Uncle Wade has a boat?” Cody’s head shot up. He looked longingly toward the old carriage house. “Is it in there?”

“I’m pretty sure Wade sold it before he went away to college. But Berry might still have his rowboat.”

“I’ll ask her. She’s out front talking to the bookstore lady.” Before Dallas could open her mouth, Cody had popped up and taken off.

He streaked across the grass as if he hadn’t a care in the world, a sharp contrast to the boy who’d boarded the plane from L.A. Maybe he’d needed the change in scenery as much as she did.

Dallas rested back on her elbows and stared at the cattails that grew along the bank on the opposite side
of the river, thinking how nothing ever changes here. The river looked the same; it even smelled the same. She took great comfort from the realization that no matter what happened anywhere else in her world, this place—this dock, this river, this house—was always here waiting for her. She couldn’t imagine a time when it might not be, refused to even consider such a thing. She folded her hands behind her head and closed her eyes, and listened to the gentle lapping of the river against the stones along the bank.

“Shhh. It looks as if Mommy’s napping,” Dallas heard Berry whisper to Cody a few minutes later.

“No, she isn’t,” Dallas told them. “She’s just relaxing.”

“Good. You could use some rest. You’re looking way too tense.” Berry sat in the chair that Cody had set up for her.

“I suppose tense is a step up from frightful.” Dallas sat up.

Berry smiled. “Yes, and it took less than twenty-four hours. Imagine how much better you’ll look—and I daresay, feel—after you’ve been here for an entire week.”

“We get to stay here for a whole week?” Cody asked.

“Who knows? Maybe even more than a week,” Berry said.

“Yay. This is way better than camp,” Cody told his mother. “Aunt Berry thinks there might be a rowboat in there.” He pointed at the carriage house. “But she thinks it might have a hole in it. She thinks it might have …” He turned to Berry. “What did you say it might have?”

“Dry rot, dear. We’ll have a look in the morning. It’s getting dark, and we won’t be able to see a blessed thing in there. Besides, the bats will be coming out soon, and—”

“Bats?” Dallas frowned and looked skyward. She’d forgotten about the bats.

“Well, yes, dear, they have to come out and eat sometime, you know.” Berry tapped Cody on the shoulder. “They eat mosquitoes. Why, just the other day, I read that bats can eat up to a thousand of them in one hour. Imagine how many more mosquitoes we’d have to swat away if we didn’t have bats to eat them.”

“I have a book about a bat.” Cody hung on the back of Berry’s chair. “She’s a baby fruit bat and her name is Stellaluna. She gets lost and has to live in a nest with some birds.”

“I would love to read that book.” Berry patted his hand. “Did you happen to bring it with you?”

“No, I didn’t bring any books.” He appeared suddenly saddened at the realization.

“Perhaps tomorrow we’ll see if Barbara has the Stellaluna book in her store. If not, we’ll try the library. Remind me when we go inside to give you a little notebook and a small pencil to put in your pocket. Every time we think of something we want to do while you’re here, you can write it down.”

“Auntie Mame,” Dallas muttered just as her phone began to ring. She peered at the caller ID before answering it. She recognized Emilio’s number and debated whether or not to let the call go to voice mail. She hadn’t spoken with him since the scandal broke and some perverse part of her wanted to get in a few
licks. She couldn’t help herself. She left Berry and Cody to their discussion of bats, and walked to the end of the dock.

“Hello, Emilio.”

“Where is he?”

“Where is who?” She walked across the yard, her eyes peeled for the bats she just knew were lurking nearby, waiting for her.

“You know damned well who. Cody. My son. Elena said he was with you but she wouldn’t tell me where you are.”

“If you recall our agreement, I do not have to consult you before taking him anywhere I want.”

“I need to see him, Dallas.”

“I don’t think he wants to see you right now. Because of you and your antics, he’s refused to go to day camp.”

“Ridiculous. What do I have to do with him going to camp?” Emilio scoffed.

“It seems your film debut was all anyone at camp wanted to talk about. The older kids called you names and teased Cody about … well, about what you were doing with someone other than Cody’s mother, and how it was all right there on their computers for anyone with a credit card and about forty-five minutes to kill.”

“Little bastards. I hope you told him to bloody their noses.”

“Dear God,” she murmured. Aloud, she said, “He’s only six years old. And you know I’ve never condoned violence.”

“You should be teaching him to stand up for himself, not run away.”

“I repeat, he’s only six.”

“Well, at the very least, I hope you complained to the camp administrators. They ought to kick those little bullies out.”

“I guess it would be foolish of me to expect that you’d take some responsibility for this yourself.”

“Why? I didn’t choose the camp. You did.” His voice took on that self-righteous tone that made her blood boil whenever she heard it. “Maybe you shouldn’t have sent him to a camp with such mixed age groups. Maybe you should have chosen a camp that only takes kids his own age.”

“Maybe you should have used better judgment. Maybe you should have checked to make sure the camera wasn’t running before you started your threesome.” Dallas paused. “Or was it your camera?”

“Of course it wasn’t my camera,” he snapped. “If it had been one of my cameras, the resolution would have been so much better.”

“What’s the purpose of this call?” Dallas rubbed her right temple. She felt a wicked headache brewing.

“I want to see my son. I’m going away for a while.”

“Ah, yes. The ever-popular sex addiction cure.”

Emilio ignored her. “I want to see him before I leave. He’ll wonder where I am. He’ll be upset …”

Dallas laughed out loud. Was he serious?

“Isn’t it a little late to start thinking about how Cody feels? And why in the name of all that’s holy do you think he’ll be upset if he doesn’t see you for …” She bit her bottom lip. “How long does it take to cure one’s sex addiction, anyway? Generally speaking.”

“I can see you’re not taking this seriously, Dallas.”
Self-righteous turned haughty. “Hypersexual disorder is every bit as serious, every bit as debilitating as drug addiction, as—”

“Oh, spare me. You are no more addicted to sex than you are to peanuts. You’re grabbing at the only excuse you can find to try to excuse your abominable behavior. You can sell that story to the tabloids, bud, but I’m not buying it.”

“Sex addiction has been recognized as a legitimate disorder.”

“By some. And I’m sure that it’s valid for some people. For you, it’s just an attempt to legitimize your disgusting behavior. You’re jumping on that bandwagon because you think it will make you look sympathetic instead of sleazy. You’re using it because ‘sex addiction’ is currently more socially acceptable than ‘immoral horn dog.’ ”