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Authors: Debra Salonen

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BOOK: The Comeback Girl
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“He’s going to call in the morning. I have to work on my writing assignment part of the day.”

“Okay. G’night,” she called as dog and boy trudged down the hallway. Kristin didn’t move for a good ten minutes. She had to force herself to go to bed, but once there, she turned on the television and sank under the covers, letting the blue-gray light fill the darkness. She put the volume on mute and set the timer, in case she actually fell asleep.

She was still awake when it snapped off four hours later. A guilty conscience made for a lousy bed partner.

 

D
ONNIE SURPRISED HIMSELF
by waking up early enough the next morning to attend the first service at the little nondenominational church he’d joined after the divorce. He and Sandy had been active church members of the Gold Creek Presbyterian Church throughout their marriage, but he’d needed a change after they split up. As he’d told his mother, “She got custody of our faith.”

The minister—a plump woman with a jovial apple-cheek smile and kind heart—preached about the importance of acceptance. The songs and psalms gave him a certain sense of peace, even though his life was upside-down.

When he returned home, the house seemed very empty, so he turned up the radio in the garage and dug through years of accumulated possessions. By the end of the day, the garage sparkled. Even his workbench was neat and tidy.

He’d checked in with Kristin twice by phone. She was handling the antique store for Andi, who’d
taken Ida Jane to visit friends. Kris told him Tyler had invited Zach to have pizza with him in a nearby town.

Donnie could imagine how unnerving it was for her to deal with Zach’s feelings about his father. He’d offered to take her out to dinner, but she’d declined, pleading a headache. He promised to call after he’d talked to Lucas.

To his surprise, the large red SUV pulled into the driveway—a day ahead of schedule. The rear passenger door opened, and Lucas jumped out, dragging his backpack. Three or four shopping bags followed.

Donnie hurried to help. “Hello, son. That was a fast trip. Welcome home.”

Lucas’s grunt didn’t exactly encourage conversation. “How was your visit?”

Lucas slammed the door and bent over to pick up two bags. He used the bulkiness of his backpack to ward off any attempt Donnie might have made to hug him. “Grandma coughs a lot and has to cart around a tank of oxygen. Uncle Elroy has a new wife who complains all the time, and her bratty kids got on my nerves.”

The passenger-side window hissed down, and Sandy backed up enough so she was parallel to Donnie and Lucas. “I love you, honey. Sorry we had to cut the trip short. I promise to make it up to you next time.”

Lucas grunted some kind of acknowledgment.

“I left a message on your machine,” Sandy told
Donnie, as if this change of plan was somehow his fault. “I have to run. I tried Boyd on the cell and couldn’t find him. I’m afraid he might have fallen off a ladder.”

Donnie wisely kept his opinion to himself and stepped out of the way as she pulled around to leave. He picked up two outlet-store bags filled with brand-name jeans, shirts and a couple of sweatshirts.

It bothered him that Sandy thought she could buy their son’s affection. But if designer labels improved his son’s self-image, Donnie couldn’t really object. Lucas had struggled with his weight since first grade when Donnie and Sandy separated. His sedentary lifestyle didn’t help, but Donnie’s attempts to interest his son in sports had backfired.

“I’m not you, okay?” Lucas had cried when Donnie suggested PeeWee Football. “I’m not a star athlete like you. Just leave me alone.”

Donnie carried the bags inside. “Lucas, how about a fried-egg sandwich for dinner? I’ve been too busy to cook.”

“Had burgers in Modesto,” Lucas told him. He pulled a plastic box out of his backpack. “See what Mom bought me for my birthday?”

A much-coveted, hard-to-find video game.

“I’m sure you’re anxious to play it, but could we talk first?”

Lucas sighed. “What?”

Donnie took a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. “Well, I’d like to hear about your trip, for
starters. But if you’d rather not talk about it, then we need to discuss the immediate future. What’s going to hap—”

Lucas made a grumbling sound and collapsed onto one of the three stools at the counter. “If this is about the dumb nanny, forget it. I won’t stay with a baby-sitter. I’ll be ten tomorrow. That’s too old for a nanny.”

Donnie could feel his son’s temper escalating. Like his father, Lucas had a short fuse. “This would be a good time to take a deep breath, son. Your voice is rising. We can’t have any kind of productive dialogue if we’re yelling at each other.”

“No nanny,” Lucas snapped.

“Good. Because I don’t plan to hire one.”

That earned a startled look that quickly changed to suspicion. “What then?”

Donnie’s pulse quickened. “First of all, I’m not going anywhere. I turned down the job. Now I’m thinking of running for sheriff.” When Lucas didn’t react, Donnie added, “And I might get married.”

Lucas’s mouth dropped open. “Who? Mom?” A furious blush told Donnie his son regretted the mistake.

“That would be a little difficult since she has a husband,” Donnie said as gently as possible. “Actually, Kristin is an old friend of mine who just moved back to town. We dated in high school. She has a son a year older than you. She hasn’t said yes, by the way. They want to come over tomorrow to meet you.”

Lucas said nothing, so Donnie continued. “Her name is Kristin Sullivan. Her great-aunt owns the antique store. Her son’s name is Zach. He’s in seventh grade.”

Lucas’s eyes narrowed. “You’re marrying some woman just to get out of paying for a housekeeper?”

Donnie almost smiled. “No, son. If she says yes, it will be because we care about each other,” he began. But the truth was he didn’t know how to explain to a ten-year-old why he and Kris were getting married. He wasn’t sure
he
knew the real reason himself.

Lucas’s expression turned to one of cynicism. “Whatever. Can I go now?” Lucas grabbed his video game and stormed out of the room.

 

T
HREE HOURS LATER
, while munching on an apple, Donnie called Kristin.

“I’ve talked to Lucas,” he told her without preamble after her initial hello. It was ten-thirty, but she didn’t sound as though she’d been on the verge of sleep.

“Oh?” Her tone sounded braced for bad news. “So what did he say?”

“Pretty much what I expected him to say.
Whatever,
” he said, mimicking his son’s huffy sigh. “Don’t you just hate that word?”

Kristin’s laughter warmed him. “It’s right there at the top of the list,” she said. “Along with several
others I prefer to spell rather than speak aloud. What else did he say?”

Donnie sighed, then added, “I cornered him in his bedroom a few minutes ago. He said he doesn’t care what I do as long as you promise to leave him alone and don’t try to mother him.”

“He’s just a little boy, Donnie. I think we need to give him time.”

“I agree in theory, but Jonathan called a few minutes ago. Apparently the filing date has passed. If I want to run, it will have to be a write-in campaign. Do you know how risky that is?”

She didn’t answer.

“Kris, I have to decide soon.”

“Donnie, do you honestly think I’d help your chances?”

“Yes. People in this town love a wedding. And my marrying one of the Sullivan triplets will definitely gain me points.” He could hear her breathing. “Kris,” he said softly. “We both know politics isn’t the only thing driving this proposal. I want to marry you for a lot of reasons.”

She was quiet for a long time. Donnie really didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone. “The other night when I proposed, it might have been for the wrong reason, but, Kris, it felt right. I could run for office as a single man—and I will if you turn me down. But why don’t we do what you suggested—lay our cards on the table with the boys? Bring Zach over here tomorrow. It’s
a holiday and Lucas’s birthday. Let’s all four discuss this face-to-face.”

“I’d like to meet Lucas, but I’m not agreeing to anything until we’ve all had a chance to talk.”

They ironed out the details of their meeting then Donnie said good-night. He hung up the phone and picked up the stack of FAM paperwork he’d accumulated. He couldn’t help feeling a little regret. He would have liked to give this a try. Too often in the past he’d taken the easy route. Was he doing it again? It didn’t
feel
easy.

The phone rang before he could step away from the desk. Assuming it was Kristin, he said, “Change your mind?”

“Donavon?”

“Mom. How’s Aunt Roberta?”

“Not good. They’ve got her on a dozen different medications. I’m so glad I can be here with her.”

Donnie made a note to send flowers. “Me, too.”

“What’s been decided on your end? Have you talked to anyone yet—no, wait, the ad won’t even be out till later in the week, will it? I’ve lost all track of time.”

Donnie took a breath and let it out. “Actually, Mom, I have news. I’m not taking the air marshal job. And I’ve asked Kristin Sullivan to marry me.”

His mother didn’t answer for a good minute. “Kristin? But, Donnie, what about your dreams?”

“Mom, Lucas needs me here. Besides, Kristin has always been my real dream. You know that.”

“Marriage is a big step, Donnie. Are you sure?”

He’d been practicing this speech in his head all day. “Kris and I have known each other since we were kids, Mom. We’re soul mates.” As he spoke the words, Donnie knew they were true. “And there’s more, Mom. I’m going to run for sheriff.”

A long sigh filtered through the phone line. “I know you’ll make a wonderful sheriff, son, but single men get elected, too. If you’re marrying Kristin just to win an election…”

Donnie tried to answer with bluster, but she cut him off. “Forget I said that. I’ll keep my nose out of it since I can’t be there to help, but, Donnie, you know you can call me if the…engagement doesn’t work out.”

He expelled a sigh. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Tell my grandson I love him and miss him and I wish him a very happy birthday.”

“You got it. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, Donnie. You’re a remarkable man. Kristin is a lucky woman.”

He chuckled. “I’ll tell her you said so.”

“That’s probably not a good idea. Mothers are notoriously prejudiced when it comes to their sons. Actually, I saw Kristin the day before I left. She’s still very pretty. But I can’t help remembering…”

“Things are different this time,” he told her. “Ty Harrison is back, and it sounds like he might use Kristin’s reputation for not putting down roots anywhere to obtain custody of Zach.”

“So by marrying one of the town’s leading citizens, she has integrity and stability on her side.”

Donnie made a face. “I don’t know about the leading-citizen thing, but Kris loves her son and will do anything for him. I’m hoping she and Lucas will hit it off.”

“What does Sandy think of the idea?”

“I’ll let you know after I tell her.”

They ended the conversation because a nurse interrupted to administer something to his aunt. He wished his mother a good night then hung up.

One hurdle out of the way. Sandy would be next. She deserved to be informed about this since this plan affected their son’s welfare, but she wasn’t entitled to be a part of the decision-making process.

He rose thoughtfully and turned off the lights. In the corner, propped against the fireplace stood the old Ibanez guitar he’d found in the storage closet. His son had received a shiny new bass for Christmas. This electric guitar was the one Donnie had bought after his first paying gig. With new strings and a little TLC, it might just help Donnie connect with Zach.

 

Z
ACH HELD
the business card under the high-intensity light of his desk lamp. His father—
his
father—had given it to him earlier, while the woman who was his grandmother had gone to the store. For some reason, Zach couldn’t make himself call Gloria
grandmother.
Maybe because she was so different from Ida Jane, who felt like a
gramma.

Ida was as huggable as a teddy bear. Gloria was stiff and nervous. Her energy seemed to wear down
his father, who wasn’t anything like Zach had imagined. In his dreams, his father was powerful and vital.

Zach flipped the card over and looked at the hand-written telephone numbers. He’d refused to arrange a future meeting until he’d spoken with his mother. Would acting too friendly with his father make her sad? Even though he was angry with her, Zach hadn’t seriously considered living with his father. His mother needed him. She lost track of time; she wore her wristwatch upside down.

He didn’t know what would happen if she married the cop. And his kid. What would that be like?

Zach remembered begging his mother for a little brother one Christmas. He’d gotten a Nintendo, instead.

He got into bed and turned off the light. If his mom was serious about marrying this cop, Zach would just have to lay down a few rules with the kid. Zach didn’t need a brother anymore. And after eleven years without a father, Zach finally had one. So he definitely didn’t need a stepfather.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“T
HIS IS
Zach’s favorite cookie,” Kris told her great-aunt as she removed a pan of sumptuous-smelling cookies from the old but reliable oven. Kris had come to the bordello to bake. It was easier than trying to find utensils in her still-unpacked boxes.

“Where is the boy this morning?” Ida Jane asked.

Always an early riser, Ida was already awake when Kris arrived at the bordello. The sun was now shining brightly, and the kitchen smelled of warm chocolate and coffee.

“Outside with the dogs. I was going to let him sleep in, but he was up before me.”

Kris handed her aunt a still-warm cookie. “Taste.”

Ida looked particularly dramatic this morning dressed in a purple velour robe; the sunlight filtering through her silvery hair resembled a crown. She took a bite then closed her eyes and made appreciative sounds as she chewed.

“Mmm. It
is
good. Ralph Bascomb at the bakery used to brag about his secret recipe. Wasn’t this
good, though. He died a couple of years ago, you know.”

More like twenty.
Kristin kept the thought to herself.

Ida munched in silence while Kris scraped the last bit of dough from the bowl and added two final globs to the pan.

She leaned over to put the sheet in the oven. The heat wafted over her and she felt a sudden sense of déjà vu.

“Auntie, do you remember when we used to do the dishes together? I’d stand on a chair to wash while you dried? You told me that someday I would be big enough to reach the upper cupboards, but I didn’t believe you. I thought I was going to stay little forever.”

Ida Jane turned her head to stare out the window.

“Kristin was my helper,” Ida said a moment later. Her eyes filled with tears, and she started to cry. “My poor Kristin. She ran away from home, and it was all my fault.”

Baffled by her aunt’s words, Kristin snagged a cotton flour-sack towel off the counter and raced to Ida Jane’s side. “Auntie, what are you talking about? You were never to blame for my going away. I went to Ireland to be a nanny, remember?”

Ida Jane didn’t seem to hear. Her thin shoulders shook as she muttered nonsensically. “Poor little girl. Too sensitive. Like her mother. Needed more love. I was too busy to pay attention, and she ran away.”

Kristin looped her arm around the older woman’s quivering shoulders and offered soothing words of support. “I’m right here, Auntie. I went away, but I came back. And I’m never leaving again. I’m home for good.”

Kristin felt a current of cooler air funnel across her bare ankles and looked toward the doorway. Andi stood frozen, hair a mess, seersucker pajamas wrinkled. “What’s going on?” she mouthed.

Kristin motioned her to enter then spoke to the elderly woman. “Auntie, everything’s going to be just fine. You’ve got your whole family together again. Here’s Andi in her pj’s. She came for milk and cookies. Right, Andi?”

Ida Jane looked up, sniffling. A tentative smile made her lips turn up. “She always showed up when I baked. Nose like a bloodhound.”

Andi snorted delicately. “I beg your pardon. That was Jenny. I hardly ever eat sweets.”

Kristin threw the towel at her. “Liar.”

Andi grinned unabashedly. “What are you doing here so early, sis?” she asked, opening the refrigerator and taking out a carton of milk.

“Most of my kitchenware is still in boxes, so I brought my mess over here. You don’t mind, do you?”

Andi laughed. “Yeah, right, like I’d turn down fresh-baked goods. My husband was twitching in his sleep, and I figure the minute his nose deciphers this aroma, he’ll swoop down like a vulture on fresh roadkill.”

Kristin made a face. “
There’s
a lovely image to help whet the appetite.” She checked the cookies in the oven then faced her sister, who was perched on her usual spot on the counter. “I forgot to ask, how’s the bordello’s historical designation coming? Are you getting anywhere with it?”

“Yup. I’m getting nowhere fast.” Andi ran a hand through her hair. “Even with Sam’s stepfather’s help—Gordon’s been doing a bunch of online research for me—there are gaping holes in our documentation.”

“Like what?”

“Well, according to a couple of the history books, the original house was moved to this parcel from another location. But no one’s quite sure where that was. Or when the move took place.

“Plus, a fire destroyed part of the upstairs at some point, which necessitated remodeling. Then this part of the house—” she made an encompassing motion “—was added as late as 1908 or 1918. I can’t make out the writing.”

She sighed. “No wonder Ida didn’t register the place before this. It’s practically a full-time job, and she was too busy raising us and keeping her business going.”

A sudden bang made all three women start. They looked toward the doorway where a half-awake man—stubble-faced and bleary eyed—stumbled into the room. Barefoot, in a white undershirt and baggy gray sweatpants, he moved like a zombie toward the pile of cookies.

Andi let out a loud sigh. “See what I have to put up with in the morning? Neanderthal man.” Her tone was a mixture of amusement and love. “Quick, give that man coffee.”

Kristin filled a cup and passed it to her brother-in-law who already had crumbs bracketing his lips. “Mmm, good cookies,” he mumbled.

“Thanks. Have a seat.”

Jonathan kissed his wife then gave Ida a hug before sitting down in the chair across from her. “This is a pleasant surprise. I love the smell of cookies in the morning.”

Andi toasted with her glass. “Me, too. When are you going to learn how to bake?”

Jonathan blinked. “Me?”

Kristin and Ida Jane looked at each other and laughed. Kristin felt a pang of regret at having missed moments like this for too long. She really was very glad to be home. No matter what happened with Donnie and Tyler.

Jonathan opened the
San Francisco Chronicle
and said, “There’s an article about pan-Pacific trade. Didn’t you say Tyler just got back from Japan, Kristin?”

“That’s what Jim Rohr told me.”

“Hmm. Smart man. He backed the right horse. There’s money to be made in that direction.”

Kristin refilled everyone’s cup. “Donnie mentioned something the other day that got me thinking. Ida, do you remember hearing about a proposal
to build a bypass around town? Maybe ten or twelve years ago?”

Ida seemed to concentrate. “Yes, I do,” she said, nodding. “They were going to make the highway loop around the edge of town. I was all for the plan until they said they’d have to tear down the bordello to do it, and I told them they could go jump in a lake.”

Jonathan looked intrigued. “You aren’t thinking that’s what Tyler has in mind now, are you, Kris? If the idea didn’t fly a decade ago, it surely wouldn’t be feasible today. The hard costs would be phenomenal.”

“What if you owned most of the land where the new road would go?” she asked.

Andi sat forward. “That intersection at Main and the highway has always been dangerous. I remember Ida telling me that a high-school student was killed at the crosswalk a few years ago. There’s always an ongoing debate about whether or not to install a traffic light. But I haven’t heard any talk at the chamber of commerce about a bypass.”

As Kristin retrieved the remaining cookies from the oven, a thought struck her. If this bypass was indeed Tyler’s plan, he must have started laying the groundwork for it long before he knew about Zach. Would it matter to him that by tearing down the old bordello, he would destroy his son’s heritage?

“So, Kris, when’s the wedding?” Andi asked, changing the subject.

Kristin’s grip on the pan tightened, and she
yelped when the heat soaked through to her thumb. She underhanded the pan to the counter and spun around. “Donnie and I are meeting with the boys today. There’s still a lot to work out.”

“Like what? You love him, don’t you?”

Kristin’s face turned as hot as the oven mitt. “We’re…friends.”

Her sister didn’t look convinced. “You’ve been in love with him since you were kids. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have been on the next flight home if Zach had been Donnie’s.”

Kristin yanked open a drawer to find a spatula. Tears made her grope blindly until her fingers closed around a plastic handle. Instead of a spatula, she pulled out a potato ricer. She stared at it blankly, then let go of both the cookie sheet and the useless utensil and slowly melted to the floor.

Andi was at her side a second later. “I’m sorry, sis. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Kristin hadn’t cried in Andi’s arms for too long to remember. Usually, Jenny was Kristin’s source of comfort, but Jenny wasn’t here.

“It’s gonna be okay, Kris.”

“I did love him, Andi. So much I thought I’d die when he broke up with me. Tyler was a shoulder to cry on and when he kissed me, I told myself, why not? I’ll never love anybody the way I loved Donnie and he’s not interested in me, so why the heck not?”

“I know, honey. I know. Often our worst mis
takes don’t feel like mistakes at the time. We do what feels right, then pay for it later.”

The honesty in her tone got through to Kristin. They looked at each, and Kris felt a deep love for her sister.

“Well, if that’s the way it works, then I definitely
should
marry Donnie. Since it feels like a mistake, maybe everything will turn out okay.” She was striving for lightness, but the tremble in her voice betrayed her.

Ida Jane rose—with a little help from Jonathan. “If there’s going to be a wedding, I need a new dress. Which one of you is taking me shopping?”

She didn’t wait for an answer but shuffled toward the hallway. Her cane had become her faithful companion; its rubber tip made a squeaky sound against the wood floor.

Jonathan refilled his cup, grabbed a handful of cookies then followed her. “Thanks for the cookies, Kris. By the way, I just want you to know that I owe Donnie more than I can ever repay. He stuck with my case when that worthless sheriff, Magnus Brown, was content to let me rot in jail for a crime I didn’t commit. So I plan to do my best to see that Donnie wins this election.” He looked at his wife and grinned. “I’d marry him myself if I thought it would help.”

Andi tossed a dish towel at him. “Go away.”

Once the kitchen was clean and the cookies were bagged, Kris started to leave, but Andi stopped her. “Can we talk a minute?”

Kris checked out the window to make sure Zach was still occupied, then she walked to the table and sat down across from her sister.

Andi nibbled the edge of her cookie for a minute, then said, “You know, Jen and I just want what’s best for you. And Donnie.” She looked at Kris. “You
do
love him, don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Kris answered truthfully. “He told me he still loves me. That he never stopped loving me.”

Andi brightened. “That’s good. Isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.”
How can he love me? He doesn’t even know me.

“You don’t believe him?”

“I don’t know.”

Andi let out a familiar snarl. “If you say that again, I’m going to hit you.”

Kris stood up suddenly. “That’s just it, Andi, I don’t know anything. I never did. I thought I loved Donnie and he loved me, but look what happened.”

“That was a long time ago, Kris.”

“But I’m still me, Andi. I make mistakes. I can’t balance my checkbook. I lose track of time and I’m always late. My eleven-year-old son is smarter than me. I’m…dumb.”

Andi shot to her feet and grabbed Kristin by the shoulders. “No, you’re not. Don’t say that.”

Kris couldn’t meet her eyes. “I’ve always known it. Everyone’s known it. Remember when Ida took me for special testing?”

Andi dropped her hands and stepped back. “That
didn’t prove anything. You learn differently. You passed all your classes.”

“With help. Jenny wrote half my papers. You tutored me in math.” Kristin paced to the sink and looked into the backyard where her son was playing tug-of-war with Harley. “Ask anyone, Andi, and they’ll tell you. Kristin Sullivan is sweet, but not too bright. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t want to come back.”

She turned around. “When I lived in other places, it took a while for people to catch on. I’m pretty good at faking it.”

Andi looked close to tears. “Oh, God, is that true? You really think you’re not smart? Is that why you were willing to marry Donnie when it was just a temporary arrangement, but now you’re not?”

Kris sighed. She felt overwhelmed and so far out of her league she wanted to run away. But she knew that wasn’t going to work this time. “I could be his housekeeper and care for his child; I’m a good mother, Andi. But Donnie deserves so much more than…me.”

Andi took in a deep breath and slowly marched toward Kristin. Kris knew that look. She swallowed as her sister began to speak. “Let’s get something straight. I’m no Rhodes scholar, but I know this much. You and Donnie have loved each other since you were kids. You’ve both made mistakes. So what? You’re human. Get over it.”

Kris bit down on her inner cheek to keep from smiling.

“This town is facing some big changes. That bypass you mentioned is just the tip of the iceburg. People are moving out of the valley and Gold Creek is right in their path. We need enlightened leadership. Magnus Brown is old-school. He’s entrenched power. He won’t give up easily, and Donnie doesn’t stand a chance unless he has all his ducks in a row.”

Kris shifted uneasily. She’d heard some of this last night, but hadn’t been paying attention. “I know it won’t be easy, Andi, but you’re dreaming if you think I’ll be any help to him. My reputation…”

Andi cut her off. “You’re a Sullivan triplet, Kristin. The town loves you. And you love Donnie. I know you do.”

“We haven’t even kissed, Andi.” Kris ducked her head to hide her embarrassment. “The other night, he wouldn’t even let me give him a massage.”

Her sister chortled. “Good Lord, the man is slipping. So, go seduce him. See if the spark is still there. You definitely don’t want to marry a man with no sparks.”

Kristin had always admired her sister’s ability to cut to the chase, but she couldn’t picture herself seducing Donnie to see if they were still compatible in bed. “His house? My house? Children present?”

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