Read Online Finding Home by Irene Hannon - Free Book Online Page B

doesn’t believe it. Or doesn’t choose to believe it. She’s decided she’s going to end her days at Seaside Gardens, and the sooner the better. She doesn’t even ask about Toby anymore. It’s as if she’s already said goodbye in her mind. Once Gramp died, a lot of the spirit went out of her.”
    Cindy played with her hash browns. “That can happen. I lost my husband fifteen months ago. I know what she’s going through.”
    “Jarrod mentioned that. I’m sorry. He said it was a heart attack?”
    Her son had talked about his father to a stranger? That was a rarity. The two of them must have really clicked.
    “Yes. He was an international business consultant. It happened on an overseas flight. The captain made an emergency landing as soon as he reached land, but Steve was already gone.” Cindy took a sip of her juice, her hand steadier than she expected. “Jarrod had a tough time for a while. I took him to counseling for months, but his grades continued to slip and he became very withdrawn. We finally got past that, but I’m afraid last night’s events might bring back the bad dreams and clinginess. Me working longer hours isn’t going to help either.” She forked another bite of sausage, but her appetite had diminished.
    “Jarrod mentioned that, too.” Scott lifted his mug and leaned back in his chair. “Sounds like you have a busy job. He said it was a museum of some sort?”
    “The Humboldt County Historical Society. I went back to work about a year ago. I used to work at a museum in Dallas, but I quit after Jarrod was born. Steve and I agreed that a parent should be a child’s primary caregiver if at all possible. A few years later we moved to Starfish Bay, where his parents lived, because we thought it would be a better environment in which to raise a child. And Steve’s work was portable.”
    “Admirable choices.”
    Some nuance in Scott’s inflection intrigued her, but when he offered nothing more, she continued.
    “Anyway, not only are we shorthanded at the museum, I was also just promoted. It’s a nice bump in salary, but now I’ve got three weeks to come up with a blockbuster theme for the centerpiece exhibit that kicks off the society’s annual fundraising drive. I have no idea how I’m going to manage that.” She took a deep breath and finished off the last sausage. After Scott’s effort to prepare a nice breakfast, she wasn’t going to insult him by leaving any of it. “But we were talking about your grandmother. Is there some hobby or interest that might tempt her to reinvest in life?”
    “She used to love to paint.” He gestured toward the living room. “All the impressionist-style pieces in the house are hers, but she gave that up after Gramp died, long before she broke her hip. She used to love Toby, too, and I even took him to see her once, in the garden where pets are allowed. I hoped that would give her an incentive to get well, but I think it had the opposite effect. She told me not to bring him anymore.” His eyes clouded briefly, then cleared as he gave her a smile that seemed forced. “On a brighter note, the fog’s lifted. I’d be glad to take you back to Starfish Bay.”
    “We’ve already overstepped the bounds of hospitality. I called a friend last night after we got here and arranged for a ride home. But thank you.” She checked her watch and stood, fingertips pressed to the polished pine to steady herself. “I’d better round up Jarrod.”
    “I’ll take care of it.” He crossed to the back door, pulled it open and called out to her son.
    Ten seconds later Jarrod zoomed inside. “Are we leaving, Mom?”
    “In a few minutes. Let’s go make sure we haven’t let anything in the bedroom, okay?”
    “Okay.” He turned toward their host. “Thanks for letting me play with Toby. And for dinner. And breakfast.”
    “It was my pleasure.” Scott’s gaze connected with hers as he responded to her son.
    Once again, something electric zipped between