Read Online Summer Breeze by Catherine Palmer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Catherine Palmer
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spoke over his shoulder. “All I’m saying is, Luke will be fine. Don’t worry.”
The door closed behind him, and Kim walked to the front of the building to lock up. Was it really possible to be a diabetic and still have a full, happy life? Ben and Mary Groene had enjoyed a long marriage. They had six healthy children. They lived on the lakeshore in a large, beautiful home. Their oldest daughter attended Yale University.
As she settled into her car and drove toward Deepwater Cove, Kim reflected on the serenity with which Dr. Groene conducted his life. Everything went like clockwork at the office. She had always thought that was simply a reflection of his tranquil personality and the calm demeanor of the staff he had hired. But maybe he had taught himself to be orderly and careful so he could keep his blood sugar levels regulated. “If you’ve got to be a diabetic, be a good one,” he had told her. Ben Groene must be among the best.
As she pulled into the driveway of the Finley house, Kim realized that her employer had given her the advice she’d been looking for ever since the endocrinologist had uttered Luke’s frightening diagnosis.
Order, she thought. Serenity . Peace . Pondering how she could implement this atmosphere at home, Kim was stepping out of the car when the front door flew open. Lydia hurtled through it, with Derek in hot pursuit.
“No way!” Lydia screamed at him as she tore across the porch and into the yard. “I won’t! I will not take it off, and you can’t make me!”
“Get back here, Lydia!” Derek caught up to the girl in a matter of seconds. With one arm, he snagged her around the waist. His knee gently knocked her feet out from under her, and she slumped backward onto the grass.
“You can’t do this!” she shrieked as he stood above her, hands at his waist. “You’re not my real father! You have no power over me. Let me go, you jerk!”
“Lydia!” Kim cried out, rushing toward them. “Derek, what’s going on?”
“Get up, kid,” Derek barked in a tone Kim had never heard. His forehead furrowed, he glanced at his wife. Then he turned back to the skinny girl writhing on the lawn. “I said— get up ! Now!”
“Ow! He hurt me!” Lydia hollered as she curled into a ball. “I’m calling the police! I’m calling the child-abuse hotline!”
“What on earth—?” Kim dropped her purse and fell to her knees. Memories of her first husband flooded Kim’s mind. She had been thrown across a room, knocked onto a couch, slapped on the cheek so hard her ears rang.
“Lydia, are you all right?” she asked, gathering her daughter in her arms. “Sweetie, what are you doing? What happened?”
“ He did it!” Lydia spat. “He said I had to … to …”
Fear filling her heart, Kim stared up at Derek. “What did you do to my daughter?”
Wearing his Water Patrol uniform, Derek stood over them. Kim was taken aback by the fury in his eyes. Her husband never got angry. Part of what had drawn her to the man was his composure, his detachment even in the midst of crisis. But now she feared he might whip out his baton or even his gun—as he had the other night when he’d thought there was an intruder in the living room.
“Take a look at your daughter,” Derek said. “Then ask her what happened.”
Kim’s focus shifted to Lydia. Dark smudges of mascara streaked toward her temples. Deep blue eye shadow stained her lids. A thick layer of foundation ended at her jawline, as though she were wearing a mask. Two spots of bright pink on her cheeks matched the glossy sheen on her pouting lips.
Stepping out of the painful memory of her own past, Kim was suddenly able to see her daughter’s face. Her fear turned to confusion. “Lydia, why are you wearing my makeup?”
“It’s not yours. It’s mine. I bought it with my allowance, and I have the right to wear it.”
“But you’re only ten years old, honey,” Kim said in dismay. “You don’t wear makeup.”
“I’m
The door closed behind him, and Kim walked to the front of the building to lock up. Was it really possible to be a diabetic and still have a full, happy life? Ben and Mary Groene had enjoyed a long marriage. They had six healthy children. They lived on the lakeshore in a large, beautiful home. Their oldest daughter attended Yale University.
As she settled into her car and drove toward Deepwater Cove, Kim reflected on the serenity with which Dr. Groene conducted his life. Everything went like clockwork at the office. She had always thought that was simply a reflection of his tranquil personality and the calm demeanor of the staff he had hired. But maybe he had taught himself to be orderly and careful so he could keep his blood sugar levels regulated. “If you’ve got to be a diabetic, be a good one,” he had told her. Ben Groene must be among the best.
As she pulled into the driveway of the Finley house, Kim realized that her employer had given her the advice she’d been looking for ever since the endocrinologist had uttered Luke’s frightening diagnosis.
Order, she thought. Serenity . Peace . Pondering how she could implement this atmosphere at home, Kim was stepping out of the car when the front door flew open. Lydia hurtled through it, with Derek in hot pursuit.
“No way!” Lydia screamed at him as she tore across the porch and into the yard. “I won’t! I will not take it off, and you can’t make me!”
“Get back here, Lydia!” Derek caught up to the girl in a matter of seconds. With one arm, he snagged her around the waist. His knee gently knocked her feet out from under her, and she slumped backward onto the grass.
“You can’t do this!” she shrieked as he stood above her, hands at his waist. “You’re not my real father! You have no power over me. Let me go, you jerk!”
“Lydia!” Kim cried out, rushing toward them. “Derek, what’s going on?”
“Get up, kid,” Derek barked in a tone Kim had never heard. His forehead furrowed, he glanced at his wife. Then he turned back to the skinny girl writhing on the lawn. “I said— get up ! Now!”
“Ow! He hurt me!” Lydia hollered as she curled into a ball. “I’m calling the police! I’m calling the child-abuse hotline!”
“What on earth—?” Kim dropped her purse and fell to her knees. Memories of her first husband flooded Kim’s mind. She had been thrown across a room, knocked onto a couch, slapped on the cheek so hard her ears rang.
“Lydia, are you all right?” she asked, gathering her daughter in her arms. “Sweetie, what are you doing? What happened?”
“ He did it!” Lydia spat. “He said I had to … to …”
Fear filling her heart, Kim stared up at Derek. “What did you do to my daughter?”
Wearing his Water Patrol uniform, Derek stood over them. Kim was taken aback by the fury in his eyes. Her husband never got angry. Part of what had drawn her to the man was his composure, his detachment even in the midst of crisis. But now she feared he might whip out his baton or even his gun—as he had the other night when he’d thought there was an intruder in the living room.
“Take a look at your daughter,” Derek said. “Then ask her what happened.”
Kim’s focus shifted to Lydia. Dark smudges of mascara streaked toward her temples. Deep blue eye shadow stained her lids. A thick layer of foundation ended at her jawline, as though she were wearing a mask. Two spots of bright pink on her cheeks matched the glossy sheen on her pouting lips.
Stepping out of the painful memory of her own past, Kim was suddenly able to see her daughter’s face. Her fear turned to confusion. “Lydia, why are you wearing my makeup?”
“It’s not yours. It’s mine. I bought it with my allowance, and I have the right to wear it.”
“But you’re only ten years old, honey,” Kim said in dismay. “You don’t wear makeup.”
“I’m
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