Surprise Dad

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harried in spite of the fact that customers waited at the door, others had a finger lifted for more coffee, dessert, their check. “What’ll we have here?”
    They gave her their order. “How’re things going?” Allie whispered to Colleen, “without Mike.”
    “We don’t even miss him,” Colleen said as if she were reading from cue cards, then dashed to the kitchen like a rabbit on wheels.
    “She’s lying,” Allie said. “They miss him.”
    “I bet it killed him to leave,” Lilah said. “He was pretty sad last night. I could tell when he called.”
    “I’m sure he was. The funeral of an old friend is always difficult.”
    “Not that Mike would come right out with his feelings. You know how he is.”
    Allie wasn’t at all sure she knew Mike. Or Mike’s brothers Daniel and Ian. She’d always sensed something secretive about them. They were so different. Mike with his reddish-brown hair and green eyes, Daniel so blond, and Ian, dark inside and out. More than that, their personalities were equally different, Mike so gregarious and funny, Ian so brooding, Daniel so sweet and caring.
    For some reason, she suspected there was more to Mike’s attending the funeral than met the eye, but she didn’t know Lilah well enough to say so. Instead, she changed the subject. “I’m already having a good time working on the benefit,” she told Lilah. “Mike’s dreamed up a terrific menu, surprise, surprise, and I’m working on a color scheme.” She reached into her handbag and brought out a folder. “I want it to be just perfect. Here are some samples…”
    Throughout the lunch, she and Lilah discussed details and specifics of the fundraiser, but they also had fun. Lilah was easy to talk to and had a wicked sense of humor.
    When she said goodbye, Allie felt happy. Her move back to the valley was shaping up nicely. She had a salary coming in, a place to stay, and a volunteer job for as worthwhile a cause as there could possibly be.
     
    O N HIS WAY to Boston, Mike observed the rules of the road, knowing he was tired and upset. During the entire trip, he brooded over the reasons his father might have had for writing this bizarre clause in his will, leaving his son in Mike’s care. It didn’t make any sense.
    Driving in Boston didn’t leave much room for thought. He navigated rotaries, one-way streets and sardine-can traffic and at last made it to the funeral home where his father would be honored. Remembered, anyway. Mike couldn’t wait to see if anyone honored the old man.
    After he parked in an overpriced garage, he put on his suit jacket and, properly somber-looking, entered the Sisters of Light Chapel of Rest prepared for anything except the possibility of missing a good night’s sleep atthe Boston Inn, where he’d booked a room at a price that staggered him.
    He resented every dollar he’d spent on this trip, obeying the last command of a father who’d disowned him. His mother’s dollars had opened the diner. She, at least, had realized at last that he wasn’t the bad seed, just a kid too long neglected, a kid who’d been given his freedom too early, before he’d had time to sort out what that freedom could do for him in a positive way.
    So freedom and reckless behavior had been one and the same to him until the night he stole his father’s car and crashed it through the plate-glass window of a local shop, and for the first time in his history of petty crimes, his father didn’t bail him out. That’s when he went to the correctional facility, which was the best thing that had ever happened to him, because he’d met Ian and Daniel there.
    He entered the chapel, then halted when he saw the two closed caskets. Evan Howard had lived a life Mike knew nothing about. Maybe he’d changed. Maybe this new wife had been a gracious, warm and loving woman who’d convinced his father to forgive his prodigal son.
    He’d never know.
    He recognized no one at the funeral, but he hadn’t expected to. He sat

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