doesnât recognize me, and those cousins . . .
Not to mention the ghosts, which probably now include Grandaddyâs.
If she says all that to Royce, heâll undoubtedly feel even more guilty than he already does. Heâll quite possibly change his mind about leaving.
But whining to get oneâs way is a most unattractive characteristic, as Charlotteâs mother liked to remind her.
Thereâs nothing to do but hold her breath and let go.
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This deserted stretch of beach is in a cove that lies, mercifully, a few miles north of the public beach where both Adam and Theo drowned.
But as Lianna watches Kevin spread out a blanket, itâs all she can do to keep her feet firmly rooted in the sand.
Listening to the surf, breathing the warm salt breeze, itâs all coming back.
âThirsty?â Kevin asks, looking up as he pulls something from the backpack he was toting.
About to say No , and Please take me home, Lianna realizes what it is.
A bottle of wine.
She and her friends have snuck enough tastes from their parentsâ liquor supplies in the past year for Lianna to recognize a fortuitous escape route when she sees one.
âIâll have a sip,â she hears herself say, as she sinks onto the blanket beside a smiling Kevin.
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âDid you remember to put that leftover potato salad into the bag with your sandwich?â Mimi asks as, Cam in tow, she follows Jed to the tiny kitchen with its cracked linoleum, warped cupboard doors, and scratched laminate countertops.
âNo, but I donât want it.â
âAre you sure?â
âPositive. My stomachâs a little queasy tonight.â
âAgain?â
âNot too bad. But I canât go around eating all that potato salad anyway. Iâm getting a gut, see?â Jed pats his stomach.
âWhere?â
âThere.â He pinches an imaginary inch.
She shakes her head. âI donât see a gut, but even if you had one, Iâd think itâs cute.â
âReally? Then keep making potato salad and those homemade biscuits you gave me yesterday. By Christmas Iâll look like Santa.â He leans in and plants a kiss on her cheek as she pours milk into a sippy cup for Cam.
âDaddy, is it Christmas? Is Santa coming?â the little boy asks as his father swings him up into his arms.
âNot for six more months, and only if youâre good,â Jed tells him. âWhich means no more flushing things down the potty.â
âWhat about pee pee?â
âPee pee, yes. Anything else, no.â
âWhat aboutââ
âHey, youâre about to sabotage the potty training, Jed,â Mimi warns, taking Cameron from him with a laugh.
âJust trying to prevent having the plumber here twice in one week,â he says, retrieving his brown paper bag lunch from the fridge and heading for the back door. âSee you all in the morning.â
âBe safe,â Mimi calls after him, same as always.
âDonât worry,â he replies, same as always, before he closes the door.
But she does worry. She canât help it. Safely sheltered in their cozy, two-bedroom canal-side home every night after dark, she doesnât like to think of him out there working on the damaged bridge under the glare of construction spotlights.
So many things can happen. There are deadly gators and poisonous snakes in the surrounding marshland, not to mention heavy equipment that can malfunction or tip and crush a person. Jedâs seen that happen, and worse, in his decade as a construction worker. But he stopped telling her horror stories early on, realizing that what might entertain a casual girlfriend could scare off a potential wife.
Mimi canât bear the thought of anything happening to Jed. Heâs her whole worldâhe and Cameron.
Nor does she like to think about how close she once came to losing both of them.
But Jed doesnât know about that,
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