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Page 66
Page 66
“Romper,” Emily added, setting down his coffee, standing behind him to rub his knotted shoulders.
“Well, she’s romping in it, and now she’s bouncing on Darby’s shoulders out there, happy as ten puppies in a pile. It made me think those kids—no fault of theirs—but those kids, whoever’s doing my job in fifteen, twenty years? They’re going to lock those kids up. That’s the odds they got.”
“Some beat the odds,” Zane said.
“Yeah, that’s true. Best to remember some do.”
Leaning over, Emily kissed his cheek. “You go on out there, play with your granddaughter. Zane and I can finish these.”
“No, I’m fine here. Peeling eggs, it’s mindless. I could use some of that.” He reached back to pat Emily’s hand, looked over at Zane.
“You’re a good man, Zane. I want to say that to you in case I haven’t recently. You suck at peeling eggs, no question about it, but you’re a good man. Now, if I were you, I’d leave these to me, and I’d go out there to that long-legged woman, help her string lights, and give another shot at smooth-talking her into moving in here with you.”
“Don’t have to. She’ll be moving in tomorrow.”
Emily squealed, not unlike Audra, then wrapped her hands around Zane’s throat as if to choke him. “I’ve been here more than an hour, and you’re just telling me?”
“I’ve been concentrating pretty fiercely on peeling these eggs.”
“You.” Now she lightly swatted the side of his head. “Get out. Get those lights up, then you make sure your cousins have the rest of the tables set where they’re supposed to be.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He escaped.
“Damn it, my potatoes,” she remembered, and dashed to take the pot off the stove.
“It’s been a hard morning,” Lee began.
Steady, Emily poured the boiled potatoes and water into the colander in the sink. “I know it.”
“But that? It sure pushed away a lot of the hard.”
She looked through the steam, through the window over the sink, out to where Zane plucked Audra off Darby’s shoulders and settled her on his own.
“Our boy’s happy, Lee. I worried about him more than Britt—he shouldered so much. But he’s happy. And that girl? They fit. Seeing they do, it settles something in me. I see Gabe out there throwing a ball for the dogs and Brody shaking his head and laughing. It all settles something in me.”
“We did good work, Em.”
She glanced over with a smile. “Don’t feel I’m done yet, but yeah, so far, some pretty damn good work.”
* * *
A few hours later, Zane figured he’d rather have a good, solid nap instead of hosting a party. He’d hauled tables, chairs, climbed up and down ladders, carted out huge coolers of lemonade, iced tea, galvanized tubs to fill with ice and beer and wine.
Every time he thought he could have a beer break, grab a shower, someone—usually female—gave him another chore.
Before he knew it, the band Emily insisted on arrived, started setting up equipment on the platform Lee and his boys had built.
“Zane, you need to set out those new trash cans.” Busy filling colorful tubs with silly little prizes, Britt called out to him before he could sneak away. “With the liners! Brody, have you finished the signs?”
“Almost!” Brody, the only one of them possessing any semblance of artistic talent, sat working on a sign to indicate cans and bottles, others for the age-grouping of the prizes.
Zane set out the new trash cans, stowed extra bags in the bottom as Emily had taught him, opened two to line the cans.
Determined to get that beer and shower before somebody found something else for him to do, he headed for the kitchen doors.
Darby walked out.
She wore one of those sundresses that made men grateful for hot, sunny days. He wasn’t sure he’d known she owned a dress, much less a bold yellow one with skinny straps that showed off strong shoulders, a swirly skirt that floated around long, bare legs.
She wore the pendant he’d given her, little dangles in her ears.
And she’d fussed with her face—especially her eyes so they looked long and sexy and read violet.
“Well, look at you.”
“You’d better, as I spent some time getting on my summer picnic.”
“We should have one every week.”
Then she capped it by handing him a cold beer. “You’re dismissed to get yourself ready.”
“Praise Jesus.” But he cupped the back of her neck first, drew her in for a kiss. “However long it took, so worth it. I need to take you to a fancy dinner in Asheville.”
“How about we take each other out?”
“Works for me.”
Since he had to get by Emily and Britt—both putting food together and talking cheerfully about just that—he moved fast and quiet.
It didn’t take him long, a quick shower, a fresh shirt and jeans, a pair of black Chucks. When he opened his terrace doors, he heard a guitar, heard his family, so stepped out for a minute.
His younger cousin played—courtesy of one of the band. And Brody looked wildly happy as others took up instruments, picked up the tune.
All three dogs, worn out from the afternoon, slept in the shade. Audra in her red-and-white-striped romper and blue hair ribbon clapped at the music.
Despite all his misgivings at the size and scope, he realized it all looked just fine. Just absolutely fine, with the red, white, and blue covered tables, the white awnings casting shade, the stacks of matching plates and napkins and cups.
Too early for the lights, he thought, but that was going to look just fine, too.
Darby’s clever beanbag boards stood colorfully on the lawn, as did a bigger one for softball pitching designed for older kids.
Music rang out, the sun shined, and his lady wore a yellow dress.
Yeah, he decided, it all looked just fine.
* * *
It felt fine, smelled fine, sounded fine when he manned the smoking grill and dozens of people swarmed his yard and house.
Dogs, revived, wandered the crowd hoping for a handout. Beanbags slapped against painted plywood. He got hugs, backslaps, cheek kisses as he flipped burgers and dogs onto platters. He smelled fried chicken and hoped he wouldn’t be too late to get himself some.
“Good party.” Silas strolled over to him. “Dave’s gonna take over for you for a minute.”
He caught the look in his brother-in-law’s eyes, turned. “I hereby pass the ceremonial flipper and tongs.”
“Got it covered,” Dave told him, handed him a beer.
“How ’bout we take a little walk.” With a glass of cold sweet tea, as he considered himself still on duty, Silas led the way around the far side of the house.
“What’s up?”
“Just heard from Lee. The Drapers got back—without Clint. They’re claiming he went off with some friends on a fishing trip yesterday. The usual bullshit about how Traci’s a liar, probably banged herself up to make Clint look bad.”
“What friends?”
“That’s the next thing. How the hell are they supposed to know? He’s a grown man, can come and go as he pleases. We’re figuring he got wind, tapped one of his drinking buddies to meet him, and he’s hiding out.”
Silas glanced back, making sure they were out of earshot. “Lee said they had long guns, no fishing gear. Claim they stowed the gear back by the stream, which is bullshit, and had the shotguns for protection.
“They gave Lee plenty of grief, plenty of sass, but you know the chief, he handles it. We’ll rotate out again, keep a lookout, but Clint’s likely to stay low for a day or two.”
“He can’t hide forever, and Traci’s safe.” That, Zane thought, had to be good enough for now. “I’ll draft up divorce papers tomorrow, go in to see her, let her look them over, explain what she needs to do now that she’s had some time.”
“Hope to hell she doesn’t back off again. Well. You oughta get yourself some food, son. Enjoy your own party.”
“I’ll do that. You keep me updated. The sooner Draper’s locked up, the better.”
She’d be afraid, Zane thought as they rounded the house again. Traci would stay afraid until he was. And fear, he knew, either made you fight back or give up.
Still, he had to put it away for now. He had more than a hundred people eating, talking, playing. He managed to snag a drumstick before he grazed the food tables, piling his plate.
“Try that tortellini salad.” Ashley sidled up beside him. “Nathan made it, and you won’t be sorry.”
“Didn’t know you were here.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek.
“Haven’t been here long. And the minute we showed up, my parents confiscated my kids. This is an amazing house, Zane, and the grounds—wow! I need to make friends with Darby.”
“She makes them pretty easy, which is why I haven’t seen her for a while.”
“Over there, helping run the kids’ games.”
He glanced around as he scooped up some of the tortellini, watched Darby cheer on a little girl at the softball throw.
Ashley tipped her head toward his shoulder. “Not a woman in the world who doesn’t want someone to look at her like you’re looking at Darby. Does she know you’re in love with her?”
“Yeah. Shows, huh?”