The Single Dad's Patchwork Family. Claire Baxter
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Regan nodded. ‘Poor Pop. He thinks that seeing a doctor is the beginning of the end.’
‘I know, but we have to find out what’s going on. There might be a simple treatment that will prevent him getting worse.’
Her mother tucked a nightdress into the edge of the suitcase and flipped the lid closed. While she fiddled with the zip, Regan rubbed her forehead. She had to remember to take some headache tablets before leaving.
‘Give him my love, won’t you? And take care of yourself, too.’
Her mother nodded.
Regan went to pack a bag of her own, stuffing it with towels, sunscreen and extra clothes for Will and Cory. She would miss her mum while she was away, but Regan knew that their relationship was not a close one and never had been. She knew her mother loved her, and she adored the boys, but Regan had always been aware, growing up, that her parents were busy making the business a success. She appreciated all their hard work now, but it left her feeling a little sad at times, as if she’d missed out on something special.
Still, she was grateful for what they did have and she knew that many people had a lot less. Her mind drifted to little Phoebe, whose mother had died to give her life…
She changed into a loose dress and, after loading the boys into her car along with all the things they wanted to take, she drove to the office.
Sue, Regan’s secretary, smiled at Will and Cory as she took a pile of paperwork from Regan.
‘I’ll be in the office next week, Sue. And I’ll call you before then to make sure there are no problems.’
‘Sure. So where are you all off to?’ she asked. ‘Looks like you’re dressed for the beach.’
Cory nodded. ‘Where did you say it was, Mum?’
‘We’re going to Leo Bay,’ Regan mumbled. ‘Have a good weekend, Sue.’
‘You, too.’
Regan was fond of Sue but she didn’t want to tell her about Chase. Sue had stuck by Regan and the business through the difficult time after Jack had left. She’d earned the right to be a little nosy and was more a friend than an employee, but Regan knew that if she even hinted that there was a new man in her life, the news that she was dating would spread through the business faster than fire through the bush.
After leaving the office, Regan went to the shops to find a plain sponge cake, bought candles, icing sugar and food colouring and then they were ready to leave.
CHAPTER THREE
REGAN only had a vague memory of a day trip to Leo Bay as a child. Her father had never taken time off work for holidays and her mother would go nowhere without him so a very limited number of day trips was all they’d managed.
The boys chattered in the back of the car and she somehow managed to answer their questions, whilst her concentration was divided between following the unfamiliar road and thinking about Chase.
This was so out of character for her, she had to wonder whether she was losing her mind. She didn’t date.
But she wasn’t dating, she reminded herself. She glanced at the cake resting safely on the passenger seat. She was saving a little girl from disappointment and doing a favour for a friend. That wasn’t unusual, so what was the problem?
Besides, the boys would be sad if they turned back now. They didn’t have many days out, either. Not as many as she’d like. She did her best but she had a busy schedule. She really must put aside some time for a proper holiday this year. They all deserved it.
Anyway, if she felt uncomfortable with Chase at the end of the day, she could simply walk away and never see him again. What did she have to lose?
She slowed the car as they approached a few scattered houses.
‘Are we there, Mum?’
‘Nearly.’
They reached the end of the road and the bay opened out before them. She braked, awed for a moment by the crescent-shaped sweep of white sand edging turquoise water. Low dunes stretched to the left and right and curved into sandy headlands at each end of the bay, enclosing and framing the perfect picture.
Recalling Chase’s directions, Regan turned the car to the right and headed along the dusty road behind the dunes. Houses were built on the inland side of the road only. Chase’s was the fourth and last house and had been constructed on timber posts which, Regan guessed, gave it a great view across the dunes to the ocean.
She pulled the car on to the sparse gravel frontage and stepped out of it, her eyes on the sky-blue weatherboard building. It was a beach shack, exactly as he’d said. She’d had a random thought that he might have downplayed its description and she’d find a sprawling, contemporary holiday home. But no, it was a shack, complete with paint that was peeling in places from the salt air, fishing rods on the front veranda and drifts of sand at the end of each step.
She was acutely aware that butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach, yet she did much scarier things than this all the time. This was nothing compared with her first meeting with angry, disappointed customers when she’d taken over the business. And that was only one example of what she’d learned to deal with on a daily basis. Not that she allowed customers to be let down now that she had the business under control, but still, there was always some demand on her courage.
This, though, had taken on a significance out of all proportion to what it was—a simple visit.
The boys were scrambling to get out of the car and she tore her gaze away from the house to organise them, giving Will the bag to carry and Cory the bodyboards, before reaching into the front seat for the cake. As she closed the car door, the house door opened and Chase strolled out on to the porch.
But this was a very different Chase from the one she’d encountered at the cocktail party. For an instant, she wondered if she’d have given him a second glance if he’d been in board shorts and T-shirt with bare feet when she’d met him.
But then he smiled at her and something deep inside her twisted. Was seeing a friend supposed to feel like this?
His clothes were irrelevant. It was something about him that made her straighten her spine and take notice, that made her nerve-endings tingle and her muscles contract.
She hadn’t given a man so much as a glance since her divorce but this man had her looking.
But look was all she would do. And talk. He’d been so easy to talk to at dinner she’d found herself sharing information about herself she wouldn’t normally give away to anybody.
Since Jack’s desertion, she’d been absolutely certain that she’d never be able to trust a man again. If the one who’d loved her as deeply as she’d believed Jack had loved her could walk out of her life without a backward glance, how could she trust anybody else?
She and Jack had fallen in love the day they’d met, had been married within months, and he’d promised to love her for ever. When she’d had two babies in quick succession, she’d thought they were living the dream,