Always a Hero. Justine Davis
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Apparently so, she thought, humor sparking at last, since she’d been thinking about that rancorous encounter for nearly a week now.
… only trying to keep the boy out of trouble.
She lifted herself up on an elbow, remembering Jordy saying with all his thirteen-year-old determination, “He wants me to do sports or something, and I won’t. I don’t want to do anything he says.”
An idea stirred. She lay there, considering, turning it over and around in her mind.
It might work, she thought. It just might work.
And if it didn’t, they’d be right where they were now, except Jordy’s father would likely be even angrier at her.
But at least this time she would have done something to deserve it. Meddling, her mother would call it.
But then, her mother had also said that sometimes meddling wasn’t all bad.
Decided now, she put her head back down on the pillow. And sleep, as if it had been waiting for a decision, came quickly.
Chapter 6
Saturday morning dawned clear and crisp. Good for a walk, Kai told herself. It would soon be time to break out her beloved shearling jacket and boots, and that made her smile. Maybe she’d learn to knit this winter, so she could make some of those cool beanies and watch caps she loved.
So, she thought, I’m in such a good mood, what better to do than destroy it?
She grabbed the DVD that was the pretext she’d come up with, and trotted downstairs. She pulled on the medium-weight jacket that hung by the back door, stuffed the DVD case in the pocket and stepped outside. She locked up behind her and started west. From Jordy she knew they were living in his grandparent’s old home at the far end of Madrona Street, and that they were both dead. That fact was meaningless to Jordy, since he’d never known his father, let alone his father’s parents.
It was only about a half a mile, nice for a walk on a brisk fall day. She’d have time to get there and back, since she didn’t open the store until noon on Saturdays. And since it was in an area she hadn’t perused much, she was looking forward to it. The walk part, anyway.
She hummed under her breath as she went, pleased that it didn’t bother her overmuch when she realized it was the last song Kit had written. She smiled and waved at people who went by if she knew them, leaving it at a smile if she didn’t. She did a lot of waving. She’d gone out of her way to meet as many people as she could when she’d come here, not just for business reasons. She’d had some idea in her head that the small town might close ranks against the outsider. But instead they’d welcomed her, been thrilled that their little town was going to have a music store, and she’d slid into a comfortable place here more quickly than she’d ever imagined possible.
So, was she about to mess with that, too? Wyatt Blake was one of their own; after all, he’d grown up here. Would they suddenly decide she was an interloper if she started interfering in his life?
She shook her head, nearly laughing out loud at herself. If that’s all it took, then her place here wasn’t as comfortable as she thought it was.
She glanced at her watch, saw that it was after nine now. Her mom liked to sleep in on Sundays, and given the dynamo she was the rest of the week, no one was likely to argue with her. She pulled out her cell phone and made the call she’d been meaning to make for days now.
Her mother never chided her for not calling often enough, which actually made her call more often than her busy life conveniently allowed. Her mother, Kai thought for at least the millionth time, was a very smart woman.
After the usual catching up, and the pleasant news that her father was feeling so much better after knee surgery a few months ago that he’d gone fishing with some friends, Kai asked the question she’d been pondering.
“Do you think someone who’s never had kids can ever have good ideas about raising them?”
“Of course,” her mother said, “if they ever were one.”
Kai laughed. “Did anybody who’d never had them ever tell you what you should do with me?”
“I seem to recall your Uncle Brad having an opinion or two on the matter.”
She laughed again at her mother’s dry tone; her Uncle Brad Reynolds, her father’s brother, made Wyatt Blake look like an overly lenient pushover.
“I always had the feeling Uncle Brad thought kids shouldn’t just be seen and not heard, they shouldn’t be.”
“He would be much more comfortable with them if they were born adults,” her mother agreed.
“Thanks for keeping him at a distance for me.”
“In my job description,” her mother said with a laugh. “Now, you want to tell me what brought this on?”
“Just a kid who’s been hanging around the store. He’s having trouble with his dad.”
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