her friend Dixie gave it to her.”
“Which implies Dixie did take it in the first place.”
“Dixie didn’t want it anymore, she said. That’s what I’m supposed to believe.”
Her blue-gray eyes searched his gaze. “You don’t?”
“I can usually tell when she’s lying.”
“And that’s common?”
“Never used to be,” he said and backed up a step. “But ever since her mother...” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Ever since her mom packed up and left...yes, Amanda sometimes lies.” He shook his head. “Not that I’m supposed to notice.”
“Let me guess. You let her off the hook—and decided to return the watch yourself.”
Griffin fell back on his usual rationale. “I know she misses Rachel. So does Josh, but he was pretty young when she took off. He doesn’t have the same store of memories Mandi does.”
Sunny shook her head. “I’m not buying it.”
“What?”
“Listen to yourself. You’re making excuses for Amanda. Again.”
“Look, Counselor, all I can say is I’m sorry.” He held out the watch, then waited for her to take it. She didn’t touch him when she did.
Sunny’s eyes chilled another few degrees. “You’re sorry? What did you do—except throw me out of your apartment yesterday? I’d like to hear an apology from Amanda. She should take responsibility.”
He frowned, inching backward again. “You have your watch back.”
“Yes. But for some reason, taking this watch was Amanda’s way of getting back at me. For what, I don’t know.”
“That’s not like Amanda.”
She stared him down and said, “I don’t imagine it’s pleasant to realize your daughter has a problem, but you said yourself she misses her mother. Have you talked to her about that?”
“Tried,” he said. “She stonewalls me.”
“And you retreat. The way you’ve been backing toward that door the whole time you’ve been here.”
“Anyway,” he began, taking another step that proved her right. His pulse was pounding now, slow and hard.
Sunny moved toward him. “I tried to tell you the signs yesterday, and what did you say? That Amanda wasn’t unhappy. You just admitted she sometimes lies. How happy is that?”
“Well...and maybe her new friend isn’t the kind I’d like her to have—”
Sunny looked exasperated. “Doesn’t that tell you something? You don’t do her any favors by looking the other way.” She held up the watch, its beaded band sparkling in the light. “Or by returning this yourself instead of holding your daughter accountable. If she gets away with this—and it is theft—what comes next? Breaking into a store some night with her ‘friend’? Knowing you’ll cover for her again?”
His palms were sweating. Sunny Donovan must be something to see in a courtroom.
“Guess I’m not your candidate for Father of the Year.”
“This isn’t about you,” she said. “I don’t think you’ve really heard a word I said.” She paused. “And of course—I’ll say it for you—it’s none of my business.”
“Right,” he said. “I didn’t ask for your advice, and I’ve gotta go. Josh will be out of school soon.”
She was still standing in the front hall when he shut the door.
He and the kids would not be coming to any cookout.
AS SOON AS Griffin shut the front door, her cell phone rang with a melody from Porgy and Bess. Why hadn’t she changed it? Nate was no longer the man she would love until she died.
Sunny ignored his call...again.
Nate had made his choice. Now she was making hers. A clean break seemed the wisest course, at least until they had to deal with selling the apartment.
She wandered into the kitchen. A quick look out the windows showed a dark line of clouds heading this way, but the weather was the farthest thing from her mind. She sank on to a chair at the kitchen table and replayed her conversation with Griffin. Had she come on too strong?
She really had to stop acting like a lawyer on billable hours.
Her father was nowhere in sight, but her mother was at the sink, clattering dishes on the drain board and muttering to herself.
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” This being her standard answer when something was, Sunny didn’t even blink. Her mother would pry every last bit of information from someone else, but getting her to open up was always a hard, if not impossible, task.
“You might as well tell me,” she said.
Her mother banged a pot into the open dishwasher.
“You didn’t want to talk about Nate when you got home,” she reminded Sunny. “Now I should rattle on about something that doesn’t need talking about?”
“Get it off your chest, Mom.” She paused. “Why were you and Dad fighting?”
To her surprise her mother didn’t try to pretend otherwise.
With a shaken sigh she looked out the windows at the gathering storm, then turned from the sink, drying her hands on a towel before she joined Sunny at the table. “I think we should move. Your father doesn’t.”
Speechless, Sunny stared at her.
“Sell the house?” she finally echoed. “But why? I grew up here. It’s the only home I remember.” The place she needed now, even when that meant sleeping on the old sofa bed. “You love this house,” she said. So do I.
Her mother looked down at her perfectly manicured hands.
“Mom, you’re a homebody. You enjoy spending time here and fine-tuning this room or that. Only Dad’s den has been off-limits.”
Her mother gazed around the homey kitchen with tears in her eyes.
“We bought this house when you were seven, and we’ve been here a quarter century.”
“Yes, and it’s still my home, too.” Soon it would be the only one she’d have.
Thunder rumbled outside, making her mother flinch. “You know about the hurricane that took off our roof. Coming from the airport you must
