except for smelling of fresh paint. Jenna was already sitting on a red-and-yellow area rug, playing with a pile of Legos her parents had dug out and watching TV. A plate of animal cookies and a glass of milk sat on a table to her right.
Evie was so relieved someone else was taking care of all the details that she didn’t even care that Jenna was most likely getting too full for dinner.
August had already gone downstairs to the lower level, and Evie was about to follow when her dad stopped her and put the duffel next to the stairs. “Come have a beer, sunshine.”
“The van—”
“August will get another load, and I’ll help him in a minute. You need a break.” Circling an arm around her shoulders, Mike led her into the bright kitchen.
After her dad thrust a cold bottle of Coors into her hand, he raised an imaginary bottle in a toast. “Cheers, dear. You made it.”
“Cheers.” Tears pricked at her eyes. She knew exactly what he meant. Today had certainly been a long time coming. Ever since her divorce, she’d just been subsisting, doing her best to get through each day. Weekends consisted of days alone with both girls, or days alone without them. Through it all, she still hadn’t yet mastered managing her time. Agreeing to leave the state with the girls for a whole month had taken more than a leap of faith. It had been a leap without a safety net.
But John had been asked to go to Japan on business, and even he had thought it was a good time for her to get away.
As they heard the screen door screech open and slam again, duty called. “I better go help—”
Her dad held up a hand. “August, you okay?”
“I’m fine,” August called back, tromping back downstairs.
Her dad grinned. “See?”
Evie leaned against the granite-topped center island. “I see. I see that you’re up to something.”
“Just no good.” Her dad winked, the old joke they’d shared illuminating the room as brightly as the new fluorescent track lights above them.
“Momma? Momma, Missy needs to be changed, and she’s hungry, too.”
Ah, Jenna. The voice of reason. “I’ll be right there.”
“I’m taking care of it,” her mother called out. “You stay in the kitchen. Mike? Come help August.”
“You sit here and relax for a spell, sunshine.”
Evie did, hopping up on the bar stool next to the island. She wasn’t a huge drinker, but beer never tasted so good as it did at the beach. Must be something with the salty air, she supposed.
In the living room, life went on, the screen door opening and shutting, Missy fussing as her mother attempted to get that diaper changed, Jenna talking a mile a minute. The noises were comforting, familiar. Almost strange. It had been a long time since she’d sat while everyone else did the work.
After a few more minutes, August came in the kitchen with her cooler and propped it next to the stainless-steel sink. “This is the last of it.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate all your help.”
“It took ten minutes, Ev. No big deal.”
Since she didn’t want to thank him yet again, she simply nodded.
“I put the down pillow on your bed. It was yours, right?”
Now, why did that seem so personal? She swallowed. “Yes.”
He stepped closer, letting her see that he, too, had grown older. Fine lines creased his eyes, the shadow of a beard graced his jaw. He was wearing cologne. Nothing too fancy, but tangy enough to set her senses on edge and make it hard to remember that she had a whole lot of other things to think about besides old memories.
“Well. I guess you’re all set, then.”
“I guess I am.” She attempted to smile. “I swear, I’m so tired, I’m going to sleep the moment my head hits that pillow.”
The doorbell rang, effectively preventing August from commenting on that. Thank God. “Mom and Tanya are here,” he said, looking almost regretful. “I better go help my mom get settled.”
She was just about to follow August out of the kitchen when her dad wandered in again. “Stay here and talk to me,” he ordered, popping open a beer for himself and pulling out a tray of burgers, all ready for the grill. “You hungry?”
“I could be.”
“I hope so. You look like hell, Evie.”
“Thanks.”
“You need to hear it. You’re too skinny and you’ve got lines on your face.”
“Those would be wrinkles. I am getting older, Dad.”
“Not that old. More likely, I’d say you’re stressed out.” Looking her over again, he shook his head. “That damn John.”
Just hearing John’s name could make her go from almost happy to miserable in a heartbeat. “I don’t want to talk about John.”
Her dad scowled, revealing his own supply of age lines. “We never have talked about him, about what he did to you. Not really.”
“There was nothing to say. He didn’t want to be married anymore.” To her.
“He always was too selfish. The girls needed—”
“He’s a good daddy.” With some shock, Evie remembered how he’d never minded helping to change diapers or spend time with Jenna. How he’d been thrilled to have another girl and had visibly held back tears when Missy had been in the hospital with croup. “John’s always been good to the girls.”
“But never the husband you needed. He should have intended to be more than a good father—”
“Daddy, we weren’t meant to be together. I’ve known it for a long time.”
“Still, he broke your heart.”
“My heart broke because I realized that my marriage had never been like I’d hoped it to be.” Quietly she added, “Daddy, it wasn’t like you and Momma. John and I never had a thing to say to each other at the end of the day.”
Concern flickered in his gray eyes, so like her own. “But still—”
“But still, it’s been hard,” she agreed. Terribly hard.
After taking another sip of his beer, her dad shook his head. “Come on out to the patio and watch me cook. August’s mom and sister are already out there.”
“I can’t wait to see Tanya. I haven’t seen her since she came out to visit last year. Do she and August stop over a lot?”
“Pretty much. August runs Silver Shells now, did you know that?”
“Yeah,
