Читать книгу Ultimate Cedar Cove Collection - Debbie Macomber - Страница 69

Sixteen

With only a few days left before Christmas, Corrie Mc-Afee was eager to finish the last of her shopping. She’d assumed that when Roy took early retirement from the Seattle police force they’d travel. Touring Europe was something they’d talked about for years.

Retirement had sounded so liberating. No alarm clocks; a come-and-go-as-you-please kind of lifestyle. It had been that way at first, but Roy had gone stir-crazy within eighteen months. Shortly after their arrival in Cedar Cove, he’d hung out his shingle as a private investigator.

Linnette, their twenty-four-year-old daughter, had predicted as much. The older of their two children, she was most like her father. She shared Roy’s insight into people; they both possessed an innate ability to read character and see through pretense. Linnette also had a genuine desire to help people, especially children. In fact, she was receiving her physician’s assistant degree in June. She’d be arriving for the holidays on Wednesday afternoon, and joining Corrie and Roy for the Christmas Eve worship service at church.

Mack was coming to Cedar Cove, too, but their son wouldn’t get there until Christmas morning. Mack was a mailman in the Seattle area. He’d never enjoyed school or succeeded at it the way his sister had. Corrie believed that, in time, he’d decide to further his education, but if he didn’t, that was fine, too. He was generous, hard-working and honest. Roy, however, had bigger aspirations for his only son, and it had caused a rift between him and Mack. A small one they both chose to ignore, but they weren’t close, and that troubled Corrie.

“Are you going out?” Roy asked as he left his office and found her wearing her coat.

“Peggy and I are meeting for lunch,” she told him. “Then we’re off to the mall.”

Her husband leaned against her desk in a relaxed pose. “You like Peggy, don’t you?”

Corrie nodded. They’d lived in Cedar Cove nearly four years now and hadn’t established a lot of friendships. In the beginning, Corrie had been busy setting up their home. Later she was involved with helping Roy establish the agency. There’d been overtures of friendship from their neighbors, but Corrie and Roy tended to keep to themselves. That was how it had been in Seattle, and they’d maintained the same approach here. They waved to the neighbors, collected their mail while they were on vacation, but that was about the extent of it.

Peggy Beldon, however, was someone who genuinely interested Corrie, for a number of reasons. Corrie had a small garden space at the back of their property. Her yard in Seattle had been shaded and too small for anything other than a few flowers. After seeing Peggy’s herb garden, she wanted to plant her own. But Corrie liked Peggy for more than her gardening expertise.

The day Bob came into the office and Corrie had chatted with Peggy, the other woman had graciously offered Corrie a few seedlings. That was the beginning of their friendship. Twice now, they’d met for lunch to chat, exchange recipes and get to know each other. Both times Corrie had come away with the feeling that she’d made a friend.

“You don’t mind if I take the time off, do you?” she asked. Her question was a polite formality, since Roy had encouraged the friendship.

Her husband shook his head. “By all means, tackle the mall. You’re braver than I am by a long shot.”

“You don’t have any appointments this afternoon?”

He looked at her absently. Corrie knew him well enough to realize his mind had drifted in another direction altogether. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

Roy continued to stare into space.

“Roy?”

He frowned, and it was clear he hadn’t even heard her the first time. Roy was like this. His thoughts would venture off onto some case and it’d be practically impossible to get his attention.

“Is it the mystery man again?” she asked. She knew that some part of his brain refused to let this lie. He needed answers, resolution. It was one of the reasons he’d advanced quickly through the ranks of the Seattle Police Department to become a detective, a position he’d held for most of his career.

“You want my opinion?” she said.

Roy grinned. “I have a feeling you’re going to give it to me, anyway, so why not?”

“I suspect this John Doe was lost and looking for a place to stay. You and I both know there are only a couple of motels in town.”

“Both are off the Interstate,” Roy reminded her.

“So he took an early exit and got lost. That’s easy enough to do,” Corrie reasoned. “Remember the first time we drove to Cedar Cove?” If he didn’t remember, she certainly did. They’d driven across the Narrows Bridge on a sunny Sunday afternoon, searching out areas in Puget Sound where their retirement income would match the cost of living.

Corrie had been reading the map and become confused. Consequently, Roy had exited the freeway too soon and they’d found themselves in what was primarily a rural area. They’d driven past small farms and horse ranches and then along stretches of undeveloped waterfront. They’d both grown excited when they realized property values were fifty percent less than they were across the water.

“I remember,” Roy said. “But if that was the case, the mystery man would’ve had to travel a long way in the dark, on unfamiliar roads, and then he just stumbled onto the Bel-dons’ bed-and-breakfast.” He rubbed his jaw. “I suppose it’s possible. With the renaming of some streets, anyone, especially a visitor, could get confused.” Part of Lighthouse Road, on the other side of Harbor Street, was now called Cranberry Point.

“True.” Roy had a point. The Thyme and Tide wasn’t on the beaten path and was miles away from the exit she’d mentioned.

“So much of his visit to town doesn’t add up,” Roy muttered. “The fact that he had plastic surgery has bothered me from the beginning.”

“I thought the coroner said it looked like the guy had some kind of accident.”

“He did,” Roy said, “but Bob said there was something vaguely familiar about him. I keep thinking about that, too.”

“Let it go,” she urged. “It’s almost Christmas.” If Roy took a break from the case, he might free his mind to explore solutions. It often happened like that; a case would lie fallow for months and then overnight a small piece of evidence her husband had found months earlier—a bit of conversation, a previously unrelated detail—would suddenly click into place. Soon afterward, he’d have the answers he needed.

“I can’t do that just yet,” he mumbled. “I’ve got a few feelers out.”

Corrie nearly groaned. The problem was, once Roy asked for favors, he owed just as many in return. It all depended on whom he’d contacted and why. “What sort of feelers?”

“Not to worry, most of it can be done over the Internet.”

“It’s almost Christmas,” she reminded him again. For once, she wanted him to simply enjoy the holiday and stop thinking about work.

“Yes,” he agreed mildly.

“Our children will be home soon, and it’s important that we spend time as a family.”

“I agree,” he said, “but I want you to remember there’s another family somewhere who’s missing a father this Christmas.”

Corrie had remained emotionally detached from the man who’d turned up dead at the Beldons’ B and B. He was a stranger who’d chosen to carry false identification. Nothing was known about him or his reasons for being in town. Because of that, Corrie hadn’t thought of him as a real person with a home and a wife and perhaps children.

“You’re doing a missing person’s search, aren’t you?”

Roy shrugged, which in itself was an answer. “Go, and have a good time with Peggy,” he told her.

“Do you want me to bring you back anything for lunch?”

Roy shook his head. “I’ll get by with peanut butter and jelly.” His favorite midday meal.

Corrie left then, and spent a pleasant afternoon with her new friend. It felt good to get out, to be part of the annual Christmas-shopping experience. They ate at the mall’s food court, chatting over pizza slices and Coke as holiday tunes filled the air. Soon the two women were caught up in the crowd of shoppers.

Corrie bought Linnette new gloves and Mack a Cedar Cove sweatshirt, and Peggy chose a new golf club for Bob and a book of plays. Bob loved community theater. Roy and Corrie had recently seen him in the fall production of Arsenic and Old Lace. He was actually quite talented. For her husband, Corrie bought a beautiful volume of Sherlock Holmes stories.

From Peggy’s comments, Corrie sensed that Bob was putting the unfortunate circumstances regarding the John Doe behind him. She knew the police had questioned him, but whatever their concern, it had apparently been laid to rest.

The two women left the mall at about three, saying goodbye in the parking lot. Vendors sold fresh-cut Christmas trees, and Corrie breathed deeply, inhaling the pungent scent of pine and fir. Nothing smelled more like Christmas.

When she returned to the office, she found Roy hunched over his computer, a plate and an empty milk glass sitting on his desk. He stared intently at the computer screen and hadn’t noticed her.

“Any phone calls?” she asked.

Roy raised his head. “Oh, hi. What? Phone calls?”

“Did the telephone go ring, ring, ring?” she teased.

He shook his head.

“Do you want to hear about my lunch?” She waited, but when he didn’t respond, she continued. “In case you’re interested, Peggy and I had a great time. I was thinking maybe we could invite them over for New Year’s Eve.”

Again nothing.

Corrie sighed. “Peggy’s such a good cook, I’ll bet no one ever thinks to invite her to dinner. You like Bob, don’t you?”

Her husband stared up at her blankly. Corrie was starting to feel irritated.

“I like the Beldons,” she said in a firm voice. “I think all four of us could become friends.”

Roy leaned back in his chair and fixed his gaze on her. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

Corrie’s cheerful mood evaporated. “Why not?” she asked.

Roy stood and walked slowly around his desk. His shoulders slouched, he ran his hand through his hair, disheveling it.

Corrie stiffened. Roy had found something in his Internet search, and whatever it was, he didn’t want to tell her.

“Do you think Bob is somehow linked to the John Doe?” she asked bluntly.

Roy’s eyes met hers and he nodded.

She swallowed tightly. The one friend she’d found, and now this.

“Do you think Bob had something to do with his death?” she asked next. She didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to consider what that would mean for Peggy.

Roy walked back to the other side of his desk and sat down. “I don’t know, but I’m not ruling it out.”

Olivia’s Christmas was all planned. Justine, Seth and Leif, as well as her mother, would be at her house for dinner by midafternoon. Olivia had invited Jack, too, but unfortunately he’d already made arrangements to join Eric and Shelly and the twins in Reno.

“Next year we’ll be together,” Jack promised. He’d stopped at her place early Christmas morning, before he left for the airport. She gave him her gift—a first edition of H. L. Mencken—and he set his gifts for her under the tree.

“Promise for next year?” she asked, when he’d kissed her farewell.

“Promise.” Jack gathered her in his arms and kissed her again.

Olivia felt the warmth of that kiss all the way to her toes, and when he’d finished, her head was spinning. They were only now recovering their ease and comfort with each other, although they remained a little on edge, afraid of toppling the delicate balance.

For her part, Olivia was careful. Neither of them had discussed Stan, although her ex-husband still called her often—always for what appeared to be legitimate reasons.

Stan was smart. He wanted back in her life and he was a patient man. For the moment, he was letting things slide, doing nothing overt. Olivia knew her ex-husband, though. At some point, when he figured the time was right, Stan would swoop in.

“Will you be here for New Year’s Eve?” she asked, looking up at Jack. The thought of spending the night playing Scrabble with her mother held little appeal, although it’d been their tradition for almost a decade. If Jack could join them, it would turn an otherwise routine evening into something truly entertaining. Charlotte loved Jack as much as Olivia did.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I already made other plans.”

Her smile faded, and her heart thudded to an abrupt halt. “Not with another woman, I hope?”

He chuckled and appeared to be amused by her small display of jealousy. “It’s not what you think. I volunteered to be part of a retreat for Alcoholics Anonymous. I’m sorry. If I’d thought about it, I would’ve cleared it with you first.”

She had no right to make that kind of demand on him. “It’s not a problem. I…I’ll miss you.”

Jack kissed her one final time. “I’m going to miss you, too.”

Olivia walked him to his car and waved as he drove off. She wouldn’t see him again until after the first of the year. Sadness settled over her. And so did a measure of regret. The difficulties in their relationship had come about because she’d allowed herself to get caught up in Stan’s sudden need for her and the nostalgia she’d felt for their past. A past that couldn’t be retrieved…

Olivia shook off her somber mood, and Christmas was wonderful. With her mother’s help, Olivia’s turkey turned out golden-brown and succulent. Although he was still too young to appreciate Christmas, Leif was thoroughly spoiled by Olivia. Stan had dropped off his gifts earlier in the week.

They opened their presents after brunch, and it was an hour full of laughter and exclamations of pleasure. The contrast between Jack’s gifts to her and Stan’s seemed very telling to Olivia. Jack had bought her a small framed black-and-white photograph of the Cedar Cove lighthouse, one of Jon Bowman’s pictures. He’d also given her a new Cross pen, to replace the old one she’d used for years. Stan had bought her a diamond pendant, an “any woman” sort of gift. It seemed oddly impersonal, although Justine immediately made her put it on.

At three o’clock, the small party telephoned James and Selina in San Diego and eighteen-month-old Isabella chattered away. Unfortunately, little of what her granddaughter said was decipherable to Olivia. What did come across was that this was the first Christmas her granddaughter understood that she had two grandmas. Selina assured Olivia that Isabella loved her gifts: a talking doll with its own baby carriage.

“I wish you’d invited Dad,” Justine told Olivia privately in the kitchen while scraping the dinner dishes.

“I thought about it,” Olivia confessed. She had, but she was afraid it would encourage Stan, which was the last thing she wanted to do.

“I hate it that he spent the day alone.”

Olivia swallowed down a sense of guilt, but later she reminded herself that if Stan was alone on Christmas Day, it was the result of choices he’d made sixteen years ago. He was the one who’d walked out on their family, on her and their two surviving children. Despite her sympathy for him, and her residual affection, she couldn’t get too involved in comforting her ex-husband, even if he was in the throes of a second divorce. Knowing Stan, that would lead to willfully mistaken impressions; besides, she had other priorities now.

“Seth and I are hoping to spend New Year’s Eve at the restaurant,” Justine said casually, without looking at Olivia.

If that was a hint that her daughter needed someone to watch Leif, Olivia was more than ready to volunteer. Jack had plans, so the only person she worried about upsetting was her mother.

“Let me check with your grandmother, but if she doesn’t mind, I’ll stay with Leif.”

“Really, Mom?” Justine was obviously relieved. “I don’t feel right leaving him with a sitter yet.”

Olivia didn’t blame her. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Her mother sat with her feet up in front of the fireplace, knitting what seemed to be a man’s sweater, although she hadn’t said who it was for. Possibly Seth, but that didn’t seem likely. If it was, Olivia assumed her mother would’ve finished it before Christmas.

Sitting down next to Charlotte, Olivia took in the scene around her. A fire flickered in the fireplace and the Christmas stockings that had hung on the mantel were down now, empty and spread across the coffee table. Seth held his sleeping son cradled in his arms; he, too, had dozed off. Christmas music played softly from the CD player and the lights on the tree sparkled. It was about as perfect a Christmas as she could remember.

“Mom,” Olivia said, “would you mind terribly if I didn’t join you this New Year’s Eve?”

“Oh, you have other plans?”

Olivia looked at her quizzically; her mother seemed pleased by the prospect of spending the evening alone. “Justine asked me to watch Leif so she and Seth could be at the restaurant.”

“By all means, Olivia, you stay with Leif. Don’t worry about me.”

“Would you like me to drive by and pick you up?” Olivia asked.

“Nonsense,” Charlotte returned. “I might have a date of my own, you know.”

Olivia smiled. Charlotte had men friends, but no beaus. Her friends had encouraged her to pursue a second relationship, but Charlotte had refused. Life was simpler that way, she’d always said.

Following her divorce, well-meaning friends had tried to set Olivia up with various men. Had circumstances been different, she might’ve been interested. But at the time, she was in no condition to get involved with anyone, and she knew it.

In addition, Justine and James had needed her. Her world and theirs had just collapsed, crushing them under the weight of their combined grief. For a long time afterward, the three of them had been emotionally crippled. They’d needed time to recover, and it hadn’t happened quickly or easily.

In their own ways, they’d each succeeded. James had joined the Navy and married Selina. In the military he’d found security, and Selina had offered him the unconditional love he so desperately needed.

Justine had faltered for years, and had managed to convince herself that she wanted neither a husband nor children. Thankfully, Seth Gunderson had convinced her otherwise.

For her part, Olivia had found satisfaction and joy in her position on the bench. Meeting Jack had been an unexpected bonus. He’d brought laughter and spontaneity back into her life. With him, she could relax the rigidity that she’d so carefully incorporated into her daily routine.

Her throat thickened with sudden emotion. She owed Jack so much, and she’d nearly thrown it all away. She’d nearly destroyed the relationship that gave her so much pleasure.

It dawned on her then that she hadn’t heard from him all day.

Later that night, after her family had left, Jack did phone, but their conversation was brief. He was flying back the following weekend, and they arranged a dinner date at the Taco Shack, his favorite restaurant. Olivia had to admit she was growing accustomed to reading a menu on a wall.

After she talked to Jack, Olivia made a pot of tea and sat in front of the Christmas tree, reveling in a peaceful hour or so before bed. It had truly been a wonderful Christmas. The only improvement she could add to the day was Jack, and he’d already promised her they’d be together the following year.

The phone chimed in the distance, and for a moment she was tempted to let it ring. In retrospect, she wished she had.

“Merry Christmas,” she said before glancing at caller ID.

It was Stan. “Same to you, sweetheart.” He sounded cheerful.

She resisted the urge to correct him—to tell him she wasn’t his sweetheart and never would be again. “Hello, Stan. I imagine you want to talk to Justine and Seth, but they’ve left.”

“No,” he said, “I’m calling to talk to you.”

She didn’t comment.

“I wanted to ask you out for New Year’s Eve.” Before she could object, he added, “Think about the two of us having dinner at the Space Needle, with champagne and ballroom dancing, just like we used to.”

Clearly he had her confused with his second wife. When she was married to Stan, they could never have afforded such extravagance. “I’m sorry, but I already have plans.”

A momentary pause. Then he said, “Not with that newspaper fellow. Tell me you’re not serious.”

Olivia bit her tongue to keep from defending Jack. It wouldn’t do any good. “If you must know, I agreed to watch Leif for Justine and Seth.”

“You did?”

She almost confessed that Jack would be at a retreat with some of his AA friends, but quickly decided that was more information than her ex-husband needed to know.

“That’s great,” Stan said, sounding jovial now. “I’ll join you. We’ll put Leif down for the night, drink champagne and dance. It’ll be like old times, just the two of us.”

“I don’t think so.”

Stan chuckled. “You can’t keep me away from my only grandson, and it’ll be the perfect opportunity for us to talk. Give me a chance to prove myself, Olivia. I made a mistake and I’ve paid for it. It’s time to put the past behind us. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

Olivia released a sigh. “I’m sorry, Stan, but you’re sixteen years too late.”

* * *

Christmas had been a miserable affair for Rosie. Allison was in a rotten mood most of the day because neither Rosie nor Zach could afford to buy her the computer she wanted. Eddie had been disappointed in his gifts, too, but he’d put on a brighter face than Allison. Rosie wondered when their children had become so terribly, terribly spoiled.

That Saturday, two days after Christmas, Rosie and Zach met to divide the monthly bills. Until the divorce, Zach had always managed the money and had done an excellent job of handling their finances; now they shared this unpleasant task. The divorce had cost them both dearly and continued to do so.

Zach had brewed a pot of coffee when she arrived at the house. The bills were spread out across the kitchen table, organized alphabetically. She noted that dishes were stacked in the sink and the living room needed to be straightened. From the look of the carpet, no one had vacuumed since before Christmas. She wasn’t about to mention his failings as a housekeeper, however, considering that she wasn’t much better.

“When we’re finished there’s something I need to discuss with you,” he said. He reached for the coffeepot and automatically filled two mugs, which he brought to the table. He set hers down, then pulled out a chair across from her.

Studying the tense look on his face, Rosie decided she’d rather deal with whatever was bothering him first and get it over with. “What?” she said, picking up her mug.

“It might be best if we talked about it later.”

“Where are the kids?”

“Eddie’s with Jeremy and his mother at the movies, and Allison’s in her room sulking.”

Nothing had changed from earlier in the week. Rosie glanced at the electric bill and nearly groaned aloud. The water bill was equally high. With both of them employed, they managed to cover expenses, but paying attorneys’ fees and maintaining two residences didn’t leave anything for extras.

A year ago, Rosie had been shopping the after-Christmas sales, loading up on wrapping paper and ribbon and assorted bargains. This year she couldn’t afford to do that. It was a sad commentary on what her life had become.

“All right, we can talk about Allison first,” Zach said, leaning back in his chair. He folded his arms across his chest.

His body language made her feel a little wary, and she braced herself for whatever he had to say.

“For starters, Allison gave me a list I’m supposed to share with you.”

“A list?” Rosie asked, frowning.

“Apparently she’s got it in her head that the judge awarded her and Eddie the house, so she’s the one in charge.”

“I’m not putting up with that notion,” Rosie assured him. Frankly she’d be shocked if Zach fell into line with any ultimatum their daughter presented.

His mouth quivered slightly and she could tell he was more amused than angry. “Take a look at this,” he said. He unfolded the single sheet of paper and handed it to her.

Rosie scanned the carefully typed list of rules their fifteen-year-old daughter had given them. “What?” she burst out incredulously. “We’re supposed to stay out of the family room if Allison has a friend over and they’re watching television?”

“It gets better,” Zach told her.

Rosie’s eyes widened as she continued down the sheet. “We’re not to embarrass her by asking if she has her homework done or any other personal questions.”

“She’s got a rule for Eddie, too.” He pointed toward the bottom of the page.

Rosie couldn’t help it, she laughed outright at the last item on the page. “Eddie’s supposed to have his hair combed at all times.”

“Apparently her little brother’s unruly hair is an embarrassment to her.”

“Yeah, and neither one of us makes the grade, either,” she said, waving the sheet of rules.

Zach nodded. “We’re forbidden to enter her room, you’ll notice. And we require Her Majesty’s permission before cleaning in there or touching her stuff.”

“Not in this lifetime.” Zach could make his own decisions when it came to Allison’s list, but for her part Rosie was planning to ignore it.

“I wish this was the only letter I had to show you,” Zach said, growing serious. “The school wrote and said Allison’s grades have dropped considerably.”

“Did they suggest counseling?” Having Allison talk to a professional would be expensive, but Rosie would do whatever was necessary to help their daughter through this difficult transition period.

“I don’t think counseling’s the answer, especially with her attitude. I have a better idea, but only if you agree.”

“What?” At this point Rosie was open to just about anything. They were losing Allison. Every day their daughter seemed to be drawing further and further away from them. She was angry and rebellious. Rosie knew Allison had every right to feel the things she did, but she couldn’t stand by and do nothing while her daughter self-destructed.

“Allison’s pretty disappointed about not getting a computer for Christmas.”

This wasn’t news to Rosie; she’d already heard it, many times over.

“What if she earns it?” Zach said.

“Earns it? How?” Rosie couldn’t see her daughter baby-sitting or doing the kinds of chores a typical fifteen-year-old did to earn extra cash.

“What if I bring her into the office?” Zach suggested. “Tax time is always hectic and we could use an extra pair of hands for filing, photocopying and so on. It would be a real part-time job with a real paycheck.”

Rosie’s heart started to pound with excitement. “That way we’d be able to monitor where she is after school, and who she’s with.” One of Rosie’s biggest concerns was the new friends Allison had found. Where Allison went and who she was with—those were major concerns for both Zach and Rosie.

“I think it’s a brilliant idea.” Rosie nodded happily. “And Eddie’s been going to his friend Nick’s place in the afternoons, so that’s not an issue.”

“Allison has to agree first,” Zach reminded her. “I’m not exactly her favorite person at the moment. There are no guarantees. She could say no when she learns she’d be working at the office.”

“But,” Rosie said, “she wants a computer.”

“Shall we mention it together?”

Rosie nodded, grateful to be included in the discussion. Zach went down the hallway that led to the bedrooms. A few minutes later, he returned with Allison, who had recently pierced her nose. Rosie cringed when she noticed, but managed to keep her opinion to herself. This new piercing was a response to not getting the computer she wanted, Rosie suspected. The kids had received some Christmas money from their grandparents, and the nose ring must be what Allison had spent hers on.

“Your mother and I want to talk to you,” Zach said when Allison slouched against the counter, arms crossed, defiance radiating from every part of her body.

“I figured you would when you read my list. I’m not willing to compromise on any of my fifteen points. Since the house belongs to Eddie and me, I expect you to live up to my stipulations.”

“We can discuss that later,” Zach said, smoothly diverting her from that subject. “What your mother and I wanted to tell you was how sorry we are that you didn’t get a computer for Christmas.”

Allison glanced between them, as though she wasn’t sure she should believe what Zach had said. She shrugged, implying it was no big deal, although that certainly wasn’t the impression she’d given earlier.

“We can’t afford it, Allison. I couldn’t be sorrier.” Zach looked genuinely regretful. “But,” he said, “we’ve come up with a way for you to get a computer.”

“You have?” Her eyes brightened with hope.

“I want to hire you,” Zach said. “Tax time’s coming and my new assistant needs some additional help.”

Her eyes, which had widened just a moment earlier, narrowed now with suspicion. “You want me to earn a computer?”

“It’s your decision. I’m just giving you the opportunity.”

She shrugged again, as if she wasn’t sure she should admit it. “I’d want a dollar more than minimum wage to start,” she insisted.

Zach nodded. “That’s acceptable.”

“And I should be paid overtime if I have to work extra hours.”

“That’s only fair,” Zach agreed.

Allison glanced from Rosie to her father and then back. “All right,” she said. “I’ll do it, but only because I want a new computer. Don’t think you’re doing me any favors.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Zach assured her.

“You ready to talk about my list now?” she asked, straightening abruptly.

“Let’s leave that for later. All right?”

She sighed in a loud, exasperated way. “I guess.” And with that she returned to her room.

Zach’s gaze met Rosie’s, and for the first time in what felt like years, they shared a smile.