Читать книгу In Confidence - Karen Young - Страница 15

Three months later

Cam’s first job on his to-do list after finishing his book was to repaint the trim on his porch. Trying to keep the old place in good repair was a never-ending challenge, but he’d found that he liked tinkering around the house where he’d been raised. It was surprisingly satisfying. Not only was the house shaping up, but while doing the work, he found that with his hands occupied, his mind was free to flesh out the proposal for a new book. It was nearing midday now and he was almost finished repainting the trim when he heard the roaring sound of a huge moving van gearing down, then braking to make the turn at the corner of the street. New neighbors…and close by, he thought, since Morningside was a short street. He stopped what he was doing, balanced the paint brush on top of the can and reached for a rag soaked in turpentine to clean his hands.

The van appeared to be slowing to a stop. With a frown, he saw the driver peering at the number on his own house and then his neighbor’s, Dinah Hunt. Cam watched, assuming the driver had stopped to get his bearings, but then a car turned the corner, pulled in front of the moving van and stopped at curbside. Out of it came Rachel Forrester, her son, Nick, another teenage boy in a baseball cap and a little girl. This couldn’t be what it appeared, he thought, even as he watched Rachel approach the van driver.

With a sense of impending doom, he saw the driver’s helper get out and head toward the back of the van. Once the doors were opened, he adjusted the load ramp and disappeared inside. The little girl raced up Dinah’s sidewalk yelling, “We’re here, Gran! We’re all ready to move in!”

It couldn’t be, but it was. Tossing his paint rag aside, Cam slapped the lid on the can and gave it a smart thump with a hammer, heedless of the color splattering his shoes. Scowling, he snatched up the newspaper he’d used to protect the porch floor and stuffed it into a plastic trash bag while out of the corner of his eye he saw the boy, Nick, break away from his buddy and head his way. Just what he needed right next door, Rachel Forrester and her son, highly visible and constant reminders of Jack and how he’d died.

“Hi, Mr. Ford.”

He straightened slowly, scooping up the smelly rag. “Cam,” he reminded the boy. “How’s it goin’, Nick?”

“I guess you can tell we’re moving in with Gran today.”

Looking up from scrubbing paint off his shoe, Cam saw the first load—three large boxes—was now being wheeled down the ramp on a dolly. “I figured that out.”

Nick’s gaze drifted back to the van where the helper was carefully handing a cat carrier over to the driver. Inside, a big yellow tom meowed in protest. “It’s sort of a family emergency. Nobody’s happy about it except Gran and Kendy.”

“Kendy. That would be your little sister.”

“Yes, sir. Kendall. She seems to think it’s some kind of vacation, us going to live with Gran. The truth is, my mom and dad are getting a divorce.”

And Rachel was screwed out of the house? Had she let him con her into using the same lawyer, playing on her denial that he wouldn’t take advantage of her? His infidelity alone should have given her grounds to take him to the cleaners. Instead, here were Rachel and the kids being displaced, not Ted. Cam swiped one last time at his Nikes and tried to keep what he thought off his face. He found it gave him no satisfaction that he’d been right about Forrester. Straightening, he said, “I’m sorry about that.”

Nick shrugged with a kid’s fatalistic acceptance of having no power over grown-ups and their decisions. “Mom says the move’s only temporary,” he said, watching Kendall coax the scared cat out of the carrier. “We’ll have to wait for the details of the divorce to be worked out before finding another house, but it’ll be in Rose Hill.” This he said with certainty, but a scowl darkened his face. “No way we’ll move somewhere else.”