Page 22 of By The Book
“I was going to the beach.”
“Well, now you’re washing my truck,” Tom ordered gruffly. “You can go after.Ifyour mother says it’s okay.”
The kid hesitated for a second, red-faced, but then left them with a final glare at Denz.
“Do I want to know what that was about?” Tom asked.
“No, sir, you don’t.”
“You’ll let me know if something changes and I do?”
Denz nodded.
Tom seemed satisfied with Denz’s response and carried the second, smaller bag of trash toward the can.
“Thanks for fixing up those stairs.”
“No problem.”
“Thank you for that, too,” Tom added. “That boy has an awful big chip he’s carrying around, and whatever caused you to set him straight must have been a doozy.”
Denz didn’t speak. He planned to keep a close watch on both Tommy and Claire while he was in town, but if there was a need to involve Claire’s father, he would. He couldn’t stand the thought of her trying to take on Tommy’s anger alone.
“So, I hear you’re going to a wedding?”
Claire finishedher post-beach shower and donned a pair of cutoff shorts and a tank top. Given that it was Saturday and the first day of their stay, as Denz had pointed out, she gave herself the day off to regroup from the last couple of years—and this morning.
She found a lightweight, long-sleeved top she’d brought with her for breezy evenings on the beach. Claire tied it at her waist, then rolled the sleeves at the cuff, careful of the length so that they covered the bruises.
She’d avoided Tommy since her return, but when she went in search of him to have that talk, she discovered him washing her father’s truck. “Okay,” she murmured, wondering how that had come about when she hadn’t been able to get him to do any such chores for ages. Not since before Scott’s death.
“He’s not doing too bad a job,” her father said from behind her.
“Hey, Dad. I thought you were going in to work?”
“I got someone to cover. There’s a music event downtown but nothing my guy can’t handle. Thought I’d stick around.”
Awkward silence filled the space between them, and she shifted against the countertop where she leaned. “I, um, thought I’d make some sandwiches for lunch. Something simple. Sound good?”
“I can do that.”
“I’d like to help. I know you’re not used to having Tommy and me here—”
“That’s not my doing.”
“I didn’t say it was, Dad, I just meant—” She broke off and took a breath, determined to not be drawn into butting heads with him as she always was. “If you want to make them, great. If you want help, let me know.”
“I’ve gotten along okay since your mother passed,” he said, moving to the fridge.
Claire leaned her weight against the counter behind her and tracked her father’s movements. “I know. I’m sorry. Actually, Dad, I’d like to talk about that. Apologize for not being here to help more.”
“You had a husband and son and a job. Didn’t expect you to.”
“I know you didn’texpectit, but I wish… Dad, I just wish things were different between us. That’s all.”
“Things are fine.”
Oh, how familiarthatsounded. “Look, Dad—”
