Page 75 of Bountiful
“Can I come back next week?” my sister askedsuddenly.
“To Vermont?” The requestsurprisedme.
“Of course to Vermont. I’m trying to clear a couple of days so I can visit again. You invited me,remember?”
“You’re always welcome,” I said quickly. “When you pick a flight, text me.” I loved my sister, but a couple of hours’ notice would be nice. “Hey—Bess? I had a weird memory today. You wore cloth diapers with safety pins on each side. And this plastic thing that wentoverthem.”
She was so quiet for a second that I thought maybe the call had cut out. “There’s no way I could remember that,Davey.”
“I suppose not.” And I didn’t really want her to. Our mother’s death had been awful. But it hadn’t been the most awful part of our childhood. Our widowed father’s punches had been worse. And I knew for sure that Bess rememberedthose.
“What’s next with the lawyer?” sheasked.
“Um…” I tried to bring my brain back to the present. “I’ll do my paternity-test kit and send it back. He’ll draft a child-support agreement. Then I’ll have to have an awkward conversation with Zara about how she wants to be paid. She’ll get a lump sum up front, of course. For back payment. But I could advance her more money if she wants to move into an apartment withayard.”
“Or,” my sister said. “You could just buy a house with a yard. A house in that town can’tcostmuch.”
I thought about that for a second. “You’re right. Then she wouldn’t have to spend the child-support moneyonrent.”
“And you’d have aninvestment.”
“You’re pretty smart foragirl.”
“Davey!” she shrieked at the insult, while I cackled. There were things I said only to rile up my sister. It was painfully clear that all the women in my life were smarter thanthemen.
Just spend five minutes in our locker room, and you’d beconvinced.
“Gotta go,” I told her. “There’s no cell service when I get close to thecabins.”
“Later,turd.”
“Later.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Zara
When I’d toldDave I was going to have a busy week, it wasn’t stretching thetruth.
There were last-minute preparations for Audrey’s wedding. And I needed to line up extra childcare for the week following the wedding. Griff and Audrey were taking a honeymoon in San Francisco, which meant that I’d be working twelve-hourdays.
Meanwhile, Audrey wasn’t fully present at work. She was focused on wedding details and relatives who were arrivingintown.
Also puking. Poor Audrey spent part of her coffee-shop hours ducking into our bathroom to dry heave. We weren’t discussing her pregnancy yet. She hadn’t come clean. But when she wasn’t puking, she was shoving bread in her mouth. Oh, and she’d given up coffee. Either the Apocalypse was upon us or the girl waspreggers.
I was excited for her. But needless to say, this week I did all the heavy lifting intheshop.
So it wasn’t exactly a good moment to get a call from Dave, asking me to meet him at an address in town. “Can I have just a half hour of your time?” he asked. “I need your opinion aboutsomething.”
“Today?” I cringed when the question came out bitchier than I’d meantitto.
“Well…I could probably schedule a different time. But today would reallybebest.”
“What is it, anyway?” I couldn’t imagine Dave needing my opinion on anythingimportant.
“I’d rather show you thantellyou.”
Right.
