Live to Tell (Live to Tell #1)(17)
“But he hasn’t brought it back yet, and it’s been weeks, you said.”
She shrugs.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Dead serious,” she repeats.
Forgetting the seasoned reporter charm, he snaps, “Since you refuse to give me his name, the least you—”
“I refuse to because I can’t.”
“Well, the least you can do is call him for me and ask him if he has my daughter’s toy.”
Her eyes have hardened. “No,” she says simply.
“You can’t? Or you won’t?”
She shrugs.
This is ridiculous. Should he ask for a supervisor?
No. If he learned anything in all those years as an investigative journalist, it’s to know when to persist and when to quit—for the time being, anyway.
“Now if you’ll please just…” She tilts her head, indicating for him to step aside.
He spins on his heel, fists clenched at his side in fury, nearly crashing into the person behind him, who stands holding an open newspaper.
“Sorry,” he mutters as he brushes past, thoughts already careening ahead toward his next move.
CHAPTER FOUR
Okay, Daddy, we’ll see you then… I love you, too… Here’s Ry.”
Watching Lucy hand the receiver over to her brother, Lauren notes that for all the growing up her oldest daughter did over the summer, she hasn’t reverted to calling Nick “Dad.”
It’s been years since she started fifth grade and informed her parents that she would no longer be referring to them as “Daddy” and “Mommy.” She went back to “Daddy” last spring, when Nick left.
Lauren isn’t quite sure what to make of it, and she hasn’t commented on it.
“’S’up, Dad?” Ryan heads out of the kitchen with the phone.
That Nick actually called the house—instead of texting the kids’ cells—was somewhat surprising. Lucy jumped on the phone when she recognized his number on the caller ID, and Ryan hovered beside her waiting for his turn.
“Make sure you let Sadie talk to Dad before you hang up,” Lauren calls after Ryan.
No reply.
No surprise.
She isn’t in the mood to go chasing after him. Anyway, if Ryan doesn’t put Sadie on the phone with Nick, she’ll probably never know the difference. It’s not as though their youngest child has asked for her father much lately—or, for that matter, for her pink stuffed bunny. But Lauren suspects they both weigh heavily on Sadie’s mind.
“I’m starved.” Lucy snags a grape tomato from the salad Lauren’s throwing together. “When’s dinner?”
“Soon. Did you remember to pick up the mail for the Hilberts and the Levines?” The next-door neighbors on either side of them are vacationing together in the Outer Banks this week.
“And the O’Neals. Yes.”
“The O’Neals went with them?” They’re the across-the-street neighbors.
“No, they’re in California. We’re, like, the only ones left on the block this week. Can we go someplace good next summer, Mom?”
“Like…camp?”
“I was thinking Europe. I’ve never been there.”
“Welcome to the club.”
“That’s so sad. Everyone should visit Europe before they turn twenty-one.”
“Yeah? Who told you that?” Glancing at her daughter, Lauren knows right away.
Beth.
“Never mind,” she tells Lucy, who shrugs and steals another tomato as Chauncey trots into the kitchen. “Can you please feed the dog?”
Lucy opens a cupboard and finds a can of Alpo. “You know, Mom, it’s crazy for you to pay someone to walk him every day when you can pay me instead.”
“I’m not the one who does the paying, your father does,” Lauren reminds her. “And you weren’t here all summer, and you won’t be here when school starts, so…”
“But I’m here now.”
“So are Ingrid and Ted.” Chauncey’s regular walkers, a middle-aged woman and a college-age man, work for Dog Days, the local service Nick hired. Until he decides it’s no longer necessary, she might as well keep them around to make her life easier.
The same goes for Magic Maids, the cleaning service. Now that Lucy and Ryan are home, Tuesday—the regular cleaning day—can’t come soon enough.
“Here you go, boy.”
As Lucy puts a bowl of dog food on the floor in front of an appreciative Chauncey, Lauren admires her daughter’s effortless beauty. Lucy is blessed with a trim athletic build, big green eyes, and a flawless complexion that’s seen a little too much sun this summer for Lauren’s peace of mind—though she secretly acknowledges that the glow is becoming. Lucy’s perpetual ponytail has been replaced, over the summer, by a new style. Damp and freshly shampooed, it falls straight and silky past her shoulders.
Any second now, she’s probably going to come home with her first boyfriend.
And I’ll have to handle that on my own, too.
But Lauren will have to worry about it when the time comes. What matters now is that Lucy is all right—faring better, perhaps, than anyone. She’s no longer pulling out her eyelashes. Nick was right about one thing: the time away from home obviously did their older daughter a world of good.