Somebody to Love(104)

No. Family life was not for him.

This whole thing with Parker was over. That was clear.

* * *

WHEN THE SUN HAD FINALLY risen and a decent-enough hour approached, James got dressed. Dockers, blue oxford with the sleeves rolled up. His carpentry work was finished.

He looked in the window; Lavinia was already here, playing cards with Nicky on the floor of the kitchen. James knocked.

“Hey there, Jamie,” Lavinia said. “Come on in, sweetheart.”

“I’m looking for Parker, if she has a minute,” he answered. “Hi, Nick.”

Nicky didn’t answer. Refused to even look at him.

At that moment, Parker came into the kitchen, and the sight of her hit him like a truck.

“James. Hi,” she said warily.

“Hi. Sorry it’s so early.” It was after nine, not really early at all. “Got a sec?”

“Sure. Um, Nicky, I’ll be right back. Vin, you don’t mind keeping an eye on him, do you?”

“Not a bit,” Lavinia answered. “See you, James.”

So Lavinia already knew he was toast.

Parker came out and walked around the house to the street side. Not down on the dock, thank God. She stopped and folded her arms.

“Parker, I’m so sorry,” James began.

“It’s okay. Nicky hides all the time. All’s well that ends well. It wasn’t your fault.”

Sure it was. He could feel it.

“Thank you for trying to find him,” she added, finally meeting his eyes. “It must’ve been horrible for you.”

“No. I mean, it was… I thought he—” The thought was too unspeakable to finish. “I’m glad he’s okay.”

“Yes.” She looked at the yellow and orange lilies along the fence, which she’d liberated from a bank of weeds a couple of weeks ago. “I heard you took a job in Manhattan.”

Harry must’ve told her. “Yeah.”

“It sounds perfect for you. Congratulations.”

And there it was. “Thanks. They just called. Last week.”

She nodded, glancing at him, then away again. “James, I’m sorry about the conversation the other night. I was…I don’t know. Caught up in the whole summer-romance thing. Sorry if I seemed like another desperate single woman talking babies. The truth is, I don’t want any more kids. One’s enough, right?”

“Yeah. Sure, he’s a great kid.” He glanced at the house. “Anything else you need me to do here?” he asked.

“No. Thank you. You were so helpful, James.”

He nodded. “Well, I’ll probably see you before you head back for Rhode Island. I have to help Dewey with a couple things, so I’ll be around. I’ll…I’ll pick up Apollo before I go.”

“Thank you.”

And with that, he went back to his truck and backed out of the driveway.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

IT DIDN’T FEEL RIGHT, having the summer end like this.

Three days after Nicky’s incident, and Parker was still tense. She hadn’t seen James, though he’d come by when she was out and taken Apollo, leaving her a note that only said to call if she needed anything. On the house front, there’d been only one solid offer, so she supposed she’d have to take it, though it wasn’t a heck of a lot. Another couple had made a higher offer, but they had to sell their own place first, and time was of the essence for this sale. She and Nicky needed to get back to Rhode Island, settle into the new place. Two college friends said they could hook her up with a job—insurance or technical writing.

She really couldn’t picture doing either one. Then again, she hadn’t been able to picture fixing a leaky toilet before this summer, and she’d managed to do that.

They were leaving on Monday; today was Saturday. There’d be less traffic—more time to pack, not that there was much to pack up. Maybe she was stalling. She didn’t know.

Nicky, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to go. He’d been sullen since the night he hid, kept asking when he could go back to Daddy, and was generally rubbing Parker’s last nerve to a bloody nub. She found herself counting the hours till bedtime, then feeling like a horrible parent because she was so eager for her child to go to sleep.

It was Parker’s last day at the shop. There was a funeral in the next town, and she and Vin were making huge, somber arrangements. Well, Parker was; Vin was having a smoke, watching Nicky draw on the sidewalk with chalk through the window while Beauty kept him company.

“You gonna forgive that boy?” Lavinia asked abruptly.

“Nicky?”

“No, Parker. Jamie Cahill.”

“Oh.” She paused. “There was nothing to forgive. It really wasn’t his fault.”

“Well, he sure looks miserable. Saw him at Dewey’s last night. You dumped him, didn’t you?”

Parker glanced up, then resumed stripping the leaves from a stalk of gladiola. “No. It ended. He took a job in New York. I’m going back to Rhode Island. That’s all.”

Vin took a deep drag on her cigarette. “Coulda fooled me. The kid looks like what’s-his-name. Spartacus?”

“Spartacus?”

“What’s-his-name. The guy who turned in Jesus.”