The Hero (Thunder Point #3)(59)

“Really? That doesn’t usually happen.”

“What happens? When you get something like straight A’s?” Cooper asked.

“You get to live,” Austin said.

Funny, that’s what had happened at his house, too. But it was different when your mother was dead and you had to go to a new school. “There you go,” Cooper said. “One more reason it’s cool to have a spare dad.”

* * *

Devon bought some princess decals and paint and Mercy helped her decorate the second bedroom in the duplex.

Mercy needed her princess chamber—her own bedroom. Helping to decorate the walls interested her in having her own space, which gave Devon her own space. Devon’s routine had changed, especially now that Austin had returned from Texas. The perimeters of her life had grown and now included important time with Spencer. They saw each other for at least a little while every day, but at night when their kids were settled, they talked on the phone. Devon was pleased to know Mercy had made a positive transition to sleeping in her own bedroom. They now had separate beds and separate bedrooms and Devon could not be happier about it.

Devon and Spencer came out as a couple in Thunder Point. At first she was reluctant to go public, but she soon realized no one was surprised. They now held hands in public. Spencer would drop an arm over her shoulders and give her a brief squeeze. There was the occasional chaste and socially acceptable kiss.

As they shared more and more of their lives together one evening Spencer reported that Austin had seemed a little unsettled after his trip to Texas and that he had asked Spencer if he “missed mom.” Spencer had answered that he would always miss her and always wish she hadn’t gotten sick, but that it was all right to make new friends, that it took nothing from Bridget’s memory to have more people in their lives.

He later confided that Austin had told him they looked at a lot of pictures while he was in San Antonio, old pictures from when Austin was a lot younger. There were many pictures of his mom, back when Bridget was vital and healthy and rosy-cheeked. Austin told his grandparents that he didn’t even remember his mom like that. And that had made Grandma cry and Grandpa got all moody and coughed a lot.

“I had to have a talk with them,” Spencer told Devon. “It was not what I wanted to do, but I had to. I understand their grief. I can’t imagine losing a child, no matter how old that child is. But we have to let Austin move on. A ten-year-old has a hard enough life without being filled with sadness all the time.”

“Oh, Spencer, how did they take it?” Devon asked.

“Very emotionally. They’re sorry I was unhappy with them. They only wanted to be sure Austin remembered his mother. But I explained that we have all those pictures and they’re available to Austin if he asks for them. He knows where they are. They’ll belong to him someday and hopefully he will show them to his own children. But I can’t send him to Texas for a fun visit only to have it fill him with dread because it won’t be fun, it will be sad. Of course they promised not to do that again. But Cooper has a solution—we need to send the Cunninghams plane tickets and get them out here.”

“Will it upset them to meet me?”

“Because we’re together? A couple? In love?” he asked her, smiling. “I hope not, but their feelings won’t change anything. We all need to move forward.”

That was all Devon wanted, to move forward and with each day she put Jacob and the commune farther and farther behind her. She wanted a new life, this life. She loved the doctor’s office, loved Gabriella, the town, the beach, and most of all, Spencer. She had visions of one day being a real part of this Thunder Point family, being a family with Spencer and Austin.

School started and Austin was the new kid and friendless for about two hours after which Spencer’s house and the beach hosted new friends on bikes. The Tuesday after Labor Day school resumed in earnest. There would be no more holidays until Thanksgiving, but there would be football games. Two a week during most weeks. Devon had not been this excited about how she’d spend her time since she’d been in high school herself.

But before she could attend her first football game the first week in September, a dark-colored sedan pulled up in front of the clinic one morning. Two men wearing sports coats over knit shirts emerged and came inside.

“Devon McAllister?” one of them asked.

She felt her face lose color. She nodded fearfully. She was alone in the clinic.

The man who had asked her name pulled a thin wallet from his breast pocket. “Douglas Freeman, FBI. You’re going to have to come with us.”

Fourteen

“Why?” Devon asked weakly.

“We’d like to ask you some questions. There must be someone here who can cover for you.”

“Not today, I’m here alone, with the doctor’s cell number for emergencies.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and give him a call, Miss McAllister. Let him know that there’s been an emergency in your schedule and you’re going to be away from the office.”

“What is this about?”

“I think you know. We’d like to ask you about your last residence.”

“Will I be long?” she wanted to know, and helpless, she began to tremble. “Will I be back?”

“Possibly. Possibly not,” Douglas Freeman said.