One Look: A grumpy, single dad small town romance(39)

“Think she’ll come back?” Duke asked.

Lee shrugged. “Worth a shot. She loves Montana, but school’s almost done for her. I can call her tomorrow.”

Duke looked around the old farmhouse. “I can call in a favor to Beck. See if he knows anyone who’d be willing to help us out.”

Beckett was Duke’s best friend and owned a successful construction company, but his family would be a complication after what had gone down with their beloved son Declan and Katie. We were running out of options. If we could get someone he trusted, along with Kate smoothing things over with Tootie, we could have her home up to code, and I’d worry a hell of a lot less about everything.

Sold on the idea, I nodded. “Just let me know how much.”

Duke looked at me. “We’ll all take care of her.”

In solemn agreement, we nodded at each other.

Just then Penny burst through the side door and hustled into the kitchen. When I followed her, I saw her peering into a shoebox. She clamped the lid down tight at the sight of me.

“Lark, how much did Aunt Tootie pay you to come to Bowlegs’s funeral?”

“Pickle,” I warned.

Penny dipped her hands in the pocket of her skirt and held out several coins in her little hand. “What? I just need to know. I want to hire her.”

Lark’s eyes danced with amusement. “Hire me?”

Penny shifted the box to her hip and looked up. “If you could all please come outside.”

We eyed each other warily, but over my shoulder I nodded. Tootie looked at me as I glanced at Dad, settled on the couch, and she smiled. “We’ll stay behind.”

One by one, Lark, Lee, Duke, the boys, and I followed Penny out to the backyard. Across the grass, near an old oak tree, there was a small hole.

“Pickle, did you dig up Tootie’s yard?”

“Shh.” She frowned at me. “This is a serious time.”

My eyebrows popped up. “Oh. Sorry.”

Rounding the old oak, Penny adjusted the small shoebox. She held it high above her head. “This is Eggburt the chicken.”

My stomach dropped. “Oh my god. Pickle, is there a dead animal in that box?”

Lee stifled a laugh, and I shot him a look. Duke stood stoically beside him with his hands clasped in front of him, but a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Kevin, Michael, and Joey looked on, horrified.

“Is this what you needed my help for?” Lark asked.

Penny nodded. “I want to give Burt the burial he deserves. Can you help?”

Lark looked to me, but I had no clue what to say. “Sure.” She smiled.

Penny gently laid the shoebox in the too-small hole. “Here lies Burt. Lark will now say a few nice things.”

Surprised but composed, Lark took one step forward. “Oh, well . . . okay.” She cleared her throat. “Burt was a good chicken. His life was . . . peaceful here. There were many sunny days, and he was loved. Though we will miss him, I know he’s in a better place.” She stepped back and leaned over to Penny to whisper, “How was that?”

Penny’s mouth twisted in subtle disappointment. “Can you cry a little?”

At that, I coughed to hide my laughter. Lark’s eyes whipped to mine before clearing her throat. “I’ll work on it.”

We stood, silent and staring down at the shoebox.

I really hope there’s not an actual dead chicken in there.

Lark blotted at the fresh tears in the corner of her eyes. After a moment of silence, Penny nodded, satisfied that Eggburt had been properly honored.

“Thank you, everyone.”

We slowly started walking back to the main house. “Pickle, what was in the box?”

She looked up at me. “Eggburt.”

“Okay . . . what happened to him?”

Penny rolled her eyes at me like I was the simplest human on the planet. “Daddy . . . we ate him!”

Lee’s barking laugh erupted into the evening air while Joey turned and puked into Tootie’s rosebushes.





17





LARK





Having a casual dinner with Wyatt and his family was easy.

Too easy.

I could feel that Red’s condition made Wyatt uneasy, but for me, I loved listening to stories about when the Sullivans were little, especially hearing the pride in Red’s voice when he talked about Wyatt.

There was so much love there.

The fact Penny had stolen the chicken carcass from dinner and forced us all into an unexpected chicken funeral had me giggling the rest of the night. I couldn’t get over the look of horror on Wyatt’s face. Poor Joey had lost his composure and ended up throwing up all over Tootie’s rosebushes. He recovered once he learned that the chicken was store-bought and not one of the cute little hens that milled around Tootie’s backyard.

We also had the best blueberry pie I’d ever tasted.

After dessert, Penny had begged and pleaded to have a sleepover. The boys took off to a late-night beach party, and Duke and Lee parted ways, presumably bringing Red back to his place at Haven Pines.

The silence in Wyatt’s car was deafening on the ride back. I fiddled with the hem of my skirt.

When he caught my movements, Wyatt adjusted the air-conditioning. “Are you hot?”