Beau dropped the box at his feet. The tools clinked. “Did you hear what I said?”
“I heard.” Ethan knelt and yanked on a nail. “Your dad won’t like this.”
“Do you know who he is?”
He did. Doug Sutcliffe was a plastic surgeon in Sacramento. Ethan had heard the news of Meggie’s marriage—and divorce—from his former employer and friend, Ash McKee, Meggie’s brother. “Who he is doesn’t matter, Beau. What matters is that people conduct themselves in a good and decent manner.”
“You saying my dad isn’t good and decent?” A thread of disquiet under the belligerence.
“I’m sure he is.” But when was the last time he saw you?
Beau crouched at the far end of the dock, yanked nails left and right. “You got something on your mind, spit it out.”
“If I had a son smart as you, I wouldn’t be living in California.” Ethan nodded at the hammer the boy held. “Make sure you replace the old nails. Don’t just pull them.”
The kid squatted. Bang went the hammer. “You don’t know anything about my dad.” Bang-bang-bang.
“You’re right. I don’t.”
“Every time I go to California, he pays my flight down. We do things together.” The bravado was back. The same bravado from last night when the boy mouthed off in front of his friends. “He’s got this pool and a membership to this club where you can play tennis all day. His wife’s really nice and so are my little half sisters. They treat me like part of the family, and we go to the beach and have lunch in restaurants with patios looking out over the ocean. Sharon, that’s his wife’s name, she has a gardener to look after their yard and a housekeeper. Her and the kids never have to do chores. It’s cool.”
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