Daddy didn’t act as though he ever wanted a new wife, not even a girlfriend. He said he never wanted to forget Mom. Neither did Sasha.
But a new mom might not be so bad.
She had distinct memories of Mom and of her dying—the days Mom spent lying on the couch and on what Sasha knew was a hospital bed. But somehow Aunt Ginny had helped it not be too sad. Sasha remembered the times when no one could stop the sad stuff. Like when Mom had bad reactions to the medicine or when it got really close to the end and all she did was sleep. She seemed to fade away that last summer.
Sasha was so glad Aunt Ginny had stayed. She was going to miss her, but she was also looking forward to being alone with Dad. Whenever Aunt Ginny had to go to Baltimore or on trips with her study group, Sasha had liked the father-daughter time with Dad. Plus she loved being with him on his job. She loved animals at least as much as he did.
Sasha hurried down the stairs and hit the wide-plank pine flooring of the hallway. Rascal clipped along beside her, trying to herd her into the kitchen.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Aunt Ginny met her halfway and hugged her tight. Sasha was eleven, almost twelve, but never tired of Aunt Ginny’s hugs or kisses.
Aunt Ginny pulled back a bit and looked into Sasha’s eyes. Aunt Ginny had Dad’s deep blue eyes, which Sasha often wished she had, too. Instead, she’d inherited her Mom’s brown eyes, which Dad and Aunt Ginny told her were beautiful and she’d be grateful for when she got older.
“What?” She hated it when Aunt Ginny looked at her for too long.
“How are you today? Good?”
“Yeah.” Sasha squirmed out of Aunt Ginny’s arms and went over to the counter. Someone had cleaned it up and put all the appliances away.
“Where’s the toaster?” Aunt Ginny never put things back in the same place twice.
“Under the counter. I bought some cinnamon waffles yesterday.”
“Thanks!” Sasha loved it when Aunt Ginny did the grocery shopping. Dad was more practical and would’ve bought plain waffles or no waffles at all—just some regular bread for toasting.
Sasha saw all the thick books Aunt Ginny had on the breakfast counter.
“Are you still studying?” She thought Aunt Ginny’s exams were over.
“I’m reviewing. When I start law school, I’ll be expected to be on top of all these subjects.”
“Huh.” Sasha enjoyed school and homework, but didn’t know how adults stayed awake when they were reading such thick books with all that small type.
Aunt Ginny was almost done with her bachelor’s degree. She’d done it from Dovetail, going into College Park as needed. Dad said Aunt Ginny had made a Great Sacrifice for them. Now she had to go live in Baltimore and go to the university there for law school. She’d be leaving soon to attend a spring review class before courses started at the end of the summer.
“Where’s Daddy?” Sasha spread peanut butter on her waffle. Aunt Ginny had sat down with her coffee and books.
“He got a late-night call.”
As soon as the words were out, Rascal whimpered and ran to the kitchen door. Sasha heard the slam as her dad got out of his truck.
“Daddy!” Sasha went over to the door as Dutch opened it and jumped at him. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a hug.
“Hi, sweetheart. You smell like a bunch of flowers.” He tugged at Sasha’s still-damp hair.
“It’s the shampoo Aunt Ginny got for me last Christmas.”
“Is it?”
Sasha nodded, then finished making her breakfast. Dad looked tired—his eyes were deep in his face and the lines around them made him seem like he was squinting.
“What happened?” Aunt Ginny must have noticed, too.
“Twin llama birth. One’s fine, the mother will hopefully be okay, but I don’t know about the second one. She’s really small and it’s going to be touch and go for a few days.”
“Can I go see them with you?”
“No.” Dutch’s response was immediate and it hurt. She hated when he was like this.
“Well, excuse me.” She shoved a bite of waffle into her mouth.
She heard her dad sigh, then he walked back to her.
“I’m sorry, Sash.” He tousled her hair. “I’ve been up all night, and I haven’t had an easy time of it. Of course you can go see the llamas, but not today. Let’s give them all a chance to settle in, okay?”
“Sure.” Sasha took her waffle and sat on a stool at the counter. “Do you want a waffle, Daddy?”
“No, thanks, sugarplum. I ate at Dot’s, before you were even out of bed. But I’ll sit with you, if that’s okay.”
“Okay. Wait! Let me go get my essay that I’m handing in today. You can read it over for me.” Sasha ran up the back stairs to her room. She heard Aunt Ginny laugh at her excitement.
What were they going to do when Aunt Ginny wasn’t there to calm Dad down?
GINNY TURNED to Dutch, before Sasha bounded back into the kitchen.
“How’d it go?”
Dutch screwed up his face and frowned at his baby sister, who looked so innocent with her widened eyes and lifted brows. But he knew she wasn’t asking about the llamas, not really.
“Fine. Awful. I hated it. I’m glad I saved the twin and, I hope, the dam.” He stared down at the floor.
“I can’t look at that woman without remembering, without seeing the pain on Natalie’s face when her calls weren’t returned.”
“I know.” Ginny’s voice was soft. She’d seen it, too. Claire and Natalie had been closer than sisters through grade school and high school. The only thing that had ever come between them was a boy.
Dutch.
“I don’t get it, Ginny. How someone so smart can be so stupid, especially with her friend, her family.” He couldn’t believe he was sharing so much with Ginny, but he blamed it on exhaustion.
“Sounds like she’s learned something,” Ginny said, giving him a level gaze. “She quit the press corps when her mom got sick, helped her mother through her heart surgery, and she’s stayed here even though she doesn’t need to anymore. She’s serious about making a go of it, Dutch. It’s been two years already.”
“Trust me, Ginny, if Claire Renquist has stayed in Dovetail, or anywhere, it’s for her benefit and hers alone. Claire doesn’t do anything solely for others. That part of her died a long time ago.” He snorted.
If it ever existed.
Ginny laughed, but not with any hint of sarcasm.
“Do you want some lemon with those bitters? Jeeze, Dutch, let it go. Some people do change.”
He grunted. He wanted to say “not Claire” but Ginny had a point. He’d turned into a crusty old man at the age of thirty-four.
Ginny had been a kid when Dutch and Claire dated, and not much older when they broke up. Dutch had married Natalie right out of college. He’d only recently told Ginny that he and Natalie had a pregnancy scare way back in high school after that fateful night during senior year. The night that ended any remaining relationship he’d had with Claire and permanently ruined Natalie and Claire’s childhood bond.
“Look, Daddy.” Sasha, back downstairs, slid onto the stool next to Dutch. He read her essay with one arm around her.