Connor switched off the air-conditioning and opened his window, too. “What is the counselor recommending?”
“Ms. Meyes is going to meet with them frequently at school to talk about things. Both together and separately. She’s a clinical psychologist and has experience handling stuff like this. She said it could just be a coping mechanism they’re employing due to the move here over the summer. That they feel they need their dad to help them through the transition or something, and it’s just a temporary thing.”
“Do you think that’s it?”
“I don’t know, Connor.” Kristy sighed. Her teeth worried her lower lip as she shot him a troubled glance, confiding, “The thing is, they’ve never talked too much about their dad’s passing. Young kids can’t really comprehend the concept of death, the finality of it. So that was no surprise. I mean, they know he is in heaven, and that he hasn’t come back and isn’t going to. And they seemed to be soldiering on.”
“But…?” Connor prodded, his heart going out to her and her girls, and all they had obviously been through. It couldn’t have been easy, losing a husband when you still had two children who were depending on you to take care of them, he thought. It was hard enough to get over losing a spouse, period.
“But there’s no doubt they’ve changed since Lance died,” Kristy continued in a low, troubled voice. “Susie used to be a princess, and now she’s a tomboy. And Sally is so particular about things. Susie carries around a Frisbee, and Sally carries around that old beach towel that was Lance’s. You probably saw them with those things yesterday.”
“Yeah, I did,” Connor said compassionately. He hadn’t known what the significance of the items were at the time. He had just noticed that the girls had brought them in to dinner and then carefully recouped them as soon as dinner was over.
“But Susie won’t play Frisbee anymore, and neither will Sally, because that’s something they used to do with their dad.”
“They’re still grieving the loss of their daddy.”
Kristy nodded, a look of unbearable sadness coming over her face.
“What about you?” Connor asked, not sure why this should be so important to him, just knowing it was. “Are you?”
GOOD QUESTION, Kristy thought as they arrived back at Paradise. Noting Harry Bowles’s car was not in the drive, she released the catch on her safety belt and got out of Connor’s Mercedes. “I think I’ve moved on.”
“And yet,” he pointed out quietly, as he circled around the end of the car and fell into step beside her, “you’re still wearing your wedding and engagement rings on your left hand.”
Kristy looked self-consciously down at her hand, embarrassed that Connor had noticed that about her. She knew she should have taken her rings off when Lance died, and put them away. But she hadn’t been able to. Feeling herself growing defensive, she shoved her hands in the pockets of her shorts and turned to face him. “What’s your point?”
Not about to pull any punches with her, he said quietly, “If you want your girls to be able to accept the finality of their father’s passing, maybe you have to start accepting it, too.”
Kristy glared at him. “I don’t believe I asked for any armchair psychology, Mr. Templeton!”
He shrugged his broad shoulders indolently. “Just making an observation.”
“Well, don’t!” Kristy advised with every ounce of dignity she possessed. Not sure when she had been so furious with anyone in her life, she stalked away without a backward glance.
CONNOR STARTED TO GO after Kristy, to find some way to make amends, then changed his mind. Whether she wanted to or not, she had to think about what he had just said. And in the meantime, there was still the matter of her nonfunctioning minivan….
In the distance, the lodge door slammed behind Kristy.
Connor sighed and started toward his car.
Without the keys to Kristy’s minivan or her permission to take a look under the hood, there wasn’t a lot he could do except call his favorite mechanic and ask him to make a house call. Connor reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He had just started to dial when a maliciously grinning Bruce Fitts rounded the corner.
“What are you doing here?” Connor demanded, irked to have to deal with Kristy’s obnoxious neighbor to the south.
“Helping ‘our cause,’ of course.”
Connor didn’t want to be lumped in with the likes of someone like the lawsuit-loving Bruce Fitts. “By…?” Connor prodded.
“Loosening the distributor cap and a few wires on her minivan, of course. Fool woman, she didn’t even think to check.”
“You deliberately sabotaged her car?” Connor asked in amazement.
“The lady needs to realize she is not welcome here.”
“Listen…” Connor took a threatening step toward Bruce. Then, reminding himself it wouldn’t do any good to make enemies here, he reined in his temper. “Antics like this could sour the deal,” he pointed out coolly.
That stopped Fitts, but only for a second. “Has she agreed to sell yet?” he asked.
“No, but—”
“Then I plan to continue my campaign to help her toward that decision,” he announced with a sneer.
Connor’s temper inched higher. Much more of this and he would lose it.
“What are you still doing here?” Kristy’s voice rang out behind Connor. “And what are you—” she pointed at Bruce “—doing on my property?”
“I was saying hello to my friend Connor,” Bruce said.
Kristy’s eyebrows climbed higher. “Well, I’d like you both to leave,” she said firmly.
Connor wanted to tell her this jerk was not his friend. Not anywhere near it. But knowing that wouldn’t help Kristy, he merely clapped a hand on Bruce Fitts’s shoulder and propelled him toward his beach house. He would deal with Kristy. Make her see he hadn’t meant to offend her with his observation about her wedding and engagement rings. But it would be later, after they had both had the time and opportunity to cool off.
“SO HOW IS IT GOING with the widow woman?” Skip asked Connor over a late breakfast at a local café.
“We’ve got a problem with her neighbor.” Connor explained the harassment Kristy was receiving from Bruce Fitts.
“Well, I hate to say it, but as loathsome as I find Fitts and his actions, what he’s doing only seems to help our cause,” Skip said practically.
Exactly the words Fitts had used, Connor thought uncomfortably. “Bruce Fitts is a jackass and a half,” he said.
“I know,” Skip answered bluntly. “But look at it this way. He doesn’t want Kristy Neumeyer resurrecting Paradise Resort. He does want something built in its place.”
“At this moment he does,” Connor corrected. “But that could change. And Fitts could be just as much a pain in the butt to the new condominium owners as he is to Kristy Neumeyer right now.”
“Then that will be their problem, not ours,” Skip replied unsympathetically. “Besides, the consortium we put together can always buy him out, and they can turn his luxurious beach house into a restaurant or something.”
Connor had already had thoughts along the same lines himself. Not that Fitts’s property would come cheap. Or even reasonably priced.
“Meanwhile, how are you doing at convincing the delectable Ms. Neumeyer to change her mind and work with us on this?”