Somebody to Love. Kristan Higgins

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СКАЧАТЬ a riot broke out.”

       “Good thinking. All right, I should go. I have a meeting. Take care of yourself, son. Talk soon.” With that, he hung up, sounding much like the corporate wheeler and dealer he’d been.

       A meeting. That was good. One good thing about prison—Harry would have to sober up.

       Well. Back to work. Parker’s room was almost clear.

       He had to admit, it was more satisfying than Nerf basketball.

      * * *

      “O KAY, FOR MOLD KILLING, this here’s what you want, little lady,” said Ben, one of the three senior-citizen gentlemen who’d pounced the second she’d walked into the tiny hardware store.

       “Mold killer. Got it. Thank you so much, really.”

       “Oh, my Lord, it’s a pleasure,” Rolly said. “Pretty ladies who don’t know nothin’ about home repair…it’s what we live for.”

       “You guys are angels.”

      I resent that, said Spike. A totally overused word.

       “You’re sweet, dahlin’,” said Stuart. “It’s our pleasure. You ever painted a room before?”

       “I haven’t,” she admitted, and the men charged the paint-chip wall.

       Almost three hours after she entered the hardware store, Parker left, the three guys carrying her packages to the Volvo. “Oh, Rhode Island,” said Ben, glancing at her plates. “I went to Providence College.”

       “A wonderful school,” Parker said, making him blush.

       “You need any more advice, we’ll be happy to help,” Stuart said.

       “I absolutely will, and thanks a million, boys. Really.”

       She realized she was smiling as she started the car. The guys had advised on mousetraps—the thought made her cringe, regardless of this morning’s little incident, which she’d relayed to her new pals to their howling delight. They’d shown her what she’d need: sponges, brooms, mops, bleach and lots of it, Murphy’s wood oil, razor-blade scrapers, gallons of Windex, six pairs of thick rubber gloves, two pairs of work gloves, megasize trash bags. Not only that, but the boys had a box of doughnuts from Joe’s Diner—no Starbucks up here, that was for sure—and they’d made her eat two, bless their hearts.

       Parker had never been in a hardware store before. Nope. It was her new favorite place, though—all those mysterious thingies, the pleasant smell of metal and wood smoke from the stove in the middle of the store. All those solutions for her troubles.

       Glancing at her watch, she saw that, at last, it was late enough to call Nicky. She pulled over to the side of the road. Cell service, thank heavens.

       “Mommy! Guess what? I love sourdough bread! I hated it yesterday, and now I love it! You have to smear it with jelly. That’s when it gets good. Guess what else? We’re going to the Golden Bridge today! And some gardens…Lucy’s making me go but I want to see the jail! It’s on an island and me and Daddy—”

       “Daddy and I.”

       “Daddy and I are gonna go to jail like Grandpa, but I’m gonna break out! And I’m gonna bring Elephant, and he’s gonna break out, too. And guess what? I’m gonna jump in the water and swim all the way to Maine, Mommy! We’ll take you out for lunch.”

       Man, her boy was the best kid ever. Parker felt a bit as if she’d swallowed the sun, so warm and bright his chirpy little voice made her feel. “Well, don’t swim yet. The house isn’t quite ready, and you have to go see the giant trees and rocks, remember?”

       “I know. But I miss you.”

       The vise that had gripped her heart since Nicky left tightened a notch. “I miss you, too, sweetheart.” I miss you so much I cried in the car last night. “I can’t wait for you to get here. It’s so pretty. I can see lobster boats from the house.” Well, she could if the windows weren’t boarded up. “And there’s a really cute diner where we can go out to eat.”

       “Do they have sourdough bread?”

       “I don’t know. I’m going there tomorrow.”

       “Did you know there are earthquakes in Fran Francisco?” Nicky said.

       Parker smiled again. “I did, actually.”

       “I’m gonna lay on the floor—”

       “Lie on the floor.”

       “—and see if I can hear one. Here’s Lucy! Bye! I love you! I got you a present! It’s a necklace and it’s a rainbow.”

       “Bye, baby. I love you! I’ll call you later,” Parker said.

       There was a smile in Lucy’s voice. “He’s on the floor. Every time a bus goes past the hotel, he tells us to get in a doorway. Go brush your teeth, okay, pal?” she said to Nicky. “So how are you, Parker? What’s it like up there?”

       “Oh, it’s pretty. It’s very pretty,” Parker said.

       “And what’s the house like?”

       “Well, um, it’s right on the water. It’s pretty small, very cute. It needs some work. But it’ll be great.” No need to worry her two best pals on their vacation. She’d save the stories for later, when the horror wasn’t so fresh.

       “How’s the real-estate market up there?” Lucy asked.

       “I haven’t checked yet. It’s on my list.” Right after I kill Snuggles the Mouse, of course.

       “And how about that summer romance?” Lucy asked. “You up for that?”

       Parker paused. “Well, I happened to meet a very attractive lobsterman yesterday.”

       “No, sir! That’s great! Do I smell a fling?”

       They chatted a few minutes more; Lucy said Ethan was in the shower, so he’d call her later. And even though Parker knew she’d be talking to her son again that day, she couldn’t help feeling a little lonely as she hung up. The three of them in San Francisco, her alone in Maine. Such were the perils of joint custody.

       Well. She wasn’t completely alone. She had Thing One, heaven help her. That was going to be…difficult. It wasn’t so much that he worked for her father, or even that he hadn’t warned her about the trust-fund issues, because yes, Parker could see that legally, he was stuck.

       It was that—Go ahead, this is good, advised Spike—even after all these years of her father’s neglect and vague disapproval, she would’ve given a lot to have one-tenth of the affection Harry Welles offered so freely to James. Maybe James was the son he’d always wanted. Maybe James reminded Harry of his younger self. But just once, it would’ve been nice if her father had called her up and asked her to come for dinner or play a game of squash or go to one of his single-malt nights.

       Stupid, that even after all these years, she still wanted her dad. СКАЧАТЬ