Loe raamatut: «For Her Son's Love», lehekülg 3

Chapter Four

“Pleeease, Miranda. You’re the only person I know who doesn’t have plans on a Friday night.” Darcy clasped her hands together and probably would have dropped to her knees if she hadn’t been wearing her favorite pair of white jeans.

She’d trapped Miranda in the small break room off the kitchen when she’d stopped at the diner to pick up her paycheck.

Miranda wasn’t sure what amused her more—the truth in the desperate plea or that Darcy could draw out a simple, one-syllable word like please for ten excruciating seconds.

“Just for the record, I do have a date. With a very handsome young man. We’re going to play Chutes and Ladders, drink root beer and eat popcorn.”

“Sounds boring… Oh, you’re talking about Daniel.” Darcy looked relieved. “I only need you to cover the last hour of my shift so Greg and I can catch the nine o’clock movie. One hour. That’s it. I promise. This could be the night when he falls madly in love with me. My entire future rests in your hands.” She nibbled on the tips of her artificial nails and waited while Miranda decided her fate.

“I thought you were waiting for Andrew Noble to fall madly in love with you.” Miranda couldn’t resist teasing her a little.

“You were right. Andrew might be Mr. Gorgeous and Available to three or four women on this planet, but he’s Mr. Gorgeous and Out of My League to Darcy Gibson. Greg drives a brand new Saturn and doesn’t live with his mother. I’d say that makes him a pretty good catch, wouldn’t you?” She snapped her gum to underscore the point.

“I’ll work for you.” It was the safest thing Miranda could say at the moment.

Darcy squealed and hugged her. “Thanks, Miranda. I owe you. If you ever have a real date and need someone to keep an eye on Dan the Little Man, let me know. He’s into science, right? I remember some cool experiments from chem class.”

Miranda made a mental note never to ask Darcy to babysit. Ever. Not that she’d be going out on a date anytime soon. The one serious relationship she’d had in her life, with Hal Stevens, had shaken her to the core. She no longer trusted her own judgment when it came to men.

She had met Hal at the bank where she’d worked as a loans officer and immediately she’d been drawn to him. Good-looking and successful, Hal was a junior partner in a local law firm. His confident, take-charge personality seemed to be just what she’d needed at that time in her life. Reeling from the loss of her beloved older sister and trying to figure out how to parent an active toddler, Miranda had been overwhelmed. Hal’d swept into her life like the proverbial knight on a white horse.

Within months, however, the “take-charge” man who’d lovingly encouraged her to lean on him slowly took over her life. He’d openly criticized her friends until they eventually stopped calling. He’d accused her of flirting with the male customers who came into the bank. He’d dropped in during business hours to check up on her. Somewhere along the way, his attentive courtship had morphed into a jealous obsession. Gradually his tirades weren’t only limited to the men Miranda had come into contact with at the bank—they’d started to cast a dark shadow on her relationship with Daniel. Hal had begun to complain about the amount of attention she gave to her son.

Miranda had found herself living in a nightmare. And it got worse. One evening, she’d told Hal she couldn’t go to a concert with him because Daniel had a fever. Hal had screamed that Daniel wasn’t even her biological son so it wasn’t fair he had to compete with the boy. And then he’d pushed her against the wall. It was the first time his attacks had crossed the line from verbal to physical. Daniel had witnessed the scuffle and had burst into tears. It had given Miranda the courage to do what she had to do. She’d broken up with him.

But Hal hadn’t been willing to let her go. He wouldn’t stop calling her. He’d shown up at the bank where she’d worked. But one evening, when he’d let himself into her apartment with a key she didn’t know he’d had, and Miranda knew she had to make a decision.

Less than a week later, she’d taken Daniel and fled from her home in Georgia in the middle of the night. She’d had one suitcase and a vague destination in mind— Chestnut Grove, just outside of Richmond, Virginia. It was as good a place as any for a fresh start and it would take them far away from Hal. Miranda didn’t have any roots there but Daniel did. He’d been a newborn when Lorraine and Tom had adopted him from Tiny Blessings Adoption Agency.

Her relationship with Hal had cost her more than her job and her security. It had devastated her ability to trust. And knowing that Hal might still be looking for her—even after four years—kept her constantly on edge.

Not exactly the kind of baggage a woman could carry into a new relationship.

“I know that look.” Darcy put her hands on Miranda’s shoulders and shook her lightly. “Daniel’s dad messed with your head and now you think all men are scum. And they are. The trick is to figure out which ones are always going to be scum and which ones have the potential to be descummed.”

“I’ll remember that.” Miranda’s reluctant laughter over this latest Darcy-ism chased away the specter of the past.

Encouraged, Darcy warmed to the subject. “You could put a little more effort into your appearance. No offense, but even older women should make the most of what they have. You could put some highlights in your hair and use a little eyeshadow. I found this great color called Astro blue—”

Which, if Miranda remembered correctly, had enough metallic sparkle in it to get her a part as an extra in a sci-fi movie.

“I’ll see you tonight at eight, Darcy…” Miranda suddenly noticed one of the buttons on her summer-weight sweater had come loose and was hanging from the placket like a broken spring.

Darcy zeroed in on it. She blew a bubble and let it pop. Just for effect. “My opinion? Don’t replace the button, replace the cardigan.”

Or I could use it as a muzzle.

“I’ll think about it.” Miranda escaped to the kitchen before Darcy offered to lend her one of her sweaters.

She found Daniel standing next to Isaac, carefully refilling the salt shakers. A swatch of silky brown hair, which needed a trim, flopped over one eye.

“Ready to go, Daniel?”

“You two off to the park today?” Isaac boomed above the hiss of the grill.

“Yup.” Daniel nodded vigorously and his glasses slipped down to the end of his nose.

“Hit a couple home runs for me, Danny Boy.”

“Daniel doesn’t play baseball,” Miranda reminded him. “We’re going to look for bugs to add to his collection.”

“Well, you can keep those things out of my kitchen,” Isaac muttered. “Imagine looking for bugs. On purpose.”

“Will you tell Sandra I’ll be back in tonight to close up?” Miranda called over her shoulder. “I’m covering for Darcy.”

“Sure thing.” Isaac used one hand to flip a pancake and the other to ladle gravy over a plate of biscuits. “Order up!”

“We could play baseball. If you want to,” Daniel said as Miranda ushered him out the back door into the alley where he’d parked his bicycle.

“Bug collecting is fine with me.” Miranda ruffled his hair. “I know you don’t like to play.”

“Okay.” The toe of Daniel’s shoe scuffed at the dirt.

Miranda slanted a look at him. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah.” He hopped on his bicycle and Miranda stared at it in disbelief. She’d bought it on clearance two summers ago and it suddenly looked way too small for him.

Daniel was growing up too fast.

He needs a dad.

The thought came out of nowhere and blindsided her. She sucked in a ragged breath. Hadn’t she just been reliving how horrible their lives had been when she’d let Hal in? Her loneliness and vulnerability had made her a target for his manipulative personality. By trying to fill a void, she’d only ended up creating a larger one.

If she could be tricked so easily by one man, what would stop her from being tricked again?

It wasn’t worth the risk.

Andrew had a nine o’clock dinner reservation. And a sudden craving for apple pie. This would send François, the head chef at his favorite restaurant, into a culinary tantrum if he even said the words out loud. He’d end up with some puff-pastry thing the size of quarter with a slice of apple inside it that didn’t even look like an apple. Because it wouldn’t be an apple. It would be something more acceptable—like a pomegranate.

Only one place served honest-to-goodness-homemade-with-a-flaky-crust-and-oozing-with-real-apples apple pie. And it happened to be less than ten minutes away from the apartment. He’d still be on time for his dinner reservation—he just wouldn’t have to order dessert.

“Andrew!” Sandra greeted him warmly when he walked into the diner. She sat at the counter next to Isaac, a cup of coffee cradled in her hands. “Are you here for a late supper or something sweet?”

He resisted the urge to scan the dining room to see if Miranda was there. Not that he expected to see her. She’d worked the breakfast and lunch shift both times he’d eaten at the diner.

But a guy can hope….

It was worse than he’d thought. When had he become such a glutton for punishment? He had a knack for reading people and Miranda’s cool reserve stated loud and clear that she wanted to be left alone.

He glanced at the empty stools lining the counter. Tonight, he didn’t want to be the high-maintenance playboy. Not with Sandra and Isaac. “It looks like you’re closing soon.”

“Not for an hour. The grill’s still hot,” Isaac rumbled.

Andrew wondered what Chef François would say about the Starlight Diner’s gruff old cook. Tufts of white hair formed an uneven strip around the circumference of Isaac’s head and matched the eyebrows sprouting on both sides of a caricature of a nose. The stained, tarplike apron he wore didn’t quite cover the belly spilling over the top of his baggy pants. Pants held up by bright red suspenders.

He decided the two men would be trading recipes and good-natured insults within five minutes.

“Don’t mind us, we’re not usually this lazy,” Sandra said, patting the stool next to her as an invitation for Andrew to sit down. “The local news just ran a segment on our favorite hometown celebrity, Douglas Matthews. They’re saying his talk show has a shot at going national. That would certainly put Chestnut Grove on the map.”

“It’s already on the map,” Isaac muttered, but Andrew noticed his eyes were glued to the television and there was a hint of pride in his voice.

“Douglas is homegrown. I’m sure if his show is picked up by one of the big networks, we’ll be the first ones to know,” Sandra said. “Now, don’t be shy, Andrew. What can I get you?”

He decided honesty was the best policy. “Actually, I was hoping for a piece of your apple pie.”

“I think we have some in the kitchen—”

“I’ll get it.”

Andrew heard Miranda’s voice behind him and realized she must have been there all along. She wore her pink waitress uniform with her hair still scraped away from her face in a sedate twist, but now a pair of tortoise-shell glasses perched on her nose. On anyone else they might have looked severe, but on Miranda, they created a worthy frame for the velvet brown eyes. She looked beautiful. And fascinating.

“Thank you—”

Before he could finish the sentence, the doors between the kitchen and the dining room swished shut.

All right, then.

Even Isaac looked a little confused by her abrupt departure. With an apologetic glance at Andrew, he lumbered to his feet and followed her into the kitchen.

“Miranda was a finance major so she handles the books for the diner,” Sandra told him. “She’s covering for Darcy tonight but it’s been slow the last half hour so she’s juggling numbers instead.”

A finance major? Interesting.

“So the diner is part-time?” He deliberately kept his voice casual, not wanting to admit, even to himself, how curious he was about Miranda Jones’s personal life.

“No.” Sandra shook her head. “She used to work at a bank but she told me she prefers to waitress. That’s a blessing for me—she’s one of my best employees.”

Something about that bit of information struck Andrew as odd. Not the part about Miranda being a good employee but that she preferred to be a waitress. A bank definitely offered more in the way of advancement. Not to mention a higher wage. Before he could question Sandra further, Miranda returned with a slab of apple pie that sentenced him to an extra set of stomach crunches in the gym tomorrow.

Instead of looking directly at him, her gaze found a focal point over his shoulder.

“Would you like ice cream?”

“Sure.” Make it two sets.

She stood close enough for him to smell her perfume. It was a light floral fragrance, delicate and tantalizing. A totally unexpected bolt of attraction skidded through him.

Whoa.

He did what came naturally when confronted by a problem. He immediately turned to God to help him sort through it.

What is this, Lord? I don’t know anything about Miranda Jones. And she sure doesn’t act like she wants to get to know me….

“I’ll be right back.” She managed a polite smile and slipped behind the counter where a small freezer was located.

See what I mean?

Sandra leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Kelly told me about the documents Jonah found at the mansion yesterday. Ross started to sort through them today but it’s going to be a huge undertaking. He said the dates on some of them go back ten years.”

The ice-cream scoop in Miranda’s hand suddenly clattered to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, kneeling down to retrieve it.

Andrew frowned as he watched her. The color had drained from her cheeks, leaving her eyes huge in her heart-shaped face and dark with an emotion he couldn’t decipher. Embarrassment? That wouldn’t make sense. No. It had almost looked like fear.

Sandra’s hand covered his, pulling his attention back to their conversation. Tears gathered in her eyes before she could blink them away.

“Kelly has worked so hard to restore Tiny Blessings’ reputation after the damage Barnaby Harcourt caused,” she said softly. “I can’t believe she has to go through this again. Not to mention all the families who could be affected by these new documents Jonah found. I trust that God knows what He’s doing, but I can’t help but wonder why so many people have to suffer the consequences of one man’s greed.”

It didn’t surprise Andrew that Kelly Young Van Zandt had confided in Sandra. Kelly’s husband, Ross, was the private investigator Sandra had hired to find the child she’d given up years ago, so he was also the one who’d discovered that Kelly Young was Sandra’s biological daughter. The relationship between the two women had had a rocky start but now they were extremely close. Another testimony to God’s goodness.

“According to Eli and Rachel, Ben tried to find his birth mother but eventually he’d hit a dead end,” Andrew said. “If Ross has enough information to find her now, maybe Ben’s questions will be answered and something good will come out of this mess.”

“What man meant for evil, God meant for good,” Sandra quoted. Her eyes sparkled, but not from tears this time. “You’re right. Come to think of it, I’m living, breathing proof of that promise.”

So am I.

Andrew didn’t say the words out loud but the truth in them flooded him with a familiar sense of peace. The peace that had carried him through the most traumatic experience of his life.

“That’s what I’m going to pray for,” Sandra declared, striking her hand on the counter for emphasis. “That God is going to somehow shine His light into the darkness Barnaby Harcourt created.”

Andrew silently added some new names to his prayer list. Ross and Kelly. Ben. Especially Ben. Everyone had witnessed how shaken up he’d been by Jonah’s discovery. He was closer than ever to unraveling the mystery surrounding his birth and it would take a lot of strength to follow a path with no guarantee where it would end.

Miranda had unobtrusively deposited the pie and ice cream in front of him while he and Sandra had talked, but instead of going back to the booth in the corner to work on the books, she lingered behind the counter, straightening items on the shelves.

Even focused on Sandra, Andrew was acutely aware of her presence. Some of her color had returned but she still seemed fragile. What had upset her? The surge of protectiveness he felt startled him as much as that first jolt of mind-numbing attraction had.

Sandra must have caught something in his expression because she glanced over her shoulder and saw Miranda. A faint smile scooped out the dimple in her cheek.

“Oh, sugar, I should have been paying attention. It’s after nine. Let me and Isaac clean up. You have to get home.”

Andrew winced. Nine o’clock. He’d totally forgotten his dinner reservation. Forgiveness wasn’t exactly high on the temperamental chef’s list of qualities, either. Oh, well. Five minutes of drama spewed out in French was worth the unexpected bonus of seeing Miranda again.

Miranda looked torn. “I can stay a few more minutes. I’m sure Daniel won’t mind.”

Daniel?

His gaze automatically slid to Miranda’s left hand. No ring circled her finger. Not that that meant anything these days.

Disappointment crashed over him. Maybe this was the answer to his prayer. God was telling him that Miranda Jones wasn’t available. Because whomever Daniel was, he was obviously significant. There was love in her eyes when she said the name.

Chapter Five

The man had come back.

Somewhere above his head, the tread of heavy footsteps paced the floor, muffling the drone of a television. Darkness crowded him. The kind of darkness that closed in like a thick fog, swallowing every bit of light. Trying to swallow him. He could feel the man’s rage pulse through the house, seeping into the damp cracks in the walls that surrounded him.

Nowhere to hide. Any moment, the door would be flung open, allowing a rush of light in. Allowing the man to see him huddled in the corner.

No escape. No escape…

Andrew jackknifed in bed, sweat beading out of every pore. As his gaze bounced around the room, the stifling darkness gradually gave way to familiar shapes. The chair in the corner. The outline of the wardrobe where he’d hung up his suit the day before.

He sank back against the pillows, weary and wrung out. As if he’d fought a battle instead of simply falling asleep. He closed his eyes and took deep, even breaths until his heart stopped slamming against his chest and settled into a normal pattern. The nightmare hadn’t plagued him for more than three months. Why now?

Finish the story, Andrew. That wasn’t the end of it.

Andrew managed a smile as the words swept through him, removing the last traces of the nightmare.

You know what happened, Lord.

Silence. He chuckled. It was just like God to nudge him back into the memory so he wouldn’t be trapped in the black hole of his past. So he would remember he’d come out on the other side of that traumatic experience, his faith forged by the reality that God was. That He loved him.

Obediently, Andrew played through the rest of the silent tape. When fear had become as real as the darkness and had tried to suck the breath from his lungs, he’d put his hands together and had opened them like a book. He’d imagined turning the pages, telling himself the stories from the children’s Bible his grandmother had given him the week before. On his fifth birthday.

Has your God been able to rescue you?

Just like Daniel in the lion’s den, he’d been able to say yes.

There you go, Lord. The end of the story.

But in many ways, the beginning.

His eyes snapped open when his cell phone rang. A special ring tone that immediately caught his attention. The haze of sleep evaporated as he flipped it open.

“Hello?” His voice broke the silence, as clear and sharp as if it were the middle of the day.

“Terrance McCauslin. Miami,” a voice rasped the cryptic words in his ear.

“I’m listening.” Andrew sprang out of bed and padded to his laptop. He typed in his password.

GUARDIAN.

“Miranda, honey, thank goodness you’re back. You’d think the entire town smelled Isaac’s homemade sausage and decided to come out for breakfast this morning. Table six needs menus and table five needs a warm-up on his coffee.” Sandra fanned herself with an oven mitt and chuckled. “It’s Monday. Definitely.”

Sandra was the only person Miranda knew who could have half a dozen things go wrong the minute the diner opened and still be able to waltz serenely around the kitchen.

The deliveryman who dropped off the dairy order every morning hadn’t shown up, so Sandra had sent Miranda to the grocery store to purchase enough whipping cream to hold them over until he arrived.

She set the package down and slipped off her sweater. The one Darcy had suggested she retire. Instead, she’d fixed the button.

“Look, Mom! Isaac is letting me flip the pancakes all by myself!” Daniel called to her from his station by the grill, wrapped up like a mummy in an apron three sizes too big for him.

Miranda forced a smile. Too bad Sandra’s serenity couldn’t be bottled and sold like the whipping cream she’d bought. The conversation she’d overheard between Sandra and Andrew had kept her awake the past two nights.

Two years ago, she’d almost taken Daniel and left Chestnut Grove in the wake of the scandal at Tiny Blessings. Even though she trusted Daniel’s adoption had been perfectly legal, so had many other people who’d found out just the opposite. Barnaby Harcourt’s blackmail schemes were all the customers had talked about for months. Fortunately, when Sandra had hired her, Sandra, like everyone else, had assumed Daniel was Miranda’s son. With their brown hair and eyes, they even looked alike.

She took comfort in the fact no one knew Daniel had originally been adopted through Tiny Blessings. And even though Kelly’s husband, Ross, had begun the painstaking process of sorting through falsified birth certificates and adoption records, Miranda had decided the best thing was to stay in Chestnut Grove to keep an eye on his findings.

She’d finally started to let her guard down and now this. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—lose Daniel.

“I know someone who’s going to have a job here in a few years,” Sandra said, pausing to drop a kiss on the top of Daniel’s head.

If we’re still here.

Some people, Miranda knew—like Darcy—had their lives planned out for the next fifty years. Miranda had learned to accept she couldn’t be that kind of person. Experience had taught her that she couldn’t trust tomorrow. It shifted like a sandbar, leaving her scrambling for something solid.

“Look at this one,” Daniel said. “It’s not very round but Isaac says that’s okay.”

“You’re doing great, Daniel.” Miranda couldn’t help responding to the excitement in her son’s voice. She knew that flipping pancakes wasn’t the only reason Daniel had popped out of bed with a smile on his face that morning.

It was the first day of Sonshine Camp and Daniel had been thrilled when she’d told him he could spend an hour with her at the diner before leaving for the church.

True to her word, Sandra had found a ride for Daniel. Leah Cavanaugh’s daughter, Olivia, planned to attend the day camp, too. Leah had assured Miranda when she’d called the night before that it was no trouble to pick up Daniel on her way.

“It’s almost time for you to go, Daniel,” she reminded him. “You should watch out the window for Mrs. Cavanaugh.”

“I think he should stay here and help me this morning,” Isaac said. “He’ll be a short-order cook in no time.”

“Can I take it out?” Daniel asked eagerly.

“Sure can. You made them,” Isaac said before Miranda could protest. “Let me slide these eggs on the plate—gotta be careful so the yolks don’t break. Now grab the tray with both hands. Steady. There you go.”

Miranda followed Daniel through the doors, catching them before they swung back and knocked him over.

In the twenty minutes she’d been gone, the diner had filled to capacity.

Oh, no. Miranda’s heart smacked against her rib cage. Andrew Noble sat in the booth by the window. In her section. Again. He was on his way to becoming a permanent fixture at the diner. Or, at least, one of their “regulars.”

She stifled a groan, still uncertain about the strange mixture of feelings the sight of him stirred in her.

He was scanning the morning edition of the Gazette, oblivious to covert glances from female customers.

“Hey, Miranda! Can I get a couple of those blueberry muffins to go?” A woman in running clothes waved her napkin to get Miranda’s attention. Unfortunately, she got Daniel’s attention, too. He turned slightly and the tray wobbled. Instead of pausing to adjust to the shift in weight, he kept moving forward, which sent the heavy stoneware plate on a downward course toward the end of the tray.

Miranda, only a few steps behind him, saw exactly what was about to happen but was powerless to stop it. The plate bumped against the edge of the tray and the food kept going. Three buttermilk pancakes and two eggs over easy went airborne. And landed on Andrew Noble’s shoes.

“Mom!” Daniel whispered the word and the terrified look on his face brought her quickly to his side. She wrapped her arm around his trembling shoulders and gave him a comforting squeeze.

“It’s okay, Daniel,” she murmured. “It was an accident.”

Which was the truth, although she wasn’t sure if a man like Andrew Noble would see it from that perspective. Especially when the accident involved egg yolks and Italian leather.

When she gathered her courage to look at Andrew, he was staring at them with an inscrutable look on his face. Then, he grinned.

“Ah…Daniel? I’ve decided to change my order. I’d like my eggs scrambled, please.”

Then he gave Daniel a cheerful wink.

Pure, unadulterated relief coursed through Andrew. He’d just flown in from Florida an hour ago, where he’d spent a grueling twenty-four hours stuffed in the back of an unair-conditioned van while he’d tried to pinpoint the destination of an unpredictable ex-con and a frightened six-year-old.

That particular story had had a happy ending but he hadn’t stayed to witness it. He never did. There were people who tied up the loose ends for him and smiled for the six o’clock news team. It was enough for him just to know.

At the moment, adrenaline and a Thermos of the pilot’s coffee he’d had earlier—so thick with coffee grounds he’d been tempted to ask for a fork—were the only things keeping him awake.

His plan had been to shower, change his clothes and report for duty at the Foundation. Instead, he’d sat in his car outside the Starlight Diner for fifteen minutes, debating whether or not he should go inside. He was pathetic. Torn between wanting to see Miranda and having to face the fact she might be in a committed relationship with a guy named Daniel.

And she was.

Except the Daniel waiting for Miranda to come home on Friday night was her son.

Even without swim goggles covering most of the serious little face, Andrew immediately recognized the boy whose towel he’d pulled out of the bicycle chain a few days ago. And now that the two were side by side, he could see the faint resemblance.

Both had glossy brown hair and delicate features almost eclipsed by enormous brown eyes, but while Miranda’s held fascinating glints of gold, Daniel’s were as dark as espresso.

Even though he’d tried to defuse the tension with humor, both pairs of eyes were still fixed on him. And filled with apprehension.

“Daniel…run and get a bucket and a rag from Isaac,” Miranda murmured.

She pulled a cache of napkins out of her apron pocket and looked down at his shoes, her intention clear.

Not in this lifetime.

“I’ll take care of it, Miranda.” Andrew reached out and caught her hand. He hadn’t meant to sound so abrupt but he couldn’t understand the fear radiating from her. What did she expect him to do? Shout “Off with their heads”?

Miranda yanked her hand away.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Noble. Daniel loves to help in the kitchen and…well, I’ll pay to have your shoes cleaned or replaced.”

She’d just insulted him and didn’t even know it. Andrew drew in a breath and released it. Slowly. “That’s not necessary. It was an accident.”

Daniel returned with the bucket and Andrew gave him another smile as he gently removed it from the boy’s hands. Miranda made a sound of protest. He ignored her.

“I didn’t know you worked here, Daniel.” He unbuttoned his cuffs and pushed his sleeves back. It only took three efficient swipes to remove the goo from his shoes. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Or is this a cover?”

“My mom works here.” Daniel giggled.

He’d obviously remembered Andrew, too, and he didn’t look as scared as he had a few minutes ago.

“How are the knees? All healed up?”

“Better.” Daniel hiked up the hems of his cargo shorts a few inches to let Andrew inspect them.

“They look pretty good.”

Miranda frowned at him, her expression wary. “How did you—”

“I happened to be there when his beach towel and his bicycle chain decided to get acquainted,” Andrew explained.

Daniel nodded vigorously. “He got it unstuck.”

“Oh.” Miranda caught her full lower lip between her teeth while she processed that unexpected news.

“Miranda?” Sandra hurried over to them, her round cheeks flushed with color from all the activity in the diner. “Leah’s waiting outside.”

Andrew watched Miranda scrub an invisible speck of dirt off Daniel’s chin while he stood as still as a statue and took it like a man. Andrew remembered his mom doing the same thing. “Be good today,” she said. “And have fun. Mrs. Cavanaugh is bringing you back here when camp is over, so be sure to watch for her.”