Man Of The Family

Griffin didn’t know what else to say. With Amanda this would be par for the course, but she had stayed out of the line of fire and was talking to Dixie in her room. He could hear the low, long-suffering tone she always used.

“Josh, this isn’t a good time,” he said. No way would Griffin put himself in Sunny Donovan’s sights again. Before he saw her, if he ever saw her, he had to get Amanda to tell him the truth about the stolen watch. Sunny’s unwanted advice still rang in his ears, but since Josh had melted down in the car, his son was uppermost in his mind.

Strike two, he thought. Obviously relying on Josh to stay cute and easy to handle hadn’t worked out that well.

“This is a good time for me,” Josh insisted. “Grandpa Jack’s waiting. He said we can play horseshoes today, and I’m gonna win.” He paused. “We’ll make a bet.”

Josh didn’t even know what a bet was. “Where did you hear that?”

“From Mandi. She says Grandpa Jack will pay me when I win.”

“Great,” Griffin murmured. Talk about unasked-for advice. “The way things are going, Amanda will have you playing poker in some casino before you’re ten years old.” Not likely but still, she was a bad influence these days, as if she wanted to get Josh in trouble. “Remember how your sister’s ‘help’ turned out last time?”

Josh gave him a deer-in-the-headlights look. “I don’t ’member.”

“Yes, you do, Josh. She told you to ‘clean’ your plate—on to the floor. Did you really think I wouldn’t see the mess?”

Josh’s mouth set. “I don’t like that hamburger stuff you make.”

The one-pot meat and noodles meal was one of Griffin’s best efforts, his version of goulash.

“Well, that’s what we had for dinner,” he said. “I’m not a short-order cook. What you see in front of you is what you get that night. And I expect you to finish.”

For that he got a mutinous glare. Too bad. The counselor had told him that maintaining authority was always a good choice. “Amanda is already testing me at every opportunity. You need limits, too.” And until now Josh had observed them.

“At Grandma Kate’s I can eat anything I want. That’s what she told me,” he added with a nod. “And if it rains and thunders, I don’t have to be outside.”

“That may be. But we’re still staying home.” He paused. “You won’t have to be outdoors in the rain here, either. I promise.”

In a flash Josh’s scowl dominated his face. He took a single step toward the hallway to his room—his usual destination when he lost an argument—then stopped. His body vibrating with anger, he turned. His cheeks were purple now.

“I don’t like you! You’re mean!” he yelled.

The words hit Griffin right in the chest. He inhaled sharply, but before he got the chance to exhale—and try to calm himself—Amanda appeared. She didn’t even recoil when Josh stomped past her, bumping her side.

“What did you do?” she asked, the freckles on her nose standing out.

Griffin struggled for the right tone, not wanting to set off another explosion. As the door to Josh’s room slammed shut, he said quietly, “Your call to Dixie finished?”

“She called me,” Amanda corrected him.

“Whatever,” he said, using one of her favorite terms. “I told Josh we’re not going to the cookout at the Cabots’ house today. He didn’t care for my decision.”

“Oh. Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I suppose I’m the reason we’re not going. What else?”

Griffin didn’t follow her logic. But lately, Amanda seemed to think everything was about her.

“I mean, just because I had Mrs. Donovan’s stupid watch in my room—like that proves I’m guilty—you’d be too embarrassed to be seen with me. Just because she’ll be there, too—”

“Amanda.”

“Okay. I confess,” she said. Saying the word made her freckles darken. “I took her watch.”

His heart began to pound. “Is that the truth?”

“Yes!” She gulped in a breath. “Are you satisfied now?”

His hands fisted at his sides. “Why would I be satisfied?”

“Because you always thought I was guilty.”

He counted to three before he said, “Amanda, you know stealing is a crime. Sunny Donovan cut you some slack because you’re family—her brother’s niece. She hoped we could settle this among ourselves.” His fists loosened, then tightened again. “I’m not satisfied. I’m ashamed of you. I haven’t raised my daughter to take things that don’t belong to her.”

“You didn’t raise me. Mom did.”

He clenched his jaw. “Then what would she think?”

Amanda’s chin went up. “Maybe she’d be proud of me. She stole a lot of money from you,” she said, but her eyes didn’t meet his.

It was all he could do not to sag against the nearest piece of furniture for support. What had happened to his family? He wanted to rail at Rachel for leaving, for acting like a thief, but Amanda’s words had punctured his spirit.

“Yes, she did,” he said at last. Another bit of truth. “But it ends there.”

Amanda gave him the same blank stare he’d gotten from Josh.

“Get your little brother,” he said. “He’ll apologize to me for being rude. Then we’ll take the three-bean salad I made this morning, drive over to the Cabots’ house for the cookout, and you can apologize—in person—to Sunny Donovan.”

* * *

SHE WASN’T LOOKING forward to the cookout, but at least the sun was shining. Sunny was in the kitchen helping her mother with the preparations when she heard another car pull into the driveway. Dropping her paring knife, she hurried into the front hall to peek out the window. And groaned aloud.

The van could only belong to Griffin. All the other guests had arrived and were already in the backyard gathered around the ice chest full of drinks. Sunny glimpsed Amanda in the van’s front seat wearing a scowl, arms crossed over her chest. The car seat in back held a small boy she recognized as Griffin’s son.

Let the party begin.

Moments later, a small bundle of energy exploded through the front door. Her dad was there to pull Josh into a hug, his sneakered feet flying off the ground. Then he set the boy down and ruffled his hair.

“Hey, Josh. Glad you could make it.”

“We weren’t going to come,” he said with a solemn look. “But Daddy changed his mind.” He broke into a smile. “Grandpa Jack, can we do horseshoes now?”

“I promised, didn’t I?” Her father turned to Sunny, who was bent upon reaching the safety of the den. He reintroduced her to Josh, but after a brief handshake with Sunny, Josh ran for the kitchen, then out the back door.

“Wish I had his get-up-and-go,” her father muttered.

“He’s adorable, Dad.”

“Sure is.” Then he, too, was headed out to the yard before Sunny could resume her attempt to flee. And Griffin was in the hallway with Amanda trailing behind.

For a moment Sunny took them in. One sullen-looking girl, one too-handsome-for-his-own-good man, his dark hair glossy, those amazing hazel eyes looking grim. Then reality returned. So much for her hope he wouldn’t come today.

Griffin nodded. “Counselor,” he said but didn’t stop. Carrying a ceramic bowl sealed with plastic wrap, he aimed for the kitchen. Apparently he hadn’t forgotten their latest encounter in this very hallway.

That left Sunny to face Amanda. Or so she thought.

Without even a simple hello, her head down, Griffin’s daughter rushed past her toward Sunny’s mom, who was putting the finishing touches on a green salad at the kitchen island. Amanda flung herself into her arms.

“There’s my girl,” Sunny’s mother said with a wide smile. Like Sunny, or rather vice versa, she was a hugger, and for long moments the two chattered away as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. Hearing the girl laugh told Sunny theirs was a good, and probably necessary, relationship right now.

In order to maintain the peace, Sunny reversed course. Surely no one would miss her for a while, and she could collect herself in the den. Her parents’ cookout was no place to tangle with Griffin.

Sunny wasn’t in the best mood anyway. She’d spent half the morning on the phone to New York again, making nice with Judge Ramsay. The contempt citation had to be dealt with, too, and now her credit card had a bigger balance due.

She was checking the transaction online when someone rapped at her door.

“Come in,” Sunny called, thinking her mother needed her in the kitchen. Her dad made a big thing of grilling hamburgers and hot dogs and cooking his famous barbecued ribs, but Mom would provide the rest of the meal for more than twenty people. That meant at least a half dozen side dishes to prepare. And too many mouth-watering desserts.

Instead, Amanda peered around the half-open door.

“May I come in?” She sounded like someone headed to the guillotine. “My father says I have to talk to you.”

Sunny nearly fell off her dad’s desk chair. Well, what do you know? Maybe her message had registered, after all.

“Sure. Have a seat,” she said, indicating the nearby sofa bed that had become her personal torture rack.

Amanda remained standing. “This won’t take long,” she said. Arms crossed, she glanced at Sunny’s wrist, her mouth turned down at the corners. “I did take your watch. I’m sorry.”

Her tone said otherwise. “Are you really?” Sunny asked.

The judge had asked her the same question earlier. And, no, Sunny wasn’t sorry for her rant about Wallace Day’s unfair punishment.

Amanda almost smiled. “Not that sorry,” she admitted.

“Okay.” Sunny stood up and folded her arms in a mirror image of Amanda’s posture. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Why don’t you tell me why you took my watch? It’s not as if you tried to hide it afterward. I saw it on you at school, and so did your friend.”

“It’s a stupid watch. I didn’t even like it.”

“You’re entitled to your opinion. To me, it’s a fun piece of jewelry. It reminds me that I don’t always have to take life so seriously. There’s the buttoned-down suit I have to wear for work, and then there’s my little rebellion.” She paused. “What’s yours, Amanda?”

A shrug was her only answer, but her gaze shifted away from Sunny.

“You must have known you’d get caught,” she said softly. “You even laid this watch on a bureau where your father would see it.”

Another shrug. A tiny tremor of her mouth.

From the yard Sunny heard the clang of horseshoes hitting a post. Her dad’s laughter and then little Josh’s giggles rang out. Her parents’ friends and neighbors were talking, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Except Amanda, of course.

“In my years as a prosecutor, I’ve often been called upon to feel out a witness, and, many times, it’s been a girl like you.” She hesitated. “I was once a teenager myself,” she said. “I’ve become a good listener.”

Amanda gazed out the window toward where everyone else was having fun. Her glance, her every motion, told Sunny how unhappy she was. She had to fight the urge to pull Amanda into her arms, as she would have Ana Ramirez, saving her from Wallace Day. Saving the girl Sunny used to be.

She tried once more. “Do you have something against me, Amanda?”

Griffin’s daughter looked startled, as if that had never occurred to her.

“No,” she finally said in a sullen tone. Eyes still on the window.

“Then taking my watch just seemed like a good idea at the time?” Sunny’s tone was wry. “A matter of poor impulse control?”

“I guess.” At last, she looked away from the window. “Can I go now?”

Sunny wanted to say no. There was more here, hidden beneath the surface, but she wasn’t prepared to interrogate the girl. Amanda was Griffin’s responsibility. At least he’d made her admit to the theft. And she didn’t seem to resent Sunny personally. Maybe she had a grudge against Career Day.

“You may go,” she said. “I appreciate the apology.”

Amanda made a scoffing sound. “Don’t think it means anything.”

The door closed behind her while Sunny was still pondering the words.

* * *

GRIFFIN TOOK HIS TIME. He helped Josh play another game of horseshoes. He hung around the cooler with the Cabots’ friends and neighbors and even enjoyed the sense of camaraderie with new people who had no idea of his life before, or even now. He took his turn at the grill, searing hot dogs and seasoning burgers and slathering ribs with more sauce. Slowly, he could feel himself begin to unwind.

He’d needed this. Since the move from Boston he hadn’t had much opportunity to socialize except chatting now and then with the residents. With the kids to consider, he’d had little spare time. The sum total of his circle outside of work had been Bron and Chris. Now, sharing laughter and corny jokes, he told himself that his own apology to Sunny could wait.

Chris sauntered toward him, looking around the yard. “Where’s my sister?”

Bron, her arm linked with his, smiled at him. “Keeping a low profile.”

“She’s avoiding me,” Griffin said.

But he was keeping out of her way, too. It was as if they’d made some secret pact.

“Why?” Bron asked. “Because you exchanged a few words about the watch?”

He flinched. Did the whole town know about Amanda?

“And when Mandi came outside,” Bron went on, “she said she had apologized.” Amanda was in a group of younger kids now, and it looked as though she was teasing—or bullying?—one of them. Griffin kept an eye on her.

“I doubt that cleared the air with Sunny.”

“Well, today it should,” Bron said, then dragged Chris away. Dinner was almost ready, and the heavy, mouthwatering aroma of barbecue filled the air.

“Remember,” Chris called over his shoulder. “You, me, Bron and Sunny. Some night. Soon.”

Yeah, sure. Like that would work out any better than his last conversation with Sunny. No matter how pretty she looked.

The back door opened. And here she came in cutoff shorts and a one-shoulder shirt, walking across the yard with a pair of bowls in her hands. Potato salad and baked beans, he saw. Griffin didn’t hesitate. He jumped to relieve her of one of them and got a faint smile in return.

“Thanks. If you want to help, there’s more where these came from.”

She lingered at the table until he’d gone inside. When he came out again with his three-bean salad and a fresh six-pack of sodas for the cooler, she headed for the house.

When everyone sat down to eat, she chose the farthest seat from his on the opposite side of the table. Josh, however, was near Sunny, sticking close to Jack’s side. Amanda was giggling with some other girls, eating dinner with them on a blanket under a big oak tree. For the moment, he was off duty.

Trying not to notice how Sunny kept her distance, he tucked into his dinner. The corn on the cob was sweet and juicy. Jack’s famous spareribs practically melted in his mouth, and the spicy yet mellow barbecue sauce was perfection. Kate’s homemade lemonade capped off the superb feast.

By the time everyone finished, the sun was sinking low in the sky. Griffin bused plates and plastic cups to the kitchen, scraped bits into the garbage—there wasn’t much of the delicious food to be tossed—then ambled out into the yard again.

Still at the table, Josh was enjoying a huge slab of watermelon for dessert, his chin dripping juice. Amanda was with the girls under the tree, examining someone’s bracelet. He hoped it didn’t disappear. Jack and Chris had snuck around the corner of the house to savor their cigars with a few of the neighborhood men, but Griffin wasn’t a smoker. He didn’t care for the pungent scent that filled the air and competed with the lingering aroma of meat and veggies from the grill. He needed to set a good example for his kids.

Instead of joining the other men, he wandered to the corner of the back lawn for a rare moment alone. Feeling his spirit mellow, he gazed at the setting sun. Streaks of red and purple and pink spread out across the sky.

“Nothing like a Florida sunset,” he said to himself.

“Better than Boston?” Sunny’s voice brought his head around. She was bent over a nearby hibiscus bush with a pair of garden shears in her hand.

When she spoke, Griffin’s pulse took off like a runner from the starting gate. It was one thing to help her carry food for the cookout, quite another to be alone with her.

“Boston can be good,” he said, “but the show here is a lot more, well, showy.” Like the afternoon rains.

She dropped the scissors, then picked up a bunch of blossoms from the grass at her feet. She was still wearing the red polish that peeked out from her sandals. “I’ll leave you then, to commune with nature.”

“Wait.” Before he could tell himself not to, Griffin stopped her. And fumbled for an excuse. “Thanks,” he said at last. “I’m glad Amanda apologized. You were right. She did take your watch.”

Sunny half smiled. “And you didn’t let her get away with it.”

He shouldn’t care that she sounded proud of him. He shouldn’t be staring at that little uptilt at the corners of her mouth. “So, what am I missing?” he said, because nothing involving his daughter was ever simple these days. “Did she even sound sincere?”

“She...tried.” Sunny hesitated. “But you didn’t welcome my interference before, and I doubt you’ve changed your mind. I’m out of the advice-giving business.”

Ouch. Forcing his gaze away from her, he noticed the growing darkness. The sun had slipped lower in the sky, and the colors had bled into a deeper shade of almost burgundy that made her lighter shirt seem to glow. “I’m impressed, Counselor. Didn’t imagine you’d give up that easily.”

“I have my moments.” She shifted the flowers in her arms. Her watch sparkled on her wrist. “I need to put these in water. They won’t last long—but I keep trying. Except with Amanda,” she added, then took a step away.

“Sunny,” he said, “I owe you an apology myself. I didn’t exactly put out the welcome mat the other day. And, well—Chris told me—I was sorry to learn about your divorce.”

“So am I,” she said.

Griffin blew out a breath. “You already know about my situation.”

Her face softened. “You don’t know where your wife is now. And—I’m treading on dangerous ground again here—that hasn’t helped Amanda.”

“Or Josh,” he said. “She’s defiant. He’s fearful.” Griffin told her about the flat tire, the car rocking at the side of the road every time another semi blew past. “I think he equates Rachel’s disappearance with death itself, a concept he’s only beginning to understand.”

“I couldn’t imagine leaving my children like that,” she said.

His tone hardened. “Neither can I.”

“But then, I don’t. Have children, I mean.” Sunny was all but strangling the hibiscus blossoms. “I see so many troubled kids in my work. Of course their cases usually involve violence, but the emotional damage is always severe. I wish I could help them more. But I’m rarely their lawyer. I’m on the other side of the issue—prosecuting the person who harmed someone they love.”

“That’s helping, too,” he pointed out, trying not to notice how the fading light made her skin softly shine.

“They break my heart, though. Young girls like Amanda,” she said, stumbling a little on the last, “having to deal with grown-up matters they can barely comprehend. Why would someone hurt them, their families, that way?”

The raw emotion in her voice made him study her more closely.

Yet asking probing questions was her style, not his, and Griffin didn’t know why he’d felt the urge to push. He could tell she wouldn’t like it.

She clutched the flowers even more tightly. “But enough about me,” she said. “Or rather, my work. How do you like Jacksonville?”

Griffin had been asked that very question at least a hundred times since the move. “I like it fine.”

Sunny tilted her head as if she guessed he was lying. “You don’t miss Boston? And being on TV? Chris told me you’d only been in the anchor position for a year or so. You were their golden boy, he said.”

“Until Rachel took off. Not to blame her for the job I have now—or the move.” He paused. “In Boston, I couldn’t afford to keep Josh in day care, or put Amanda in some after school program. I never finished at the station until almost midnight some days—most days—and then they were missing Rachel. I couldn’t have them missing me, which was way too familiar.”

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