bunch of loud kids and a mess of a dog. His new book was about a small town. About families. And the only way he was going to get in touch with the story milling around inside him was to embrace the crazy.
His nieces and nephew were giving him exactly what he needed, not only for his story, but for this point in his life. Dan was tired of being at odds with himself, of fighting for his peace of mind. He knew somewhere, deep down, was his happy place, but he was still struggling to find it.
He came to the door of the cottage and Tammy the dog bounded over when she spotted him. Large for her breed, the dog’s coat was more creamy than yellow, making her stand out against the colorful fall leaves like a scoop of vanilla ice cream. The joy that poured off the dog was palpable, and Dan could only smile at the rest of the chaos that ran his way.
“Uncle Dan! Uncle Dan!” The chorus of small voices almost drowned out Lindsey Buckingham’s screaming guitar. Music often set the tone for his writing, and in this case, it was about the character’s memories. His memories. That’s what was going to make this book different. Special. And a damn big risk.
“Did you get your words today?” His oldest niece, Ella, was his taskmaster. Every day since he’d arrived, she checked with him, holding his feet to the fire and asking about his plan for the book. She was brainy and artistic, with a lovely sweet soul. He figured she was going to run the world someday. She’d be disappointed if he told her all he had were impressions and feelings surrounding what he wanted to do—the words were fighting him.
“Not as many as I’d hoped. I was thinking a change of scenery might be in order. Does anyone want to go to town and get some hot chocolate?”
“Meeee!” All three kids raised their hands and bounced up and down on the stone walkway in front of the cottage. Even the dog barked.
“It looks as if we have a consensus. Go inside, and check with your mother. If she’s okay with it, we’ll go in…” he looked at his watch “…thirty minutes.”
The kids didn’t need to be asked twice. With giggles and rapid-fire chatter, they dashed into the house. His sister would either be pissed at him for messing up their after-school routine, or thrilled for an hour of peace to collect herself after her own long day.
His sister was a doctor. A family practitioner, she worked four days a week, and tag-teamed the kids with her husband who was a teacher. It was a crazy life, but they always sat down for dinner together no matter how busy things were. Their life was a collection of routines, and those predictable patterns provided a safe haven that made the family the center of everything.
Since he’d arrived a few weeks ago, he’d taken a seat at the table, and there was nothing better. Following the kids into the house, he heard them all talking at once, an excited rush of syllables merging together like a human symphony. His sister was picking words out of the cacophony and finally shushed all of them, directing her gaze at him.
“I got Uncle Danny, town, and hot chocolate out of that. Perhaps you can explain?” Her eyes narrowed like a mom, but her mouth ticked up in the corner like the little sister he knew. She was always full of fire and energy, and even though she had an MD at the end of her name, Melinda Gallo Beck hadn’t changed a bit.
“I thought I’d get them out of your hair for a little while. I need to stretch my legs and they need to burn off a little energy.” It sounded like a reasonable plan to him. He doubted she would object.
“So, you’re going to sugar them up?” One eyebrow shot up inquisitively, but the sparkle in Mel’s eyes was pure mischief.
It was only a little sugar. He wasn’t going to have them mainline cookies and ice cream. “It’s a hot chocolate and a trip to the bookstore. How bad can it be? If we go now, I’ll have them home in time to get all their homework done before dinner.”
“I hate homework.” The grumbling came from his middle niece, Jamie, who at eight had the attitude of a hormonal thirteen-year-old. She was sharp-witted and read people like an