every other Wednesday. Ballet on Thursdays.
Homework done? I asked, feeling a bit like a curmudgeon.
Yes. And Millie says to tell you she practiced piano already, and Felicity wants you to know she read two chapters in her book.
Sounds like you have everything under control. Was the driving bad?
Roads were slippery. I went slow. Be careful!!
I assured her I would and tried to get a few more things done at my desk, but found it hard to concentrate. I was about to call it a day when my phone vibrated.
Ryan Woods calling, it said on the screen.
I smiled and picked it up. “I thought you were dead, asshole.”
Woods laughed. “Nah. Just busy.”
“I bet. How’s everything going with the wedding plans?”
“Pretty good. Although what the fuck do I know?”
“You ready to do this thing?”
“Yeah. That, I know.”
I laughed. “Good.”
Woods was a buddy from the Marines, although by now he was like a brother to me. We’d been deployed together in Afghanistan and had remained tight. Like me, he’d struggled to adjust to his old life once he got back for good, and I got him a job at Cloverleigh as well as a place to live. The house had been a mess before he moved in and refurbished it.
Despite being busy, he’d found time to fall in love with Stella Devine, the granddaughter of Mrs. Gardner next door. She’d come up from Detroit for a visit, Woods had taken one look at her and that was that. When he moved down to Detroit to be with her, the girls and I moved into the house. He and Stella were getting married at Cloverleigh in a few weeks. I was the best man.
Hopefully I wouldn’t jinx him.
“So when are you coming up?” I asked. “Am I supposed to be planning some kind of bachelor night?”
“No,” he said emphatically. “Neither Stella nor I want anything like that. I’d settle for a few beers somewhere. We’re coming up on the Wednesday before the wedding, and Thursday is the day Stella and her sisters are doing some kind of all-day girl thing, so maybe we can hang out that night.”
“Done,” I said. “My parents get in that day, and God knows I’ll need to escape the house. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too.” He lowered his voice. “All this wedding shit is driving me crazy. I’m trying to be interested and involved, but Jesus fuck.”
I laughed. “I can imagine.”
“And the cost—my God, we want to pay for everything ourselves, but I had no idea how expensive things are. And her sister Emme, who’s a wedding planner, has talked her into all these extras. It’s insanity. Stella has lost her mind, I swear.”
“Well, we knew that. She’s marrying you, isn’t she?”
He laughed. “Fuck off.”
“I’d better go. We’re getting a ton of snow tonight,” I told him. “The roads will probably be bad.”
“Yeah, we’re getting some here too, but not like you guys are up there. Can’t say I miss it.”
We hung up, and I packed it in for the night. Up at reception, I said goodbye to Frannie’s mom, who looked anxious.
“Oh, there you are,” she said, knotting her hands together. “I’ve been texting Frannie. It’s so bad out there, I don’t want her to drive in the dark. The roads will be icy.”
“I’ll bring her back, Daphne,” I assured her. “Don’t worry.”
“Okay.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’d send John to come get her, but I worry that his eyesight isn’t great for night driving.”
“No problem. Really. My tires are good in the snow, and it’s a short ride.”
She smiled in relief. “Thanks, Mack. You have daughters, so you know how it is.”
“I do. Have a good night.”
But as I hurried out to the parking lot and impatiently brushed off my car, I realized it wasn’t only my daughters I was so eager to get home and see—it was her daughter too.
Mack
The blizzard was in full force. The roads were awful, and traffic crawled. Normally, the ride between my house and Cloverleigh was only about fifteen minutes, but today it took nearly two white-knuckled, curse-muttering hours. Not only did the snow and ice slow me down, but twice I had to pull over and help out other drivers. One lady had gotten herself stuck in a ditch, and some guy had spun out onto the shoulder trying to take a curve too quickly.
By the time I pulled into the garage at the back of the property where we lived, Frannie’s little Volkswagen was pretty well buried