Touchdown - Leslie North Page 0,11

she headed down the stone path. “Bye, Maxwell.”

He croaked out a goodbye, watching as she headed for the driveway. She slid into the driver’s seat of her moss-green SUV, which somehow fit her perfectly, and he waved again as she pulled down the driveway and away from his house.

Daily visits.

That’s what he had to prepare himself for.

He just hoped he had enough sense to remember to keep his hands off her.

5

That Tuesday, Jill found herself with an unexpectedly free afternoon and a to-do list a mile long.

Her first instinct was to go see the kids—and by extension, Maxwell—even though she loved to remind herself every time Maxwell came up in her thoughts that he was only a colleague. Like her work partners. Someone she collaborated with in an effort to reach a common goal.

And for her and Maxwell, that common goal was raising the triplets.

Nothing else.

And most certainly nothing to do with getting to know him on an intimate level, as her body liked to occasionally argue.

She sighed and squeezed the steering wheel of her SUV as she idled in the parking lot of the new dental center she’d be opening soon with her two partners. It had previously functioned as a dental clinic, so there weren’t many upgrades needed. And everything was miraculously on schedule—the three of them were kicking butt and taking names.

Which meant the most pressing thing remaining on her to-do list was also the biggest and most unsavory. Get a start on Wayne’s estate.

She’d avoided going to his house for a few reasons. Initially, the grief of losing Wayne and missing his funeral was too raw. But now, the house represented the mother of all to-do items. His and Carmen’s wills dictated that the house be sold and all monies earned transferred to trusts for the kids. But selling the house meant emptying it. Sorting through every last item of theirs. Figuring out what to keep and what to sell. And the thought alone gave her a headache.

But it had to be done. And maybe today she could at least attempt to start.

With a deep breath, Jill maneuvered her brand-new SUV through the parking lot and into the midday Savannah traffic. She’d purchased it on a whim about two months ago, back when she’d made her exploratory visit to Savannah to determine if she really did want to move back here. And her time spent with Carmen and Wayne and the kids then had convinced her—yes, she needed to come home. So she’d started the slow process of moving her life from the Caribbean back to Georgia.

The trip to Wayne’s house was short, since they’d lived near the dental center in a brick townhome with a cute, postage-stamp front yard and a multicolor mailbox that Carmen had insisted they paint in order to attract the mailman’s attention. She smiled as she pulled into the driveway, her mind wandering over as many pleasant memories as she could stand.

Jill fished the house key out of her purse and headed for the front door, bracing herself for whatever she might find. Pushing inside, she found the place eerily lived-in. Jackets still hung in the front closet, as though Wayne and Carmen would be stopping by at any time to use them again. A rumpled blanket was thrown over the back of the sofa, just as it had been dropped. Because this house had been lived-in, up until the accident that took them away from this world three weeks ago.

Carmen’s parents—including Maxwell’s father—had taken temporary custody of the kids right after the accident and had done their part to pack up all the things the triplets would need from then on out, as well as tossing all the perishable food into the trash. But that still left a whole world of belongings here. Jill stepped through the house carefully, a sick knot in her gut. The last time she’d been here, she and Wayne and Carmen had laughed for hours after the kids went to bed, sharing ridiculous childhood stories. And now…

She wiped a few tears away. It was better to start somewhere than to not start at all—that was something she lived by. She chose the living room. She’d give herself an hour or two, make what little headway she could, and then pivot to something else on her to-do list.

After digging up some boxes from the kitchen, she started three piles: definitely keep, unsure, and definitely sell or donate. Whatever she was unsure about, she’d get Maxwell’s opinion