risky, unstable one.”
“Are you talking about that ski resort in your town?”
“Yeah. Cool you remember it.”
“I think it sounds incredible. Congratulations.”
“My family thinks I’ve gone off the deep end.”
“I know the feeling. The first time I disappointed my parents was the moment I was born.”
“What, did you have a tail or something?”
“Ha-ha.”
“I’ve heard those can be removed.”
“It’s what I
“What’s that?”
“A penis. After four girls, they were desperate for a boy.”
“You have four older sisters. And I thought I had it bad, with India and China.”
“And how is it your sisters were named after exotic foreign countries while you were named after an airport?”
“Quirky folks. I just feel lucky they didn’t call me Madagascar or Sri Lanka.”
“Yet another thing we have in common—quirky parents. Mine are English professors. My sisters and I are named after literary figures. I guess that makes them quirky but predictable.”
“Darcy. I can’t recall a Darcy from college English.”
“Hint—it’s a surname.”
He gave a short laugh. “As in Fitzwilliam Darcy? You’re named after Mr. Darcy?”
“It gets worse. My sisters are Mary, Kitty, Lydia and Lizzie. My full name is Darcy Jane.” She punctuated the list by plopping chunks of potato into a pot of cold water.
“Don’t tell me Lydia is married to a reverend...”
“Worse. A motivational speaker, who happens to be the brother of my ex.”
“And suddenly it all comes clear. You came to Florida to escape the dubious pleasures of the family Thanksgiving.”
“Exactly. It’s so much easier to get along with other people’s families.”
“Agreed. And can I just say, this dinner is going to be epic.” He slid the turkey into the oven. Then he looked around the kitchen and wiped his hands on a tea towel. “We’re finished for now. There’s nothing more to be done for about three hours. Let’s hit the beach.”
He flashed that killer smile again. Oh, why did he have to have a killer smile?
Working alongside Darcy Fitzgerald in the kitchen didn’t suck. Logan freely acknowledged that. He kind of liked talking to her. He kind of liked
Yeah, he liked her, but she wasn’t his type. Life was simpler without the complication of a divorce survivor. And she didn’t even
“Time for the beach,” he said. “You’re going to love it.”
“Lead on, Kemosabe.”
He walked through the breezeway and held the back door for her. His folks’ place had all the perks—an infinity pool and lush gardens, a small grove of orange and calamondin trees, a tennis court, a golf course bordering one side of the yard and on the other side, a scenic path through a bird marsh leading to the beach.
“Not too shabby,” she remarked, pausing to get a phone picture of a group of roosting flamingos.
“We spend every Thanksgiving here. The setting is not exactly traditional, though.”
“Traditions are overrated,” she said.
“Yeah? Which ones?”
“The ones that throw you together with people you don’t get along with and force you to pretend to have a good time.”
“Ouch.”
“Those are the traditions I’m talking about.”
“Well, when you put it that way...”
“Sorry.” A grin flashed beneath the wide brim of the hat. “Obviously my divorce did a number on me. I’ll get over it. I take it you got through yours.”
“More or less intact. The hardest part is splitting Charlie’s time. Makes me mental.” He ground his back teeth, thinking about the past couple of months. “The worst part for me is that he’s moving with his mother and stepfather to Japan.”
“Whoa, Japan?”
“My ex’s husband is in the air force. They’re moving right after Christmas, and they’ll be away for three years.”
“Sounds challenging.”
“It’s totally screwed up, but I’m going to have to make it work. Charlie has been flying on his own back and forth between his mom and me for the past couple of years, so he’s an old hand at it.”
Having to shuttle back and forth between parents had turned Charlie into an independent traveler. But the grin that lit his face each time he saw Logan was all little boy. The fact was, every time Logan saw his little boy walk through the arrivals door at the airport, with his backpack and roll-aboard in tow, travel documents in a packet around his neck, he nearly lost it. Yet for Charlie’s sake, he held himself together, told the kid he was proud of him. The Unaccompanied Minor guide could barely keep up with him as Charlie ran to fill his father’s arms. Logan never tired of feeling that rush of love and relief washing over him the moment they were reunited.
“If he’s an old hand, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“But an overseas flight? I’m nervous as hell about how he’ll handle it.”
“Is Charlie nervous?”
“Good question.”
“I bet he’ll surprise you. I was a great adventurer as a kid, always up for anything.”
Logan found it easy to picture her as a kid, with pigtails and scraped knees. Then he thought about his son. “Charlie’s supercautious sometimes. Last summer, there was zip-lining at Camp Kioga, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Not even when every other kid went for it.”
“I’m no expert, but I bet fear of the unknown is common in kids. Come to think of it, it’s common in adults, too.”
“You’d love zip-lining,” he said.
“How do you know?”
“Just a hunch.”
She smiled and ducked her head. Her smile did something funny to his insides. Then, as they reached the end of the path leading to the beach, she said, “Well, this is a great place to come home to. He’s a lucky kid.”
“That’s a nice thing to say. I hope he feels lucky.”
“Why wouldn’t he? Look where we are.” They stepped onto the sun-warmed sand together. He heard her catch her breath as she clapped a hand atop her head to keep her hat from sailing away in the breeze.
“Amazing,” she said, surveying the expanse of brown-sugar sand. The area was bordered by private cabanas. Closer to the surf, the sand was dotted with umbrellas and family groups. Kids played in the waves, and barefoot couples strolled along together. “So this was your childhood playground? It’s fantastic here.”
Their first stop would be at the O’Donnell cabana—yes, the O’Donnells had been homeowners at Paradise
