Well, maybe it was her turn to be interrogated, then. He could ask her a bunch of personal questions and see how she liked it.
If he could think of any.
What did people talk about? What could he possibly ask about her life? She lived in a house, went to school, and volunteered at that wildlife preserve for feral children. What else was there? He thought of Evi. What would he ask her if she were here?
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
He imagined his baby girl in the arms of some shaggy-haired bum and shuddered.
Rae concentrated on the road. “No. Boys aren’t part of my plan right now.”
His brow puckered. “Your plan? You have a plan?”
“Of course. First, I have to get my license, obviously. Then a job. Then I have to keep my spot on the varsity basketball team and break the record for most three-pointers in a season. After that, I have to ace the SAT, become president of the National Honor Society, and graduate valedictorian so I can get into Columbia. And then . . .”
Her voice wavered. Certainty turned to doubt.
“Then what?” he prodded. “What will you study?”
“I’m going to be a lawyer.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”
“I know exactly where I’m going to be in ten years. But I’m not completely sure after that.”
“I don’t think you need to plan any further than that.”
Something shifted in her expression, though he didn’t know what.
“Tell that to my dad.”
She said it so quietly, he wasn’t sure if it was meant for him or not. He decided to let it go.
“See my driveway?”
She sat up straighter. “I won’t miss it this time.”
She slowed the truck to a crawl and gave herself an hour and a half to make the turn. Felt like it, anyway. His hands grew clammy, and his heart rate rose as he glanced up and down the road for other cars, but there was no rushing her. Had he mentioned he wasn’t a patient man?
They pulled up to the house without incident. Rae tucked her cat back into her sweatshirt, then turned to him. “How’d I do?”
He nodded. “You didn’t kill anything.”
“I need to keep practicing.”
Her hint was so obvious, even he couldn’t miss it. But he didn’t know how far he wanted to take this. He wasn’t responsible for this girl.
“You should ask your parents for help.”
She looked down. “Yeah.”
“You did good.”
“Here.” She took a piece of paper from her pocket. “It’s a volunteer application for Community Hope. Where we went earlier. You should fill it out.”
He eyed the paper as if it were a calf with a bad case of newborn diarrhea.
She held it closer. “We need more volunteers. And it’s not like you have anything better to do.”
He scoffed. Nothing better to do? What did she think he did all day? Watch cooking shows, talk to Daisy, and wait around for the mail to show up?
The kid with the black hair came to mind. Morgan. That look on his face . . . it was clear he never expected to see Gerrit again. He had the look of someone all too accustomed to being disappointed.
Gerrit had seen that look before.
Rae waved the paper in his face. “At least think about it.”
He snatched it from her hand. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”
She smiled and gave her cat a hug. “Come on, Mister. Let’s go home.” She waved at him. “Bye, Gerrit.”
He managed a small nod. He’d almost be able to like the kid if she wasn’t so infuriating. She hopped out, strolled into the woods, and disappeared down the shortcut trail before he could ask himself what he was doing sitting in his Dodge with a rooster on his lap.
Daisy was waiting when he climbed out of the truck, carefully holding the box with one hand on each end. Bernard the Terrible had been quiet during the drive home, but one small bark from Daisy got him riled up again. The rooster clawed at the box like he was buried alive. Gerrit had not considered the repercussions of introducing Daisy to a rooster.
Bernard’s unnatural screech sent a chill down his spine as he shut the truck door with his foot. What should he do now? Why had he ever thought this was a good idea?
“Gerrit.”
He turned to see George huffing and puffing down his driveway, one arm raised as if hailing a cab. Ah yes. That was why.
George’s face was not exactly friendly. “I need to talk to you about something.”
The box gave a violent shudder and slipped from Gerrit’s hands. Bernard exploded from the torn-up cardboard the instant it hit the ground and immediately became entangled with Daisy. Daisy yelped in surprise. Gerrit kicked at the rooster.
It wasn’t how he pictured exacting his revenge on George for leaving that ultrasound picture of his granddaughter in his mailbox.
No.
It was a hundred times better.
Bernard took off down the drive like a jet on the runway, flapping his wings and heading straight for Mr. I’m-Going-to-Be-a-Grandpa. George’s eyes bugged out, and he took a step back, then tripped over himself as he turned to run like all the demons of hell were after him.
Gerrit hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Gerrit never even knew what an éclair was before this week, but the batch turned out quite nicely. He whistled as he applied the last of the chocolate frosting, glad he’d had the foresight to make both it and the filling earlier in the day. Chef Kellan hadn’t been kidding when he said this was a time-consuming recipe.
Dinner was reheated leftovers, but he hoped the éclairs would make up for it. He checked the time. Hannie had said she’d be home “around six.” It was 6:09.
He glanced out the window every thirty seconds. Had Hannie done the same thing back in the day? When they’d first met, he couldn’t imagine keeping a woman like her waiting. She was so perfect and beautiful. So out of his league. He’d
