inherited from her mother: She was too quick to have her feelings hurt.
And why was it that she and Gina Palmer had to be here the same weekend? Two women who were way too interested in a man who, should they succeed in netting him, they would have to support. Well, he’d leave that juggling act to Ray. They were all adults. Let those three figure it out.
The second message was from his oldest grandchild, eleven-year-old Beth: “Gramps, I got an e-mail today from some lady who’s hunting you. Mom told me to tell you to stop by the house in the morning so we can show you the e-mail. The lady wants your phone number but Mom said I can’t give it to her until you say it’s okay.”
Hunting me? Osborne didn’t like the sound of that.
Twenty minutes later, Mike asleep beside his bed, the window above his pillow wide open, Osborne lay listening to the strains of country music drifting over the water. Likely Shania Twain, he thought. He had set his clock to wake up an hour earlier than usual—so much to be done in the morning.
He was happy thinking ahead: A full day is always a good day.
fifteen
Every man has a fish in his life that haunts him.
—Negley Farson
Erin’s house was quiet. Standing on the front porch of the old Victorian, Osborne peered through the screen door into the living room. He hesitated knocking in case the kids were still asleep. His son-in-law, he knew, would be long gone. Mark prided himself on being at his desk in the Loon Lake District Attorney’s Office by seven at the latest.
Erin might be up. Even though she was working her way toward a law degree, this summer she had elected to take just one course. That plus three lively children, a new puppy, and volunteering at the library made for a day that had to start early.
Osborne rapped lightly on the door frame then slowly pulled open the screen door, only to have a four-month-old black Lab come bounding at him through the living room—followed by a loud, “No, Bruno, no!”
Erin appeared in the doorway that led to the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. “Careful, Dad! Don’t let him out,” she said. “C’mon in—got a full pot here for you.”
Osborne walked through the long, high-ceilinged living room. The windows had been pushed up as high as they would go, and morning breezes nudged at the ivory lace curtains. The house felt full of fresh air and sun—just like Erin. She was busy buttering toast, and at her elbow was a bowl of eggs ready for scrambling.
As he entered the kitchen, she set the toast aside, handed him a steaming mug of hot coffee, and motioned toward the kitchen table. He loved seeing her early in the morning—her long blond hair pulled back in a single braid, her face scrubbed and free of makeup. This particular day she was in running shorts and a tank top that emphasized her slim figure.
“You run already?” said Osborne, pulling out a chair.
“Four miles before Mark left for the office. Too hot later—supposed to hit ninety today.” She sat down with her own mug of coffee, took a deep sip and said, “Ah-h-h, a moment of peace before the monsters awake.”
Erin slapped the table with her free hand, startling Osborne, who spilled a few drops of his coffee. “Dad, I was so upset to hear about Peg Garmin. I woke up during the night thinking about it. What I want to know is if she found her son before she died? I mean—this is so sad. So unfair.”
“What are you talking about?” said Osborne, reaching for a paper napkin to wipe up the spill. “What son? I didn’t know she and Frank had any children.”
“Not from her marriage. She had a child out of wedlock and decided to try to find him a couple months ago. She came to the library looking for books on how to find people who were adopted. I told her she would have better luck using the Internet.
“Since she wasn’t familiar with computers, I helped her get started. It wasn’t too difficult—she had the name of the hospital, the date of birth, and
And why was it that she and Gina Palmer had to be here the same weekend? Two women who were way too interested in a man who, should they succeed in netting him, they would have to support. Well, he’d leave that juggling act to Ray. They were all adults. Let those three figure it out.
The second message was from his oldest grandchild, eleven-year-old Beth: “Gramps, I got an e-mail today from some lady who’s hunting you. Mom told me to tell you to stop by the house in the morning so we can show you the e-mail. The lady wants your phone number but Mom said I can’t give it to her until you say it’s okay.”
Hunting me? Osborne didn’t like the sound of that.
Twenty minutes later, Mike asleep beside his bed, the window above his pillow wide open, Osborne lay listening to the strains of country music drifting over the water. Likely Shania Twain, he thought. He had set his clock to wake up an hour earlier than usual—so much to be done in the morning.
He was happy thinking ahead: A full day is always a good day.
fifteen
Every man has a fish in his life that haunts him.
—Negley Farson
Erin’s house was quiet. Standing on the front porch of the old Victorian, Osborne peered through the screen door into the living room. He hesitated knocking in case the kids were still asleep. His son-in-law, he knew, would be long gone. Mark prided himself on being at his desk in the Loon Lake District Attorney’s Office by seven at the latest.
Erin might be up. Even though she was working her way toward a law degree, this summer she had elected to take just one course. That plus three lively children, a new puppy, and volunteering at the library made for a day that had to start early.
Osborne rapped lightly on the door frame then slowly pulled open the screen door, only to have a four-month-old black Lab come bounding at him through the living room—followed by a loud, “No, Bruno, no!”
Erin appeared in the doorway that led to the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. “Careful, Dad! Don’t let him out,” she said. “C’mon in—got a full pot here for you.”
Osborne walked through the long, high-ceilinged living room. The windows had been pushed up as high as they would go, and morning breezes nudged at the ivory lace curtains. The house felt full of fresh air and sun—just like Erin. She was busy buttering toast, and at her elbow was a bowl of eggs ready for scrambling.
As he entered the kitchen, she set the toast aside, handed him a steaming mug of hot coffee, and motioned toward the kitchen table. He loved seeing her early in the morning—her long blond hair pulled back in a single braid, her face scrubbed and free of makeup. This particular day she was in running shorts and a tank top that emphasized her slim figure.
“You run already?” said Osborne, pulling out a chair.
“Four miles before Mark left for the office. Too hot later—supposed to hit ninety today.” She sat down with her own mug of coffee, took a deep sip and said, “Ah-h-h, a moment of peace before the monsters awake.”
Erin slapped the table with her free hand, startling Osborne, who spilled a few drops of his coffee. “Dad, I was so upset to hear about Peg Garmin. I woke up during the night thinking about it. What I want to know is if she found her son before she died? I mean—this is so sad. So unfair.”
“What are you talking about?” said Osborne, reaching for a paper napkin to wipe up the spill. “What son? I didn’t know she and Frank had any children.”
“Not from her marriage. She had a child out of wedlock and decided to try to find him a couple months ago. She came to the library looking for books on how to find people who were adopted. I told her she would have better luck using the Internet.
“Since she wasn’t familiar with computers, I helped her get started. It wasn’t too difficult—she had the name of the hospital, the date of birth, and
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