never
happened. Meanwhile, the favorite parts of his job were school visits and
fire-safety inspections. Prevention was everything.
He’d gotten to do both on his latest twenty-four-hour shift,
and he’d been in a good mood when he left the station. He’d still been in a good
mood when he’d done his shopping, and when he’d picked up his son at
kindergarten. But then he’d had to deliver Timmy to Ashley and that had
completely eroded it.
Of course, Timmy had been excited. A weekend with Mommy was
like a weekend at Pinocchio’s Pleasure Island where anything went. No rules, no
structure. Just fun, fun, fun. Well, as long as he didn’t get into Ashley’s
makeup. He’d done some decorating with it the last time he stayed (discovering
that lipstick was perfect for drawing on a bathroom wall) and she’d yelled at
him so much he’d come home traumatized.
Now Garrett was feeling traumatized as he drove down Icicle
Road. How he hated dealing with Ashley.
“I’m going to have to bring him back tomorrow morning,” she’d
said.
“Tomorrow?” Wait a minute. He’d had plans for the next day. He
and Tilda were going to play some racquetball and go out for breakfast. And much
as he didn’t like Ashley’s parenting style, she was still the kid’s mother and
ought to be able to take him for two days.
“I’ve got plans,” she’d said.
“Yeah? Well, so do I.”
“Then have your mother watch him.” Ashley always had an easy
solution that involved someone else doing her work for her.
Meanwhile, there stood Timmy, listening to every word. Garrett
wasn’t sure how much a five-year-old understood, but he hadn’t wanted to take
the chance that the kid would feel like a hot potato nobody wanted to keep.
“Okay.” He’d tousled Timmy’s hair. “We’ll go get hamburgers at
Herman’s. How’s that sound, dude?”
Timmy had been fine with that and responded with much jumping
around and chanting “Hamburgers, hamburgers!”
Garrett had given his son a friendly guy punch on the arm. “How
about you go play and let me talk to your mom for a minute.”
Timmy had run cheerfully into the living room, where he’d
promptly turned on the TV. God only knew what she let him watch.
Garrett had regarded his irresponsible ex-wife in disgust.
“What?” she’d said defensively.
“Plans? Seriously?”
“Hey, I have a life.”
“You also have a son and you only have to take him every other
weekend.”
“I always take him. When have I not taken him?” she’d
demanded.
He’d waved her phony indignation away and moved toward the
door.
“Don’t you go making me feel guilty,” she’d snarled. “It wasn’t
my idea to have kids, remember?”
Thank God she’d at least lowered her voice. He didn’t bother to
respond.
If there’d really been a Santa, Garrett would have offered the
old guy beer for life if he’d just haul Ashley away. But the new year had
arrived and, sadly, she was still here. Garrett shook his head. He was so done
with flakes.
“Did you hear that?” he said to the vision of the cute,
freckled strawberry blonde who’d been occupying his mind so much lately. But he
didn’t care how attracted he was to Jen Heath. He wasn’t going to pursue any
relationship with her beyond that of landlord and tenant.
Watching her in action the day she’d moved into his place had
given him a clear idea of what her personality was. All that talk of home-canned
food the first day he’d met her had been nothing but a smokescreen. Here was a
good-time girl who’d quit her job at the drop of a hat, who’d abandon the work
of moving in to play in the snow. Some people would call that being a free
spirit. He called it irresponsible. And if she didn’t burn his place down it
would be a miracle.
He’d seen the car up ahead coming toward him. But now he
realized the car was really coming toward him,
skidding into his lane. What crazy idiot— He turned his truck to the left and
skated by the vehicle
happened. Meanwhile, the favorite parts of his job were school visits and
fire-safety inspections. Prevention was everything.
He’d gotten to do both on his latest twenty-four-hour shift,
and he’d been in a good mood when he left the station. He’d still been in a good
mood when he’d done his shopping, and when he’d picked up his son at
kindergarten. But then he’d had to deliver Timmy to Ashley and that had
completely eroded it.
Of course, Timmy had been excited. A weekend with Mommy was
like a weekend at Pinocchio’s Pleasure Island where anything went. No rules, no
structure. Just fun, fun, fun. Well, as long as he didn’t get into Ashley’s
makeup. He’d done some decorating with it the last time he stayed (discovering
that lipstick was perfect for drawing on a bathroom wall) and she’d yelled at
him so much he’d come home traumatized.
Now Garrett was feeling traumatized as he drove down Icicle
Road. How he hated dealing with Ashley.
“I’m going to have to bring him back tomorrow morning,” she’d
said.
“Tomorrow?” Wait a minute. He’d had plans for the next day. He
and Tilda were going to play some racquetball and go out for breakfast. And much
as he didn’t like Ashley’s parenting style, she was still the kid’s mother and
ought to be able to take him for two days.
“I’ve got plans,” she’d said.
“Yeah? Well, so do I.”
“Then have your mother watch him.” Ashley always had an easy
solution that involved someone else doing her work for her.
Meanwhile, there stood Timmy, listening to every word. Garrett
wasn’t sure how much a five-year-old understood, but he hadn’t wanted to take
the chance that the kid would feel like a hot potato nobody wanted to keep.
“Okay.” He’d tousled Timmy’s hair. “We’ll go get hamburgers at
Herman’s. How’s that sound, dude?”
Timmy had been fine with that and responded with much jumping
around and chanting “Hamburgers, hamburgers!”
Garrett had given his son a friendly guy punch on the arm. “How
about you go play and let me talk to your mom for a minute.”
Timmy had run cheerfully into the living room, where he’d
promptly turned on the TV. God only knew what she let him watch.
Garrett had regarded his irresponsible ex-wife in disgust.
“What?” she’d said defensively.
“Plans? Seriously?”
“Hey, I have a life.”
“You also have a son and you only have to take him every other
weekend.”
“I always take him. When have I not taken him?” she’d
demanded.
He’d waved her phony indignation away and moved toward the
door.
“Don’t you go making me feel guilty,” she’d snarled. “It wasn’t
my idea to have kids, remember?”
Thank God she’d at least lowered her voice. He didn’t bother to
respond.
If there’d really been a Santa, Garrett would have offered the
old guy beer for life if he’d just haul Ashley away. But the new year had
arrived and, sadly, she was still here. Garrett shook his head. He was so done
with flakes.
“Did you hear that?” he said to the vision of the cute,
freckled strawberry blonde who’d been occupying his mind so much lately. But he
didn’t care how attracted he was to Jen Heath. He wasn’t going to pursue any
relationship with her beyond that of landlord and tenant.
Watching her in action the day she’d moved into his place had
given him a clear idea of what her personality was. All that talk of home-canned
food the first day he’d met her had been nothing but a smokescreen. Here was a
good-time girl who’d quit her job at the drop of a hat, who’d abandon the work
of moving in to play in the snow. Some people would call that being a free
spirit. He called it irresponsible. And if she didn’t burn his place down it
would be a miracle.
He’d seen the car up ahead coming toward him. But now he
realized the car was really coming toward him,
skidding into his lane. What crazy idiot— He turned his truck to the left and
skated by the vehicle
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