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Only In His Sweetest Dreams(28)



“Are you serious?”

“You needn’t pay me.”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say. I mean, of course I can pay you, only, I just wanted to ask your opinion on where he’s at. The school seems to think he’s lagging and given his situation, it’s no wonder. Tutoring is a lot to ask though. I doubt he’d welcome it.”

“Of course he won’t. Few children overwhelmed by the demands of school want to take on more work. However, one-on-one attention is usually the answer and he’ll be even less cooperative at twelve. Now is the time to address it. In fact...” She trailed off as she moved into her living room.

Mercedes followed to see Mrs. Garvey lift a thick envelope from her coffee table.

“After you brought the problem to my attention, I took the liberty of gathering a few resources from my old files.” She considered the envelope. “I intended to give this to you, but why don’t you bring him by one evening next week. We’ll go from there.”

Mercedes figured she ought to be feeling some misgivings, but was actually falling apart with relief. This was help, honest to God help from a qualified, grade school teacher. A retired one, sure, but one who knew the three R’s and who wanted to put time into Dayton rather than medication.

“Thank you, Mrs. Garvey. As soon as we’re both settled.” Mercedes wanted to hug the woman, but settled for smiling brightly.



Mercedes knew her defense of L.C. and subsequent backing of Edith Garvey into an apologetic corner had circulated the complex like a flu virus. If there really was a betting pool on her romance with L.C.—and she would bet any money there was—the squares were filling up faster than ever. She had no desire to fuel it by staging side shows in the courtyard with L.C., so when the pool needed attention Sunday, she asked Zack to accompany her for a diagnostic review.

“I know exactly what’s wrong,” she told him as she removed the lock she’d placed on the gate. “And I can call the pool man to fix it, but you and your dad can probably take care of it. You just have to lock off the power and fish out whatever is stuck in the suction system. It’s usually a bathing suit.”

“‘Scuse me?” Zack said, dark brows lifting into his hairline.

“Now you’re speculating whose, aren’t you? Those sorts of mental pictures are best not drawn, young man. I usually destroy the evidence and never speak of it again.”

“So it’s not yours?”

“Zack.” She tried to laugh it off, but blushed as thoughts of swimming with L.C. floated across her imagination. “Why would you say that?”

“I heard you and Dad talking on the patio last night, then he went for a walk and came back wet.” He shrugged.

“And I left the kids alone? Sorry to disappoint. He must have seduced one of the seniors into skinny dipping.”

“That’s not as far-fetched as you might think,” he drawled, crouching and leaning to look toward the slurping sound of the clogged suction system.

Mercedes toed off her sandal and dangled her foot in the water. “Bea Faedre has a crush on him.” She also had a halitosis problem and walked with two canes.

“It’s the Fogarty curse. My grandfather warned me about it, but I never expected it to be like this.”

Mercedes didn’t bother hiding her amusement. “Are you saying all the men in your family have this problem of women throwing themselves at them?”

“Guys went after Auntie Paige, too.” He stood and picked up the tail of his shirt, swiping it across his sweating face.

Mercedes swallowed her laughter. “It must be quite a burden for you all.”

“It isn’t for Pops. He loves it. He’s slowing down though, living with a woman in Palm Springs. But Dad says Pops had to leave town to find someone he hadn’t already slept with. Dad tried to show a little restraint at different times, while he was married and when he was with April, but—”

“Who’s April?”

“What? Oh, um...” He looked around as though he’d said more than he’d intended. “She was, uh, they weren’t really married, just living together. It was a few years ago.” He scratched his hair. “You should really ask Dad about her.” With a more serious look, he lowered his hand. “Really. If you and Dad are...anything, you should really ask him about her and...everything.”

Everything?

He didn’t say any more. Looked uncomfortable. Kind of sad, actually. He swallowed and stared into the distance.

Okay. She wasn’t about to pump his son for L.C.’s private business even though the kid had ramped up her curiosity to max levels.

“What about you?” she asked, trying to pretend she wasn’t dying to know about April. “You knocking the girls away? What about Holly? Is she throwing herself at you?”

“No.” His humor returned with a rueful grin. “Not exactly. We text and chat on line, but she doesn’t want her dad to know we’re seeing each other.”

“Are you seeing her?”

“I cycled by her place a few days ago. She was in the yard, washing the car. We talked.”

“And?”

“And nothing. Why do you want to know?”

“I thought that’s what we were doing, being nosy about each other’s love lives.” She swung her leg like a pendulum, spattering gleaming dots on the tiles and his bare feet. “I don’t have one, by the way, so you’ll bear the weight of this conversation.”

“Really? Because I get the feeling you and Dad...” He cocked his head.

“I can’t help myself.” She lifted helpless palms. “It’s the Fogarty charm. But you’re right. Why go for your dad when I could make a play for the younger model?” She lunged forward a step, as if she were going to jump him.

Startled, Zack took a step, missed the edge of the deck and fell sideways, arms windmilling.

Water splashed her legs as Mercedes leapt back, hooting in surprise then doubling over laughing.

“I didn’t do that,” she cried, as he came up for air. “You did that and you needed to cool off anyway, Mr. Thinks He’s Such a Hot Tamale.” She ducked against the fence as Zack swung his arm back.

He didn’t fling water at her, halting the threat as his gaze focused beyond her shoulder. “Someone to see you,” he said, nodding.

Mercedes turned her head, certain he was setting her up, but a man about her own height stood back from the fence, hesitating to approach. He had an expensive look to him that went beyond the pale mustard-colored suit coat he had hooked over his shoulder. His moustache was precision trimmed, his sunglasses the kind racecar drivers wore.

“Mercedes Kimball?” His chin lifted a fraction. She suspected he’d been checking out her legs.

“Yes?”

“I’m David Tichler. Dayton’s father.”





Chapter 15





Her hand shook as she locked up the swimming pool again, leaving the sign in place to explain it was closed for repair. She gave Zack her keys. “If you could have your dad look at it as soon as possible, and maybe, um, grab the kids from Sunday school for me?” She checked her watch.

“Sure.” Zack hesitated and asked under his breath, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” she said just as quietly. “Take them to my place.” She turned to David. “Why don’t I get us an iced tea and we can sit in the shade over there?” She pointed to a concrete table on the cantina patio. The seniors rarely used the hard benches, preferring their own softer lawn chairs beneath the palms.

“Thank you. I’d love something to drink,” David said.

Mercedes fetched the tall, frosted glasses and sat across from him.

“Everyone said it would be hot here, but I figured it was only spring...” He drank deeply. “But it’s hot.”

“It is,” she agreed, noting that Zack’s squelched prints were already gone. “I guess it’s still cool in...New England?”

“We’re in Vermont. I was transferred.”

“Ah.” She drew a line down the melting ice on her glass. “Porsha never really said what you did.”

“How is she?”

Mercedes drew in a deep breath, sitting straighter, smiling an apology for the truth. “I’m not sure. We haven’t heard from her recently. Were you hoping to see her?”

He scratched his hair. “I don’t know what I’m hoping. A social worker called, said she wanted me to arrange my payments to come to you, since you have custody of Dayton. I had business in California...”

She waited.

“It was my wife’s suggestion, actually, that I take this side trip and make sure he was okay. In a good place.”

“Your wife knows about him?” That was news.

“I told her a couple years ago, after our daughter was born. We had fertility problems at first so it—well, that’s what broke us up briefly. That’s how Porsha and I—” He cleared his throat. “I couldn’t tell Laura about him when we were reconciling. It would have killed her. But now, since this call, we’ve talked a lot about him.”

“You want him.” The shocking realization hit and the words came out dead, through numb lips. Her whole body went cold.