Secrets in Summer(79)

Darcy returned to the living room, curled up on the sofa with her mystery, and opened the book. Her thoughts wouldn’t settle. Did she care for Willow because she didn’t have her own child? Did she care for Mimi because she had no grandmothers left? Okay, but why, then, did she care for Susan? True, Darcy didn’t have a sister, but Susan wasn’t sister material—she was a friend. A friend with a tempestuous life and, although she wasn’t aware of it, an unfaithful husband. Possibly unfaithful. For all Darcy knew, Autumn and Otto were spending their time together discussing the stock market.

She couldn’t explain it. Mimi, Willow, and Susan were simply delightful people, and Darcy enjoyed their company. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she’d fallen so hard for Nash, and wanted a commitment with him now and he was so unhurried. It had nothing to do with that at all.

Her cell burbled. Darcy snatched it up.

Beth O’Malley said, “Darcy, a bunch of us from the women’s chorus want to go for a walk at the beach and then spend a loooong evening at the Nautilus drinking te-quil-a mockingbirds and eating tapas and roasted Peking duck. Want to go with us?”

Darcy grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Good. Dress sexy. Bring gossip.”

Darcy laughed. “I’ll do my best.”





16


Thursday evening, Darcy was ironing a dress for the next day while she idly watched the evening news. When the phone rang, she answered it with her eyes on the television.

“Darcy, could you help me?” Willow pleaded in such a rush her words were jammed together. Before Darcy could speak, Willow continued, “Henry cut his finger with a knife, it’s my fault, we were making watermelon slices, he’s okay, he’s not even crying now, but I can’t find any Band-Aids in the house and he can’t just stand holding a paper towel around it!”

“I’m not sure I have any Band-Aids, either,” Darcy said, “but I can run out and buy some.”

“No, that’s okay, we have some in our house, I know right where they are, I just need you to come watch the boys while I run over to our house. I’d take them with me, but I promised they could watch the Lego Movie while they eat their watermelon. They’re in front of the television now, but Henry has to stand in the kitchen because I don’t want him dripping blood on the owner’s furniture!”

And they’re not dripping watermelon juice? Darcy thought, but she said, “Good thinking. I’ll be right over.” She wanted to check on Henry’s cut, be sure he didn’t need stitches.

She turned off her iron. She didn’t bother to comb her hair or put on fresh lip balm, not for those three little rascals. It took her only a minute to go out her door and cross to the Brueckners’ house, where she found Willow waiting.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Willow cried, throwing her arms around Darcy. “I really need to get a Band-Aid, it’s only a little cut, but I can’t let Susan come home to find her son bleeding on the rug!”

Darcy smiled. “I’m sure it will all be fine.”

“I’ll just run over to our house, I won’t be a minute, I’ll be right back.”

Darcy found Henry standing in the kitchen with his right arm up in the air.

“Hi, Henry,” Darcy said, keeping her tone mild. “Willow says you cut yourself.”

“She told me to hold my hand over my head so the blood wouldn’t fall out as fast.”

“Willow’s awfully smart,” Darcy assured him. “Could I see your cut?”

Proudly, Henry extended his hand.

Darcy gently unwrapped the paper towel and looked. The gash was across the top of his third finger, deep enough to pool blood up over the wound, where it then dripped down onto the kitchen floor. She didn’t think a Band-Aid would be sufficient. When Willow returned, Darcy would drive them all to the hospital’s ER to see if Henry needed stitches.

“I’m going to wrap your finger in an ice-cold paper towel,” Darcy told the boy. “It won’t hurt, it will just be cold, and it will make the bleeding slow down.”

“Then can I go sit and watch the Lego Movie?”

“Let me wrap it, and I’ll come with you and keep my hand on your finger. I want to press on it a little bit.”

Henry seemed more upset about missing the video than by his bleeding finger.

Darcy walked into the living room with the child, holding his finger tightly. Henry plunked down on the sofa next to his brothers and Darcy sat on the arm of the sofa, amused that neither George nor Alfred seemed concerned about their brother. Boys, she thought.