Take a Chance on Me(25)

“Tig—”

There he was, the little scamp, and not alone either. He had his arms around the neck of Nan Holloway.

Of course it had to be Tiger’s grandmother who found him. She held on to the boy as if she might never let go.

If she had her way, she wouldn’t.

“Hello, Nan.”

She glanced at him, her smile vanishing. “Someone could have picked him up and kidnapped him.”

“Maybe you could say that louder. I’m not sure Tiger—or the rest of the store—heard you.”

“He needs to know the dangers of running off. And frankly, so do you.”

“I just stepped away to grab a watermelon.” Oh, that sounded brilliant. He wanted to shake away the words the moment he said them.

“That’s how accidents happen, isn’t it, Darek? When someone takes their eye off the ball—”

“I didn’t . . .” He blew out a breath. It didn’t matter. Nan and George Holloway had despised him since the day they found out Felicity expected his child. The shotgun wedding that occurred weeks later probably didn’t help.

He schooled his tone. “Thanks for finding him.”

He reached for Tiger, but Nan ducked her head as if drawing in his little-boy smell. Then she swallowed and affected a smile. “I don’t suppose you’d let us take him for the Fourth of July this weekend. Sandra is coming in with her family, and it would be so fun for him to play with his cousins.”

The last time he’d brought Tiger over to the Holloways’, his son had returned with an entirely new wardrobe, his old clothes probably burned in the refuse pile. Darek tried not to mind, but it made him feel like a guy who lived in his car, panhandling for food for his kid.

And shoot, his pride got the best of him. “Sorry, Nan, but we’re having a family get-together too.” This time he didn’t wait for her to release him but took Tiger into his arms, set him on his hip. “How about the following weekend?”

She tightened her lips as if she was trying not to cry. Oh no. Felicity had the exact same expression. Usually right before she flung something nasty at Darek—objects, words, sometimes even his mistakes.

And true to Holloway form: “Felicity always told me how selfish you were. I just never thought you’d keep Tiger from us.”

Now people were staring. Probably agreeing with her.

After all, the Holloways weren’t exactly unknown in the town of Deep Haven. Not with George on the school board since the dawn of time and Nan working in the courthouse, issuing building permits and tax liens.

Felicity had been their golden girl—homecoming queen, basketball star, the girl most likely to succeed.

Not get pregnant and marry at the age of twenty.

Nan’s eyes sparkled, what looked like tears glistening in them.

“Nan . . . fine. I’ll bring him by. How about Sunday, in the afternoon?”

“No. Forget it, Darek. It’s time we stepped in and started asking questions. Like how did Tiger get hurt? You never did tell us. At the least I should have gotten a phone call. Just because we were out of town . . .”

He didn’t know who to thank for that small gift. No wonder he hadn’t seen Nan hovering at the library for the past two weeks—they’d been on their annual trek to some church camp down in the Ozarks.

Sadly, he hadn’t seen Ivy, either. Not that he would know what to say to her if he did.

“He fell off the top bunk. But he climbed up there on his own—”

“He was unsupervised?”

“Nan, he’s a kid. He’s rambunctious.”

She tightened her jaw. Then suddenly nodded. “Sunday should work just fine.”

She pushed her cart past him, down the aisle.

“Bye-bye, Grandma!”

Nan flashed a smile over her shoulder. Came back and kissed his pudgy cheek. “See you soon, Theo.”

Tiger, Darek wanted to say. We call him Tiger. But that wouldn’t help.

He looked at Tiger. “Don’t ever run away from me again.”

Tiger’s smile fell and his little lip started to tremble. Maybe he should have just let Nan take him home.

Probably he wasn’t well supervised, as she said. He softened his voice. “You scared me, pal. Stick with me, okay?” He held up his hand and Tiger slapped it. “Good.” He let him down. “Let’s get some cereal and finish our list.”

“I want Cap’n Crunch!” Tiger reached for the box, conveniently at five-year-old level, and hugged it to his chest.

“No, buddy. Let’s try for something healthier, huh? How about Cheerios. Or Honey Nut—”

“I want Cap’n Crunch!” His voice rose.

Darek reached for the box, tried to ease it from his hand. “No. Give it to Daddy.”