The Parent Trap(13)

“I never get tired of this. Every time I look out here, it’s a little different from the last time, depending on the tide, the angle of the sun, the marine traffic coming and going.”

“The real estate agent said we’d even see whales from time to time. I wasn’t sure if that was true or just a sales pitch but I put a pair of binoculars in the kitchen, just in case.”

“It’s true,” she said. “It’s quite common to see one of the resident pods of killer whales, but usually outside the breakwater. They seldom venture into the bay. Casey loves them. I’ll bet Kate will, too.”

“I hope so.” He finished his coffee, straightened. “She and I should be getting home.”

“Of course. I’ll let the girls know.” She took his mug and set it along with hers on the tray and carried it inside.

He followed without saying anything. She couldn’t tell if he had picked up on her disappointment with his negative comments about his daughter or if something else was bothering him. In her opinion, those had been terrible things for a parent to say about a child, especially the crowbar remark. Even if he didn’t say anything that harsh to his daughter’s face, a sensitive kid would pick up on his attitude.

His problem is not your problem. He seemed like a nice guy and he was definitely nice to look at, but she had no time for anyone who was not fully engaged as a parent. She’d been there once and that had been one time too many.



AS BEDROOMS WENT, Casey’s was a total train wreck, Kate Marshall thought. There were books everywhere. The walls were covered with World Wildlife Fund posters of a rhinoceros, a baby monkey and a bamboo-eating panda. Built-in shelves running the width of the room, beneath the window, were lined with cages and aquariums.

Casey opened the door of a tall wire cage that was filled with ramps and a wheel, reached inside and produced a small brown mouse.

“This is Jane,” she said, extending her hand. “Would you like to hold her?”

Did she want to hold a rodent? In her hand? Not even a little bit. “Oh, gee, ah, no. But thanks.”

The girl grinned at her as she reached into the cage and brought out Jane’s identical twin. “This is Dian. Lots of people are afraid of mice, but they’re actually sweet and very gentle. I named these two after famous scientists.”

“Oh.” Kate searched her memory for famous scientists. Other than Albert Einstein, she drew a blank.

“Jane Goodall studies chimpanzees and Dian Fossey wrote Gorillas in the Mist. Have you read it?”

A book about gorillas? Seriously? “No, I haven’t.”

Casey placed a rodent on each shoulder, giggling softly as one of them nuzzled her neck. Kate shuddered.

“You’re welcome to borrow my copy.”

“Oh, gee—”

“Let me guess. That’s another no.”

“Science books aren’t really my thing,” Kate said.

“That book’s not really a... Never mind.” Casey scooped nuts and seeds out of a glass canister and into a little dish inside the mouse cage. “I’m going to be a veterinarian some day because I want to work with animals, so I read a lot of...science books.”

Her emphasis on science...was that a put-down?

“Most kids who haven’t even started high school haven’t figured out what they want to do when they graduate.”

“Yeah, most people think it’s weird, but I’ve always known. My mom says I figured it out in kindergarten when the local vet visited my class. Dr. Jacobson still runs the animal clinic in town and she does a lot of work for Serenity Bay’s animal shelter. She even has three rescue dogs of her own. She helped me get on as a volunteer at the animal shelter this summer.”

Casey tossed a carrot and a piece of broccoli into the cage, and then she took one mouse off her shoulder, holding it in her palm, stroking its head and along its back with the tip of one finger before setting it gently in the cage.

“Nighty-night, Jane. You, too, Dian,” she said, repeating the process with the other rodent. “I’ve always wanted a dog, or a cat, or both, but my mom’s allergic to cats and she says we’re too busy to take care of a dog.”

Anyone who could be this crazy about a mouse definitely should have a real pet. Kate had never had a dog, but there’d been many nights when she’d crawled into bed, snuggled up with Princess and cried herself to sleep because her mom wasn’t coming home. She hardly cried about that anymore, but it still made her sad. If her dad knew, he’d freak out for sure, and she did not need that. She was glad Princess was a good listener and an even better secret-keeper. For a while she’d cried about having to move, but that hadn’t made any difference, either. And she wasn’t so much sad as she was totally furious with her dad for making her come to live in this stupid little town in the middle of freaking nowhere. Especially if Casey was any indication of what the other kids were like.