Page 19 of Take This Heart (Windy Harbor #1)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

COTTON BALLS AND BUSYBODIES

GOLDIE

“Goldie, please.“ He steps closer, lowering his voice. “Whatever horrible thing you’re imagining here, don’t. I am one hundred percent behind you and your family. Beyond being a relative of Bruce, I have no interest in carrying on any bad blood between our families. Believe me when I say that.”

“I don’t know what to believe. If there was no agenda here, you would’ve been upfront about Bruce. My dad is sitting over there wondering what the hell is going on. This is the last thing he needs right now. He trusted you.” I shake my head, stunned.

I can’t believe I’d started to trust him.

My hands tremble and I need to sit down. Fast.

He runs his hand through his hair. “I’ll talk to him.”

He turns and heads to my table and I follow him, not wanting to leave my dad to deal with him alone. By the time I get there, he’s already apologizing and saying the same things to my dad as he said to me.

My dad looks tired.

“The truth of it is, I didn’t tell you I was a Granger because it never mattered to me that you are a Whitman,” he tells my dad.

“I only recently heard about the feud for the first time. It was something my mom never spoke about. She didn’t agree with the way my uncle and grandpa handled things and didn’t instill that bitterness in me.

And when I realized Bruce was still intent on giving you trouble, I let him know I was standing with you.

It’s no excuse, but I had good intentions.

I didn’t want to bring more stress while you were going through chemo.

I think so highly of you, Everett…you and your whole family. ”

He takes a deep breath and looks miserable, but he’s obviously an excellent liar.

The difference between my dad and me is that my dad seems to believe him.

“If you say that’s the way it is, I believe you, son,” my dad says.

My mouth falls open. He’s really going to let him off that easily?

My dad’s head tilts as he smiles fondly at Milo. “I always thought your mom seemed different than the rest of her family. I can see why you turned out to be such a good egg. Your dad must have a good head on his shoulders too.” He nods as if that settles it.

“Dad, don’t you think it’s suspicious that all this drama started…and it turns out that Bruce is in town? He’s got the perfect mole right here.” I wave my hand toward Milo, who starts shaking his head.

“I assure you, I have kept everything we’ve discussed private. I signed a contract with you, Everett, and I take that very seriously. I plan to see this job through to the end and to do so with integrity,” Milo says.

“That’s good enough for me,” Dad says. He glances at me and smiles.

“Don’t worry, buttercup. I’ve been dealing with Bruce for a long time.

I’ve got my family beside me and I don’t intend on letting him ruin my night.

If I’ve learned anything from having cancer, it’s that life is short and grudges and hatred are not the way I want to live my life.

” He smiles at Milo. “I’d ask you to join us, but I’ll let you get back to Bruce and that young lady. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Milo nods. “Thank you, sir. Have a good night.” He raps on the table with his knuckles and turns to look at me once more before walking back to his table.

“That woman looks familiar,” Tully says, glancing at Ava.

“I thought so too.” Noah nods.

I’m about to tell them my thoughts on Ava Piper when Helen walks up to take our order.

And then I decide to put Milo and Bruce and Ava out of my mind for the rest of the night and enjoy the time with my dad and brothers.

As my dad has been saying so much lately, time is short.

We need to enjoy it with the people we love.

And whatever was beginning to crack open between Milo and me?

It just slammed shut again.

Hard.

I’m not dealing with Milo today.

Nope.

Every time the image of him laughing with Ava freaking Piper, Bruce’s art-critic daughter from hell, comes to mind, I get angry at him all over again.

My dad might trust him, but I don’t.

More than ever, I don’t.

I manage to avoid him all day, once turning around and walking the other way when I spot him across the property. By the end of the day, I’m exhausted. Noah has a few questions for me about the plans and I deal with those and then call Erin.

“Puppies,” I say when she answers. “I’m ready.”

“Meet at Carrie’s in ten?” she says, no questions asked.

“See you there.”

Carrie’s house smells like cinnamon and the Garden Phlox flowers that are blooming by her front door. She ushers us in, giddy. “The puppies just woke up from a nap. Come on back.”

The moment we step into the room, we’re rushed by a flurry of floof. Five marshmallows with wagging tails tumble over our feet.

“Oh my God,” I breathe. “I wasn’t prepared for their cuteness.”

Erin already has a silky black puppy in her arms. She holds it up and kisses its nose. “Look at this face. This is therapy right here.”

A smaller white one bounds over to me and belly-flops right on my foot. When it looks up at me, I melt even more. I swear it’s saying, Hi, I’ve chosen you.

“Okay,” I whisper. “I choose you too.”

I scoop up the puppy and it nuzzles my chin before nestling against my chest. I don’t stand a chance.

We never had a dog growing up because my parents always said we were too busy, and they were always doing different house projects where a puppy would be in the way.

I didn’t even know if I was a pet person.

But oh my goodness, this is love.

Carrie beams. “Looks like you’ve been won over. They’re ready to go today if you want them!”

Erin and I exchange a look and nod. We’re done for.

On the drive back, my new furry sidekick sits in a little nest of blankets on the passenger seat.

Every time I glance over, he’s looking up at me adoringly.

I pull into the driveway, feeling lighter than I did earlier.

Maybe it’s reckless to adopt a puppy in the middle of a family project during a stressful time, but I feel pretty good about it.

Dad’s in the living room looking like he might’ve just woken up from a snooze when I walk inside.

He’s covered with the blanket Grandma Donna made.

After they found out about Dad, they made a trip home to get their things the next day and were back that night.

They haven’t stopped fluttering over him since. I’m surprised they aren’t now.

“Where are the grandmas?”

“Making more food than any of us will ever eat.” He points at the bundle in my arms. “What’s that?” he asks.

I hold up the puppy and his head pops out of the blankets. “This is the new love of my life. Also known as a puppy.”

He squints. “Is it alive?”

“Well, actually I stopped at Build-A-Bear on the way home,” I tease.

I walk past him and set the little guy next to Dad on the couch. He scrambles out of the blankets and toddles over to Dad.

Dad looks at him and then at me, shaking his head. “Oh my, buttercup. You’ve always added more to your plate than any one person should. I mean, it’s not like we don’t have a million other things going on right now.”

“I know, but hear me out. I thought we could use some joy around here. Erin got his sister, and just look at him.” I pick him up and hold his face next to mine. “Look at this face.”

Dad tries not to smile. “He looks like a cotton ball.”

“Yeah, but cotton balls don’t cuddle.” I set the puppy back on the couch and he moves to Dad’s side and curls up.

Dad glances down and his face softens, like he’s not totally immune to this little guy either.

“Well, I guess we’re stuck with him,” he says.

“Yep.”

“Have you named him yet?”

“No,” I say, curling up in the chair across from him. “I thought we could name him together.”

Dad’s quiet for a beat. “What about…Crouton?”

I snort. “Crouton?”

“Yeah. Small…but a vital addition to any salad.”

I pretend to be concerned. “Are you feeling okay?”

He chuckles. “Yes. Admit it, it fits him.”

I look down at the puppy, who’s now flopped dramatically on his back. “Okay, I’ll consider it an option. Any other ideas?”

“Kevin.”

I stare. “Kevin,” I repeat. “That’s as bad as Dylan naming that cute little guy Bill!”

He shrugs. “Kevin.” Like it’s only natural that he’d think of Kevin.

“He looks like a Kevin, doesn’t he? He’s got that mischievous twinkle in his eyes like Kevin Bacon did in Footloose.

That guy could dance the daylights out of a warehouse and also sings a little bit and likes to hang out with his wife after umpteen years.

Seems like a solid name for a solid guy. ”

I cackle at this. “Okay,” I say, cracking up again. “Kevin, it is.”

The puppy lifts his head and lets out a tiny sigh like it’s confirmation.

Dad nods, satisfied. “Kevin Whitman, the first of the Whitman puppy line.”

“I like it.” I giggle.

I pick Kevin up and take him back to my chair, where he turns around and around until he finds the perfect spot on my lap before plopping down and falling asleep.

And just like that, Kevin is part of the family.

Grandma Donna walks in. “Oh fer cute!” she says, coming over to pet the puppy. “Whose dog is this?”

“Ours,” Dad says. “His name is Kevin.”

Her smile drops. “Oh fer cryin’ out loud, a dog is the last thing we need around here.”

“But look how happy it makes Dad,” I say, pointing at the dopey grin on my dad’s face.

She looks at Dad and softens. “Well, I s’pose it won’t hurt. Just don’t let him get underfoot—we don’t need any falls ‘round here.”

“Okay, Grandma.” I smile at her and then lift Kevin’s head. He keeps sleeping. “Just look at that face,” I say in a goofy voice.

The doorbell rings a few minutes later. Or at least it feels like it—I’ve been too caught up staring at this adorable little creature.

“Were you expecting someone?” I ask Dad.

He shakes his head.

I set Kevin on the chair and get up to look through the peephole. “Oh, it’s Val and Sandy. Should I answer it?”