Secrets in the Sand by Carolyn Brown

            Did his son really hate him so much that he never wanted to see him again?

            The thought hit Quinn in the solar plexus with the force of a fist. If it had been a woman treating him that way, he’d have gotten the message and moved on. But this was his son. His heart. The kid was fifteen now, so Quinn had only three years of court-mandated visitation to compel Sean to keep coming around.

            Three years suddenly seemed like a very short time, given all the inattention and absence Quinn had to make up for. And yet, it had to be possible for him to retrace his steps and rebuild the bridge between him and his son.

            Quinn was a carpenter, after all. He knew how to build anything, even a rickety, falling-apart bridge. And he would rebuild this one, no matter what it took. The fight for Sean’s time and attention generated its own list of obstacles, but Quinn had ordered the first round of obstacle-climbing tools online:

                Cool guy furniture.

                Flat-screen TV.

                Premium cable and internet.

                Xbox game system.

                Paddleboards (secondhand).

            Quinn knew of only one way to close the distance between him and Sean that compounded daily—worse than credit-card debt—because of his ex-wife Melissa’s subtle sabotage.

            He must become the best weekend dad he could afford to be.

            ***

            “Got you another one,” Abby announced above the sound of the screen door slapping shut behind her. “Saw her run into the culvert when I took the trash up to the road.”

            Reva came into the kitchen, dressed in Birkenstocks and a tie-dyed hippie dress, her prematurely silver hair secured with an enormous jeweled barrette. “Oh my Lord.” She set her suitcase by the sliding glass doors and reached for the kitten. “Just this one? No stragglers?”

            “She’s the only one I saw, but I’ll keep a lookout in case there are others.”

            Reva held the kitten like a curled-up hedgehog between her palms. Her magic touch calmed the kitten, who immediately started purring. Reva closed her eyes, a slight frown line between her arched brows. “She’s the only one.” Reva opened her hazel-green eyes, her gaze soft-focused. “But kitten season has begun, and folks’ll start dropping off puppies next. Are you sure you can handle this place by yourself all summer?”

            No, not at all. Abby had only recently mastered the art of getting out of bed every morning. But Reva deserved this break, this chance to follow her dreams after years of helping everyone but herself. “Yes, of course I can handle it.” She glanced at the kitchen clock. “Don’t you need to leave soon?”

            “No hurry. My friend Heather will pick me up after she drops her kids off at school, so rush hour will be over by the time we get into the city. And the New Orleans airport is small enough that I can get there thirty minutes before departure and still have plenty of time. It’s all good.”

            Abby gave Reva a sideways look, but didn’t say anything. Abby knew her aunt was excited about her upcoming adventure but equally afraid of reaching for a long-postponed dream she wasn’t sure she’d be able to achieve. She might be stalling, just a little.

            “What can I do to help you and your suitcase get out the door?”

            “Would you get a big wire crate from storage and set it up for this baby?”

            “Sure.”

            Cradling the purring kitten, Reva followed Abby through the laundry room to the storage closet. “Litter box is in the bottom cabinet, cubby for her to hide in is on the top shelf.”

            Abby hefted the folded wire crate. “Where should I put it?”

            Reva closed her eyes again, doing her animal communication thing. “Not a big fan of dogs—or other cats either. Wants to be an only cat.” Reva smiled and stroked the kitten’s head. “You may have to adjust your expectations, little one, just like everyone else in the world.”

            Not exactly an answer, but Abby knew Reva would get around to it, and she did. “She’ll need a quiet place away from the crowd for the first few days. Let’s put the crate on top of the laundry room table.”