Дэвид Балдаччи - One Summer

“Cool,” chimed in Jackie.

She smiled. “You want a bit of love, Jackie, huh?”

He jumped up and down. “Bitalove. Bitalove.” He grabbed his dad’s leg. “Bitalove. Bitalove.”

Cory said, “That was, like, such a cheap trick, Mikki.”

“Jenna does the best Sunday brunch in town, actually,” advised Charles. “I was just heading there myself.”

“Okay,” Jack said in a resigned tone.

Jenna smiled when she saw them come in. The place was crowded, but she said, “I’ve got a nice window table. Catch some of the breeze from outside. Follow me.”

She seated them at the table, handed out menus, and took their drink orders.

“Is Liam around today?” asked Mikki.

“In the kitchen, grilling. He’s turned into quite the short-order cook.”

“We’d arranged that I could come by tonight to do a few sets.”

Jack looked at her. “You did?”

She stared back at him and said sharply, “Yeah, I did. Sitting home all day watching Cory and Jackie isn’t exactly how I planned to spend my summer.”

“You don’t need to watch me,” said Cory.

“Yeah,” said Jackie. “Not me.”

Jenna looked at Jack and, sensing his distress, said, “Well, your dad is working really hard on the soundproofing, but it’s not done yet. And while you guys sound great together, I do like a little peace and quiet in the evening. But I tell you what: Come by around eight. Liam will be home by then, and that’s when I take my walk on the beach. I’ll be gone about an hour or so. Does that work?”

“That’s cool, Jenna, thanks.”

Jenna looked at Jack. “And is that cool with Dad?”

“Yeah,” Jack said slowly.

“So where’s your Delta buddy?” she asked.

“Out riding his Harley,” answered Cory.

“Ah. Well he better watch himself. I know a few single ladies of a certain age in this town who will snap him up.”

“Snap!” cried out Jackie.

After Jenna left, Jack leaned over and whispered to his daughter, “This is strictly music between you and Liam, right?”

“Dad, please.”

“Just asking.” He turned to Charles. “Bonnie came by to see me.”

“She told me she was.”

“Did she tell you what about?”

“Yes. I saw her afterward too. She told me what you two talked about. She told me what you said. And I told her I agreed with you. I don’t think that’s what she wanted to hear, but so be it.”

Mikki, who’d been listening, said, “What didn’t she want to hear?”

“Another time, Mik; not now,” said her father, shooting a glance at the boys. Then he added, “Did you have a good visit with her, Mik?”

“She was more laid-back than in Arizona,” Mikki replied. “There she was like a control freak. Drove me nuts.”

Jack turned to Charles. “I checked out the lighthouse the other night.”

“Did you? And how is it looking?”

“Not great, actually.”

“It really was something in its day.”

“I bet it was,” said Jack. “I bet it was.”

After lunch they were walking back to the van when Charles pointed across the street and said, “Speak of the devil.”

Jack saw where he was pointing. Bonnie and Fred were just entering a gift shop. Mikki walked up beside him and said in a low voice, “Okay, Dad, what is going on with Grandma? Why is she really here?”

“She just came by to make an offer.” Mikki waited expectantly. “For us all to go and live with her in Arizona.”

“No way. You’re not thinking of doing that, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

Mikki was about to say something else when she saw Blake Saunders coming down the street with two beefy young men. They were all wearing mesh football jerseys with CHANNING HIGH printed on the front.

“Hi,” said Mikki. Jack looked at her questioningly. “Blake and I met on the beach when I was going for a run,” she explained. “And we’ve run a few more times together since then.”

“Thanks for telling me.” He eyed Blake. “You look familiar.”

Blake looked embarrassed. “I was in the car that almost ran you off the road that day.”

“The girl’s name is Tiffany,” said Mikki. “And she’s superrich. What a shock.”

Blake said, “I told her to slow down, but she doesn’t listen to anyone.”

“Yeah, I bet,” said Mikki.

Blake turned to her. “Hey, we’re having a little party on the beach next Saturday. I was wondering if you’d like to come out and hang with us. There’s food, a bonfire, and we play some tunes.”

“And no alcohol, of course,” interjected Jack.

“No, sir,” said Blake right away, though his friends gave goofy grins.

“ Right. She’ll have to get back to you on that, sport,” said Jack, while Mikki scowled at her father.

“Nine o’clock. About the midpoint of our run, near where the big yellow house is,” he added.

“Right.”

“Okay, hope to see you there.”

The young men walked off.

“What was that all about?” demanded Jack.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” a grinning Cory wanted to know. “I thought you liked this Liam guy.”

Mikki’s face reddened. “Will you two just knock it off?”

“That guy doesn’t even have an earring, and his hair is perfectly normal,” said Jack. “He’s not your type. He’s a football player, for God’s sake. You hate football players.”

“Who told you that?”

“Your mom. She made a big joke out of it because she married a football player.”

“I think I can decide for myself what my type is,” Mikki said hotly.

“Well, I’m still your dad and I don’t like the idea of—”

“Hey, Miracle Man!”

Jack jerked around to see where the voice had come from.

“Over here, Miracle.”

Jack turned to see two large men sitting in the cab of a pickup truck staring at him. One man stuck his head out of the truck. “I need me a miracle. You want’a come over here and sprinkle some water on my head?” He waved a five-dollar bill. “I ain’t expecting miracles for free. I’ll pay good money for it.” Both men burst out laughing. They got out of the truck and leaned against it, their big arms folded over their thick chests. They were dressed in jeans and dirty T-shirts, with greasy ball caps on their heads. Their bare arms were covered in tattoos.

Cory said fearfully, “Dad?”

“It’s okay, son. We’ll just keep on walking.”

They passed by the men.

One of them said, “Hey, Miracle, you too good to stop for us poor folk?”

Mikki whirled around and said, “Grow up, you creeps!”

“Mikki,” Jack snapped. “Just keep walking.”

“Yeah, Mikki,” mimicked one of the men. “Just keep walking, sugah.”

Jack stiffened at this remark. He almost turned around, but his kids were with him, and he knew nothing good would come out of a confrontation. Jack said to the kids, “We’ll go on down to the beach when we get back, and—”

“Hey, Miracle, was it true your slutty wife was cheating on you with your best bud?”

Jack moved so quickly, Cory’s hand was still up in the air where it had been clutching his dad’s. When Jack rushed at them, the first man threw a punch. Jack ducked it, grabbed the man’s hand, ripped it back and then over his shoulder, swung him around, and slammed him headfirst into the truck. When the bloodied man turned back around and charged at Jack, he sidestepped the attack and leveled the guy with a crushing blow to the jaw. The second man slammed into Jack’s back, propelling him forward and face-first into a lamppost. In the next instant he’d spun out of the man’s grasp, laid a fist into his diaphragm, doubling him over, and then kicked his legs out from under him. Jack’s elbow strike to the back of the man’s neck sent him down to the pavement, where he stayed, groaning loudly.