Free Deadline (Sandra Brown) by Sandra Brown

by the large sack he’d carried in. With unabashed greed, Hunter asked, “Did you bring us something?”
    “Mind your manners, young man,” Amelia scolded.
    Bernie laughed. “It’s okay. I did, in fact, bring them something. But they have to finish breakfast before they can have it.”
    Amelia gave him a look of thanks as the boys returned to the table and attacked their cereal bowls.
    “Coffee?”
    “Thank you, but stay where you are. I’ll get it.”
    He had one bad hip, and the other had already been replaced. As he went to the cabinet for a mug, Amelia noticed that his tottering gait was more pronounced than usual. After pouring his coffee, he joined her and the children at the table.
    “My feelings were hurt,” she told him.
    He blew on his coffee. “Why’s that?”
    “I thought you might have left for home while I was in Savannah.” He lived in Upper Michigan.
    “Without saying good-bye? Never.”
    “Your house was dark last night.”
    “I was packing up and cleaning all day yesterday. Tuckered me out. I went to bed early.”
    “The rental company has people who thoroughly clean the house after you’re gone. You didn’t have to do it yourself.”
    “I know, but I’m fussy. Hate the thought of people seeing my dirt.”
    “You should have asked Stef and me for help.”
    “It looked to me like you were having a grand time on the beach. I wouldn’t have interrupted your play.”
    “Grant, blot your mouth, please.” She rolled her eyes when he used the sleeve of his T-shirt rather than his napkin. Bernie chuckled. She asked him when he planned to leave.
    “In a day or so. Have to get back and settle in for the long winter.”
    “You could stay longer. Better yet, you could move here permanently.”
    “Home’s up there,” he said with a touch of sadness. “You know how it is.”
    He and his wife of decades, of whom he often spoke, had lived in the same house from the day they’d married. She had died years ago, but he continued to mourn her and refused to move away from the town where she was buried and where one day he would be interred beside her.
    “Well, I’m glad you didn’t go before we could say a proper good-bye.” She reached across the table and patted his hand.
    “Hey, Bernie,” Stef chirped as she passed through the kitchen carrying a bundle of laundry bound for the utility room. “You look smokin’ this morning! I like that shirt.”
    It was flamingo pink and matched a stripe in his equally loud Bermuda shorts.
    “Thanks. It’s new.”
    Amelia hid her smile in her coffee cup. Stef’s flirting never failed to fluster the senior. After dumping her bundle in the laundry room, she reentered the kitchen and pointed to the large sack he’d left on the countertop. “What’s that?”
    “A going-away present for the boys.”
    “Can we have it now?” Hunter pushed his empty cereal bowl across the table for Amelia’s inspection. “We ate our breakfast.”
    “Yeah, Mom, please,” Grant chimed in.
    “I suppose so.”
    Bernie seemed as eager as they to open the sack and reveal the surprise. With touching pride, he reached into the sack and produced a box. On it was a picture of a kite in the shape of a pirate ship. It was an elaborate thing, with multiple sails.
    “Oh my gosh!” Amelia exclaimed. “Will it actually fly?”
    “Can we do it now, Bernie?”
    He looked at Amelia. “Can they?”
    She laughed. “Of course. But get your sandals on,” she called after the boys as they charged through the back door.
    “I’ll see that they do,” Stef said, following them out.
    Bernie paused and looked back at Amelia. “Maybe I should have checked with you first. But I saw it in a store on Tybee, and immediately thought of them. I hope you don’t mind.”
    “It was sweet of you. Thank you. Oh, and thanks for repairing their beach ball.”
    He looked at her quizzically.
    “You didn’t patch it for them?”
    “Nope. Must’ve been Stef.”
    Amelia smiled woodenly.