Balancing Act (33 page)

“I’m thinking I need a lawyer, Wilson,” Gus said, getting up from the steps. He swiped at his eyes. “Real men don’t cry. Bullshit!” he said, swiping at his eyes a second time. Wilson howled his misery as he waited to see what Gus would do.

“Okay, my tail is between my legs, so the only game plan I can see at this point is to pack you up in that tin can, take you to my grandmother’s, and beg her to let us stay there until I can get my head on straight. If I’m lucky, maybe she’ll lend me that farm van of hers, so I can come back to get our stuff. Let’s go, boy!”

Wilson ran down the steps and over to the yellow Beetle. He scratched at the door, leaving long gashes in the glossy paint. “Chew the damn tires while you’re at it, Wilson!” Gus said as he opened the door. Wilson leaped in and tried to settle himself on the passenger seat, but his legs hung off the seat and actually touched the floor. He barked and howled in outrage.

“It’s just for five miles, so relax. We’ll be there before you know it.”

Wilson threw his head back and let loose with an unholy bark that made the fine hairs on the end of Gus’s neck stand on end.

Gus clenched his teeth. “Yeah, you’re right, Wilson. We’re going to be damn lucky if my grandmother doesn’t kick our asses to the curb, and I wouldn’t blame her one bit. I’ve been a real shit. She really pulled the wool over my eyes, Wilson. Meaning Elaine, of course, not my grandmother. I’m even worse than a shit!” Wilson whimpered.

Ten minutes later, they were at the turnoff to the Blossom Farm, which his grandmother had renamed after his grandfather, Brad Hollister, had died, and her sisters, Iris and Violet, had come to live with her. For the sake of simplicity, his grandmother had also taken back her maiden name, Blossom.

“Okay, get ready, Wilson, we’re coming to the driveway. Look, this is serious, so pay attention. If it looks like Granny is going to kick my ass off her property, you have to step in and whine. However she feels about me, she loves
you.
You know what to do, so just do it!”

Wilson whined to show he understood his master’s words as he tried to untangle himself. The moment the car stopped, he was pawing the door to get out.

Inside the old farmhouse, the three residents were gaping out the window. “Rose! It’s either that gold digger or Gus! What are they doing here at this time of night? Oh, my God, lock the doors! Is the door locked? Of course it’s locked, we always keep the door locked,” Violet, Rose’s sister squealed.

“We need to hide,” Iris, the third sister, said. “Rose, you can’t let him in even if he is your grandson! We can’t let him find out what we’re doing.”

Rose Blossom peered out into the darkness. It was indeed her grandson and his dog coming up to the front porch. In full panic mode, she crouched next to her two sisters under the front bay window. “He knows we’re in here. Something must be wrong,” she hissed.

“Who cares?” Violet hissed in return. “If you let him in, we go up in smoke. Is that what you want?”

“Good God, no! We could go out on the porch. I’ll just tell him . . . something will come to me,” Rose dithered.

“No, something will not come to you, Rose. I say we just hunker down and wait him out. Unless, in one of your stupid moments, you gave Gus a key. Did you, Rose?” Violet snarled.

“He’s always had a key, you know that. I don’t see him using it. We are, after all, estranged,” Rose reminded her sisters. “Anyway, the key won’t work because we have a dead bolt inside. All he can do is bang on the door. Let’s just stay put and see what he does.”

“Why is he driving
her
car?” Iris hissed.

“Maybe
she’s
dead,” Violet whispered.

“You wish. Highly unlikely, or we would have seen the obituary,” Rose said.

Violet clapped her hands over her ears when she heard the first bang on the front door. Her sisters did the same. Outside, Wilson howled and barked, the sound loud and shrill enough to set the sisters’ teeth on edge.

“My legs are cramping,” Iris grumbled.

“Mine, too,” Violet added.

“I know you’re in there, Granny, so open the door. Wilson needs a drink. I’m sorry! I really am. Please, open the door!”

Winifred, the sisters’ basset hound, took that moment to waddle up to the door. She barked, a charming ladylike sound that pretty much said, Welcome.

“Damn dog! Now for sure he knows we’re in here,” Violet hissed. “I really have to get up
now,
or I’m going to faint.”

“If you’re going to faint, do it quietly,” Rose shot back.

More banging and more apologies ensued. The sisters turned a deaf ear.

Winifred turned and started to waddle toward the kitchen. “Oh my God, he’s going to the back door. All he has to do is smash the glass, and he can open the door,” Iris said, momentarily forgetting all about the cramps in her leg.

“Gus wouldn’t do that,” Rose said. But her tone of voice indicated that she wasn’t sure if what she had said was true or not.

“He’s not going to give up,” Violet said. “That has to mean the reason he’s here at this hour is important, at least to him. Maybe you should just open the door and talk to him through the screen door. Tell him you were just getting ready for bed or something. You and he
are
estranged, Rose. I don’t think Gus is here just to make nice. Just open the door and tell him to make an appointment to see you. That way we can . . . you know, just let him see what we want him to see.”

“That sounds like a plan. For God’s sakes, do it, Rose,” Iris said.

“Do I have a choice?”

“No, not really,” her sisters said in unison.

Rose heaved a mighty sigh as she made her way through the dark house to the kitchen. She didn’t even bother to turn on the light when she opened the door. She tried to make her voice as cold and unfriendly as she could when she said, “Please stop banging on my door, Augustus Hollister. Why are you here? What do you want?”

“I need to talk to you, Granny. It’s important.”

“Well then, young man, I suggest you make an appointment,” Violet, the bossiest of the sisters, said coolly. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve retired for the evening.”

“It’s not
that
late. You guys are night owls. Look, I need to talk to you, it’s important. If it weren’t, I wouldn’t be here, especially in that yellow sardine can that masquerades as a car.” The desperation in Gus’s voice were getting to the sisters, but they held their ground.

“Tomorrow afternoon around five fifteen will work for us. I hesitate to remind you, but you do have a wife. Shouldn’t you be discussing
your
important business with
her
?” Rose asked, defiantly.

“That’s why I’m here. She kicked me out, stole my car, and is threatening to get a restraining order against me. I need to borrow your van to bring my luggage here. Elaine packed it up and left it on the deck. She changed the locks on all the doors and said she’d call the police if I went back. Elaine does not want to be married to me any longer. So I need to stay with you until I can find a place of my own.”

“You have a place of your own! I know because I bought it for you and put your name on the deed. So now we’re good enough for you! What’s wrong with this picture, Augustus? You cannot stay here with us; stay at your office if you have to.” Rose reached behind her for the keys to the van, which were hanging on a hook. She opened the screen door a crack and dropped the keys on the stoop. “Be sure to bring it back in one piece.” Her tone was troubled but not unkind.

“Will you at least let Wilson stay here with you?” Gus pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion.

The sisters looked at one another. Iris and Violet shrugged, which meant, okay, open the door, and let Wilson in. Rose opened the door, and Wilson bounded into the kitchen. Rose closed and locked the door, then turned to face her sisters.

“Girls, that was so cruel what I just did. Gus is my grandson.”

“Need I remind you that he is the grandson who turned on you after all you did for him and chose that gold digger over you,” Iris said.

“He’s young, and he was in love. We all make mistakes at some point in our lives. Gus just made his mistake earlier than most people,” Rose insisted as she tried to defend her grandson.

Give it up, Rosie,” Violet said, wrapping her distraught sister in her arms. “Let’s get Wilson settled and have some cheesecake. We need to talk this over and come up with a plan where Gus is concerned.”

“We can’t let him in the house, that’s the bottom line,” Iris said. “Not tonight, not tomorrow, not anytime soon. If we do, it’s all over.”

“We know all that, so will you please stop reminding us?” Violet grumbled.

A
BOUT THE
A
UTHOR

Fern Michaels is
the
USA Today
and
New York Times
best-selling author of the Sisterhood and Godmothers series,
Tuesday’s Child, Southern Comfort, Betrayal, Return to Sender,
and dozens of other novels and novellas. There are over seventy million copies of her books in print. Fern Michaels has built and funded several large day-care centers in her hometown, and is a passionate animal lover who has outfitted police dogs across the country with special bulletproof vests. She shares her home in South Carolina with her four dogs and a resident ghost named Mary Margaret.

 

Visit her website at fernmichaels.com.

R
ETURN TO
S
ENDER

In Return to Sender,#1New York Times
best-selling author Fern Michaels spins a compelling, unforgettable story about love, family, friendship, and the courage it takes to let go of the past . . .

 

At seventeen, Rosalind “Lin” Townsend finds herself pregnant and alone. Her father, deeply religious yet cruel, throws her out of the house. Nick Pemberton, her baby’s father and the man she naively hoped might marry her, rejects her. Yet even at the lowest point in her life, Lin vows to succeed on her own terms, and to give her son, Will, all the love and happiness she’s been denied.

 

Nineteen years later, Lin has made good on her promises. She’s the owner of a thriving diner in her Georgia hometown, and Will has grown into a fine, intelligent young man who’s about to start his freshman year at NYU. But when Lin visits New York with Will, she crosses paths with the one man she was sure she’d never see again Nick Pemberton, now a millionaire CEO, the man who sent back all her letters unopened, marked RETURN TO SENDER. Seeing him fills Lin with anger—and she resolves to right the wrong he did to Will.

 

Helped by Jason, a hired detective, and her best friend, Sally, Lin sets out to disrupt Nick’s life and his finances, with spectacular results. But the truth is more complex and surprising than she imagined. And soon Lin must choose—between the revenge she thought would free her, and the bright new future that’s about to be delivered to her door . . .