Not Quite Forever (Not Quite #4)(67)
Author: Catherine Bybee

Walt leaned forward, patted his father’s hand. “You’re a control freak.”

“Lotta good that’s doing me.”

“You and Dakota have a lot in common.”

His father glanced up. “How is your girl?”

“Fine. Driving Mom home.”

“Alone?”

Walt nodded. “Yeah, why?”

“You’re braver than I am. Your mother isn’t happy with her.”

“Hence the reason why we stayed away this week.”

Walt noticed the monitor beeping as his father’s pulse increased. It was time to change the subject. “Brenda and Larry just left to get some rest. Do you want them to bring anything back with them?”

“No. But when your mother returns tell her to bring my pajamas. I’m not letting any of these people see my ass.”

His pissy disposition was proof positive he was on his way to recovery.

Chapter Twenty-Four

JoAnne’s silence from her side of the car forced insecurity up Dakota’s spine.

The drive up to the Eddy property was slow, slippery, and quiet. After only two comments about a California girl driving in the snow, JoAnne rested her head on the window and drifted off.

Good thing, too. Dakota wasn’t as secure behind the wheel as she’d like to believe. It didn’t take long to feel like she had some control over the car and the road. Still she inched up the hill and didn’t pay a lot of attention to the locals who buzzed around her like she was a sixteen-year-old who’d never driven before.

She breached the Eddy gate, pulled in front of their home, and turned off the engine. Only then did JoAnne stir.

“We’re here,” Dakota offered.

JoAnne blinked a few times and then pushed from the car without a word.

Inside the house, JoAnne moved into the kitchen and poured a glass of water.

Dakota followed, not certain what to do with herself. “Would you like me to make you something to eat?” Dakota asked, steeling herself for whatever words were coming her way.

The last time JoAnne and she had spoken, they were less than friendly.

“I need to sleep.” With that, JoAnne Eddy turned on her heel and left Dakota standing in the middle of the kitchen . . . alone.

Dakota watched Walt’s mother retreat and blew out a slow breath.

At least she didn’t have to add another ugly confrontation on top of everything else. She placed the small bag housing an overnight’s stay of belongings on the sofa in the den, and took in the scene beyond the windows.

The lake she’d tossed Walt in only a few months before was iced over . . . snow filled in the edges and made the scene something out of a movie.

On any other day, this picture might inspire something moving.

Today it felt frozen.

Perhaps if Walt were beside her she could appreciate it. Only he was held up in a hospital looking over his father’s care.

She placed her purse in her lap and retrieved her phone. A quick text to Walt told him they’d arrived in one piece.

The moment she kicked her shoes off and her feet up, Junior decided to dance. “You’re something,” she said to her unborn child. “Nothing for hours and now you wanna play.”

Instead of searching out a bedroom and risking disturbing JoAnne, Dakota helped herself to a glass of milk and a piece of bread before finding a blanket and pillow on a couch. Even with Junior kicking up a storm, she fell asleep in minutes and didn’t wake for hours.

Her head ached, her back wasn’t right, but she woke feeling marginally better than when she’d fallen in a comatose heap on the couch. The sun was still high, which told her she’d not slept as long as she might have needed.

She found her cell phone and checked her messages like some might check the morning paper.

Walt let her know he received her text hours before, and then sent a message later to text when she woke.

Another text came from Mary, asking how everyone was.

Then there was her agent, Desi, asking if they could meet before their noon appointment with the publisher.

Overwhelmed, Dakota called Walt first.

“Hey,” she said when he answered the phone.

“You haven’t slept long enough.” Sure enough, she’d looked at the time on her phone before she’d placed the call and she’d only been down a few hours.

“I could never work graveyard and sleep during the day. How are you? You sound tired.”

“Remind me to never do this again.”

She forced a laugh. “Like you have a choice. How’s your dad?”

“Cantankerous, argumentative, and downright mean. So he’s better than I thought he’d be.”

Funny how a man being an ass could bring joy to her heart. “Good to hear. How are you? Did you manage any sleep?”

“I’ll sleep tonight.”

Translation . . . no. He hadn’t slept. “Walt.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

He sighed. “How’s my mom?”

“Sleeping.”

“Was she awful to you?”

Dakota watched the wind blow snow off the treetops. “She was too tired for that. She’s been in her room the whole time.”

“That’s probably a good thing.”

Walt went on to tell her about his father’s upcoming surgery and how the nurses were earning their Christmas bonuses putting up with him. Walt asked if she could order dinner and lunch for the staff in an effort to ease their suffering.

Dakota moved into the kitchen and wrote a note to herself to order something for the staff. “I’ll take care of it,” she told him.

“Have I told you how much I appreciate you being here?”

“You have, and you don’t need to. I’ll let you know when we leave to visit.”

“OK. Drive safe.”

“I will.”

Dakota hung up the phone and moved about the kitchen. After foraging through the kitchen, she found the coffee and brewed a pot. From there she managed to heat up some soup, found a mug to bring some to Walt when they left.

For company, Dakota turned on the television, found the evening news.

The forecast told her the night would freeze and sometime during the next twenty-four hours a low would pass through. On the heels of that, another would sock in.

“Great,” she mumbled. “Like we need bad weather to make things harder.”

The thought, however, made Dakota consider what was in the Eddy pantry. She moved into it, noted the canned food, the water supplies. The central heater kept the house warm, but did they have firewood?