Page 66 of No Kind of Hero
“Hi, honey,” Michelle Schaefer said to her daughter. Her face was still as unlined as Beth’s, her hair the same mix of colors that Beth’s had been before her latest walk on the wild side, and the resemblance disconcerted Evan, to say the least. “But oh, my goodness, your beautifulhair.What have you done?”
Beth put her arm through Evan’s and said, “I don’t know. What do you think, Evan? What have I done?”
She smelled like her usual vanilla and roses, and he pressed his arm a little closer to his body to keep her hand there and said, “Experimented, that’s what. Gone a little wild on your vacation, maybe.” He may have had a thought that went something like,That answer your question, Michelle? Yeah, your little girl might be having some adventures. Exactly like before.
Maybe he should feel bad about that thought. He didn’t. Beth loved his tough side, he was enjoying the hell out of making her love it, and it was nobody else’s business. Besides, that was more or less why she’d brought him along. To provide contrast, let’s say.
“Nice to see you, Evan,” her father Don said, his tone more genuine than his wife’s. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“Nine years.” Evan shook the hand offered to him. “Thanks for having me.”
“You know Candy and Rob Farnsworth,” Michelle went on, and Evan shook again. “And you must know Melody, too. She was in your class, wasn’t she?”
“Cheerleader,” Evan said, still without smiling. “Hi.”
“That’s right,” Don said with the kind of heartiness that told you smoothing over awkward situations was his specialty. “Melody would’ve cheered some of those turnovers you caused. Brett Hunter,” he said, indicating the sixth person on the deck. “Looking into developing some lakefront. My daughter Beth, and Evan O’Donnell, who was quite the star linebacker back in the day. Now he’s turned into a boring businessman like the rest of us. Age happens, I guess. What was your high-school dream, Brett?”
“Now, that’s embarrassing to contemplate,” Hunter said. He was a tall, lean guy with black hair cut short and that kind of silvering at the temples that people called “distinguished.” “I was going to be a lawyer like my old man. Then governor, as I recall. The stuff in between was hazy. People were just going to recognize my awesomeness. Cocky little twerp.”
Evan smiled. He actually didn’t hate this guy.
“What kind of business are you in?” Hunter asked him. “Word of warning, though. I’ll probably pick your brain.”
“I’m not sure Evan will be as much help to you,” Candy Farnsworth said. “He’s a painter. The house kind.”
Evan felt Beth stiffen up beside him. He’d swear she was poised to leap at Candy like a ninja, and the thought almost made him smile. “That’s right,” he said, absolutely deadpan. “Painting contractor. M&O Painting. Which makes meeting a developer not the worst thing that could happen to me.”
Melody Farnsworth said, “I’m sure that’s true,” in the kind of tone that spelledCatfight brewing,and Evan wondered why she was bothering. Beth didn’t want this guy.Thatwas why she’d brought Evan, the part she hadn’t said. Her mother had clearly wanted to fix her up. Did Melody think Beth would dump Evan right there at the table and make a play for the millionaire?
Probably. People expected other people to do whattheywould do in the same situation, and Melody Farnsworth had been ruthless as long as she’d been pretty. In other words, all her life. He’d bet she’d taken other babies’ toys in the sandbox. He didn’tknow,of course. She hadn’t gone to his daycare.
Michelle said, “Don will get you a drink, Evan. But oh, my. Thisbaby.”
Evan looked down at his daughter. For some reason, Michelle was making goo-goo eyes at Gracie, and Gracie was doing her I’m-an-angel smile back. Gracie sometimes had no taste.
“How old is she?” Michelle asked. “And what’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Eight months, just about,” Evan said. “Grace. Gracie.”
“Oh, and her precious butterfly outfit,” Michelle said. “And thoseeyes.”
“I was thinking of having her be a butterfly for Halloween,” Evan found himself saying, like a guy who’d never learned better. “Or a fairy, maybe. I saw some wings online. And a tutu. Pretty cute.”
“Oh, my,” Michelle said. “That would be darling.”
“I’d better get in here quick,” Don said, “before Michelle gets you too sidetracked, Evan. What can I get you to drink? Got some pretty nice white wine over here, and I can open a red.”
Evan could have waited for Melody to say it, but he didn’t. “I’m more of a beer man, if you’ve got it.”
“If I’ve got it?” Don laughed. “I’d better. They’d kick me out of Idaho pretty fast otherwise. Come on in and take a look. Michelle doesn’t think much of this idea, but I’ve got a beer fridge in the den. Anybody else?” he asked.
“Now we’re talking,” Hunter said, draining the last of his glass of wine and setting it on the table. “This is what I signed up for.”
Evan asked Beth, “Take Gracie for me?” and handed her over. And then he followed Don into the house. Having a beer with Don Schaefer. Wasn’t life interesting.
It got even more interesting at dinner, which was filet mignon grilled with mesquite chips. Good, but no better than Russell’s barbecue. The view was better, though, especially since Beth was sitting opposite him. Beth and Wild Horse Lake, and his baby girl in her seat beside him.
Of course, Candy Farnsworth was also beside him, and Melody was across the table too, so life wasn’t exactly a hundred percent perfect. The conversation right now, in fact, was about all the people they knew, about who’d been at the cocktail party for the Friends of the Lake and who’d been missing.
