Ladies' Night, Andrews, Kay [best time to read books .txt] 📗

he thought of as “hand-off days,” because Callie was rarely even remotely on time, which always made Bo anxious and agitated, afraid his mother would change her mind and refuse to allow him to see his father.

Wyatt tapped his fingers impatiently, the back of his wedding ring sounding a ching-ching-ching against the hard plastic of the steering wheel. He’d been sitting there for ten, then fifteen minutes. He was reluctant to tap his horn or even go to the front door, because the last person he wanted to see that day was his soon-to-be ex-wife.

He found his mind wandering back to the previous evening, and then this morning. He’d awakened early, as always, shortly after six. It was still dark outside, and Grace was sleeping on her side, faced away from him, moonlight silvering her slumbering form. The quilt had slipped from her bare shoulder. Carefully, he pulled it lower until her back was exposed. He marveled at the elegant curve of her spine, the way her soft brown hair spilled onto the pillow, the way her full hips flowed from her narrow waist. She had a tiny mole on her left shoulder; he could just barely see it. He’d pressed his lips to her shoulder, not really meaning to awaken her, but she’d turned, and seeing his face inches from hers, smiled lazily. He’d thought her beautiful the night before, but finding her like this, tousled and sleep-drunk, he decided she was the most exquisite woman he’d ever known.

The passenger-side door opened abruptly and Bo hopped onto the seat and slammed the door hard. He folded his arms across his chest and grunted. “Let’s go.”

His son’s face was set in anger, his eyes red-rimmed.

“Hey, dude,” Wyatt said cheerily. “Something wrong?”

“Mom’s really upset,” Bo said. “Some guy came over this morning and took her new car, and she’s been on the phone hollering and yelling at you know who. Can we just go now?”

What now? Wyatt wondered. Callie’s car was a flashy red Mustang convertible. Bo told him Luke had given it to her for her birthday a few months earlier, complete with a vanity tag that read HOTMAMA.

“Is your mom’s car not working?”

“No. I mean, yeah, it works good. We were asleep, and then I heard something outside and it was still dark, so I snuck out to the living room window to see if was like a burglar or something, and I saw this guy breaking into Mom’s car! I went in and woke her up and told her, and she went and got this like gun out of the dresser. Then she went running outside, but the guy was already inside her car. She was screaming at him to stop, but he just rolled the window down and threw a piece of paper at her, and then he peeled off down the street, going really fast.”

Uh-oh. Sounds like the repo man had paid a visit this morning. Mr. Bigshot must have missed a car payment. Or two.

Wyatt would have found it comical, except that witnessing the unpleasant scene had clearly upset the child.

“Well, I’m sure your mom will get it figured out,” Wyatt said for lack of anything better to say.

“She’s really, really mad at him,” Bo said. He gave his father a hopeful look. “Maybe she’ll change her mind and they won’t get married, and we won’t have to move to stinkin’ Alabama.”

Wyatt was about to pull away from the curb when out of the corner of his eye he saw Luke’s front door open. Callie stood in the doorway, dressed only in an oversized T-shirt that barely touched her thighs. Her hair was mussed and rivers of black mascara streamed down her cheeks.

“Wyatt!” she screamed. And then she came running toward the truck in her bare feet.

*   *   *

Bo’s eyes were the size of saucers. “Stay here,” Wyatt said. He jumped out of the truck and met Callie at the sidewalk. “They repossessed my Mustang,” she cried. “It’s gone! Luke swears he doesn’t know what happened, but I know he’s lying. He lied about everything.”

Callie threw herself into his arms. He closed them uneasily about her shoulder, turning to see that Bo was still in the truck, his eyes riveted to the unfolding scene.

“Shh,” Wyatt said, patting her shoulder. “It’s probably just a misunderstanding. Maybe the car payments got posted wrong or something.”

“No,” she sobbed. “Luke’s broke. He’s been lying all along. Oh my God, Wyatt. It was all just a big lie. What am I going to do?”

“Hey,” he said softly. “We’ll figure it out. Look, this is upsetting Bo. Why don’t you go inside and get dressed. Let me take him over to the park and get him settled with Dad; then I’ll give you a call and we can talk about it. Okay?”

“A call?” Her voice was wobbly. Snot trails dribbled down her face. “Can’t you come back here and talk? I could make us some coffee…”

“Not here,” Wyatt said, his spine stiffening. There was no way he was setting foot inside Luke Grigsby’s house again. Not ever.

“Oh,” she said. “I get it. Okay. I could come over to the park…”

“God no,” he replied. “You’re not exactly Dad’s favorite person these days, Callie.”

“That was all Luke’s idea,” she said quickly. “I never meant anything by it…”

Wyatt sighed. “I’ll meet you at Starbucks in an hour. Okay? But I can’t stay long.”

“All right,” she said. “Oh my God. This is all such a nightmare.”

For once, Wyatt thought bleakly, he’d have to agree with her.

54

Callie had managed a remarkable transformation in the hour since he’d last seen her. Her hair was now clean and shiny and pulled back in a ponytail, she had fresh makeup, and she was dressed in a low-cut pink top and tight white jeans. And, Wyatt noticed, as she clutched the mug of coffee he’d just brought to the table, she wasn’t wearing Luke’s flashy diamond engagement ring.

“Thanks for coming,” she said, her voice low. “I’m sorry I got all