Random Acts Read online

  Jenny flung the covers back and swung her legs over the edge. She batted away Danielle’s offer of assistance. “I don’t need your help…or your lecture. Save it.”

  “What were you thinking?” Danielle pressed her fingers to her temple, hating the shrill sound of her voice. Keep it together. Stay in control.

  Jenny stretched her bare toes until they reached the floor. She put weight on one foot and winced. Glaring at Danielle, she refused her help a second time. “Excuse me. I have to go to the bathroom.”

  Sucking in her breath, Danielle reached out again and touched Jenny’s knee. Her little sister froze at the edge of the bed and pressed her lips into a thin line. “Don’t you see? I was doing everything in my power not to be like Mom. I just couldn’t do it all. I needed help.”

  “By taking drugs?’ Danielle asked, disbelief crowding her thoughts.

  “I needed a little something to keep me going.” Jenny bowed her head. “It was stupid. I know.”

  “Who attacked you, Jenny?”

  Rubbing her temples, Jenny shook her head. “I don’t remember.” Her sister pushed off the bed, seeming to take each step gingerly. Danielle fisted her hands and turned away. She crossed the room and pushed the power button on the blaring TV. A few minutes later, Jenny emerged from the bathroom and crossed the room to look out the window.

  “Patrick is going to find out who did this to you. He can protect you.” She lowered her voice. “We are not going to stop until whoever did this is arrested.”

  “I just want to move past it. Let it go. Move on,” Jenny said, her voice cracking.

  “No. We can’t let them get away with it.” Anger bubbled in Danielle’s belly.

  “Hey, they’re letting me go home today,” Jenny said, changing the subject. She turned around slowly and shook her head. “I don’t want to fight. I was dumb. I made a huge mistake…” She lifted her palms.

  “I don’t want to fight either.” Danielle sensed a tentative truce. “So…they’re letting you go home?”

  “Finally.” A tired smile tipped the corners of Jenny’s mouth. “Jimmy’s bringing me some clothes.”

  “You should have called me.” Of course she had called Jimmy. A nagging guilt hounded her. Why would she expect her sister to rely on her when she hadn’t been around?

  “Jimmy was here when the doctor told me I could go home,” Jenny said, a hint of annoyance tinged her tone.

  Danielle lowered her voice. “Does Jimmy know?”

  Jenny’s eyes flared wide. “About the drugs?” she whispered. “No.” She glanced toward the door. “No,” she said more emphatically, a pleading—a fearful—look in her eyes. “And he can’t know. He’s trying to get into the police academy and if…” She set her jaw. “Don’t you dare tell him.”

  Danielle let out a long breath. “Are you telling me his father is the chief of police, and you don’t think he knows?”

  Jenny shook her head. “Chief Parker promised me he wouldn’t tell him.” Her shoulders sagged. “Don’t you understand the mess I’ve made? I couldn’t risk jail time. Who would take care of Gram?” Jenny’s words tumbled out one on top of the other. “And if I jeopardize Jimmy’s chances of getting into the police academy…”

  Danielle’s cheeks warmed. Her little sister had been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and she had been too busy with her own life to know it.

  “I got…” Jenny shook her head in resignation, “…I got caught up in everything. Between school and my job, I couldn’t keep up. A friend gave me this drug that gave me more energy. He told me it was a real prescription.” She lowered her gaze. “I guess I was naive. I didn’t realize it was illegal to have drugs that a doctor hadn’t prescribed specifically for you.”

  “Which friend?”

  Jenny looked at her sister, then away. “I don’t want to get him in trouble. He feels bad enough. And he has his own problems to deal with.”

  “Tell me. Please.”

  Her sister’s ears grew red. “Henry.”

  Tugging at the collar of her confining turtleneck, Danielle pinched her lips together, fearful she’d explode and say something to put a permanent wedge between her and her sister. She knew Henry was up to no good.

  “Please, Danielle. This is my mess. Henry’s struggling to get through school too. He’s got a lot going on at home. You understand, right? We had the same mom. Well—” she lowered her eyes, then lifted them to meet Danielle’s gaze, “—his mom works 24-7 and his dad is a drunk. They’d kill him if they found out.”

  “Why does it have to become your problem?”

  “He’s a good kid caught up in a bad situation. I want to help him so he doesn’t get trapped.”

  Jenny’s words cut to Danielle’s core. “Do you feel trapped?” Her heart beat wildly while she waited for the answer.

  Her little sister looked up but didn’t say anything. She pressed her hand to her mouth and shook her head. “I made a huge mistake.” Her words came out muffled. “I have no one to blame but myself.”

  Jenny walked over to the bathroom. As she pushed the door open, she said, “I’m going to brush my hair. I think it’s time you went home to Atlanta.”

  Danielle stood staring at the closed bathroom door, a million thoughts going through her head.

  Footsteps drew her attention toward the door. Jimmy strolled in wearing loose jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. “Hey, is she ready?” He tossed a small backpack on the bed.

  Before Danielle had a chance to answer, the bathroom door flew open. Jenny shot her sister a subtle warning glance.

  Jenny’s shaky fingers fluttered across her bruised cheek. “We have to wait for Dr. Moss to sign the discharge papers.” Jenny suddenly seemed jittery. Didn’t she trust Danielle to keep quiet about the drugs? Or did she fear Jimmy had overheard their conversation?

  “I thought you said you were ready?” Jimmy’s forced laugh grated on Danielle’s nerves. “I brought you clothes.”

  The light seemed to dim from Jenny’s eyes. “I am.” She opened the backpack and pulled out a T-shirt and jeans. “But we have to wait for the doctor.”

  Flopping down into the chair, Jimmy sneered. “Whatever…”

  “It shouldn’t be long.” Something about the way her sister kowtowed to Jimmy set Danielle’s teeth on edge. As the child of a woman who had centered her life around men, how had her sister fallen into the same trap?

  Jimmy pouted in the chair, tapping his foot on the dated tile, his foot kicking one of the remote’s batteries. He leaned over and scooped it up. “What’s this?”

  “Nothing. I dropped the remote,” Jenny said. Her boyfriend gave her a skeptical look.

  Danielle tipped her head toward the door. “Jimmy, you can go. I’ll wait here with Jenny and bring her home.”

  A hopeful look blossomed on Jenny’s face, or had Danielle imagined it?

  “I’ll bring her home,” Jimmy said, as if it were the end of the discussion.

  Apparently sensing an argument, Jenny moved toward Jimmy and sat on his knee. “I’d like Jimmy to bring me home.” Smoothing his hair off his face, she planted a kiss on his exposed forehead. Their mother had placated an irate boyfriend the exact same way. Nausea clawed at Danielle’s stomach.

  Some things you can never escape.

  “Okay,” Danielle murmured, “I’ll see you at home.”

  On Saturday morning, Patrick watched Ava like the proud father he was. His ten-year-old spread out an orange tablecloth, then lined up brown doilies—thanks to Gram—in a creative pattern for her fall festival display. Every time he offered to help, she shooed him away. What would he know about decorating a crafts booth?

  He greeted the crafters as he paced the blacktop in front of their tables displaying everything from doll clothes to Christmas wreaths. The sun was shining and the temperature was moderate, a perfect day for the church’s fall festival. So why did this uneasiness dog him? He glanced toward the parking lot. No sign of Danielle.


  Patrick hadn’t spoken to her since she’d slammed the door in his face the other night. She had ignored his calls. He dragged a hand through his hair and let out a long breath. He’d known using Jenny as a drug informant was a bad idea, but he’d had no idea the negative domino effect it would have on his life and everyone’s around him.

  His stomach clenched. Would Danielle be a no-show? He glanced at his watch. He had to get to work.

  “What do you think, Dad?” Ava asked, snapping him back to the moment. Her enthusiasm lit her beautiful face as she stood back and admired the display of knit scarves, hats and slippers.

  “You and Gram were busy.”

  Ava giggled. “It was fun. And we’re going to make money for the Mayport Food Pantry.”

  Patrick smoothed a hand across Ava’s soft curls. His little girl was growing up before his very eyes. “Did you tell Miss Danielle what time to be here?”

  “I told Gram.” Shrugging, Ava tugged at a doily under the stack of hats. “She’ll be here.”

  Patrick’s heart tightened. His daughter still had blind faith in people. What would happen if Danielle let her down today? And what would happen when his daughter’s attractive new friend left Mayport for good? Ava would be heartbroken.

  He was a fool for remotely thinking something could develop between them. The more time he spent with Danielle, the more time he wanted to spend with her. Being with Danielle reminded him of a simpler time when they were both kids. Before life’s responsibilities weighed in on them. Maybe that was what drew him to her. Inwardly, he laughed. He didn’t have to worry about that anymore. Danielle had made her feelings crystal clear when she’d slammed the door in his face.

  “Wow! Look how beautiful.”

  Patrick turned on his heel at the sound of Danielle’s voice, his insides tightening with an attraction he summarily dismissed. She strode toward them, her hair cascading down her shoulders, a smile on her pink lips. She passed by him with barely a glance, but he found he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Ava’s face broke into a wide smile, and she rushed to meet her new friend and wrapped her arms around her waist.

  “Did you make all these things?” Danielle reached over and picked up a blue scarf that matched her eyes. “And look—” Danielle opened the brown bag she was carrying, “—I thought you could sell these cookies too. Everyone likes chocolate chip cookies.” There was a hint of doubt in her voice.

  “Thank you, Miss Danielle. Bunny also made shortbread.” She took the bag and pulled out the individually wrapped cookies. Patrick’s heart warmed. Danielle had gone through a lot of trouble for his daughter.

  He picked up a cookie and peeled back the cellophane wrapper. “You made these?”

  “Of course,” Danielle said, fixing a smug look on her face, “with a little help from the tube of cookie dough from the freezer section.” Her blue eyes sparked with amusement. A longing welled up from somewhere deep inside. Perhaps his daughter wasn’t the only one getting too attached.

  Patrick shook the thought away and took a bite. “Not bad.”

  “You did a great job decorating this booth.” Danielle stepped back and seemed to take it all in. “Sorry I was a little late. I wanted to make sure Jenny and Gram were set for the day.”

  “I’m so excited Jenny is home. Maybe I can stop by and visit her later?” Ava’s face glowed with excitement.

  “She wanted to run over when Jenny came home from the hospital, but I told her we needed to give her a few days to rest,” Patrick said. The wait had been equally hard on him.

  “I’m sure Jenny would love to see you.” Danielle flicked a glance in Patrick’s direction. A small smile tipped the corners of her pink lips. “As long as it’s okay with your dad, maybe you can stop over tonight.”

  He nodded and returned her smile. Hope filled his chest. Maybe she was going to forgive him after all.

  Danielle turned her attention back to the booth. “Did you set everything up yourself?”

  Ava nodded and smiled. “Dad helped me carry stuff over, but I put everything where I wanted it.”

  “Very nice.”

  Patrick stood off to the side, watching the exchange between his daughter and Danielle, suddenly feeling like an outsider. He glanced down at his watch. “Well, if you two ladies have this covered, I’m going to work.” He resisted his overprotective desire to give Danielle some last minute instructions on what his daughter could and couldn’t do. But if he expected Danielle to trust him, he’d have to learn to trust her. He also had to trust his daughter. Let go a little. How else would his daughter ever learn independence?

  “You’ll be back in time to go on the hayride?” Ava gestured at him to get her point across.

  “Absolutely.” He bent down and kissed the crown of his daughter’s head, inhaling the scent of baby shampoo Bunny insisted on buying. Still. It never failed to bring him back to the early days of Ava’s life. Every evening when he’d been blessed to be at home with his family and not deployed in some foreign country, he had taken Ava wet from her mother’s arms after her bath and had wrapped her in a fluffy towel. Once he had her in clean pajamas, he’d rock and rock her, drinking in her sweet smell, never knowing if his next deployment would be his last.

  Would he ever have that sense of contentedness again?

  “We’re all set here,” Danielle said, drawing him out of his reverie. “Don’t let us keep you.”

  Patrick knew when he was being dismissed. When Ava went back to setting up the crafts and baked goods, marking each with a price, Patrick lowered his voice. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “No, I don’t. And if things get slow, I brought a little work.” She patted the bag on her shoulder.

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  Danielle shot him a twisted smile. She dropped the bag onto the chair behind the booth. She leaned over and scanned the prices. “Oh, I bet you could charge another five cents for a piece of Bunny’s shortbread.”

  “You think?” Ava pulled the cap off the marker with a tug.

  “Of course, it’s for charity, right?”

  Ava nodded and wrote the new price.

  “See you around five?” Patrick took a step back.

  “Bye, Daddy, and don’t be late,” Ava said without turning around.

  Danielle glanced over her shoulder. “Have a good day.”

  Patrick turned on his heel and headed toward his cruiser. Staring through the windshield at Ava and Danielle, he was certain they could be mistaken for mother and daughter based on how they laughed and huddled together to organize the booth.

  A mother for Ava. The thought floated unbidden into his head, or perhaps it had been right on the fringes since she’d walked back into his life. He couldn’t deny the pull of attraction. But he had more than himself to think about. He had Ava. As he watched Danielle drape an arm around his daughter as they admired the finished booth, he couldn’t deny the obvious. Danielle—for good or bad—had worked her way into their lives in a short time.

  Too bad he and Danielle had such different values and goals. They didn’t even have the luxury of taking it slow. To see if their relationship would blossom naturally. She’d be back in Atlanta soon. And after everything he’d done, he didn’t deserve the chance to convince her they could have a future together.

  Danielle shifted positions on the wooden fold-up chair, unaccustomed to sitting in one spot all day. As the day grew long, she found herself searching the crowd for Patrick’s face. Even though a little piece of her heart longed to see him, she reasoned her true concern was for Ava. If Patrick was any later, his daughter would miss the hayride.

  She had enjoyed Ava’s company as the two of them worked on knitting projects—something she hadn’t done in years—between selling merchandise. Gram had taught Jenny and her how to knit when they were little girls. Other than her sore backside, Danielle was surprised at how content she felt. She found it oddly relaxing. More relaxed than she’d felt in…well, she couldn’t
remember when.

  As if to taunt her, her cell phone rang from somewhere deep in her purse. She reached in, recognized the number and hit the ignore button. Let her coworker John leave a message. He was probably working all weekend to cover both her projects and his. A subtle hint of guilt crept into her consciousness, until reality hit. John would be doing everything possible in her absence to position himself front and center for the next promotion. She released a quick breath. Ah, let him.

  “Who was that?” Ava yanked the purple fuzzy yarn from the skein, her eyes intent on her task. “Work again?” The child answered her own question. “Won’t you get in trouble for ignoring the call?”

  “I’ll tell him I didn’t have cell phone reception.” Danielle leaned back in the chair and took up her knitting project, rather proud of her handiwork. She had a few inches of a fuzzy purple scarf hanging off the end of her needle.

  “Won’t that be lying?” Ava asked, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth, stained a pale blue from an earlier slushy drink.

  Danielle lifted her eyes to find Ava watching her intently with a real look of concern in her green eyes. It was like looking into Patrick’s eyes.

  Danielle bit her lower lip and lifted a shoulder. “A little white one,” she offered, feeling heat creep up her neck. Her morals were being called into question by a child.

  “But it’s still a lie.”

  Danielle lowered her knitting needles and met Ava’s gaze. “You’re right. I’ll call my coworker back on Monday morning and tell him that I was busy knitting and couldn’t take his call.” John wouldn’t believe her anyway. The workaholic had taken up a hobby?

  Ava smiled, satisfied. “My dad says the truth is the best.” She lowered her voice and frowned. “Even if it gets me in trouble.”

  “Your dad’s a smart man.” Danielle worked the needle under the loop and wrapped the yarn over. Yet he had used her sister as a drug informant and then had hidden it from her.

  “My dad works too much.” Ava glanced at her watch. “He’s late. I’m going to miss the hayride.” Pink tinged the rims of her eyes.