The Parent Trap. Lee MckenzieЧитать онлайн книгу.
him in the photograph. The stunning brunette was Georgette Ogilvie, who last year left her job as news anchor at Vancouver’s top-rated TV station, divorced her husband, and was already remarried and living in Europe. So...Jonathan Marshall was the ex-husband.
“He used to be married to that lady from the TV.” Casey swiped the screen. “And they have a daughter named Kate.”
Sarah stood and glanced out the window in time to see him on the driveway below, opening the back of his SUV and hauling out two potted plants. Thinking that a man who kept houseplants must have something going for him was silly, but she thought it just the same. And he was a teacher, after all, and a parent. Probably a good parent, since he seemed to have custody of his daughter.
“Says here that he used to teach at a high school in West Vancouver and...oh, he coaches soccer. Cool. I wonder if he’ll coach my team.”
“I don’t know, and you can’t very well ask him.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’ll wonder how you found out he’s a coach.”
Casey flashed another grin. “Good point. I’ll have to be more subtle.”
The thought of her daughter being anything other than direct had Sarah smiling as she turned back to her desk, organized the invoices and bank statements that still hadn’t been entered into her accounting program, and tucked them into her briefcase. She would have to take them to the store and hope to carve some time out of a busy afternoon to process them. Otherwise she’d have to put in an extra hour or two tonight.
“I’ll run downstairs and see what we have for lunch, then I have to get to the shop. Juliet’s on her own this morning and she’ll need a break. What would you like?”
“What’ve we got?”
Not much. “Grilled cheese sandwiches?”
Casey shook her head. “Nuh-uh. I threw out the bread at breakfast.” She scrunched her nose. “Moldy.”
Gross. “Then I guess that leaves us with a can of chicken noodle soup and crackers. I’ll grab a few groceries on my way home.” For the millionth time, she wondered how every area of her life was so well organized and yet her culinary skills were nonexistent.
“It’s pizza and movie night. One pepperoni and one ham and pineapple.” Casey shoved the iPad back into its sleeve and peeled off her sweatshirt. “I need to have a shower. I’m covered with doggy slobber and kitty litter. They were shorthanded this morning so I helped clean out the kennels after I brought the dogs back.”
“Pizza it is.” She really is a good kid, Sarah thought, making a mental note of the request while thinking she should also bring home something a little more nutritious. As long as she didn’t have to cook it.
“Speaking of cats...”
“Actually, we were talking about pizza.”
This time her daughter’s grin had a mischievous innocence to it. “Nice try, Mom. Cats make good pets and they don’t need nearly as much attention as a dog.”
“Casey,” she warned. Even the thought of having a cat in the house made her eyelids itch. “Don’t even think about it.”
“All right, then. We’ll have to settle for Petey.” Casey tossed the final sassy suggestion over her shoulder as she dashed out of the room, leaving Sarah no opportunity to respond.
Every day Sarah counted her blessings that she had a daughter who worked hard at school and she was beyond grateful that at fourteen, her girl was still more interested in animals than she was in boys. All good qualities, but Sarah couldn’t relent on adding a dog to their already-hectic household. Her daughter had a way of wearing her down, but not this time. While she was the first to acknowledge that Casey’s hard work and enthusiasm deserved recognition, giving in to her desire to have a dog was not the way to go.
She double-checked the contents of her briefcase, zipped it shut and carried it downstairs just as the moving van pulled away from the house next door. From inside the screen door she watched until it disappeared around the corner, and then the street was quiet again.
Lunch, she reminded herself. She would heat the soup in the microwave and have a quick meal with Casey, then they would deliver the cookies and welcome their new neighbors to Serenity Bay before she left for work. Until then, she wouldn’t let herself think about the man next door who was both single and singularly good-looking. If there was no room in her life for man’s best friend, there was definitely no room for a man.
* * *
“DAD? HAVE YOU seen the box that has my shoes in it?”
Jonathan Marshall studied his fourteen-year-old fashionista as she clattered down the stairs of their new home. Then he shifted his attention to the piles of packing boxes piled willy-nilly in the foyer, living room and beyond. Stacked in their former home in West Vancouver, they had represented a fresh start. Now those same boxes were the source of some serious second thoughts.
Was this the right decision? Was leaving the city and moving to the small coastal town of Serenity Bay the best thing for him? For Kate? She sure didn’t think so. She hadn’t wanted to leave her friends, the city, their home or her school, and in that order, although he suspected their condo’s close proximity to the mall was what she’d really miss. He understood that, all of it. He only asked that she keep an open mind, all the while realizing that was a tall order. If there was one thing a high school teacher knew above all else, it was that teenagers rarely had open minds. And why would they? They already knew at least as much as the average adult and definitely more than their parents.
Kate tore open a box and turned up her nose at the contents. “Kitchen stuff.”
“Good to know. How about you keep opening boxes and I’ll put them where they belong?”
“Seriously?”
“This’ll go a lot faster if we work together.”
Kate exhaled a long, dramatic sigh. “I guess, but I need my shoes.”
Knowing it would be futile to remind her that she was already wearing a perfectly good pair of shoes, Jon carried the box of pots and pans into the kitchen and set it on the counter. Kate had ripped opened two more boxes by the time he returned.
“Another one for the kitchen and this one—” She touched the box with the toe of her pink sneaker. “Bathroom. We should have labeled these.”
“There was no time,” he said, depositing the box of towels at the bottom of the stairs. “Did you write anything on your boxes?”
“Never thought of it. I’ll remember that for next time.”
Next time? Best let that drop, he decided as he returned to the kitchen with the second box. He had signed a one-year lease on this place and until that was up he was in no hurry to move again, so there was no point in giving her a chance to say she wanted to move back to the city. He had already accepted the position as PE teacher at Serenity Bay High School, and he had every intention of giving this fresh start his best shot.
Besides, this was a great house with its front facing onto a quiet cul-de-sac. Jubilation Court—which really was their new address—had lived up to its name from the moment he’d gazed out the kitchen window. He stared out the window now and surveyed the cedar-plank deck and, between the two towering firs growing at the bottom of the slope that was his backyard, the sweeping curve of Serenity Bay and the Salish Sea beyond.
Okay, maybe jubilant wasn’t exactly right, but in spite of his daughter’s resentment he sensed he could feel settled here, content even. Emotions that had evaded him since his ex-wife had dropped her bombshell. With a shake of his head, he chased the memories away. Fresh start, remember? The old baggage had been left behind. Right? Right. That’s what he told the kids on his soccer team. We can’t dwell on the past, we can only analyse it and improve our game. If they could believe it,