Deadline (Sandra Brown)

by the time she reached the steps to the porch, she was practically running and out of breath. She shut the front door soundly behind her and shot the dead bolt. Then she went through each room of the lower story, checking it. But for what, she couldn’t say.
    Feeling a bit foolish for the unwarranted panic, she ordered herself to get a grip. Even so, she poured a second glass of wine and took it with her when she went upstairs. The boys were just as she’d left them. In her bedroom, she finished her wine while preparing for bed.
    But she didn’t fall asleep. It wasn’t until much later, after she heard Stephanie come in and quietly shut the door to her bedroom, that she relaxed enough to close her eyes.
    *  *  *
     
    “Knock, knock?” Without waiting for an answer, the back door was pushed open and a shock of white hair appeared in the crack. “Anybody home?”
    “Bernie!”
    “Bernie!”
    Both boys scrambled from their chairs at the breakfast table and rushed to greet their next-door neighbor. They were instantly intrigued by the large sack he’d carried in. With unabashed greed, Hunter asked, “Did you bring us something?”
    “Mind your manners, young man,” Amelia scolded.
    Bernie laughed. “It’s okay. I did, in fact, bring them something. But they have to finish breakfast before they can have it.”
    Amelia gave him a look of thanks as the boys returned to the table and attacked their cereal bowls.
    “Coffee?”
    “Thank you, but stay where you are. I’ll get it.”
    He had one bad hip, and the other had already been replaced. As he went to the cabinet for a mug, Amelia noticed that his tottering gait was more pronounced than usual. After pouring his coffee, he joined her and the children at the table.
    “My feelings were hurt,” she told him.
    He blew on his coffee. “Why’s that?”
    “I thought you might have left for home while I was in Savannah.” He lived in Upper Michigan.
    “Without saying good-bye? Never.”
    “Your house was dark last night.”
    “I was packing up and cleaning all day yesterday. Tuckered me out. I went to bed early.”
    “The rental company has people who thoroughly clean the house after you’re gone. You didn’t have to do it yourself.”
    “I know, but I’m fussy. Hate the thought of people seeing my dirt.”
    “You should have asked Stef and me for help.”
    “It looked to me like you were having a grand time on the beach. I wouldn’t have interrupted your play.”
    “Grant, blot your mouth, please.” She rolled her eyes when he used the sleeve of his T-shirt rather than his napkin. Bernie chuckled. She asked him when he planned to leave.
    “In a day or so. Have to get back and settle in for the long winter.”
    “You could stay longer. Better yet, you could move here permanently.”
    “Home’s up there,” he said with a touch of sadness. “You know how it is.”
    He and his wife of decades, of whom he often spoke, had lived in the same house from the day they’d married. She had died years ago, but he continued to mourn her and refused to move away from the town where she was buried and where one day he would be interred beside her.
    “Well, I’m glad you didn’t go before we could say a proper good-bye.” She reached across the table and patted his hand.
    “Hey, Bernie,” Stef chirped as she passed through the kitchen carrying a bundle of laundry bound for the utility room. “You look smokin’ this morning! I like that shirt.”
    It was flamingo pink and matched a stripe in his equally loud Bermuda shorts.
    “Thanks. It’s new.”
    Amelia hid her smile in her coffee cup. Stef’s flirting never failed to fluster the senior. After dumping her bundle in the laundry room, she reentered the kitchen and pointed to the large sack he’d left on the countertop. “What’s that?”
    “A going-away present for the boys.”
    “Can we have it now?” Hunter pushed his empty cereal bowl across the table for Amelia’s inspection. “We ate our breakfast.”
    “Yeah, Mom, please,” Grant chimed in.
    “I suppose so.”
    Bernie seemed as eager as they to open the sack and reveal the surprise. With touching pride, he reached into the sack and produced a box. On it was a picture of a kite in the shape of a pirate ship. It was an elaborate thing, with multiple sails.
    “Oh my gosh!” Amelia exclaimed. “Will it actually fly?”
    “Can we do it now, Bernie?”
    He looked at Amelia. “Can they?”
    She laughed. “Of course. But