Holly hit the right button and tossed the phone toward her mother. Lily caught it in midair and said, “Hello, Wyatt. So no deal on helping raise your children?”

“I told you when we divorced that I’d pay child support and see them when I could, but I didn’t want custody then, and I don’t want custody now. Victoria and I have a lifestyle that doesn’t . . .” He paused. “Why are you going back to Comfort, anyway, and at this time of year? Can’t you do what’s best for the kids and at least stay in Austin until summer?”

“I am doing what’s best for them. I caught your daughter smoking pot in the public library bathroom two days ago, and I just now found out that your son has been sneaking out at night to smoke and drink with his little preteen buddies. So I’m taking them out of the city, and they aren’t getting their phones or tablets for a long time.” Lily carried the phone into the next room. “If you think you can do better with them, maybe they could spend some quality time with you that involves more than taking them to dinner every six months, or to a hotel for a couple of days while Victoria is off somewhere on one of her business trips.”

“Good God!” he gasped. “I wouldn’t know what to do with them, and believe me, Miami is worse than Austin.”

“Then Comfort it is,” Lily said.

“Good luck,” Wyatt muttered, and the call ended.

Lily returned and dropped the phone into the tote bag she had sitting on the end table. Then she turned to face Holly and Braden, who were still pouting on the sofa. “I expect all your electronic devices to be in that bag in ten minutes.”

Holly groaned and Braden moaned at the same time.

“Until you earn the right to have your phones back, you can talk to your father when he calls on the house phone in Comfort. Oh, and FYI, it’s a corded phone that hangs on the kitchen wall. Since you won’t have anything else to do this afternoon, you can start packing. Set your alarms for six thirty in the morning.”

Braden pulled his phone out of his hip pocket and dropped it in the bag. He looked longingly at it, as if he were looking at his best friend lying in a casket. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh and started down the hall toward his bedroom. “What am I supposed to pack in?”