Chapters (32)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Contents
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
He might be a big oil man, but the house was far from a mansion. A rather small, long, low ranch house with a wide porch around three sides, it was painted pale yellow. Lantana and petunias bloomed in the flower beds on either side of the walkway, and the lawn looked soft and green. That meant there was a sprinkling system, because in July the unrelenting heat had already turned most of the town’s grass brown. Jody slung the door open and stepped out.
“Welcome to my home,” Quincy said as he set Hazel on the ground.
A big yellow cat came out to greet them, rubbing around Hazel’s legs and causing her to sit down with a thud on the grass. She wrapped both arms around the cat and kissed it on each ear.
“Meet Ophelia.” He reached into the back seat of the truck and picked up two bags of groceries. “She likes the cat better than me or her mother.”
Hazel shook her head. “Filly can’t read.”
“She can’t say Ophelia so she calls her Filly. Crazy thing is that I’ve got to doing the same thing. And the cat doesn’t mind. I’ve had her for ten years. Might be the only cat that’s ever been in divorce court,” he chuckled.
“I want to play outside,” Hazel said.
“You mind?” Quincy asked Jody.
“Not a bit. We can read later.” Jody sat down on the porch steps.
“It’s almost dinnertime, sweetheart. Want to help me cook?”
Hazel shook her head and carried Filly to the porch, where she sat down beside Jody. “No. Can Jody eat with us?”
“Of course she can.” Quincy bent to kiss her on the top of her head.
“She’s really articulate for a four-year-old.” Jody stroked Filly’s fur.
Quincy set the bags beside the door, then sat down beside Jody and Hazel on the porch. “She’s been like that from her first words. Sometimes she gets things a little mixed up but not often. And she’s never met a stranger, which is why I never let her out of my sight.”
Hazel smiled up at her dad. “Daddy, can we keep Jody?”
“For a little while today. How about we go make dinner and then Jody might read to you until you fall asleep for your nap?”
Hazel nodded and then held out her hand to Jody. “Mac and cheese and hot dogs?”
“Sounds great to me.” Jody got to her feet and allowed Hazel to lead her into the house.
“Make yourself at home,” Quincy said. “Hazel’s room is the first door on the right down the hallway. I’m not much of a cook, but I do a fine job with what she always wants for dinner. But maybe for supper we can take you out for something a little better, like pizza.”