“Attack?” He tried to conceal his alarm.
“Yeah, she saw how filthy it was the other day. In fact, she raked me over the coals for how nasty the laundry room has gotten since I came home. Like it’s my fault.” She rolled her eyes. “She seems to think that part of my job description should involve keeping house for you, but I told her I’ve got enough to do out here.”
“Well, she’s probably right. We’ve been living like a couple of pigs, Gina. We could both stand to brush up on our domestic skills.” He remembered the manila envelope in his drawer. Hopefully Sophie hadn’t put any freshly laundered jeans in there and spotted it. “Well, maybe I should go talk to your sister. It’s sweet she wants to help, but she shouldn’t overdo it. I’m not looking for a new office manager just so that she can become our full-time housekeeper.”
Going into the house, he wondered how he’d explain the letters and photos to Sophie—if she’d discovered them. Of all three daughters, Sophie had always been the most intrusive when it came to his love life. Not that he’d had much of one this past decade. But the idea of being questioned by Sophie about an old romance ... well, he just didn’t need that at the moment.
She wasn’t in the laundry room or kitchen when he checked, although she’d clearly been there. As he hurried up the stairs,he heard her music drifting from the master suite. As usual, she had her iPhone playing her favorite tunes while she cleaned. She reminded him of Marcie in that way—a love of music and housecleaning. It was actually rather sweet.
“Hey, Sophie,” he said as he found her plumping a bed pillow. “What’s up?”
“Just some much-needed housecleaning, Dad.” She tossed the pillow against the headboard. “Man, you and Gina are hopeless. And helpless.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to step in and rescue us. The reason I agreed to hire the new office manager was to give you some downtime before the baby comes.” He glanced to the bureau and the empty laundry basket next to it. “I don’t want you overdoing it.” He picked up the basket. “Did any of my jeans get washed? I’m down to the last pair.”
“They’re in the dryer right now.”
He felt relieved as he gathered up the pile of dirty sheets and towels she’d heaped by the bathroom. “Well, let me get these for you.”
“Thanks, Dad, but it’s not like I’m an invalid. I’m just pregnant.” She peered curiously at him.
“I know, honey, but I really don’t want you thinking you’re the maid—”
“Ilovecoming here. And Garth was happy to keep the kids today. You guys were so busy that he barely saw them all week. Cleaning your house doesn’t really feel like work. There’s no one tugging on me or distracting me ... it’s quiet and peaceful.” She smoothed the comforter. “Please, don’t say I can’t come here to clean, Dad.”
He sighed. “As long as you don’t wear yourself out.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind if you and Gina picked up a bit,” she said as she was heading out. “The laundry room was almost impassable.”
“We’ve had a busy week.” He followed her downstairs, setting the laundry basket on the kitchen island.
“And the dishes in the kitchen sink looked like they’d been there awhile.”
“Sorry. I’ll tell Gina we have to do better.” He smiled. “Thanks, Sophie. You’re a treasure.”
She pushed a caramel-colored curl away from her face and sighed. She was so much like her mother. Not that he planned to say as much since she never seemed to appreciate the comparison.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” He thanked her again, then shot back up the stairs, closing and even locking the master bedroom door. Then he went straight to his jeans drawer and, relieved to see the envelope still beneath the last pair of clean jeans, he pulled it out.
“Brynna Meyers,” he said the name aloud as he dumped the contents onto the freshly made bed. “Wonder what she’s up to these days.”
Chapter 8
As Jan drove south on Highway 1, she went over their camping itinerary, telling Brynna exactly how long they would stay at each campground, how many hours of traveling time in between, and the various sites she hoped to see along the way. They made several pit stops along the coast—lighthouses, blowholes, and other points of interest that Jan had marked on her map. They had lunch in Depot Bay, enjoying some whale watching from the bridge. As they walked back to the SUV, Brynna offered to drive, but felt relieved when Jan declined. She made it look easy to drive with a trailer trailing behind them, but Brynna wasn’t so sure.
Finally, it was midafternoon and something about the stretch of road felt familiar. “Either I’m having déjà vu or I’ve been down this road before,” Brynna said as a rocky strip of coastline came into view again. “I feel like I’ve been in this very place.”
“I thought you said you’d only vacationed up north.” Jan slowed down so a motorcycle could pass them.
“That’s right. Mostly the Cannon Beach area. And Dirk took me to Seaside a couple of times. But I did go to a camp in high school. It was before my senior year ... in late August.” Brynna tried to remember. “It was somewhere on the coast, but I honestly can’t remember where. Mostly I recall the long, horrible drive ina crowded van with a bunch of rowdy church kids—and being totally miserable.”
“Why were you so miserable?”
“It feels pretty silly now.” Brynna rolled her eyes. “But I was pining away for Dirk.”
“Dirk your ex?” Jan glanced at her.
“Yep. He was supposed to have gone on the trip with me. In fact, he was the only reason I was going at all. But at the last minute, he canceled without even telling me. To make matters worse, he gave his friend Rod a note to hand-deliver to me, but he told him not to give it to me until we were safely on our way. It was a break-up note.”
