K
Joyce didn’t know what to make of that. It was so short. And odd. Was Kyle in trouble? What could be going on?
Joyce couldn’t speak for Mitch, but she sort of had to. She typed out a fast reply, picking up on a sense of urgency that might be all in her head.
Dear Kyle,
No matter what, your father loves you and would want to make things right between you two. I know he would forgive you if you would forgive him. It works both ways. Is there anything I can do to help you? Are you all right? I’m only a phone call away.
Please let me know.
With love,
Joyce
She added her phone number under her name, just as a reminder, then hit Send and said a little prayer that whatever was going on with Kyle was nothing too serious.
Then she said one for herself. If she’d started something she shouldn’t have, she was going to be in a lot of trouble.
Chapter Thirteen
Harper had been out on a few boats in her time. Two of them had actually been legitimate yachts. Celebrities liked to show off and boats were a great way to do that. Even if they were only renting, which a lot of them did. Chartering was what they called it, but renting was the reality.
Still, it had been a few years since she’d been out on any kind of watercraft. She wasn’t sure what today would entail. If they’d just be riding around on the boat, or getting in the water, too.
She decided to wear a bikini with shorts and a T-shirt over it, and to bring a coverup in her bag. That would be easier to put on over a wet suit than actual clothing.
She also packed a big beach towel, a hat, two kinds of sunscreen, a lip balm with SPF 50, a backup phone battery bank with a charging cord, her tablet, cooling vitamin face wipes, a hair elastic, a hair clip, and a small baggie that held a container of ibuprofen, Band-Aids, and a tube of antibiotic ointment.
Probably overkill. Mitch’s boat would have a first aid kit. She hoped. She had no idea what kind of boat it was. For all she knew, it was a fishing dingy. But he’d invited them and the dogs. That had to mean there was room, right?
And even a fishing dingy should have a first aid kit. If not, she had the bare minimum with her. Better safe than sorry.
For Archie, she packed an extra towel, a collapsable dog bowl, a baggie of his kibble, and a smaller baggie of treats from the big basket of goodies Mitch had sent. She tucked in a puppy training pad just in case he had to go to the bathroom while they were out on the water. It wouldn’t do for him to have an accident on Mitch’s boat.
She’d thought about taking a bottle of water just for him, but there’d be plenty of water. Mitch said he’d provide drinks. That had to include water.
She took her big tote bag out to the kitchen. Willa was on the couch, earbuds in, phone in her hands, doing whatever.
Archie was standing by the doors out to the back deck.
“You need to go out?”
His tag wagged and he woofed softly.
Willa sat up, not as unaware as Harper had imagined. “Does he need to go out?”
“Yes.”
She stood, pulled her earbuds out, and tucked her phone into the back pocket of her white cut-off shorts. “I’ll take him. You might need to help my mom. I think she’s freaking slightly about being in a bathing suit all day.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll go up and check on her.”
As Willa headed down the steps with Archie, Harper went up. She found Frankie in the bathroom in front of the mirror. Sighing. She was wearing a blue printed tankini with a skirted bottom. “You look cute. What’s wrong?”
“Please.” Frankie rolled her eyes. “Getting old sucks, that’s what’s wrong.”
Harper leaned on the door frame. “No argument from me. But you really do look cute in that suit.”
