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“All I remember is that we fumbled around a little on the backseat of her dad’s Volvo one night. Like I said, I don’t remember going that far, but apparently we must have.”

“Oh, Tex,” said Marge. “For a doctor you’re hopelessly clueless sometimes.”

“Obviously I must have had relations with the woman, otherwise Dudley wouldn’t have been born.” He smiled. “I always wanted a son. I love Odelia, but a son is… special.”

She gave him a dirty look which he totally didn’t catch and folded her arms across her chest, giving herself up to dark thoughts about her husband and men in general. Why was it they all considered a son their highest goal?

“Dudley wants to be a doctor, you know,” said Tex, with a beatific smile on his face. “Or at least he always wanted to be a doctor but his mom couldn’t afford the tuition so he never pursued his dream. Maybe he still can. With a little help from his dear old dad.”

“Oh, Tex!” Marge cried, and swung her feet from the bed. She couldn’t stand to be in the same room with this man anymore.

“What did I say?” asked her husband dumbly.

But she was already stalking out of the room and then she was stomping down the stairs and into the kitchen. And she’d just taken the milk from the fridge so she could warm up a glass, when suddenly she became aware of a noise nearby and slammed the fridge door shut, only to be faced with… Dudley, staring at her intently!

“D-Dudley,” she stuttered, much surprised. “You startled me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs. Poole,” said Dudley in that obsequious and overly polite way of his. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just had one of those midnight cravings, you know.” He smiled and gestured to the bottle of milk in her hand. “Like you, I guess.”

“Yeah, I-I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I might as well have a glass of warm milk.”

“My mom used to drink warm milk before going to bed,” said Dudley as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “With a spoon of honey and some nutmeg. Always did the trick. Even when she was sick, she used to ask me for a glass of warm milk.” His smile faltered and Marge suddenly felt bad for talking about the kid behind his back. He clearly had been through a terrible time with his mother dying from cancer.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “That must have been really hard on you. To lose your mom like that.”

“It was,” he said, then his smile returned. “That’s why I’m so happy to have found Tex—and you, Mrs. Poole. A new start for me. A new chance at happiness.”

She nodded, and poured some milk in a pan and put it on the stove then pressed the designated spot on the ceramic cooktop to turn up the heat. The cooktop instantly glowed hot.

“I can’t wait to get to know you better, Mrs. Poole,” said Dudley as he dragged a casual hand through his neat blond do. “You, my dad, Vesta… and Odelia, of course—my sister.”

“You can call me Marge, Dudley,” she said as she took two cups from the cupboard.

“Thanks, Marge.”

“Did your mother never mention Tex before?”

Dudley shook his head.“No, and she was very sorry that she hadn’t. At the end she said she wished she’d been more honest with me. I could have had a real father in my life much sooner. Which is why I’m so happy that you invited me to stay. This way I can make up for lost time.”

“That’s nice,” Marge muttered vaguely.

“You know what? Maybe we can all do something together tomorrow. Like… going to the beach? Or see a movie together as a family?”

Marge made a noncommittal noise. She wasn’t really ready for family trips with this kid yet, but couldn’t exactly come right out and tell him so.

She poured the milk into the cups and handed him one.

“If the death of my mother taught me one thing, it’s that you have to enjoy every day as if it’s the last one. Spend time with your family while you can, for you never know when it will be over. And it can all be over like that.” He snapped his fingers, startling her.

She put a hand on her heart and laughed.“I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little on edge.”

“And why is that, Marge?” he asked, leaning closer until they were almost face to face. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

“No–no, of course not.”

“I mean, I can see how this might look to you: your husband inviting a stranger into your home. Who knows where I’ve been—what I’ve been up to, you know?”

She stared at him. There was a strange glow in the kid’s eyes. A glow she didn’t know how to interpret. It was almost… menacing.

But then he flashed that engaging smile again, and said,“I’m off to bed, Marge. I hope you have a nice evening.”

“Yeah. You, too,” she said, and returned his smile. But as soon as he was gone, her smile faltered, and she wondered who this kid was.

Chapter 20

“I find that very hard to believe, honey. Tex? Owner of a plot of land on Grover’s Point?”

“That’s what those developers told me. And if he doesn’t sell them his little piece of land they can’t proceed with their plans to build that mall.”

“The Charlene Butterwick Mall,” Alec said with a grin.