“Did you think we wouldn’t recognize you?”

“I may look like him, but I’m not your father,” Joe said to the two children gazing at him as if he were the villain in a horror movie. “My name is Joe Smith.”

“That sounds like a made-up name,” the boy accused.

“It’s not. If you wait just a minute, I’ll go inside and get my wallet. It has my driver’s license in it.”

“It’s probably fake.”

“If you’re not going to accept my license as proof, what will satisfy you?”

The little girl whispered something to her brother, who then turned and said, “Take off your shirt. Or are you chicken?”

Joe almost chuckled at the absurdity of the request. Two kids were accusing him of being their deadbeat dad—and demanding that he remove his shirt to prove it. He decided to humor the kids rather than argue with them. He’d do pretty much anything to show them he wasn’t their father. He pulled the bottom of his T-shirt from his pants and lifted it over his head, leaving him bare chested and the object of their wide-eyed stares.

“It is you!”

Dear Reader,

What is it about fathers?

Alex, the ten-year-old boy in this story, wants one so badly that he goes to great lengths to find his missing dad. That’s because a father holds a very special place in his child’s heart. I know mine does, and it’s been a while since I was ten. My father was my first hero, chasing away the monsters under my bed at night and carrying me on his shoulders to keep my feet from getting stuck in the snow. He taught me how to ride a bike, to drive a car and above all, how a woman should expect to be treated by a man.

I’m no longer a little girl, but I haven’t stopped looking at my father as a hero. He has no medals of honor or commendations for bravery, but he is kind, gentle, honest and dependable. Most important, he’s given his children a great gift. He’s loved their mother for more than sixty years.

Alex’s search for his father leads him to an important discovery. He finds a hero who holds a special place not only in his heart, but in his mother’s, too. I hope you’ll enjoy their story.

Sincerely,

Pamela Bauer

Two Much Alike
Pamela Bauer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For two very special sets of twins:

My dad, Clifford Ronning, and his brother, Clarence and Marilyn and Marlene Muehlbauer, two dear friends who introduced me to my real-life hero, their brother Gerr

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

PROLOGUE

“DID YOU GET IT?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t easy.” Alex Harper unzipped his backpack and pulled out a photograph. “My mom threw out most of his pictures. I found this one in a box in the basement.” He gave the photo to Josh Gallivan, who studied it closely.

“He’s a sailor?”

“He was a sailor. Now he’s a bum.”

Josh glanced at the photograph, then at Alex and then back at the photo again. “He looks normal.”

“He’s not. I’m just glad I don’t look like him. I don’t, do I?” Alex’s tone dared his best friend to disagree.

Again Josh looked from the picture to Alex. “Naw, you don’t look like him at all. He could be a total stranger.”

He was a total stranger as far as Alex was concerned. With each passing birthday, Alex’s memories of his father had dimmed, until now—at the age of ten—his father was simply a face on a piece of paper, a man who smelled like cigars and didn’t like to get his pants wrinkled.

As Josh slipped the photo into the scanner, Alex turned his attention to the monitor, waiting for the image to appear on the screen. He wasn’t nervous, yet his stomach felt funny—the same way it had that time he’d fallen out of the big oak tree in the backyard.

“Here it comes,” Josh said, as the image appeared on the screen in startling clarity. “Okay, we’ve got it. Now all we have to do is cut and paste it to your poster.” Josh moved the mouse with a familiarity Alex envied. Known as the biggest computer geek in the fourth grade, Josh knew more about computers than some adults. Most kids thought it was because his dad was a programmer and Josh had had his very own computer since he was big enough to sit on a chair. Alex, however, knew the real reason. Josh was super smart.

“Done,” he boasted proudly.

Alex gazed at the monitor. At the top of the screen in large letters were the words “Have You Seen This Man?” Occupying the rest of the space was the picture Josh had just scanned. A shiver rippled through Alex.

“What happened to the stuff at the bottom?” he asked.

“It’s there.” Josh scrolled down the page until the message typed in capital letters appeared. Then he read aloud, “His name is Dennis Harper. He’s a deadbeat who deserted his family. If you see him, call me immediately.” He rattled off the digits of Alex’s phone number. “Well?”

“It’s okay…I guess,” Alex said tentatively.

“I think it’d be better if we put your picture on it, too,” Josh suggested. “My mom’s in advertising and she says that if you want to get people’s attention, you should use pictures of kids. You do want people to take a good look at the poster, don’t you?”

Alex thought for a moment. “You really think it would help?”

Josh nodded, then reached across his desk to a cork bulletin board where push pins held half a dozen wallet-size photos in place. He grabbed the one Alex had given him at the start of the school year and placed it in the scanner.

A few moments later, he said, “Now we’ll print.” He hit another key and almost immediately a paper emerged from the printer. He pulled it from the tray and handed it to Alex. “What do you think?”

Alex thought it was weird to see his picture on the same paper as his father’s. A deadbeat dad and a searching son. They weren’t exactly the typical father and son.

Not that Alex cared. He didn’t need a dad and he didn’t care if his ever came back. He just wanted to find him so the judge could make his dad pay what he owed his mom. Then she wouldn’t have to work so much. If she had someone to help pay the bills, she could take some time off to spend with him and his sister and brother this summer. They might even get to take a vacation. And get some new clothes instead of having to wear the stuff his mom found at garage sales. Maybe he could even get his own computer and show the other kids at school that he was just as smart as Josh.

“Well, is it okay or isn’t it?” Josh asked. “You want me to make copies?”

With his father’s face staring at him, Alex found that suddenly he wasn’t sure. For so long he’d wanted to find his dad, yet now that there was a possibility he might just do it, he found the prospect a little scary. What if his mom was right? What if they were better off without Dennis Harper in their lives?

He looked at Josh. “This isn’t a dumb idea, is it?”

“Uh-uh. When Billy Carson’s cat was missing, he found it by printing up posters and putting them all over town. If it’ll work for a cat, why wouldn’t it work for a person?”

Alex realized that Josh thought he was questioning the wisdom of printing the posters, not his attempt to locate his father. It shouldn’t have surprised him that his friend wouldn’t understand why he might have second thoughts. After all, Josh had a father. It was true his parents were divorced, but his dad came every other weekend to pick him up and take him places. He also played catch with Josh and helped coach his little league team. He hadn’t abandoned his kids after the divorce. He wasn’t anything like Dennis Harper.

“Do you want me to print them or not?” Josh asked a bit impatiently, when Alex still hadn’t given him the go-ahead.

Alex hesitated only a moment before saying, “Yeah. It’s about time somebody found that dead-beat.”

CHAPTER ONE

JOE SMITH WAS ON HIS WAY into the hardware store when he heard a voice behind him say, “Someone’s looking for you.”

For a moment Joe felt trapped. It was an instinctive reaction caused by a fear that the identity he’d worked so hard to conceal might be exposed. It didn’t matter that during the two years he’d lived in northern Minnesota, no one had suspected that he was anyone but Joe Smith, a man looking for a quiet life along the shores of Lake Superior. He knew, however, that the past had a way of catching up with a person, especially when that past contained secrets.

Hoping today wasn’t that day, he forced himself to turn around. Standing behind him was the owner of Whispering Pines, a resort on the outskirts of the small town of Grand Marais.

“Hey, Pete. How’s it going?” Joe greeted him with a handshake.

“It’s going good. How about yourself?”

“Can’t complain.” Joe knew he needed to get right to the point. “Did you say someone’s looking for me?”

“Yup. One of the guests at the lodge,” the older man responded. “Says he wants to talk to you about a fly-in.”

The muscles in Joe’s body began to uncoil. He should have known that it would be someone wanting to go fishing, not a snoop asking questions.

“Did you tell him to contact Blue Waters?”

“Sure I did, but I suspect they told him what they tell most tourists about this time of year. If you don’t book ahead, you’re out of luck. And you know how these rich folks are. They think they can get whatever they want by flapping a few extra bills in someone’s face.”

“How big of bills?” Joe asked with a sly smile.

“Big enough to turn my head,” Pete admitted with a chuckle. “Seriously, it could be a nice little side job for you,” he said, lowering his voice and glancing around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “I know you have a loyalty to Blue Waters, but you really should think about being your own boss.”

Joe looked out at Lake Superior and squinted as the sun bounced off the glistening water. “It’s a lot of work running your own business.”

“You don’t need to tell me,” the other man said with an understanding shake of his head. “But you’re a good pilot, Joe. And as for the responsibility and hard work…well, you’re practically running Blue Waters right now.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, Pete, but I’m content to leave the problems behind when I go home. Blue Waters has been good to me.”

It was true. Joe had worried that with a new identity he’d have trouble finding work as a pilot. Although he’d logged a considerable number of hours in the air while in the Navy, they were hours he’d been forced to leave behind, along with his name, when he’d moved to Minnesota. Not wanting to risk being traced because of his license, he’d started over, taking flying lessons and passing all the requirements of a new pilot. If anyone at Blue Waters thought it was odd that he appeared to be a much better pilot than his experience indicated, they didn’t comment on it. He was able to work in relative anonymity, without any questions about his past, without any enquiries into his personal life.

It was the way Joe wanted it and the way he needed it to be. It would have been nice to run his own flying service, but it was a risk he couldn’t take. Running a business meant regulations and regulations meant red tape and inspectors. What he couldn’t afford was to leave a paper trail that would allow the wrong people to come looking for him. He’d made a new life for himself, deliberately choosing Smith as a surname because it was common and hard to trace. There was no point in taking a chance that someone would discover that he’d once been somebody else.

“Besides, with my dad’s health being what it is…” He let the sentence trail off, knowing perfectly well the lodge’s owner would deduce that Joe worked for someone else because he needed to take care of his father.

Which wasn’t a lie. A head injury and subsequent stroke had forever changed his father. Joe hadn’t anticipated that the strong, imposing man who had run his home with the same discipline he’d used when commanding his naval troops would ever need to lean on anyone—and especially not his son. The man who had been the epitome of authority now found himself dependent.

“I understand what you’re saying, Joe,” Pete said, his eyes as sympathetic as his tone. “How is the Admiral?”

“He’s doing all right,” he answered honestly.

Pete shook his head. “The brain’s a complicated thing, isn’t it?”

Joe nodded. “It is. He can tell you exactly what he paid for every car he ever purchased, yet he has trouble making change for a dollar.”

“How’s Letty been working out for you?”

Letty was a retired nurse Joe had hired to look after his father whenever he was gone. “She’s been great. She certainly has made my life a lot easier.”

“I knew she would.” Pete nodded toward the hardware store. “You going in or coming out?”

“In. Need to get a washer for a faucet. What about you?”

“I’m on my way to get my ears lowered,” he said, glancing in the direction of the barbershop down the street. “But I’m glad I ran into you. About this fella that’s looking for you…should I tell him to stop by?”

What Joe didn’t want was people coming to his place. His home at the lake was his sanctuary. The fewer people who visited there, the less complicated his life would be. “I’ll tell you what. How about if I give him a call when I get back to the house?” he suggested.

“Good enough.” Pete gave him the man’s name, then bid Joe goodbye, leaving him with a “You take care now.”

Joe certainly would do just that. He’d taken a lot of care from the very first day he’d arrived in northern Minnesota. He’d been careful to mind his own business, careful not to raise anyone’s curiosity about his or his father’s past, and especially careful not to give anyone a reason to believe he was anything but a concerned son who’d brought his ailing father to spend what was left of his life in the peaceful woods near the Canadian border.

No question—Joe would take very good care not to let his past catch up with him.

“I WISH I COULD GO WITH,” ten-year-old Emma said on a sigh as she watched her mother apply mascara to lashes that were already long and lush.

“You wouldn’t enjoy yourself,” Frannie Harper told her daughter.

“Yes, I would. Auntie Lois is so much fun.”

Lois was fun, Frannie thought as memories of their last night out together filtered through her mind. Latin music, salsa dancing, Corona beer, handsome men.

“Sorry, love, this is a night for grown-ups only.”

And there weren’t many of those in her life, Frannie acknowledged as she put aside the mascara and went to the closet. Being a single parent, she’d had little time for anything except work and taking care of her family. Nor did she have the money for going out with the girls—something she was reminded of when she opened her closet door.

She grimaced as she pushed aside hangers holding garments that should have been relegated to the rag bag years ago, but still constituted her wardrobe. She didn’t have a single thing that could be classified as trendy. Practical yes, trendy no. She knew the kind of places her sister frequented, and they were filled with people wearing the latest styles.

She sighed, knowing she really had only one choice: Old Faithful. It was a black sheath with a touch of glitter, a dress she figured she must have worn at least a hundred times. “Timeless” was how the clerk who’d sold it to her had described it. “Boring” was how Frannie had come to look at it. She dragged it from the hanger and went to stand in front of the full-length mirror.

“One hundred and one,” she mumbled to herself as she tugged the dress over her head.

“One hundred and one what, Mommy?” Emma asked.

“Nothing, sweetie. I was wondering if I’ve worn this dress a hundred times yet,” she said as she straightened the hemline.

“I’d wear it a million times if it were mine. It’s so pretty,” Emma said with a childlike sincerity.

Frannie sighed. “It’s old.”

“You said there’s nothing wrong with old,” Emma reminded her.

Frannie smiled.So my words come back to haunt me. “You’re right. Old is comfortable.”

When Frannie spritzed her neck with a cologne Lois had given her for her birthday, Emma said, “You never wear perfume. Are you going looking for men?”

She put her hands on her hips and clicked her tongue. “You know better than to even ask that question. I have all the men in my life that I need.”

Emma slipped her feet into Frannie’s high-heel sandals and walked over to the mirror where she pirouetted on wobbly legs. “I’m never getting married.”

As much as Frannie was tempted to say, “Smart girl,” she simply said, “Never is a long time.”

“I know, but I hate boys. They’re stupid. That’s why I’m never getting married,” Emma insisted. “I’m glad you don’t have a boyfriend. They’re too messy.”

Curious, Frannie asked, “Messy how?”

“Ever since Ashley Wilcott’s mom got a boyfriend, their life’s been messed up. They don’t get to dog-sit for the humane society anymore, Ashley can’t eat her dinner on a TV tray and if she leaves even one little sip of milk in her glass he tells her she’s wasting food and makes her do extra chores. Ashley says he’s always at her house butting into their business, too.”

Frannie felt a wave of sympathy for Ashley’s mother. She knew firsthand how difficult it was for a single mom to have any kind of personal life. When Lois had finally convinced Frannie she should start dating again, it hadn’t taken long for her to realize that whether or not the kids were with her physically, they were always with her emotionally. And the few men she had brought home had been put through an inquisition no human should have to endure. Frannie had decided a long time ago that life was complicated enough without adding romance to the picture.

Just then the doorbell rang, and Emma kicked off the shoes and exclaimed in delight, “Auntie Lois is here!”

“Tell her I’m not quite ready, but I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

As Frannie ran a brush through her blond hair, she could hear the commotion her sister’s presence generated. It had always been that way. Her kids hovered around their aunt like bees around a flower.

By the time Frannie went into the living room, however, the bees and the flower were nowhere in sight. She poked her head inside the boys’ room and, as she’d expected, saw her children gathered around Lois. She held a bright yellow piece of paper in her hands that Alex snatched away when he noticed his mother.

Normally Frannie would have asked what it was they’d been looking at, but her sister’s appearance had her mouth agape. Lois’s short hair, which normally fell in soft blond layers, was the color of a red pepper, sticking straight out from her head like porcupine quills. She had on black leather pants, a matching leather bandeau top that revealed more of her midsection than it covered and platform shoes that added three inches to her already tall figure. More than trendy, Frannie thought.

“Like my new look?” she asked Frannie with a crooked grin.

“If you open your mouth and I see metal, I’m not going anywhere with you,” Frannie warned.

Lois grinned, then stuck out her tongue. There were no rings of any sort piercing it. “You know I hate pain. The hair’s cool, isn’t it?” she asked, then stuck out her hands. “Look. My nails are the exact same color as my hair.”

“They are!” Emma exclaimed. “Cool!” She examined her aunt’s long, slender fingers carefully.

“Is it permanent?” Frannie asked, nodding toward her sister’s red head.

“Heavens, no. It washes out. I have to be in court tomorrow morning.”

“Is it a murder case?” Alex asked, his eyes widening.

“No, just someone who needs help,” Lois answered.

“I’m going to be a lawyer and help people when I grow up, too,” Emma said, gazing at her aunt with adoration.

“Me, too,” said three-year-old Luke, who often repeated everything his older sister said.

Lois ruffled her nephew’s hair affectionately. “I thought you were going to be a cowboy.”

“I think he’s going to be a demolition man. He destroys everything,” Alex said dryly.

“He’s not that bad,” Emma chastised her twin.

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the baby-sitter.

After going over a list of instructions with the teenager, Frannie gave each of her kids a kiss and hug, then headed out the front door with her sister.

“Is that for us?” Frannie asked when she saw a taxi at the curb.

“Yes. I figured you wouldn’t want to take your car, and you know how much I hate driving downtown. Besides, someone wanted to do me a favor,” she said as she ushered her sister toward the cab.

“And this is the favor? A chauffeur?” she asked, as a thickset man hopped out of the taxi to get the door for them.

“Yes. This is Lenny.” She tossed a smile at the man who fussed over them as if they were celebrities.

Lenny, Frannie discovered, was the brother of a woman Lois had counseled through a domestic crisis. Relieved that the man who’d made life so miserable for his sister had been put behind bars, Lenny had insisted on showing his appreciation by giving Lois free taxi service on his night off.

“It will be nice not to have to worry about traffic and parking,” Frannie said as she settled into the back seat.

“Yes, it will,” Lois agreed. As soon as the taxi had pulled away from the curb, she said, “You didn’t tell me that Alex is trying to find Dennis.”

Frannie sighed. “You know how he feels about money. He thinks we don’t have enough and that getting Dennis’s child support payments would make our lives much easier.”

“It would,” Lois said candidly. “That’s why you were looking for him, too. Remember?”

She shook her head. “Please, don’t remind me.”

“Frannie, he should pay. He’s their father.”

“At one time I felt that way, but not now. I don’t want his money and I certainly don’t want him back in our lives.” She hated the bitterness that always managed to creep into her voice at the mention of her ex.

“Well, Alex does, and he’s printed up a couple of hundred posters with Dennis’s picture on them. He’s going to put them all over town.”

A knot formed in Frannie’s stomach.

When she was silent, Lois asked, “You do know about the posters, don’t you?”

“I knew he was thinking about doing them. We talked about it a couple of weeks ago, but I thought I’d convinced him it wouldn’t accomplish anything.” Unsure if she needed to persuade her sister, she added, “It won’t, you know.”

To her relief, Lois said, “I didn’t say it would. If he hasn’t been found by now, I doubt anyone’s going to locate him. We know Dennis Harper’s not in the Twin Cities and chances of him being anywhere in the Midwest are next to none.”

“Which means it’s just a waste of time,” Frannie concluded.

“Not to Alex it isn’t.” She shot her sister a sideways glance. “That’s what’s really bugging you, isn’t it? The fact that Alex still thinks about his father.”

“Of course it bothers me,” Frannie admitted, knowing there was no point in denying it. “My kids have spent more time with their dentist than they have with their own father. Dennis was never a dad to them, just a man who drifted in and out of their lives when it was convenient for him. He doesn’t deserve to have any of their thoughts and he certainly isn’t worthy of a son like Alex. Believe me, if I had it in my power to make Alex forget Dennis ever existed, I would do it in a minute.”

“But he did exist. And it’s something Alex needs to deal with in his own way.”

“Why?” she cried out in frustration, although she already knew the answer. So did her sister, who chose not to say anything.

After a few moments of silence, Frannie said, “I hate knowing Alex even thinks about the man.”

“It’s normal, Frannie,” Lois said, putting a hand on her sister’s arm.

She chewed on her upper lip as she nodded. “It just seems as if every time I think I’ve managed to let go of my anger, I realize I’ll probably always be angry at Dennis. Not because of what he did to me, but because of what he continues to do to my kids.”

“Your kids are going to be just fine,” Lois insisted. “They’re bright, well-adjusted, and happy—and that’s because of you, not Dennis. So put him out of your mind. He’s not worthy of your thoughts—not even the nasty ones,” she said, grinning.

Frannie didn’t return the smile, prompting Lois to ask, “Hey, you’re not going to let this spoil our evening, are you?”

She shook her head, although the enthusiasm she’d felt earlier had waned. “I do wish Alex had shown me the poster himself.”

“I think he wanted to test the waters with me first,” Lois remarked. “And I’m glad he did. That poster has your phone number on it.”

Frannie groaned. “Tell me that doesn’t mean I’m going to have creeps calling my house in the middle of the night.”

“You won’t,” Lois stated confidently. “I suggested Alex use one of my office numbers, instead. I told him it was much safer to do that, and he said he’d have Josh redo the posters.”

“Thank you. That means that if by some strange twist of fate someone does call with information, you’ll be the first to know and you can tell me.”

“He’s not going to hear anything.”

Frannie hoped her sister was right. It had been a long, painful struggle, but she’d put her life back together after Dennis had done his best to ruin it. She’d made a good life for her children, and she wasn’t about to let him disrupt it again.

For the rest of the taxi ride, Lois talked about the place where they were meeting several of their friends. It was a new club that had become popular among singles. Frannie listened and made appropriate responses, but her thoughts weren’t on the evening ahead. She stared out the window at the passing scenery, watching trees and houses and storefronts disappear in a blur and thinking how her life with Dennis had been like a car ride.

They’d started a journey together and reached a destination, but everything in between had been of little consequence. All the places they’d been, the things they’d seen were gone, just like the passing scenery. There was nothing memorable about that journey—except for the children—and that was the part of the ride Dennis wanted to forget.

“This is it.” Lois’s announcement interrupted her musings. The taxi stopped in front of an old brick building in the warehouse district. The only indication there was a club inside was the line of people waiting to gain admission. “Come on. We need to find Shannon and Misti.”

Frannie wasn’t sure how they’d find the other two women in the crowd, but she was glad when they did; being with her women friends was exactly what she needed to push all thoughts of Dennis Harper out of her mind. They moved from club to club, each one a little bit noisier than the previous one, all of them perfect backdrops for the laughter they shared. It felt good to have fun, and when it was time to go home, not even fatigue could stop Frannie from wishing the night wasn’t over.

Their final stop was a twenty-four hour deli where they ate chocolate desserts and rehashed the encounters they’d had that evening. Frannie couldn’t remember when she’d laughed so much, and made a promise that she wasn’t going to let so much time pass before she went out with them again.

She and Lois were both grateful they had Lenny to drive them home. After saying good-night to her sister, Frannie dragged her feet up the walk to the front door. She paid the baby-sitter, then stood on the front porch until the teen was safely in the house next door.

Then she went inside the place that had been home for the past five years. A quick peek into Emma’s room assured her the little girl was asleep. Next she went to the boys’ room and poked her head in to make sure everything was all right. She was about to leave when she remembered the posters. Unable to resist, she tiptoed over to the desk and opened the top drawer.

A small night-light in the shape of a baseball was just strong enough for her to see the stack of flyers. In the near darkness, Dennis’s face stared up at her. She squeezed her eyes shut and didn’t open them again until she’d pushed the drawer shut. Angry for letting her curiosity get the better of her, she quietly left the room.

Later, as she lay in bed, all thoughts of her night out with the girls had vanished. There was only one thing on her mind: Alex’s deadbeat father.

“MOM, LUKE’S BEEN MESSING with my baseball cards again,” Alex cried out in frustration as he stormed into the kitchen, his faux-leather album spread wide so she could see the empty pockets.

“No, I didn’t,” the three-year-old denied.

“Yes, you did,” Alex said, then turned back to his mother.

“I told you to keep them out of his reach,” Frannie said absently, her attention on the negatives she held up to the light.

“They were out of reach,” Alex said in exasperation. “I had them on top of the dresser, but he’s like a monkey, climbing all over the place. You either need to put him in a cage or give me my own room.”

She clicked her tongue in reprobation. “He’s not a monkey, he’s your brother—he doesn’t belong in a cage. And you know you can’t have your own room.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Watch all my stuff get ruined?”

“They’re only dumb old trading cards,” Emma said, standing at the counter buttering her toast.

He shot her a look of disdain. “Go ahead and call them dumb. They’re gonna be worth a lot of money someday.”

Emma grunted in disbelief.

“They are! Trading cards are big business. I heard a guy got a thousand dollars for a Cal Ripken.”

Frannie raised one eyebrow. “Do you have a Cal Ripken?”

“No, but some of my cards will be worth something someday if they’re not all wrecked. Mom, you’ve got to do something. He’s always into everything…my homework, my cards…everything. Can’t I please have my own room?”

“That would mean putting Luke in with Emma,” Frannie said, telling him with her tone what a bad idea that was.

“He can’t. He’s not a girl,” Emma said.

“It’s not fair,” Alex said, slamming his album down on the table. “Luke’s a monster.” It was a comment that caused the three-year-old to chuckle with delight.

“It’s just a stage he’s in,” Frannie said consolingly. “It won’t be long before you’re the best of friends.”

Alex made a sound of disbelief.

“You should read Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, ” Emma suggested. “Peter has the same problem with his brother Fudge that you have with Luke.”

“I don’t want to read a book. I want my cards,” Alex demanded.

“Luke, did you take your brother’s baseball cards?” Frannie asked.

Luke giggled again, then ran from the room. When he returned, he clutched two trading cards in his fists. Alex grabbed them from him.

“Books are make-believe,” Alex said to Emma. “This isn’t.” He held up two dog-eared cards for their inspection. “Look! Chuck Knoblauch and Derek Jeter ruined!”

He grabbed his album and was about to stamp out of the kitchen, when Frannie said, “Alex, I’d like to talk to you after you’ve had breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well, when you are hungry, let me know. I’ll make you some pancakes and you and I will have a heart-to-heart.”

Alex grunted, then slipped out of the kitchen. As he left, Emma called out, “If you want my Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, I’ll loan it to you.”

Frannie didn’t think Alex wanted anything but to be left alone. When Luke would have followed him, she grabbed him by the waist and set him on a chair. “Time to eat.”

“He’s mad, you know,” Emma commented.

“He just needs some time alone,” she told her daughter, but she knew that as soon as she’d fed Luke, she’d see if there wasn’t something else she could do for Alex.

ALEX HEARD HIS SISTER’S VOICE echo through the hallway as he headed for his room. He didn’t care if Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing was the best book in the whole wide world. He didn’t want to read about some kid named Peter who had a little brother who messed with his things.

It was bad enough that he had a little brother who messed with his things. And the title of his sister’s favorite book was enough to make him want to bury it at the bottom of his closet. Why would anyone want to read about a kid who thought he was a nothing?

If the title was Tales of a Fourth Grade Somebody, he might read the book, but a fourth grade nothing? No way. He already felt like a big fat nothing when he thought about his dad.

There was knock on his door, and then Alex heard his mother’s voice: “Can I come in?”

He knew she wouldn’t go away until he said yes. Mothers never did. “All right,” he mumbled.

She came in and closed the door behind her, then sat down next to him on the bed. “I’m sorry Luke ruined your cards. Can I buy you new ones?”

He shrugged. “If you can find them.”

“I saw in the paper there’s a trading card show next weekend at the junior high. Would you like to go?”

“You’ll take me?”

“If you want. And you could bring Josh, too.”

“All right.”

“Alex, there’s something else I want to talk about with you.” He could tell by the look on her face that it was serious. “Lois told me you’ve made up the posters you hope will help you find your father.”

He’d figured his aunt would tell her, so he went over to his desk and pulled open a drawer. He removed a single sheet of paper and showed it to her. “Are you mad?”

He thought it was probably a dumb question. She’d already told him a while back that she didn’t think the poster was a good idea.

“You call him a deadbeat.” Her voice was quiet, not angry.

“Because he is. You don’t need to pretend with me, Mom. I heard you and Auntie Lois talking. I know he’s a deadbeat.”

“Then, why look for him?”

“To make him pay. He owes you money. It’s not right that you have to work so much just to pay the bills he should be looking after.”

She slid her arm around his shoulder and squeezed him. “It’s sweet of you to worry about me, but I can take care of the four of us just fine. Are you sure there isn’t another reason why you want to find him?”

“Like what?”

“Maybe you think there’s a possibility that when you find him, things will be different. That your father will want to be a father again.”

“No! That’s not it. I’m not doing this for me, Mom. I told you that. It’s for you and Emma and Luke.”

She gave him another squeeze and said, “Oh, Alex. You really are a very special boy.”

He wanted to believe her. And most of the time he did, but there were those times when he had his doubts. “If I’m so special, why did dad leave?”

As soon as he’d asked the question, he wished he hadn’t, because his mom’s eyes got all watery.

Then she pulled him even closer to her, resting her chin on his head as she said, “It’s nothing you or Emma or Luke did. Your father left because he was missing something inside himself. And it was a big something. It was what tells us that the greatest treasure anyone can ever have is a family to love. So don’t ever think you aren’t special. You were just unfortunate to have a father who wasn’t smart enough to recognize what special is.”

This time she didn’t just give him a hug, but a kiss, too. Right on his forehead. Then she said, “Now how about coming out and letting me make you some pancakes?”

He was hungry. “Oh, all right.” He tried to make it sound as if he really didn’t care about breakfast.

Before they could cross the living room into the kitchen, the doorbell rang. Emma raced to the front window to push aside the curtains so she could see who was standing on the step.

With a screech she cried out, “Oh, my gosh! It’s Gramma!”

CHAPTER TWO

WHAT FRANNIE DIDN’T NEED today of all days was to have her former mother-in-law drop in. “This is a surprise,” she said, although it really shouldn’t have caught her off guard. After all, Arlene Harper had a way of showing up when she was least expected. If there was one word Frannie would use to describe Arlene, it was unpredictable.

“Did you take a taxi from the airport?”

“Oh, I didn’t fly,” Arlene answered. “I drove.”

“By yourself? Where’s Harry?”

Harry was Arlene’s fiancé—or at least he was the last time Frannie had seen her. She glanced at Arlene’s left hand and saw the ring finger was bare. It looked as if Harry had gone the way of the rest of the men in Arlene’s life.

“I’m afraid that didn’t work out.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Frannie said, although she really should have told Arlene how lucky she was to be rid of the moocher. From the very first time Frannie had met Harry she’d had her suspicions that he was all charm and no substance. But then, in the eleven years she’d known Arlene, that’s all there had been in her mother-in-law’s life—men with charm but little substance.

Arlene’s next words indicated that she’d finally figured out Harry, too. “It’s for the best. He wasn’t the man for me,” Arlene said without any bitterness. “He thought work was for other people. But let’s not waste our time talking about me. I want to hear what’s been happening to my beautiful grandchildren,” she said, wrapping her arms around Luke and Emma.

“As you can see, they’re fine,” Frannie answered.

“We only have one more week of school and then we’re on summer vacation,” Emma stated joyfully.

“I know. That’s why I came. I want to spend lots of time with you this summer.”

Frannie gulped. “You’re staying for the summer?”

“This is going to be so cool,” Emma gushed, giving her grandmother another hug.

“Yes, it is,” Arlene agreed with a smile. “You won’t have to have a baby-sitter while your mother’s at work.”

As much as she appreciated Arlene’s offer, the thought of her mother-in-law staying with them in a house that was already too small did not put the glee in her eyes that it did in her children’s.

“It’s very generous of you to offer, but I’ve already contracted for day care,” she said, trying not to sound ungracious.

Alex, who’d been standing in the background, stepped forward. “We hate going to day care. It’s all little kids. Why can’t Gramma take care of us?”

“Because it’ll cost me money if we back out now,” Frannie explained.

“But it’s going to cost you money anyway, right?” Arlene asked.

“Can’t we please stay home with Gramma?” Emma begged, giving her mother a look that was just as dramatic as her plea.

“What about summer camp? The bus is supposed to pick you up at the day care center,” Frannie reminded them.

“That’s not until August,” Alex answered.

“Oh, by then I’ll be gone,” Arlene told them.

Frannie hoped no one heard her sigh of relief.

Emma’s face dropped. “I thought you said you were staying the whole summer.”

“Just for part of the summer, dear. But I will be here all of June and part of July.”

“What about your job?” Frannie asked.

“Oh, I quit,” she said with a flap of her hand.

“You quit?”

“Yes. Don’t look so alarmed, Frannie. I’ll find another,” she said nonchalantly, then turned to the twins and said, “Wait until you see what I brought for you.”

“Did you bring us cards with the holes in them?” Alex asked, moving closer to the couch.

“I most certainly did,” Arlene said proudly. “Two decks for each of you.”

“And the teeny bottles of shampoo and lotion?” Emma wanted to know.

Arlene nodded. “They smell just heavenly. Wait until you see.”

Because she worked as a cashier at a hotel casino in Atlantic City, Arlene often brought playing cards as well as complimentary bottles of lotion and shampoo.

Her glance moved between Emma and Alex. “Now, what should we do today? Gramma wants to take you someplace fun.” Arlene looked at Frannie and asked, “You don’t have plans for today, do you?”

“Actually, I do.” She was assigned to cover a charity walk-a-thon. She’d planned to put Luke in the stroller and let Emma and Alex push him, as they walked with the rest of the participants and she took photos.

Alex groaned. “We don’t have to go to that, do we?”

“Go where?” Emma asked.

“Some stupid walk-a-thon,” Alex answered.

“It’s not stupid. It’s for a good cause,” Frannie chastised him.

“We can always do something tomorrow,” Arlene suggested, which provoked groans from the twins. Then she looked at Frannie and said, “Or I could take the children today and then you’d be free to concentrate on your work.”

It was a tempting offer. The children would be a distraction while she tried to work. On the other hand, Frannie knew her children could be a handful, especially Luke. The memory of her son throwing a temper tantrum the last time she’d had him at the mall made her hesitate. As much as Frannie wanted to say yes, she wasn’t sure she could do so with a clear conscience.

Finally, after much cajoling by the twins, she agreed to let them stay with their grandmother, but extracted the promise that they would help their grandmother with Luke. They also needed to complete their Saturday chores, which would give Arlene a chance to rest before their adventure.

Alex didn’t protest the later start. “That means I can go over to Josh’s and get my posters done.”

That raised his grandmother’s curiosity. “What posters are those?”

“I’ll show you,” he answered, then disappeared into his room.

Frannie thought about stopping him, but knew it would only be a matter of time until Arlene found out about his campaign to find his father. When Alex returned with the flyer, he held it up for his grand-mother’s inspection.

“I’m trying to find my dad. Me and my friend Josh made this, but I have to change the phone number. That’s why I have to go to his house. He has a computer,” he explained.

Arlene looked first at the poster, then at Frannie, her eyes filled with questions. Frannie didn’t know how to answer them, so she simply lifted her brows and shrugged.

“I’m going to put them up all over Minneapolis, and some of my friends are going to take them when they go on vacation this summer,” Alex continued. “Will you take some back to Atlantic City with you, Gramma?” He looked at his grandmother expectantly.

Arlene placed her hand on his shoulder. “If it’s important to you, of course I will, but I don’t know if it will do any good. I doubt he’s anywhere close. If your father were living near me, he’d call.”

“But there are lots of people who come to the casinos and hotels. Maybe a tourist will see the poster and recognize his picture,” Alex argued.

Frannie could see how unsettling it was for Arlene to have such a discussion with her grandson, and decided to change the subject. “Okay, kids, get your chores done.”

That got Alex to table the discussion of his missing father. Frannie knew, however, it was a subject that wouldn’t be left for long. Sooner or later she and Arlene would have to talk about Dennis’s disappearance and Alex’s quest.

That’s why she wasn’t surprised when later that evening, after the kids had gone to bed, Arlene joined her in the kitchen. Frannie offered to make her a cup of tea, but the older woman said she just wanted to sit for a bit and talk.

Seeing her yawn Frannie said, “The kids can wear you out, can’t they.”

“It’s a nice kind of tired. Alex, Emma and Luke are good kids, Frannie. You’re doing a fine job with them,” she said, taking a seat at the table where Frannie sat folding the laundry.

Frannie smoothed the wrinkles out of a small undershirt. “Thank you, Arlene. I do my best.”

“I know you do. And it shows. Of course, Luke does have quite a temper,” she remarked.

Frannie gave her a smile. “He had a tantrum?”

“I didn’t know kids could arch their backs that way,” she reflected with a weary chuckle.

Frannie grimaced. “I’m sorry if he was a handful.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m a mother, too. I know what kids are like.” She picked up one of Luke’s socks that had fallen out of Frannie’s basket. “I’d forgotten how tiny they make these things.”

Frannie smiled in understanding and continued to fold the clothes. “I appreciate your help with the kids today. They didn’t want to go to the walk-a-thon.”

“And you shouldn’t have to take them with you when you work,” Arlene said as she reached inside the laundry basket for the matching sock.

“Most of my assignments are during the week, and I can drop the kids off at day care if necessary, but on weekends I have to rely on the girl next door. When she’s busy, it means I either have to find someone to cover for me at the paper or bring the kids along.”

“That can’t be easy,” Arlene commented, adding the pair of folded socks to Frannie’s pile.

“No,” she said. “That’s why I’m grateful for what you did today.”

Arlene blew off Frannie’s gratitude with a wave of her hand. “It was nothing. Actually, I’m the one who should be thanking you. You’ve always made me feel welcome here, Frannie, despite everything that’s happened.”

“That’s because you are welcome here,” Frannie said sincerely.

“Thank you. It’s nice to hear you say that, especially when I know you wouldn’t say it if you didn’t mean it. I hope you don’t mind that I want to spend some time here with the children.”

Frannie wasn’t sure how she felt about it, but she didn’t admit her uncertainty. “You said you quit your job?”

“Yes. I wanted to see what it would be like to be footloose and fancy free.” She smiled reflectively. “I discovered I like it. Now I know why women marry money.”

“Money isn’t everything.” Frannie recited the familiar refrain she’d used hundreds—maybe thousands—of times in the past few years.

“No, but it makes life a bit less stressful,” Arlene said.

“Is that why you’re looking so relaxed? Because you’ve come into some money?”

A self-satisfied grin spread Arlene’s lips. “I’m here because I’ve had some very good luck recently and I want to share it with you and the children.”

“What kind of luck?”

“Do you remember me talking about Martha Ball?”

“That sweet little old lady who lives down the hall from you?”

Arlene nodded. “I used to pick up her groceries for her, take her to the beauty shop once a week…you know, those kinds of things. She had such bad arthritis that it was difficult for her to get around.”

“Had?”

A sadness came into Arlene’s eyes. “She passed away a couple of months ago.”

Frannie placed a hand on Arlene’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I know you were fond of her.”

“Yes, she was a dear. And a bit of a gambler. She used to look forward to me coming over so we could play penny-ante poker.” Arlene shook her head, a nostalgic twinkle in her eye. “All those years we played for pennies…I had no idea how much she was actually worth.”

“She had a lot of money?”

“Oh, yes, and no family to share it with. That’s why when she died she left everything to the people she said had been the kindest to her.”

“And you were one of them?”

Again she nodded. “There weren’t many people who took the time to visit her. Just a handful of us who stopped in to play cards. None of us expected to get anything. Heck, we all thought she was one step from poverty. We’d often let her win just to give her a few extra bucks.” She chuckled at the memory.

“Then it must have come as a surprise to learn you had an inheritance.”

“Oh, my goodness, yes! I had no idea she had money in the bank. Every month when I’d help her write out her checks to pay the bills, there barely seemed enough for her to get by. She would say she had a little bit put away for a rainy day—which I thought meant thousands, not hundreds of thousands.”

“Hundreds of thousands?” Frannie’s eyes widened.

“You can imagine my shock. I’ve lived payday to payday my entire life.”

“Most of us do,” she said soberly.

“You shouldn’t have to.”

Frannie really didn’t want to be having this conversation with her ex-mother-in-law because she knew where it was leading. And she didn’t want to talk about her ex-husband.

Arlene, however, would not be swayed. “I want to give some of this money to you and the kids…you know, to try to make up for what Dennis hasn’t done.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Frannie began, only to have the other woman cut her short.

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. What good is inheriting money if you can’t share it with the ones you love?”

It was a very generous gesture, yet Frannie couldn’t let her do it. She knew that Arlene had worked hard all her life and had very little to show for it. Forever bailing Dennis out of trouble, she’d never hesitated to spend her money to help her son. Now she wanted to give away what could be her retirement nest egg because of obligations he’d failed to meet.

“If you want to put a little money aside for college for the kids, that’s fine, but you don’t need to help us out, Arlene. We’re doing all right.” It wasn’t exactly the truth. Frannie was tired of there never being enough money, but she also knew that until she no longer had the expense of day care, she’d continue to scramble for money.

Arlene’s face fell. “You don’t want my help?”

“You shouldn’t have to sacrifice your future because of Dennis’s irresponsible behavior. That money should be used for your retirement, not for raising your grandchildren.” Frannie didn’t like the awkwardness that the subject of money had introduced into their conversation. “Look, I think it’s best that we don’t talk about Dennis.”

“No, you’re probably right,” Arlene agreed. “It’s how we’ve managed to stay friends, isn’t it? By not talking about him?”

Frannie knew there was no need for her to answer.

“I just have one question,” Arlene said.

Reluctantly, Frannie asked, “About Dennis?”

She nodded. “Do you think there’s any chance that Alex’s posters might succeed in finding him?”

Frannie shook her head. “We’ve hired private investigators who haven’t been able to come up with any leads.”

“That’s true.”

“And if Dennis was going to contact anyone, it would be you.”

“I don’t think so, not after I threatened to turn him in to the authorities.” Arlene sighed. “I’m not proud to call him my son, Frannie. You ought to know that. And it hurts me to see Alex struggling with all of this. If there was some way I could make that son of mine behave like a man, I would have done it by now.”

Frannie felt a rush of sympathy for the older woman. She could imagine how painful it would be to be estranged from one of her children. “I don’t think we should be talking about this, Arlene.”

She nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Frannie.”

“It’s all right. He’s still your son, Arlene, no matter what happens.”

“And the father of Alex, Emma and Luke,” her ex-mother-in-law added.

As much as Frannie wanted to argue that Dennis had given up the right to be a father, she knew it would be wise to say nothing. If Arlene planned to stay for part of the summer, Frannie needed to keep a tight rein on her feelings about Dennis.

And she would. For her children’s sake.

“IT’S WORKING OUT BETTER than I thought it would,” Alex told Josh the following Monday on their way to school. “Now that my gramma’s staying with us, I won’t have to go to day care next week when school’s out. And you know what that means.”

“You’ll be home to answer the phone when someone calls with information about your dad,” Josh supplied. “Aren’t you worried your mom’s gonna get mad when she finds out you left your phone number on the flyers?”

“Only on half of them. The ones I put up around here all have my aunt’s office number on them.” He kicked a rock in his path and it went rolling across the street.

“You think your aunt will tell you if someone calls about your dad?”

“I’m not sure. She says it’s better for society if deadbeats like him drop out…at least, that’s what I heard her tell my mom one night when they didn’t know I was listening.”

“Hey, I heard Jamie Richards is going camping in the Boundary Waters as soon as school’s out. You should have him put some posters up there.”

“Good idea. And Angela Martin is going to the Wisconsin Dells.”

“You asked her?” Josh wrinkled his nose in disgust. “She’s a dork.”

“It doesn’t matter. She said she’d take my posters with her.”

“How many out-of-town ones does that make?”

“Seventeen. Before summer’s over, my posters will be all over the country.”

“Cool. I bet you’re going to find him.”

“Maybe” was all Alex said, remembering all the times he’d heard his mom and his aunt discuss his father. He knew it wasn’t easy finding a deadbeat.

TRUE TO HER WORD, Arlene did her best not to mention her son’s name during her stay. Alex, however, asked every day if his auntie Lois had called with any information. And each day Frannie would give him the same response. No, not yet.

As days turned into weeks and there were still no leads as to Dennis’s whereabouts, Frannie expected Alex to become discouraged. He didn’t. He just kept sending the posters with his friends as they left on vacation.

Frannie viewed Arlene’s presence as a mixed blessing. It was wonderful to see how warm and loving she was with her grandchildren, but it also made Frannie realize how much easier her life would be with another person sharing the responsibilities of child rearing. Having another adult in the house meant Frannie actually had some time to herself, and she discovered she liked it.

When she expressed this sentiment to her sister as they lunched at an outdoor café, Lois said, “You sure don’t sound like the same woman who only a few weeks ago was bemoaning the fact that her ex’s mother would be a houseguest for the summer.”

Frannie took a sip of her iced tea. “I did have my apprehensions at first, but it’s worked out remarkably well. I’m actually going to hate to see her go, even if she does occasionally get on my nerves.”

“When does she leave?”

“Next week. She’s going out to California for her high school reunion, where she’s meeting up with some friends. Then they’re all going on a road trip.”

“A road trip?”

Frannie nodded. “Apparently they want to see the western part of the United States, go to some of the national parks, stop in and see friends along the way. You know Arlene—she has friends all over the country. I suppose it’ll be months before we hear from her again.”

“Do you think she’d ever consider moving here?” Lois asked as she stuck her fork into her salad.

Frannie shook her head. “I don’t know. She has wanderlust. It’s why she moves so often—and why she didn’t mind life in the military.”

“She must have family.”

Frannie reached for her napkin. “A couple of older sisters and some cousins.”

“What about the Harper side?”

She shook her head. “Never talks about them. Dennis never did, either.”

“There’s probably a good reason why they didn’t.”

Frannie shrugged. “All I know is that it’s been good for the kids to have a grandmother around. They’re going to miss Arlene.”

“By the end of the year Mom will be back,” Lois remarked.

“We hope.”

Lois frowned. “Why wouldn’t she be back? Richard’s contract was only to work overseas one year.”

“That’s true, but the last time I talked to Mom, she told me Richard was doing such a terrific job that the company was thinking about extending their stay.”

“Mom’s not going to like that.”

“I’m not so sure. Obviously it’s a great opportunity for them. I mean, what Minnesotan wouldn’t want two years working in a warm climate with beautiful sand beaches?”

“But she misses her grandkids.” Lois took one last sip of her iced tea, then reached for the check. “I’d better get back to the office. Oh, one other thing I should mention. We did get a call in response to one of Alex’s posters.”

Frannie’s heart skipped a beat. “And?”

“It wasn’t legit. Some kid thinking it was funny to place the call.”

Frannie breathed a relieved sigh. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. Caller ID told us it was a call placed in South Minneapolis, not Los Angeles, which is where the kid said he was. Technology can be such a timesaver, can’t it?”

ARLENE’S DEPARTURE was a solemn occasion at the Harper house. Frannie, Alex, Emma and Luke all waved at her as she pulled out of the driveway in her shiny new minivan. Frannie understood the reason for her children’s tears. Even she had to choke back sadness as she said goodbye.

Seeing their faces as Arlene’s van disappeared from sight, Frannie was grateful that there was a summer arts festival going on in a nearby park. It would give them something to take their minds off their grandmother’s absence. As well as arts and crafts, there were street vendors and musical entertainment with a small outdoor stage production.

While she was putting together a picnic lunch for them to take along, the phone rang. She heard Alex call out that he’d answer it. A few minutes later, he came bursting into the kitchen, his eyes wide. In his fist was a slip of paper.

“I got it!”

“Got what?” Frannie asked, as he stood wiggling before her.

“I got the name of the place Dad is!” Frannie was stunned. After six weeks of getting no responses to Alex’s posters, she’d assumed that nothing would come of his efforts.

“Was that Auntie Lois?” she asked weakly.

He shook his head. “Uh-uh. It was some lady. She gave me her name but I didn’t write it down. I think it was Margaret or something with an M…” He trailed off, his face showing his bewilderment.

Frannie took the piece of paper from his hands. On it Alex had printed, “Gran Moray. North Shore. Fishing. Nice, helpful.”

When she didn’t say anything, he added, “It’s where Dad is…in Gran Moray.”

Gran Moray had to be Alex’s spelling of Grand Marais, the small Minnesota town located on the North Shore of Lake Superior. Frannie’s heart hammered relentlessly in her chest.

“The lady said she saw someone who looks just like Dad when they were fishing in one of the streams,” Alex continued. “They talked to him and everything.”

It couldn’t be, Frannie told herself, taking several calming breaths. “Your father doesn’t like to fish,” she told him. “And you heard your grandmother say that she doesn’t think he’s living nearby. It’s not him,” she said with a confidence she wasn’t feeling.

“How do you know? This lady said he looked just like the guy on the poster. It could be him, Mom. It could be.” There was a plea in her son’s voice that tore at Frannie’s heart.

“I’m going to call Lois and see what she thinks.” Frannie started to walk out of the room, but Alex stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Auntie Lois doesn’t know about this.”

Frannie frowned. “What do you mean she doesn’t know? She must have given that woman our number…”

Guilt made his eyes dart back and forth nervously.

“Alex, you didn’t put up the posters with our phone number on it, did you?”

She could see by the look on his face, that was exactly what he’d done.

“Alex!”

“I wanted to be the one to get the calls, not Auntie Lois. He’s my father,” he said on a note of frustration.

Frannie pushed an errant curl away from her forehead. “Oh, good grief! Our phone number’s out there for all the world to see?”

“You don’t need to get upset. No one’s even called except for this one lady. And she was really nice, Mom.”

Again, pain knifed through Frannie’s heart. She could see how much Alex wanted this strange woman to be the connection to his father. She closed her eyes momentarily, trying to find the words to tell her son that the man this woman had seen couldn’t possibly be Dennis.

“It can’t be him, Alex,” she began.

“Why not?” he demanded.

Because I don’t want it to be. She pushed aside that thought and said, “I told you. Your father doesn’t know how to fish.”

“Maybe he learned.”

“He hates cold weather. Why would he live in northern Minnesota?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, but we need to go find out. Will you take me?”

Frannie stifled a groan. “I wish you’d let me talk to the woman who called and gave you this information.”

“She said she lives in Minneapolis.”

“You should have written down her phone number.”

“You can call her. All you have to do is press star sixty-nine, and you can get it.”

Frannie realized he was right. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Because she’d been too upset over the fact that there was even the tiniest of possibilities that the man spotted along the North Shore might be her ex-husband.

The woman who had phoned Alex was named Margaret, just as he’d said. She was also very nice and helpful, as he’d written on the slip of paper. Only, Frannie soon discovered that Alex hadn’t written those adjectives about the woman who’d phoned. They were the words Margaret had used to describe the man she’d seen at the North Shore.

As well as repeating what Alex had already told Frannie, the woman told her that this man didn’t seem like the type to abandon his kids. By the time the phone call ended, she had told Frannie enough about the man’s personality to convince her it couldn’t have been Dennis.

Frannie knew her ex-husband would have no patience for fishing or for helping a couple of senior citizens change a flat tire on their car—which is what the man had done for Margaret and her husband.

“Are we going to go there?” Alex asked as soon as she’d hung up the phone.

Frannie wanted to again say, “It’s not him,” but she stifled the words. “I’m going to call Lois and see what she thinks.”

Alex groaned. “Do you have to?”

“Yes.” Frannie dialed her sister’s number. As soon as she heard the voice-mail recording, she remembered that her sister was out of town for the weekend. “I forgot. She’s in Chicago and won’t be home until Tuesday.”

“What does that mean? That we have to wait for her to get back before we can do anything?” he asked, obviously hoping that the answer to his question wasn’t yes.

“There’s no point in driving all the way to the North Shore without first investigating whether the possibility exists that it is your father,” Frannie answered patiently. “If—and I say if—there’s a chance it is your father, then it’s up to the authorities to investigate, not us.”

“You mean we’re not going to go?”

Frannie tried not to let the devastation on his face tug on her emotions. It wasn’t easy.

“I’m sorry, but that’s my final word on the subject. We wait until we talk to Auntie Lois before we do anything,” she said firmly.

“Do what?” Emma asked as she entered the kitchen, backpack slung over her shoulder.

“It’s none of your business,” Alex said, stomping out of the room.

“What’s wrong with him? Aren’t we going to the arts festival?” Emma asked.

“Yes, we’re going. Just give me a few minutes,” Frannie replied. “Watch Luke for me, will you?”

Frannie found Alex in his room, lying on his stomach on his bed, his elbows supporting him as he played a video game.

“I know you’re disappointed, Alex, but you don’t need to take it out on Emma.” Her words were met with silence. “Get your stuff together and we’ll go to the arts festival at the park.”

“I don’t want to go,” he grumbled.

Frannie put her hands on her hips. “You wanted to earlier this morning.”

“I changed my mind.”

Frannie could see the stubborn set to his shoulders. If there was one thing she knew about Alex, it was that when he made up his mind about something, he didn’t change it. “Alex, I can’t leave you home alone.”

He sat up then and said, “I’m ten, not two. I’ll keep the door locked and won’t let anybody in. Satisfied?”

She wasn’t. She knew that some parents did leave their kids home alone for short periods of time, but she wasn’t one of them. She didn’t doubt that Alex would be fine on his own for a couple of hours, yet she wasn’t ready to set a precedent. If she left him today, then he’d want to stay home alone the next time she had to go somewhere that was of no interest to him.

“Come on, Mom. I’m almost eleven,” he pleaded. “I’m responsible. Didn’t I prove that to you that time you had the flu and I had to take care of Luke because you couldn’t get out of bed?”

“But I was still in the house.”

“You couldn’t even lift your head off the pillow,” he reminded her. “I did a good job taking care of everything. Even you said so. Please, let me try it just once,” he pleaded. “I won’t answer the door, and if the phone rings I won’t say you’re not here. I’ll say you can’t come to the phone, like I’m supposed to do.”

Frannie could feel her resolve weakening. She knew Alex wouldn’t enjoy the arts festival as much as Emma and Luke would. And then there was that look of devastation on his face when she’d told him they weren’t going to go looking for his father. It tugged at her heart in a way that made her fall back on emotion rather than logic.

“Please, Mom?” he begged. “Don’t make me go with you.”

The park was just at the end of the block, and if Alex did have a problem he could call on any one of the neighbors. Finally Frannie caved in. “All right, you can stay home.”

It was a decision that left her feeling uneasy, however, as she wandered later through the various exhibits. It was also the reason why, despite Luke and Emma’s groans of protest, she packed up their things as soon as they’d finished lunch.

A feeling of relief washed over her as she returned home and saw that the house looked exactly as it had when they’d left. The front door was still shut, the drapes closed, the yard empty of kids. Using her key, she let herself in and called out, “Alex, we’re home.”

When there was no answer, she repeated the call. Then Emma handed her a piece of paper. “I found this on the kitchen table.”

Frannie read the note written in her son’s handwriting: “Mom, I’m going to look for Dad. I’m taking the bus. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Alex.”

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