Page 82 of Singled Out

“Good to see you,” I said. “Is your dad with Addie tonight?” His daughter was four years old and full of energy.

“As usual,” Luke said. “He might not be able to help around the farm much anymore, but he’s the best grandpa known to man.”

“Family’s everything,” I said, meaning it. “Help yourself to a beer. What’s Samantha up to tonight?” I directed the question to Chance.

“She’s grounded. I’ll be checking her location to make sure she stays home. I wouldn’t put it past her to cause trouble expressly to ruin guys’ night.”

At fourteen, Samantha Cordova was living up to the stereotype of a difficult teenager and making the rest of us appreciate the tame-in-comparison challenges of younger kids.

Ben arrived next, carrying a large thermal travel cup I’d bet was full of some kind of health elixir. Without a word, he set a bottle of top-shelf whiskey on a side table, then sat down.

“Thanks,” I said, a little puzzled. “We’ll have a glass after we eat.” He gave a two-finger salute.

I’d put chips, guacamole, and salsa on the outdoor table, along with cut veggies and dip, mostly for our resident health-nut veterinarian. We four sat around the appetizers, digging in and listening to Luke’s dad’s latest medical challenges and Chance’s experience being summoned to the middle school principal’s office on behalf of his daughter.

“Compared to her, I was a model student,” Chance said, shaking his head.

Chance and I were about the same age, but he’d moved to Dragonfly Lake as an adult, so I couldn’t attest to what kind of kid he’d been.

“Being a teenager is hard,” Luke said. “We can try all we want to be everything our kids need, but I imagine being a girl without a mother figure makes it even harder.”

“I wonder if I could hire one,” Chance joked. “Wanted: mother figure for fourteen-year-old hellion. Pay sucks. Father not interested in relationship beyond sex.”

We laughed and drank to that just as West Aldridge rounded the house and headed toward us.

“There he is,” Chance bellowed.

“Welcome to the party terrace,” I said as he approached.

“Glad you made it,” Luke said.

West didn’t look particularly happy.

“Need a beer?” I asked.

“Got anything harder?” West didn’t smile, nor did he help himself to the drink cooler.

“You okay?” Ben asked him.

“Just about didn’t make it tonight,” West said.

I was due to put the steaks on the grill now that everyone who was expected had arrived, but I stayed put, curious.

“What’s going on?” Luke asked him.

West leaned forward, elbows on knees, and blew out a heavy breath. “April moved out two nights ago.”

“Oh, shit,” Chance said.

“What happened?” Luke asked.

I stood and dug a Lunker Stout out of the cooler, knowing it was West’s preferred beer, opened it, and handed it to him.

He took it without a word and downed a third of it while we all waited to hear more. He’d met April close to a year ago. She’d moved in with West and his three little girls not long after.

“We haven’t been getting along lately,” West said. “Arguing a lot. About stupid things, big things, you name it. She got sick of it. Said we were toxic, and our relationship was doing more harm than good.”

“I’m sorry, dude,” Chance said. “That sucks.”