The Summer We Believed (Denim Days #1)

Day 2 -- Duncan

We'd barely finished breakfast when Cody showed up at the door. "Dad needs you to come help him clean out the shed. He said we're taking some of the stuff to Florida."

"Tell him I'll be there in a little while. I'm talking with Mel and she made me breakfast."

"I'm not your messenger boy."

"No, you're Dad's messenger boy." I felt bad as soon as I said that. It wasn't Cody's fault that Dad had made a decision that was ruining my life. "Sorry. Look, tell him I have to help her do the dishes. It'd be rude not to."

"All right, but he's not in a good mood."

"It's fine," Mel said, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ears. "I got it." She picked up my plate and headed to the sink. "Want me to come help when I'm done?"

Cody took off and I stood to leave. "Nah. After lunch, let's go sailing." Mel liked that better than almost anything. Almost as much as I liked her pancakes.

She arched one eyebrow at me and it disappeared underneath her bangs. "Is your dad going to be okay with that?"

"I don't plan on wasting my last week up here in the shed." I headed out the screen door. "See ya. Wouldn't want to be ya." It was a stupid thing to say, but it was one of our inside jokes, like me asking her to come out and play.

As I walked toward the shed, I heard Mel yell through the screen. "I know, 'cause then you'd have to wear the wubbie." I grinned to myself.

In the shed, we sorted things into Stay, Go, and Florida piles out on the lawn. Mostly we avoided speaking to each other. About halfway into the shed I found some old pup tents and put them in the Stay pile.

"Those should go," Dad said.

I ignored him and kept sorting.

"I know you don't understand how I made this decision, Duncan."

Here it comes. A lecture and he's not talking about the pup tents.

"When you have a family of your own, you'll understand. This promotion will change the way we live."

No kidding.

"It's not just about the job. It's a lot more money." He tossed an old, moldy life jacket into the Go pile.

"I don't understand why I can't go to the U."

"I told you. They made tuition from an employee fund available to us—to you."

"At FAU, but Mom said I'll be applying to other schools because it'll give me a better chance for acceptance to med school."

"We still need to figure that out. There's plenty of time for that."

It sounded more and more like I had no say in this. I pulled a set of horseshoes from the back of a shelf. Do they even play horseshoes in Florida? I added them to the Stay pile.

Cody held up a new-in-the-box set of barbeque tools.

"Yeah, those are good to go to Florida," Dad said.

Too bad I couldn't throw myself into a pile.

Mel showed up at the shed about two o'clock. "I'm here to help," she said in a cheerful voice. I knew from experience she only used that voice around my Dad, and pain-in-the-ass teachers. She was wearing an old pair of jean shorts, the bottom frayed where she cut them off, and a highlighter green tank. She'd braided her hair into one long braid that hung down in front, almost to her waist, and was wearing a pair of her Dad's suede work gloves.