Paradise for a Sinner by Lynn Shurr Page A

suit and tie. He served the after school snacks as formally as a British high tea.
    Winnie took a seat under the striped umbrella. “What do we have here?”
    “Scones,” said Stacy. “Brinsley got them for us. We have currant, cranberry, and lemon. Would you care for one?”
    “I’d love it.”
    As Winnie seated herself, Dean shouted over the noise of the machinery, “Sissy food!”
    Stacy shot back, “Civilized food, you big lout.”
    The girl not only passed her entrance exams for the Episcopal day school but excelled to the point that the administrator suggested she be placed a grade ahead with her cousins. The twins and Xochi had not been thrilled by this development, but since the puppy had broken the ice on their relationship, they tolerated it. Now, they giggled over her calling their sometimes-overbearing big brother a lout. Clearly, they were enjoying their tea party and Stacy’s in-your-face reply to Dean.
    Xochi’s brown countenance warmed with a wide smile. “I’m beginning to like you, Stace.”
    Stacy leaned over and patted Titi curled at her feet. She coached the dog conversationally. “If Macho tries to roll you in the dirt again, you just bite his ankle.” Macho, locked out of the pool compound for putting his feet on the table, whined at the gate at the mention of his name. Stacy broke off a corner of a scone, fed it to Titi, and lobbed the rest over the fence to Macho who caught the treat in midair.
    The girl had bribery and dominance all figured out, Winnie thought, and wished she’d had half that much confidence at the age of nine. Maybe she would be a doctor by now instead of a divorced nurse.
    “More milk, anyone?” Brinsley asked. “Would you care for some iced tea, Nurse Green?”
    Winnie nodded. He filled one of the tall plastic glasses in tones of melon, green, and yellow that matched the umbrella for her first, then poured more milk into upraised cups. Taking a silver tray of scones to the men, he offered them around. Adam grabbed one of each flavor. Dean refused the offer, but the others picked up one each. Rather than nibble like the girls, they finished theirs in a few big bites.
    Trinity, on the end of the line next to Teddy, said, “Your wheelchair looks like fun.”
    “It can be, not always. I wish I could run.”
    “Can I try it out?”
    Although a twinge of anxiety crossed Teddy’s face, he said, “Go ahead.”
    Trin carefully wheeled himself around the perimeter of the pool. Getting out he said, “Harder than it looks. You must have strong arms.”
    “I sure do. I can race my wheelchair.”
    Mack, the biggest of the triplets, asked for a turn and took the chair for a spin. While he would not confess to needing any special strength to maneuver, he did admit racing the wheelchair would be fun. “Camp Love Letter has wheelchair races. I bet you could win.”
    Joe gave both his little boys a smile of approval that quickly turned into a frown when Dean forced his overgrown twelve-year old frame into the small chair without asking permission. The oldest Billodeaux boy, his chin nearly resting on his knees, pushed off with a mighty shove. Whether by accident or intention, the wheelchair sailed over the lip of the pool and sank into the deep end.
    Dean kicked free of it and sputtered to the surface. “Cold in here!” He stroked toward the edge and pulled himself out. The girls burst into laughter as he straggled from the water.
    “That was a dumb thing to do,” Stacy remarked without sympathy. She earned a small chorus of “yeahs” from the rest of the females.
    “For sure a dumb thing to do in February. Go into the pool house and get a towel,” his father directed.
    Teddy wobbled on his crutches and sat down hard on the ground. “My chair! I can’t go to school without my chair. What if it doesn’t work anymore? What if Dean broke it?”
    Dean stopped in the doorway of the pool house. “Oh, shut up, you wimp. Dad, my dad, will buy you a new one that isn’t