Jack Hammond was forty years of age, a successful businessman who'd made it big on the internet, and in doing so, had gone into business for himself, working out of his own home which saved him a lot on overhead. He was still considered attractive too, kept himself in reasonably good shape, working out during the day on his treadmill while on the phone doing business. With dark hair, just a touch of grey beginning at the temples, almost emerald green eyes, he'd had more than enough women take an interest in him.
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Saturday
I peered into the rearview mirror and saw the familiar VW logo of Jenna's Jetta. Not that I was worried about her finding her way. We'd been driving this route to the beach for over 15 of her 20 years, so she certainly knew the route. It was pretty much a straight shot from Columbia to Charleston on I-26 and then a short jog over to Isle of Palms. Nothing to it.
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About a half hour later Ann came out all dressed, purse and keys in hand ready to leave. I was surprised that she was leaving because normally she would just hang out till Chris came home and asked her hey what's up?
She was a bit shaky which IS NOT normal.
I'm going run some errands and will be back later.
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"It's a girl, Mom!" My son-in-law Zack chirped exuberantly through the phone. "It's a girl. You have a beautiful granddaughter."
Pressing my cell phone firmly to my ear, I couldn't believe how blank my mind had suddenly gone. Of all the things I thought I would say at this moment, I was at a complete loss for words and was finding it difficult to breathe.
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It was pouring rain as I pounded on the door to my best friend's house. The lights weren't on and her car wasn't in the driveway, but I was so enraged that I didn't care. I was about ready to give up on the door and just crash through the front window when the light in the front hall came on and the door flew open.
"What in the hell..." Ashley's dad looked furious until he saw me. His jaw dropped as he looked at me, and he was silent for a moment. "Nicole, what's going on?"
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Jade could hear her mother on the phone in the hall tearing a strip from Caitlyn's mother. She knew what it was about; it was the same thing that had got her sent to her room. Sent to her room at eighteen years old, treated like a child. And banned from ever seeing Caitlyn again, although even her mother must have realised that, at her age and with today's countless ways of communicating, the ban was pretty meaningless.
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