It was later than Justin had intended by the time he drove back to Del’s place. The afternoon was wearing on into dusk, the late light casting long shadows across the road, and Justin hoped that Wyatt and Scarlett hadn’t been too much for Del to handle for so long, and that Harper hadn’t been a monster after school. Not that he didn’t trust Del to manage—he was doing a hell of a better job with them than Justin was—it was just that Justin knew exactly how much of the day the kids could swallow up, and Del probably had stuff he needed to get done. He’d said something about writing a cookbook. Justin couldn’t even imagine what sort of work went into that, and how time consuming it might be.
He turned into Del’s driveway and pulled up near the house. He sat in the car for a moment, wondering
