By Jacquelyn Mitchard
A poor twist of fate has left little Keefer orphaned yet now not undesirable. Devastated via his cherished sister's tragic loss of life, twenty-four-year-old bachelor Gordon McKenna assumes that he'll be entrusted with elevating his niece, whom he has grown super on the subject of over the few helpful months of Keefer's existence. however the kid's paternal grandparents have varied ideas—and a fierce criminal conflict ensues that may attempt the capability and barriers of kinfolk love many times . . . and nobody will emerge from it unscathed or unchanged. Jacquelyn Mitchard, whose strong, emotionally wealthy novels have gained resounding severe acclaim and a large, enthusiastic viewers all over the world, brings us a hovering, heartbreaking, and unforgettable story of affection and the bonds that unite us all.
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Stephanie. Gordon grabbed two fistfuls of the sheriff’s starched blue shirt and clung. And in a gesture Gordon would always think of as encompassing both a terrible intimacy and a terrible restraint, Dale Larsen reached up and lightly covered Gordon’s hands with his own huge, dry paws. “What we’ve got to do now is even harder, son,” he’d said. ” Larsen led him back up the bank, and the perceptions that came to Gordon were again those of a child. Gordon was glad that Dad would never see the ruin of his cherished 1957 Bel-Air convertible, a big-bodied Theory[001-112] 6/5/01 11:58 AM Page 6 6 JACQUELYN MITCHARD cream-colored dream with bright red seats, the honeymoon car, chosen in part, Mark McKenna once told his son—in a rare moment of blazing can-dor—for that big cushy backseat.
The limp, dampish bundle of Keefer, in her terry-cloth footie suit, placed between Gordon and the wall. ” “No, just a thing my sister . . my mom always said it to us, when we left for school. ” “Oh. Anyhow, are you . . can you get up, son? But take all the time you need. ” The big man, his eyes ringed and sad as a hound’s, was pouring sweat. ” “We should go see your folks, then. Ed Dean . . my deputy called your uncle Mike. ” Larsen drew a deep breath. “Gordon, you know I’m sorry from the bottom of my heart.
Well. Leave it alone, son. Just know, that there was nothing . . the medics tried. They got the jaws of life, and they were going in. But they were gone . ” Theory[001-112] 6/5/01 11:58 AM Page 7 A Theory of Relativity 7 “I know. ” “It had probably been hours. ” “They . . Ray and . . my sister . . left really early. I was over at my mom’s. Georgia put the baby in bed with me and said, ‘Kiss me, so you don’t . ’ Had he smelled of Georgia’s scent, the Sugar Cookie cologne they sold at the Soap Bubble?