Family by Design

by Callie Endicott

  How did Simon see friendship? He’d mentioned not having many friends, which could mean he saw friendship as transitory.

  It turned out they’d both parked in the Carthage garage and walked to the café, so they returned together, mostly in silence.

  They had finished devising a plan for Liv’ing Creations, but where they went from here was unknown.

  In the Carthage lobby, Rachel resolutely went to the elevator.

  “You don’t have to take it because of me,” Simon told her.

  “I’m not.” That wasn’t true, but she hadn’t wanted to remind him of her minor phobia. His disbelief when she’d said the past was over had made her do some soul-searching. Perhaps she hadn’t got over the accident and the failure of her marriage as well as she’d thought.

  Inside the elevator she pressed the button for the second floor. When the door opened she hurried out without a backward glance, which wasn’t easy. She might have chosen friendship over romance, but this was also the first time since her divorce that she’d been seriously drawn to a man. Not that it was an issue—Simon would have to be available, and he’d made it patently clear that he wasn’t.

  The scary part was knowing her heart was already teetering on the edge of falling in love with him.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ONCE SHE’D GOT HOME, Rachel tried to let go of her tension. Binx could sense when she was stressed and got skittish. She didn’t want to lose the progress she’d made with him. After all, this was one male it seemed safe to love wholeheartedly.

  “Have fun today?” she asked.

  He blinked and yawned, making her grin. It could take weeks or months for him to warm up, but she wasn’t going to lose patience. She didn’t doubt he was hungry for affection. He always managed to be in the same room with her and now faithfully slept on a corner of the bed.

  Rachel checked his food and gave him fresh water, then looked at the phone to see she had voice mail. She entered her code to play the message.

  “Oh, hi. It’s Gemma. I thought you’d be home. I’ll talk to you another time. Bye.”

  Hmm. Rachel rang her cell number back.

  “Rachel?” Gemma answered. “You didn’t need to call me. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

  “It’s no bother. Is your dad okay?”

  “Yeah, he’s fine. I’m in Victoria. I didn’t know it was so beautiful here. I mean, I heard it was, but until you’re here, it’s hard to imagine it could be so amazing.”

  Binx jumped on the couch and settled down a couple of feet away. “I love it there, too. Be sure to visit the Royal British Columbia Museum near the harbor. It’s terrific.”

  “I’ll put it on the list. Have you seen Livvie and Mr. Kessler lately? I feel bad about being away.”

  Rachel dangled a feather on a stick and Binx lazily batted at it. “There’s no reason to feel bad. You deserve your vacation.”

  A sigh came over the line. “That doesn’t stop me from worrying. Livvie has been having more nightmares than usual lately and doesn’t like going to her father because she thinks it upsets him.”

  Now Rachel was worried. “Does Simon know?”

  “She made me promise not to tell him. Um, by the way, what is your opinion of Matt Tupper? I’m still making up my mind.”

  Intriguing. A fishing expedition for information. Rachel kicked off her shoes and tucked her legs beneath her. “He seems to be a good guy. I also know what Kevin McClaskey told me about him. Kevin used to own the Moonlight Ventures building, and a long time ago he was my agent. Mostly I’ve heard Matt is extremely independent.”

  “No kidding.” The tone in Gemma’s voice spoke volumes. “He practically snarled when he thought I was avoiding words like look and see. But I wasn’t. The thing is, one minute he’s nice, and the next he’s...”

  “Impossible?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I know the feeling. Pure frustration, right?”

  Gemma giggled. “Are you having relationship troubles, too?”

  The question made Rachel bolt upright, startling Binx. “No more than usual.”

  Gemma laughed again. “I thought guys were hard to understand when I was in high school and now it’s worse. What else do you know about Matt?”

  “Let’s see, Kevin mentioned that he grew up over in Kirkland. He’s hugely talented, a whiz at all that electronic recording stuff. Some of the big recording companies would love to hire him, but he prefers being his own boss. Oh, and the driver who hit him was both under the influence and texting on his cell phone, which may be the reason Matt actively supports a teen education program for safe and sober driving. That’s the extent of my knowledge.”

  * * *

  UNDER THE INFLUENCE?

  A cold sensation went through Gemma. Was that why Matt had made such a sharp comment about her mother enabling her father to drink? It wasn’t anything she hadn’t thought herself a thousand times, but it was different for Matt. He’d been blinded by a drunk driver.

  “Gemma, are you there?” Rachel asked. “Is something wrong?”

  “I just... Well, my father is a heavy drinker. I was frustrated after an argument with my mom a few weeks ago and mentioned it to Matt. As far as I know, Dad doesn’t drink and drive, but...”

  “Matt can’t hold what happened to him against everyone he meets. He’ll be lonely, if nothing else.”

  “I suppose,” Gemma returned, trying to sound unconcerned. She’d gone from being worried about getting involved with a man who might become an alcoholic, to worried that the man she liked would resent her father’s history of alcohol abuse. But if Matt had a hang-up about it, why had he suggested they get a beer and a pizza together?

  To test her?

  “Matt also believes a lot of women couldn’t handle him being blind,” she admitted.

  “He brought the subject up?”

  “I wouldn’t have had the nerve to do it myself,” Gemma admitted. “But I made a joke about him being a man after my heart and he felt compelled to explain why I was wrong.”

  Rachel tsk-tsked. “It’s disappointing that he doesn’t have a sense of humor. Just remember, it’s his loss.”

  “Yeah. Well, I’d better let you go.”

  “Enjoy Victoria. I hope you can find a place to have an old-fashioned high tea. We used to go to a farm in the country where they served clotted cream with the scones, but I have no idea how to get there now, or if they’re open this time of year.”

  “I’ll ask around. Good night.”

  * * *

  “’NIGHT.”

  Rachel turned off the phone and tried to relax, but she couldn’t stop thinking that Matt had warned Gemma away just as Simon had warned her away. What was wrong with them? She knew Gemma well enough to know she hadn’t been talking to Matt about wanting to get married. As for Simon’s warnings? He might have backed off on the subject, but it was still annoying to think about. The only reason she’d told Simon about her own decision to avoid romance was because he’d brought it up first.

  Binx had retreated to the other end of the couch, and his watchful posture suggested he wasn’t coming closer in the immediate future. Casually ignoring him seemed best, so she got up to take a shower.

  The long, stone walk-in shower stall was one of the features that had sold her on the condo in the first place, but as she stood under the spray of water, she pictured the guest bathroom in her grandmother’s house. The last update had been over thirty years ago, but it had a warm, homey feel that this one, however nice, couldn’t replicate.

  You’re also living in the Carthage, instead of a country house, which is what you’d prefer.

  “Get out of my head, Simon,” she grumbled.

  She hadn’t expected him to guess so accurately how she felt about certain things.

  “Meerroow.”

 
; Rachel looked around and saw Binx at the shower opening. Cats never respected privacy. Rather than being upset about the fine droplets spattering in his direction, he appeared to be trying to catch them in his mouth.

  She turned off the water and walked out slowly so he’d have time to retreat if he wanted. Sure enough, he spun and raced away, though he seemed more playful than spooked. The wet paw prints he left behind suggested he’d ventured farther into the shower stall than she’d realized.

  The stone tile floor of the bathroom was heated, a feature she loved, even if it wasn’t the same as the one in her grandmother’s house. As a kid her toes had frozen in the winter when visiting Grandma. A brief midnight trip to the bathroom had meant shivering under the blankets for an hour after getting back into bed.

  She wrapped a towel around herself and yawned.

  It was barely 7:00 p.m., but she was tired, probably because Simon had been so annoying. She went to the bed and pulled the comforter down. Going to sleep early was a good idea since she wanted to get to the agency early to catch up on work. Consulting for Liv’ing Creations was eating into time for her other commitments.

  As for sending him a bill?

  Fine.

  She’d tracked her hours spent on the design firm, not counting the time with Livvie. Moonlight Venture’s contract with Simon had specified the consulting fee, so she’d have Chelsea create an invoice.

  Rachel dropped a silk nightshirt over her head and crawled between the sheets. Binx leaped up a minute later and stretched out within an arm’s length. Carefully she slid her hand over to rub the base of his ear. A low purr started.

  “You’re just a big softy at heart, aren’t you?” she whispered.

  He pressed his head against her fingers.

  “Do you think there’s going to be a storm tonight? That would be okay. Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, with us snug inside.”

  Binx purred louder and Rachel smiled sleepily. They could have turned the corner on trust.

  The Carthage walls and floors were too well insulated to hear much from outside or from neighbors...but it was easy to envision Simon on the floor above her. Was he watching television, pacing, working in his home office or just sitting out in the garden, missing Olivia? He might even be contemplating how to finally end his association with Moonlight Ventures.

  It was his choice.

  She’d done her best and he was the one who’d moved them into personal territory on more than one occasion. It was on his head if he had regrets.

  With that uneasy thought, she closed her eyes and let Binx’s purr lull her into sleep.

  * * *

  EVER SINCE THE last recording session with Gemma, Matt had felt like slime for what he’d said. Throwing her father’s drinking in her face had been a lousy thing to do. She’d trusted him enough to reveal something that troubled her, then he’d used it as a verbal weapon.

  And why?

  Because she’d said the kind of innocent, teasing thing that men and women said to each other.

  It would serve him right if she didn’t return to finish the novel they were recording. Foolishly he’d let the editor at the publishing house listen to a portion of Gemma’s recording. She’d got excited and said it would be fabulous to sell audio copies as well as the print version, provided terms could be agreed upon.

  It was an interesting proposition, but Matt’s first concern was to finish the recording for its original purpose.

  And apologize to Gemma.

  He didn’t know what had come over him. In the months after losing his sight, one of the hardest things had been thinking what would happen with women. It hadn’t been easy for a seventeen-year-old testosterone-driven kid to accept he’d never see a pretty girl again, or watch the mysterious, wonderful movements of their bodies. Now a woman could be drop-dead gorgeous and he’d have no way of knowing, aside from someone telling him.

  But the hardest adjustment had come when he realized people often felt sorry for him, or believed he needed help. It had galled him more than usual to think Gemma might feel that way.

  Saturday morning, he waited at the studio, tense, until a knock came at precisely 9:00 a.m.

  “Gemma?” he said, opening the door.

  “Were you expecting someone else?” Her tone was distinctly cool.

  “Not at all. But first, let me apologize for my behavior two weeks ago.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Irritation instantly swamped his good intentions. “Don’t treat me like that, Gemma. I’m blind, not stupid.”

  * * *

  GEMMA STARED.

  “Does everything come back to that for you?” she asked incredulously. “I was trying to get past the awkwardness of what happened by ignoring it, but you automatically attribute the courtesy to your being blind. I swear, you put people to the test and feel superior when they don’t respond the way you think they should.”

  Matt straightened. The truth had hit home. “That isn’t true.”

  “It sounds like it to me,” she said hotly. “I don’t deny that I’m not a very confident person. I’m working on it, but it’s hard to overcome a lifetime of being that way.”

  A funny smile played on his face. “You aren’t avoiding conflict now.”

  “Maybe I’m tired of not standing up for myself. For your information, it doesn’t matter to me that you can’t see. But it requires a different way of communicating and you aren’t making it any easier for me to figure things out. Maybe you should try seeing how it feels from someone else’s point of view, not just your own.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. Just talk to me.”

  “Well, you still use nonverbal communications such as smiling and gesturing with your hands while talking, but I forget you can’t see when I do that and it flusters me. Then you make assumptions that aren’t true and get huffy.”

  He didn’t say anything for a long minute. “I didn’t intend to make you uncomfortable. Maybe I react poorly, but I don’t get huffy. I just—”

  “I’m sorry you feel threatened by being called huffy,” Gemma shot back, amazed at her own daring. “If anything, huffy is the way a cat behaves when its dignity is ruffled. You remind me of a stalking cat that got startled.”

  Matt began to laugh, a full no-holds-barred laugh. “Okay, you win. I blew it up. How do I make amends?”

  Gemma wrinkled her nose, only to remember he couldn’t see the expression. “You could let me ask questions, without assuming I have a hang-up about your eyesight. Because I don’t. The hang-up is in your head, not mine.”

  “That seems fair. What do you want to know?”

  “For one, does it bother you that my father has a drinking problem? Rachel mentioned the driver who hit you was under the influence.”

  * * *

  MATT FROWNED. “Under the influence doesn’t necessarily mean alcohol. The man who ran into me and my friends was on strong prescription drugs and shouldn’t have been behind the wheel. Then he started texting someone.”

  “But you’re involved in a program to keep kids from drinking and driving.”

  “Because it’s a worthy cause,” he explained. “The thing with your father bothers me, though not for personal reasons. Your mother put pressure on you to keep him from drinking because she couldn’t do it herself. I don’t think that’s fair.”

  “Spinning my wheels about fairness isn’t going to get me anywhere. I used to wonder why I couldn’t have a father like my friends’, who didn’t drown his disappointment with whiskey. Now it sounds minor compared to what you’ve gone through. You must still be angry.”

  Matt was stunned. He didn’t know how many hours he’d chewed the accident over in his head, his brain racing through scenarios where he didn’t end up blind. The therapist had urged him to stop being angry and accept what had happened, but no one had just s
aid, It’s awful. You got a raw deal. It’s okay to be mad for a while.

  Now Gemma was saying what he’d felt for years.

  Pepper nudged his hand with her nose. He’d left her in the control room, but as usual, she’d followed and was worried about him. He didn’t know if the training facility would approve of her behavior, but he found it reassuring.

  “I’m trying to let go of being angry,” he admitted. “It’s easier than it used to be. Do you have other questions?”

  “Well, I know I should pretend Pepper isn’t there when she’s working, but is it ever acceptable to give her attention? I adore dogs. They don’t care if I’m shy, they give love, anyway.”

  A laugh rolled out of Matt’s chest and he removed Pepper’s harness. “It’s okay when she’s off duty, which means when the harness is off. Pepper, give Gemma some love,” he ordered, giving her a gesture with his hand.

  A moment later Gemma laughed and he heard her patting Pepper. “You’re such a sweet girl,” she murmured. “Beautiful, too. I’m sorry I don’t have any treats for you.”

  “I probably feed her more treats than she should get,” Matt admitted. “But we walk it off. Do you have anything else to ask?”

  “Not right now. It just... It would help if you didn’t get so touchy. Are you that way with everyone, or just me?”

  Ouch. Generally Matt had a good relationship with people at the studio or in social situations, but something about Gemma had got to him from the beginning. With her shyness, it must have been doubly difficult to be honest with him.

  “Mostly with you,” he admitted. “I liked you so much, I got my nose out of joint when I shouldn’t have. Can we start over?”