by Ava Miles
Natalie cleared her throat and stood there awkwardly. The whole room was back to staring at her. “That’s…ah…all.”
Hell. That had felt worse than reciting the Declaration of Independence in a school talent competition in the third grade.
“Okay, people,” Jill called out. “Natalie’s said her piece. Let’s get back to the feast.”
The relief made her sway a little. Jill wove through the crowd and pulled her into a hug with the drooling Mia.
“Thanks, Jill,” she whispered.
“Hey! It’s okay. I remember how weird it felt when Brian came back from the Big Apple. And we didn’t even have a marriage behind us. If you need anything, I’ve got you.”
“You’re a life saver,” she said. Jill was quickly becoming her favorite family member. Why couldn’t everyone else be this supportive, this understanding?
“Can I be a green one?” her cousin quipped.
Though Natalie rolled her eyes, she couldn’t hold back a smile. Mia grabbed a hunk of her hair and shoved it in her mouth, which only made her smile grow broader. The baby was super sweet—all chubby cheeks and sparkling eyes. “Can I hold her?” she asked. If she was holding a baby, no one could talk serious to her, right?
“Sure,” Jill said immediately, transferring her into Natalie’s arms. “Brian has her twin in the kitchen. He and Terrance were running Jane through another blind wine tasting. I swear, that girl needs to be on a wine game show or something. She could win millions.”
Of course, Natalie’s future sister-in-law already had millions, and her ability to discern the winemaker and year of a French vintage by simply drinking a sip was a hobby. Or a skill. Natalie still wasn’t sure which.
“Hey, Sis,” Matt said as Jill wandered off. He kissed her cheek and squeezed her arm. “Ah…Andy and I went to see Blake.”
“Blake told me. Let’s not talk about it now.” Or ever. She’d rather talk about the new bumper sticker she’d slapped on his car, directly over the last one, in their ongoing Bumper Sticker War. This one said: I Pick My Nose, and I Like It. It seemed suitably unprofessional for the next mayor of Dare Valley.
He nodded. “I can respect that.” And then, with a smile, “I’m going to go have a good pick.”
Jane stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, baby and all. “We missed you at the lunch, but I totally understand why you weren’t there. What a shock it must have been to have Blake move in next door.”
“Blake always was full of surprises.”
“Well, if you need to talk to anyone, you can count on me.”
“Thanks, Jane.” Her future sister-in-law was a peach.
Danny finally ran over to her, and she awkwardly leaned down to hug him with her left arm, keeping Mia snuggled in her right. “Hey, kiddo.”
“Is Uncle Blake really back?” he asked with wide eyes. “And Touchdown too?”
By rights, five-year-old Danny shouldn’t even remember Blake, but his love for that sweet dog, along with the fact that Blake had been the quarterback of his favorite team, had stuck with him. Danny was a huge football fan, following in her family’s footsteps.
“It’s Mr. Cunningham now, Danny,” she said gently. “He’s not your uncle anymore.”
His mouth scrunched up like he was trying to remember why that was. “Oh, that’s right. Because you don’t live with him anymore.”
Simple logic, thanks to Andy. “Right.”
“Okay. Can you put Mia down so I can play with her? She likes my trucks.”
Her human shield gurgled as Danny tickled the exposed section of her tummy. How was she supposed to refuse such a request? She set Mia down, and the little girl immediately crawled to Danny.
“She’s trying to stand,” Danny said, putting his little arms around her to support her as she grabbed his legs.
Mia stood, sure enough, clutching Danny’s shirt, and wove in place in her pink ballerina slippers. Her grin was contagious.
“Hang onto her tight, Danny,” Andy said from behind her. “Little kids sometimes let go because they’re still learning.”
“I’ve got her, Dad,” Danny said, his arms gripping her now like he was holding a human hot potato.
“Hey, Sis,” Andy said in an easy tone, hugging her and kissing her on top of her head. “You’ve had quite a day.”
She could tell he wanted her to give Blake another chance, so she hadn’t known what to expect from him. His relaxed demeanor was enough to tumble at least one of her walls. “Yes,” she only replied.
“Come on, let’s grab you a drink, which you could probably use. Then we’ll make the rest of the rounds so you can eat.”
Like she could force any food into her churning stomach. But a drink sounded good. She looked around for her mother, but April Hale was nowhere in sight. Her mother loved Blake—always had. She’d even caught her wearing Blake’s Raiders jersey on a few game days. Her mom was probably biding her time, waiting to express her disapproval in private.
Terrance met them halfway to the kitchen, as if he’d been waiting for her and Andy to stop talking. Even though he was technically her boss, they were also good friends. At work she called him Chef T like everyone else, but outside of it, he was simply Terrance.
“Hey,” he said, bussing her cheek. “Sounds like you went nine rounds today. How about I make you a Manhattan? I brought my Luxardo cherries.”
All cherries were relatively equal, she’d once thought. Then Terrance had introduced her to Luxardo cherries. Like the name, they were exotic and magical and oh so good. She might have eaten half a jar one night—all by itself. “Andy was just talking about finding me a drink. Make it strong.”
He winked. “You got it.”
“I’m going to learn how the master makes a Manhattan,” her brother said, and the two headed into the kitchen together.
With no excuse to follow them, she made the rounds alone, hugging her increasingly pregnant cousin, Meredith, and kissing her hubby, Tanner, on the cheek. Terrance’s fiancé, Elizabeth, squeezed her hand and offered her a sweet consolation about men moving to Dare Valley with ideas. Hadn’t Terrance done the same with her?
Rhett, their crazy Southern transplant, lifted her off the ground, making her almost squeal like a little girl. “Sugar, you just say the word. I’ve heard tell that I’m the only one bigger and taller than your ex in this crowd. If I can’t bleed him dry at the poker table, I’ll call him out if he so much as makes a wrong move.”
“And I’ll hold his jacket,” his wife, Abbie, said, patting her small baby bump.
“Well, I’ll bring my shotgun,” Deputy Sheriff Peggy McBride said.
“And I’ll hold her jacket,” her husband, Mac Maven, said, giving her a wink. “My wife doesn’t mess around.”
She hugged all of them, even Mac, who was her big boss. As owner of The Grand Mountain Hotel and a number of other hotels, she worked technically for him even though Terrance was her daily supervisor and partner in crime, as he liked to call himself. When she went to work on Monday, she’d talk to Terrance and Mac about her agreement to cater Blake’s little party. It was something she wanted to do, even if her motivations made her a bit queasy. She knew they’d be fine with it, and she didn’t plan to say much more than that she was helping out a friend.
Moira and Caroline kept their distance, lingering across the room from her, and for that reason alone she could barely take a swallow of the Manhattan Terrance brought to her, Andy by his side, gushing about how ridiculously good the cherries were. It was funny to hear two grown men act so excited about cherries—as delicious as they were—but Natalie didn’t feel much like laughing when she saw her mother frowning at her from across the room.
“Drink up and go talk to her,” her brother said. “You’ll feel better.”
She wasn’t sure about that. The Manhattan wasn’t as delicious as usual since her taste buds seemed to have dried up, but it was strong. Fortifying. Deciding it was finally time to take her medicine, she left
the guys and headed over to where her mom was standing beside Uncle Arthur, who was sitting in one of Matt’s recliners.
He smacked his knee. “Save the best for last?” he quipped with an endearing grin.
Close to eighty, her great uncle was still witty and fun, not to mention one of her favorite people in the world. “Of course.” She leaned down to kiss his wrinkly cheek. “Even if you are a pesky journalist.”
“Just tell those national reporters ‘no comment,’ and if they press you, hang up on them. It’s their job to be pushy and nosy. I should know. That’s how I’ve trained my staff to be.” He laughed.
“Hi, Mom,” Natalie said awkwardly, daring a glance at her.
“Hey, honey,” she said and rose to hug her. “I’m glad you came. Why don’t we step outside for a breath of air?”
Her mom had never needed to step outside for air before, but the grip she gave Natalie’s hand warned her not to refuse. Torches flickered in the backyard around the patio. The ring of fire felt appropriate. She was the poor, sap of a lion about to be whipped by a lion tamer.
April Hale didn’t smile as she closed the door—she only gazed at Natalie gently, the soft wind blowing the gray hair she wore cut to her chin. “I heard what happened. Come here, honey.”
“I’m fine, Mom, really,” she said, patting her back, wanting to push away.
Her mom squeezed her. “No, you’re not, and it’s time we stop dancing around this. Blake might have brought things to a head by moving here, but it’s been a long time coming.”
Now she did push away and had to squint as the western sun came out from a cloud in all its piercing glory. “Mom, please don’t do this. I’m handling it.”
“Are you?”
The gates to her inner fortress lifted as she felt the siege begin. She crossed her arms over her chest, ready to do battle. “Mom, I didn’t say a word when you left Dad, but have you handled things with him?”
“Since I know you only become mean and vindictive when you’re upset, I’ll ignore that.” She put her hands on her hips. “If you must know, I pretty much did exactly what Blake did with you. I asked your father to talk to me. When that didn’t work, I suggested marital counseling. After receiving the cold shoulder for three months, I told him I was leaving if he wasn’t willing to work on our marriage.”
Her hand gripped the doorway as she reeled in shock. It was the most detail she’d heard about her parents’ split. “Mom, I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “When he went to the hospital and stayed there for three days, only coming home to change clothes, I made good on my promise. I hate saying this Natalie, but I love you too much not to speak up. You’re more like your father than you want to admit. When you’re hurting, you go off in your separate corner and become…unreachable. And you have no idea how hurtful that can be.”
Her harsh intake of breath came from the part of her heart that had been wounded by her mother’s words. “I’m sorry you think that, Mom,” she made herself say. “I’m sorry you’re disappointed.”
This time when her mom wrapped her arms around her, she couldn’t make herself return the embrace. Her arms hung by her sides like they didn’t know what to do.
She was like her father? It couldn’t be true!
“I’m not disappointed in you, and you don’t have to apologize to me, honey. But you’re not happy. You’ve put on a brave face for the past couple of years, but you’re not over Kim’s death, and the way you left things with Blake…well, it needs resolution. For both of you. I’m glad he’s here, even if losing Adam—God rest that poor boy’s soul—was part of the reason. Besides, he’s given up a lot to come to Dare Valley.”
Everyone was on Blake’s side and not hers. It wasn’t fair! She stared unblinking over her mom’s shoulder. Usually Dare Valley’s natural beauty delighted her, but all she wanted to do was pack her things and move back to Denver. Today. The urge to run was like a desperate hand pushing on her back.
“I know what I’m saying is hard for you, but honey, I only want you to be happy.”
Why was everyone talking about being happy all of a sudden? Life wasn’t happy all the time. Good people got sick and died for no reason. Like Kim. Like Adam. None of it made any sense.
“Please say something, Natalie,” her mom whispered.
“I don’t know what to do,” she finally admitted. “I don’t know what to say to any of you right now. All I feel is wrong and confused and upset, and I hate that. I hate that you’re all making me feel that way.”
Her mom put her hand on her arm in that Mom Touch no one else in the world could duplicate. It was like liquid sunshine pouring into her veins. Her eyes burned as a pocket of jagged emotion rose up inside her, melting away the icicles in her wasteland. She wanted to shy away from it out of instinct, but she needed it. A few seconds of warmth wouldn’t kill her, would it?
“We’re not trying to make you feel like you’re in the wrong.”
“Why didn’t any of you talk to me about this before?” she asked, her voice rising.
Her mom gave a loud sigh. “We tried. Don’t you remember? But you told us to leave you alone. You didn’t talk to me for three days. Honey, we saw how you pushed Blake away. I was scared to lose you. We all were.”
She loved her family. This conflict was killing her. Without them, she didn’t know where she belonged in the world.
“Blake and I agreed to be friends,” she said as a point of consolation. “I…know he’s hurting from losing Adam.” And she wanted to be there for him even if it was like walking a tightrope without a net below.
“That’s a good start,” her mom told her with a smile. “He’ll need people around him to help him get through this. I called his parents when I heard about Adam. I wanted you to know that. And I want you to know I’m going to go say hi to him after Caro and Mo head back to Denver.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that,” she responded, and even she heard the coolness in her voice.
“Natalie, I love Blake and think he’s a great guy, but you’re still my daughter. I love you no matter what.”
But was that really true? After all, her mom had just told her she was a lot like her father, and no one in the family was too fond of him at the moment.
“Thanks, Mom,” she said, speaking over the part of her that was screaming: Thanks? Seriously? She just took you to the woodshed, you idiot.
“Make peace with your sisters. They only want what’s best for you.”
“I will.” She had to. They were her best friends.
“Good.” Her mom kissed her on the cheek, but there was something hesitant about the gesture. They’d lost the precious ability to be natural with each other, and Natalie’s heart broke a little more.
As soon as they went inside, she sought out her sisters. They partially turned away, like they were expecting her to walk past them. Heart rapping hard in her chest, she bore her shoulders back and faced them down.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For what I said earlier. Please forgive me.”
Caroline sighed and reached for her. She squeezed her eyes tight, letting herself enjoy the sensation of her sister hugging her tight. They were going to be okay.
“I’m sorry too. You’re our sister and best friend. You have our support, whatever you choose.”
She pressed her face into the curve of her neck. When she turned to face Moira, she immediately knew her younger sister wasn’t going to be as forgiving.
“I really am sorry.”
“I am too,” Moira said, “but I hope you can understand where we were coming from.”
So, Mo was going to hold her ground. Why wasn’t she surprised? “I heard you. We’ll just have to agree to disagree on it. I don’t want it to hurt our relationship.”
“It won’t,” Caroline said, sensing the fragile truth was being threatened.
Moira had a stubborn Irish streak a mile wide, and being in human resources, she knew how to speak her mind and h
andle conflict. Caroline, on the other hand, wined and dined nervous artists and prospective sellers at the art gallery where she worked in Denver. She was a pro at telling people what they wanted to hear to get her way, not that she was ever mean or under-handed about it.
“Can I simply ask that we not talk about Blake?” That was the only way she saw this working.
They exchanged a look.
“We won’t ask if you won’t tell,” Moira said.
“What are you drinking?” Caroline asked to smooth over the increasing tension between them. “I saw Terrance bring you something special.”
Now she could finally take a real sip of her drink, and she did. A healthy one. “It’s a Manhattan with the most divine cherries in the world.”
“I hate maraschino cherries,” Moira said, and Caroline nudged her.
“Maraschino cherries give all cherries a bad name.” Because they were her sisters, she fished out one cherry apiece for them. “Give these a try.”
Caroline made a moaning sound. Moira’s eyes widened, probably at the bourbon, which wasn’t her favorite, but then a pleasurable sound popped out of her mouth.
“What are you moaning over?” Jill asked, rushing forward. “Please, tell me. It’s been a while.”
“Red,” her husband called out in an aggrieved voice. “Please don’t make me come over there and give you something to moan about.”
Jill blew him a kiss. “I love teasing him,” she said conspiratorially. “It only makes him work harder when we get home.”
Natalie snorted out a laugh. Her cousin had an uncanny ability to cut tension.
“Maybe you can steal Terrance’s cherries and take them home with you,” Natalie said, giving Jill a sly wink.
She linked their arms together. “I love where you’re going with this. Come on. I can distract Terrance with my Latin moves, and you can steal his cherries. He slaps his hand over his eyes every time I do the salsa. The poor man can’t stand me talking about the Latin dance lessons I gave him in his quest to win Elizabeth back.”
“Probably because he felt humiliated,” Natalie said, even though she’d been a happy spectator at the dance class where Terrance had strutted his stuff.
