“Felicity?” Graham stood in the doorway, a cup of coffee in each hand.
“Oh, hey.” Out of instinct, she wiped her face, stiffened her spine, and assumed as carefree an expression as possible. Positive thoughts, right? It’s not like crying would do any good.
But something made Graham set the two coffee cups on the bed table and pull Felicity up and into an awkward hug.
Except it wasn’t all that awkward. It was warm. Strong yet gentle. It offered comfort, something she desperately needed. Something she didn’t want to admit she needed. She clung to it—to Graham. His arms tightened just enough for her to lean on him. So, she did, burying her face in his shirtfront and breathing deep. He held her up until the sting of tears and crush of panic had receded.
The instant she stepped back—cold, hard reality was waiting.
“Sorry,” she murmured, taking the coffee cup he offered her. Damn her shaking hands.
“Don’t be.” His brown gaze held only sympathy. “You don’t have to be strong for me.”
He was trying to be kind. But being strong was her only option. Though, tonight was definitely testing her. As tempting as it was to fall apart and let him hold her for a while longer, she couldn’t. She was the rock, Miss Calm, the glue, the rational one. One slip might send her crashing to the floor, and she wasn’t sure she could get back up again. Instead, she sipped the coffee, too hot to taste. “Diana okay? Nick can be a little…challenging.”
“He’s having a hell of a night. You all are.” His gaze searched hers before shifting to his coffee. “Diana is the queen of challenging. And drama. I have to remind myself how much she’s been through for someone so young. But there are times when I don’t know how to handle her.”
Felicity heard the bone-weary defeat in his voice. Graham Murphy had always been a good guy. When their families were young and their friendship was solid, he’d been one of those super hands-on dads. And Diana had adored her daddy.
Clearly, something had changed.
When Matt left and Graham’s sweet wife entered hospice care, the world had come apart. Piecing it back together was, for all of them, an ongoing process. “Parenting is exhausting, isn’t it? Parenting teens takes it to a higher level, I think. I don’t remember being a difficult teen. I’m sure I was. Aren’t all teens? It’s a requirement, isn’t it?”
Graham smiled at her. “Somehow, I don’t see you ever being difficult.”
“My parents might disagree.” But most of their trying teen stories were focused on her wild little sister, Charity, and her adrenaline-seeking brother, Zach. Felicity had never been a risk-taker or a rule breaker. And she’d never felt like she was missing out, not really. “Where is Diana?”
“She’s sleeping over at a friend’s house. She’s not a fan of hospitals, in general.”
Why would she be? She’d spent so much time here when her mother was sick. If she was in Di’s shoes, she’d do whatever she could to avoid being here.
Graham studied Jack, crossing the room to get a closer look at the toddler. He scanned the monitors. “His vitals are good. That’s something. Lots of wait and see in his future.”
The future. Right now, that was measured in minute-by-minute increments. She sipped more coffee, wishing she could absorb its heat through osmosis.
“Nick and Honor go home?” he asked.
“Just a walk. They want to stay, of course.” She moved to the other side of Jack’s bed, watching his little chest rise and fall slowly. “I can’t seem to leave the room. He’s too little to wake up alone. And he looks so much like my babies…” Could she do this? If…if Matt didn’t pull through… No. Not touching that. She changed gears quickly. “I know with work and Diana, you need sleep. If you need to go, you can.”
Graham didn’t say anything, so she looked at him. He was studying Jack. “I have a patient upstairs who will probably deliver tonight.” He ran a hand along the back of his neck. “I checked in after Diana left. Mom and Dad are fired up and ready, but first babies like to keep everyone guessing.”
Upstairs, a baby was being born. Someone’s birthday. A new family, full of hope and love and dreams. Life went on. It was an oddly stabilizing realization. Felicity smiled. “That’s really wonderful news.”
Graham looked at her then, a slow smile creasing the corners of his brown eyes. He’d always had a nice grin. That hadn’t changed.
She pulled one of the two chairs closer to Jack’s bed and sat. “We could all use some good news.”
“Mrs. Buchanan? I’m Dr. Sayeed.” Dr Sayeed stepped inside Jack’s room. “Graham.” He glanced at Jack.
“Sam.” Graham’s tone was stiff, drawing her full attention.
“I was Matt’s surgeon.” Dr. Sayeed spoke calmly. And it rattled her nerves. “We knew there were some internal injuries, but they were more extensive than anticipated.”
Graham’s jaw muscle flexed, and his brown eyes locked with hers.
Matt had known. It took effort to breathe. To stand.
Dr. Sayeed looked between her and Graham, prompting Graham to move to her side before he went on. “I’m afraid I have bad news…”
…
Charity Otto stood in the doorway of her childhood home, confused by the lack of people, music, and partying. Yes, Pecan Valley wasn’t a social mecca, but it was barely eleven. And it was Honor’s big night—worthy of celebrating. Charity had plans to make the night unforgettable. These plans included the setting off of illegal fireworks, waking the neighbors with obnoxious party blowers and air horns, and—if her parents and sister didn’t freak out too much—providing the graduates bottles of celebratory champagne.
“Hello?” she called out. “Family of mine?”
She tugged her large wheeled suitcase into the foyer, put her brown paper bag of contraband on the floor, and closed the front door behind her.
“Felicity?” she yelled, flipping on the lights.
The door hadn’t been locked, so someone had to be home.
Or not.
Pecan Valley meant community watch groups and nosy neighbors. Living in one of the biggest, oldest houses in town and being part of a family that had helped settle this region of the Texas Hill Country meant their family was more closely monitored. It was one of the reasons Charity had left town the day after her high school graduation. She wasn’t going to live under a microscope. She was going to live.
“Nick? Honor?” She flipped on more lights. “Wowsers, Filly, good job.” She stood, appreciating the remodeled kitchen.
Dad would never have allowed the changes made to his family home. But it wasn’t his home anymore. After Felicity’s divorce, Mom had convinced him that Felicity and the kids needed a place to start over. The fact that she’d never been a fan of the big dark house might have helped as well. Once Mom had found the perfect fishing cabin, perched right along the lake, Dad had handed over the keys without blinking an eye.
And Felicity had worked her magic, renovating the hundred-plus-year-old home from the roof to the floors. Lighter, airier, less cluttered…it looked great—a real, livable showplace. The family pictures over the thick wooden mantle were mostly the same, with the addition of Nick and Honor’s most recent school pictures.
Charity lingered, stunned by how grown-up they both looked.
“Oh, Felicity, you’re gonna have more heartache over him,” she murmured, picking up her nephew’s picture. He looked just like her brother-in-law at fifteen. Matt had been around before Charity was in her first training bra or thinking of boys as anything other than a pain in the butt. A view Matt had only reinforced the last few years. It’d been hard watching her sister’s heart get shredded. And sad to lose a man she’d considered her brother. “Let’s hope you only look like your dad.”
She moved on to Honor—she had high hopes for Honor. The girl was a solid mix of old soul and childlike won
der, kind and smart-as-a-whip. Gone were the kooky glasses and braces. Now she was a gorgeous young woman who’d be attending college on a full academic scholarship, far away from the confines of Pecan Valley.
“Hello?” she yelled, jumping when Praline and Pecan came thundering down the stairs. The golden-striped cats wound between her legs, purring ferociously. “Hi, guys. Where are the human inhabitants?”
She shrugged out of her jacket, kicked off her heels, and flopped onto the couch—the early morning flight and hours of waiting in the airport catching up with her. “Looks like it’s just us girls.” Praline and Pecan immediately crawled into her lap, kneading and headbutting her until she had one tucked under each arm. She sighed, resting her head on the back of the couch.
Might as well enjoy the quiet. Once the family arrived, quiet would vanish and the questions would begin. How was work? Where had she been last? Had she met any interesting people? And, most importantly, how long was she staying in Pecan Valley?
“I’m not going anywhere,” she murmured, continuing to give the cats a solid rubdown. “If Filly’s okay with it, I’ll be rooming here with you guys.” The time for living out of her hard-sided suitcase had come to an end. No more stamps in her passport. No more travel or tours or adventures. “I’m a lady of leisure now, guys. Exploring all my options.” At least, that was the answer she planned on giving when people asked.
The truth? That might not go over so well. Her hands strayed to her stomach. She wouldn’t be able to hide her baby bump for much longer—which meant she needed to come to terms with the whole pregnancy thing and stop thinking about her hometown as a place to escape from. Her family was here, and since she had no idea how to raise a kid or be a responsible adult, she was going to need them.
“Who wants ice cream?” she asked the cats. “I could go for some pecan praline.” She laughed as two sets of identical copper eyes stared up at her. “Or plain old vanilla.”
She stood, pulled her phone from her pocket, and headed into the kitchen. Two messages from her mother. Nothing from Felicity. She frowned, pressed play on her mother’s first voicemail, and opened the freezer.
“Jackpot,” she said, pulling the tub of neapolitan from the shelf.
“Hi, Charity, it’s your mother.” Her mother’s voice filled the kitchen.
“Hi, Mom. I know it’s you.” She smiled as Pecan jumped onto the counter.
“Felicity told me your flight was delayed, so I thought I’d check and see if you needed your father to come and get you. How late will you be? We’re having clear skies here. Can’t wait to see you. Oh, and you’ll never guess who asked about you. Braden Martinez.” Charity spooned a large bite of ice cream into her mouth as her mother drew in a deep breath. “Braden, you know, the one you went to homecoming with. He looked so very pleased to hear you were staying for a short visit…”
“Maybe not so short,” Charity muttered, spooning in another delicious mouthful.
Pecan mewed pathetically so Charity put a dab of ice cream into a bowl and offered it to the cat. Praline stayed by her feet, wailing loudly.
“Okay, okay,” Charity said. “Guess you have the better manners, don’t you? No cats on the counter.” She gave Praline her own bowl.
“…so, let us know. And be careful, please. There was a story about a young woman being abducted from an airport. She traveled for her job, too, and no one realized she was missing for weeks because…”
Charity rolled her eyes. “I’m here, Mom. Where are you?”
The message ended.
“It’s so quiet,” she said to the cats. “My ears are ringing. Are yours?” She pressed play on the next voicemail.
“Hi, Charity, it’s your mother. You’re probably on the airplane now, but please call when you land. There’s been an…incident. We’re all at the hospital. Now’s not the time for details. Oh… Please call me. Love you, Charity. So so much.” And then the message ended.
Charity stopped eating ice cream. Her mother was never—ever—short-winded. So that was the first red flag. The second, her mother lived for spilling details. Not a one. But the last flag, the big one: they were all at the hospital. Something bad had happened.
In five minutes, she was on the road to the hospital, puzzling over possibilities.
It wouldn’t be Dad. Mom wouldn’t have been able to call her if it were—it would have been Felicity on the phone.
Could it be Grams? Was her great-grandmother back from her widows’ group cruise down the Rhine? Again, Mom seemed too calm for that to be the case.
So, who?
She didn’t want to think about the kids. But it was graduation night. Accidents happened.
I’m such an idiot. She thought about the bottle of champagne sitting on the floor in the brown paper bag. She was trying to be the cool aunt. An idiot.
The roads were quiet. No traffic. She sat at the red light, her fingers tapping in irritation. Did she really have to sit here? No one was coming. No one. At all.
She put her foot on the accelerator and rolled through the intersection.
Red and blue lights came to life, the siren scaring her so much that she jerked her rental car and bounced off the curb.
“Dammit!” She hung her head, waiting. And still, the knock on her driver’s window made her jump.
She rolled down the window.
“Evening,” the officer said. “In a hurry?”
She nodded, trying to sound calm. “I’m headed to the hospital.”
“Emergency?” he asked.
She nodded, glancing up at the man shining a flashlight on her. Beyond a large, dark shape and a glare in her eyes, she couldn’t see much. “According to my mom, yes. I just flew in from Chicago.”
“Wait. Charity? Charity Otto?”
She held her hand up, trying to see. “Yes?”
“Well, hell, Charity, let’s get you to the hospital.”
Chapter Three
Felicity stared straight ahead, her anxiety rising faster than the elevator they were riding.
“Is this weird for you?” Charity asked, rolling the collapsible storage cart full of recyclable shopping bags back and forth. When they’d been growing up, Felicity had always known when Charity was nervous or upset by how much she fidgeted. Since she’d offered to come with Felicity to Matt and Amber’s apartment, her sister had been on full-fidget mode. Spinning her bangled bracelets, tapping her fingers on her thighs, brushing through her long strawberry-blond curls with her fingers. Constant movement. It was oddly comforting.
“I’m guessing it’s really weird,” Charity added.
“Yep,” she agreed. Weird didn’t begin to describe it. This was…enemy territory. He’d left her for this.
Matt. Matt who was gone forever.
She had yet to come to terms with what, exactly, that meant. But she’d had no choice about coming here. Thinking about Jack waking up to a stark, empty hospital room full of hovering strangers with nothing familiar to soothe his fears was all she needed to go through with it. Surely Jack had some special blanket or toy in his crib he’d want when he finally opened his eyes.
The Porsche key fob was heavy in her hands. Not from the keys but from the size of the keychain. It had been Amber’s—Amber’s shiny convertible and Amber’s keys. Keys to a shiny convertible that now belonged to her daughter.
For now, she’d use the keys to enter Amber’s apartment. Amber and Matt’s apartment. Where they were going. Now.
“This sucks,” Charity whispered.
“It does. All of this.” She glanced at her sister. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Of course.” Her mischievous grin warned Felicity her sister was up to no good. “Did you really think I’d miss an opportunity to see her stuff? I mean, come on, she was a husband-stealing bitch, but her wardrobe was always on point.”
Charity had easily revealed her initial obsessive rage over Matt’s desertion. He’d been a big part of her life, too, so she’d unabashedly stalked Matt and his other woman on social media for a while.
Apparently, Amber posted selfies and happy family pictures daily, adding little digs here and there about landing her doctor, how expensive her upcoming wedding was going to be, and her always impressive record-breaking pharmaceutical sales.
“You know you can’t have any of her clothes.” Felicity glanced at her sister. “Right?”
“Felicity, come on. I won’t keep them all.” She batted her eyes. “Honor could have the rest. She’d be the best-dressed freshman on campus.”
Felicity rolled her eyes. “No.” Selfish or not, the idea of bringing Amber’s things into her home was more than she could handle right now. Besides, she wasn’t here for clothes or, much to Charity’s disappointment, reconnaissance. This was about Jack. With any luck, they’d be in and out before her anxiety got the best of her—or Charity managed to sneak out part of Amber’s wardrobe.
“At least think about it,” she pleaded.
She didn’t say a word. Arguing with her sister never ended well for her.
“I’ll take the silence as a maybe.” Charity sighed. “Has anyone been located? Amber’s family, I mean. Anyone at all?”
“No one.” Felicity swallowed. “Matt’s friend Robert Klein, Rob the lawyer, is looking into it.”
“Rob Klein? The one Mom slips into conversation whenever possible? Single. Handsome. Ready to settle down.She’s not even trying to be subtle.” Charity shook her head. “Wait, Rob was white-teeth guy? Matt’s golfing buddy? I remember the teeth.”
“Yes.” Felicity smiled. “About the golfing. I don’t remember the teeth.”
“How is that possible?” Charity asked. “Other than that, he was sorta cute. Too bad he’s a lawyer.”
Accidentally Family Page 3
