And just like that, things were a teeny bit better. She believed her mother, trusted her. “Okay,” Honor murmured, resting her head on her mother’s shoulder.
“Love you, too, Mom,” Nick said, his voice already thick with sleep.
Honor watched her mother’s eyes drift shut; her breathing grew deep and steady. She pulled the quilt up over them and let her mother’s breathing, her brother’s light snore, and the gentle tap-tap of the rain lull her to sleep.
…
“I don’t want to go.” Diana stared at him, not bothering to hide her frustration. “They don’t care if I’m there.”
“We missed the funeral. The least we can do is pay our respects.” Graham stared at her, floored by her outburst. “We’re going.”
“I’m not.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I wasn’t asking.” Graham tucked his wallet into his back pocket and reached for his keys. She’d been spending far too much time closeted in her room, plugged into her earphones and video games. Getting her out of the house would do her some good.
After his meeting with Dr. Keanon, he’d spent every minute he wasn’t at the office with her—much to his daughter’s frustration. Every night, when she showered, he searched her room. He’d recovered the sleeping pills, some of Julia’s expired pain pills, and a bottle of whiskey he’d never seen before. He didn’t say anything about the confiscated items to Diana and, if she missed them, she was smart enough not to say anything to him.
He’d yet to tell her the reason he’d spent a few nights working late was because he was taking a six-week hiatus to delay the inevitable fallout. At this point, he was running on fumes. “We’re going.”
“Fine.” She smiled and her eyes narrowed. “I’ll go.” Her tone left no room for misunderstanding. She would go and make every second a nightmare.
His patience was at an end. He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’m not sure when we got here, Di, but I’d really like to figure a way back. You’re my daughter and I love you—”
“Right, you love me. You want me to be happy. That’s why you’re making me go to a funeral for some cheating asshole whose son hates me. That makes sense.” Diana was a master eye-roller.
“I might not approve of everything Matt Buchanan did, but I do respect and care about his family. For crying out loud, Di, you know how it feels to lose a parent.”
“Stop calling me that,” she snapped. “I do know. Every day. My mom is gone because you let her go.” Her face was bright red. “So, you’re taking me so I can start a dead-parent club or something equally pathetic with the Buchanan kids? Sounds amazing. Where do I sign up?”
Graham counted backward from five, the sting of her words easier from time. “I’m taking you because they came when your mom died. Because it’s what friends do.”
“We’re friends now?” she bit back. “Mom’s dead and Dr. Buchanan’s dead and now we’re all suddenly friends again? Oh, wait, I get what this is. Why not, she’s hot and you’re both single.”
What? Was she serious? He tried to keep his face blank, but she was so good at pushing his buttons. He was the parent, dammit. She would listen. And he would control his temper. “Diana, enough. I’m not sure why you’ve decided to dislike the Buchanans, but they’re nice people. Nice people who’ve suffered a loss. Kids who used to be your friends and who’ve lost their dad. So, yes, we’re friends again—because they could use some.” He cleared his throat, admitting, “And so could we.”
Diana stared at him—her red lips pressed tight. “I never said I didn’t like them.”
He waited.
“I just don’t understand why they suddenly matter?” she asked.
“I’m not sure why they stopped mattering. I’m sure that was my fault. We were friends before, close. You, Nick, and Honor… I know you remember.” He hoped she remembered.
She stuck her chin out, crossing her too-skinny arms over her chest.
“Would it be so bad to have them back in our lives? Be there for them?”
She stared at him, her eyes huge and dark in her pale face. Her posture eased, barely, just barely. “Fine.” She surprised him, walking to the front door. “Then let’s go.”
Her mood swings were relentless, but he was getting what he wanted so he wasn’t going to argue. Any attempt to engage in further conversation ended when she plugged into her earbuds. He let it go, driving through the rain, hoping the visit wouldn’t be a colossal disaster. The last thing he wanted to do was add to Felicity’s stress level—or her family’s.
In the last few days, his admiration for Felicity Buchanan had only increased. He’d run into her at the hospital a few times, various members of her family in tow. Felicity was a powerhouse, a gentle, caring powerhouse. She steered her family seamlessly, smoothed feathers, offered support, with a smile.
Sitting with her at Jack’s bedside, he’d been struck by a memory. A past vacation, his family and Matt’s had been at the beach. The kids were building a sandcastle and Felicity was strolling along the beach, hunting the ever-elusive sand dollar. Julia had pointed out how beautiful Felicity was to both men. She’d been right, as Julia normally was. And when Matt had whistled at his wife, she’d covered her cheeks and smiled—embarrassed and awkward and charming. He’d never been jealous of Matt. He had Julia. But he’d always thought Matt had been damn lucky.
The day Amber Strauss walked into their practice with her pharmaceutical sample case, mile-long legs, and megawatt smile, he’d felt the air ripple between her and Matt. Still, he’d held on to the belief that Matt loved his family too much to do anything stupid. Attraction was tempting, but what Matt and Felicity had was real and special.
Then Matt had given his family up and left Felicity alone to pick up the pieces.
While he was losing Julia.
When Julia got sick, Felicity helped out. Her funeral? Felicity had taken care of so much. After, he’d been useless—ignoring her calls and avoiding her drop-ins.
In his grief, he’d deserted a dear friend. He realized that now. And felt like an ass. If he could do something to make this easier, he would. Because having a workaholic whose kid is on the verge of being institutionalized around is just what Felicity and her family need. Maybe this was a bad idea. He parked his car and stared at the Otto-Buchanan house.
“It’s not raining,” Diana said, looking out the window. “Soo…are we going in?”
He nodded, regretting that he’d forced the issue.
Diana was out the door and hurrying up the stone walkway, glaring at him when he didn’t pick up the pace.
“Dad?” Diana stared at him, oozing impatience.
“What?”
“Are you going to knock?” she asked, sighing.
He knocked.
Charity Otto opened the door. “Graham, I thought you’d passed the point of needing to knock on the door years ago. Hi, Diana? Look at you, rocking the goth-smolder thing. Nice to see you guys.” She frowned. “God, is it okay to say that? Considering the circumstances?” She shrugged. “Come in, eat, please. Seriously.”
Graham followed Diana inside, closing the door behind them. “Guess we are running late?” The house was empty.
“Sort of.” Charity smiled. “The funeral was this morning, everyone just cleared out, and my folks are at the hospital with Jack. I’d say your timing is perfect.”
Graham smiled. Charity’s sarcasm was surprising—and amusing. “We’d meant to make the service but—”
“Dad was birthing babies,” Diana offered.
“A far preferable experience, I’m sure.” Charity smiled. “All healthy?”
Graham nodded.
“That’s way happier than hanging out in black, trying to come up with nice things to say about…him.” Charity shrugged. “Did I mention you should eat? A lot. We could feed the town for a wee
k. Seriously. Follow me.”
Graham did, smiling when they found Felicity, Nick, and Honor gathered around several tubs of ice cream. “If this is dinner, Diana and I might stay.”
“Yeah, we have like two celery stalks and something growing mold in Tupperware. I vote ice cream.” Diana took the spoon Honor offered.
“Bowls are optional,” Felicity said, squeezing around the table and offering him a bowl. “So is real food, Graham. We have real food, lots and lots of it, if you want me to make you something more substantial.”
“I don’t want to be a bother,” he murmured, trying not to let Diana’s comment about Felicity get to him. But it was there, impossible to ignore. Felicity was attractive. No, she was beautiful—radiating a sort of warmth that was impossible to ignore. Everything about her said “woman” in a way that made a man sit up and take notice. And yes, he noticed. He wasn’t dead. But that had nothing to do with why he was here.
Her green eyes met his. “Gives me something to do,” she explained. “So, please, let me cook for you.”
“Especially since you haven’t eaten all day,” Diana added.
“Take a seat, Doc Murphy. Mom’s the bomb in the kitchen,” Nick said, before shoveling ice cream into his mouth.
“Is that a serving spoon?” Graham chuckled.
“He’s a growing boy,” Honor said, grinning.
“This is awesome. Here I thought it was going to be all crying and talking about Dr. Buchanan and all sorts of depressing shit,” Diana said, happily scooping strawberry ice cream into a bowl.
Everyone stopped to look at his daughter. How did she not hear herself? It was like her thoughts just forced their way out of her mouth without a filter.
Felicity burst out laughing. “I’m in favor of avoiding depressing shit.”
Diana nodded. “Right on.”
“And while I appreciate the vote of confidence on my cooking skills, I’m being lazy. Tonight, my cooking will consist of warming things up.” Felicity opened the refrigerator and started pulling plates, trays, and tubs out. “Ham? Turkey? Meatloaf? Lasagna…” She lifted a lid. “Pasta salad. Green salad, Jell-O salad…some sort of pudding thing—”
“That sounds tempting.” He laughed.
Felicity smiled at him. “Careful or that’s all you’ll end up with.”
He held his hands up. “I’ll take whatever you’re serving… Whatever’s easy.”
Felicity’s gaze inspected the various tubs and plates on the counter, then pulled a plate from the cabinet. “How about a little taste of everything?”
He nodded, sitting on one of the bar stools while Honor called Felicity over.
Charity was staring at him, smiling. “How are things, Graham? I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.”
“You haven’t,” Graham agreed. “Around Nick’s fifth birthday?”
“That sounds about right.” Charity’s smile faded. “Not the best godmother—or aunt for that matter.”
Graham shook his head. “I’m no better.”
“Looks like you picked slackers for your kids’ godparents, Filly.” Charity winked. “We could buy them each a car. Maybe that would make up for it?”
Graham laughed.
“Guess you’re the only OB/GYN in Pecan Valley now, huh?”
“No. We have a new doctor at the clinic. Solid. Experienced. Soft-spoken. Dr. Veronica Luna.” He couldn’t have handpicked a more qualified and competent physician. “Or you could go to my competition. Dr. Marissa Delaney and Dr. Hannah Jorgansen opened a practice.”
“Choose between a mean girl I went to high school with and the wife of one of my dad’s fishing buddies?” she asked. “No thank you. As far as I’m concerned, it’s you, this Dr. Luna, or a drive into Austin.”
Graham grinned.
“Awesome.” She sucked in a deep breath, an odd expression crossing her face. “Guess that keeps you busy. Open this for me?” She held out a wine bottle and opener. When he took them, Charity put a wineglass in front of him. “Drink?”
He shook his head as he opened the bottle. “Driving.” But it was tempting.
Charity nodded. “Someone was talking about you today.”
“Oh really?” he asked, absently twirling the cork from the open wine bottle. Felicity’s laugh drew his attention. She was listening to the kids, looking almost relaxed. Whether or not that was the case was another story. He’d begun to realize just how good she was at shielding her emotions from the rest of the world. It had to be exhausting.
“Yep. Widow Rainey.” Charity sounded downright giddy.
That got his attention. For Widow Rainey, matchmaking ranked right up there with knitting and quilting and getting into everybody else’s business. She meant well; she did. But this…dating? He wasn’t interested. He wasn’t ready. Apparently his gentle, but firm, attempts to dissuade the woman from finding him a “compatible partner” were useless. No surprise, really.
Even if he was, there was Diana. He didn’t know if it was possible for his daughter to dislike him more than she currently did, but he had no interest in finding out. “I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.” He set the cork on end, doing his best not to sound irritated.
Charity nodded. “Exactly. Not that she named names, but she has someone in mind for the good doctor of Pecan Valley.”
Great. Graham rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
“He’s so not interested.” Diana jumped in, stealing a roll from his plate. “She’s been trying to set Dad up for a while now. I keep telling him he needs to get out more. I mean, look at him—he’s totally a hottie. And he’s obnoxiously focused. And loaded.”
His daughter was giving him compliments…sort of. “Um, thanks?” But now Honor and Nick, Charity and Felicity were all studying him openly, and he didn’t like it.
“OMG, Dad, you’re totally blushing.” Diana giggled.
He stared at his daughter, seeing his baby girl, giggling and carefree, with no trace of her normal hostility. He smiled back, etching everything about that moment into his mind.
“Well, this got awkward.” Nick grabbed the ice cream tub, turning to Diana. “You play Black Ops?”
“Um, do I? You wanna get your ass kicked, lead the way,” Diana said, sliding off the kitchen chair.
“Can’t we play Mario Cart?” Honor asked, following them. “You know, something without exploding body parts or weapons of mass destruction?”
“Whatever happened to board games? Like Clue?” Charity asked.
“Nah, come on, Aunt Charity. I bet you can kill-shot zombies like a boss.” Nick nudged his aunt, teasing. The kid had a great smile.
Graham sat watching as the kitchen emptied of everyone but Felicity and him. “Who knew ice cream was the cure for teenage angst?”
“I’m afraid the effects might be temporary. But I’ll take what I can get.” Felicity laughed. “Hope you don’t have any plans because it looks like you’re staying for a while.” She slid the plate in front of him. “Once Nick gets plugged in, it’s all over.”
“Diana’s the same.” He didn’t mind staying. Better than going home, waiting for the opportune moment to search his daughter’s room for any cause for concern. Additional concern. Worrying about his daughter had become a twenty-four-hour occupation. This was as close to a break as he was going to get.
“It’ll do him some good. Diana, too.” She looked at him, thoughtful, as if she had more to say.
He waited, wanting to know what she was thinking. But she only smiled and went back to tidying, and he turned all his attention to the plate she’d made for him. It was piled high. He shot her a look, loving her answering impish grin.
“I hate to throw food out.” Her hands smoothed the plastic wrap over a tray of brownies.
“You can’t expect me to eat all of this?”
“You can do it. According to your daughter, your pantry is bare.” She glanced at him, opening the fridge. “You have to take care of yourself, for her. You know that, right? She watches you.”
“Glares at me.” He swallowed a bite of turkey. “That’s impressive.” With his fork, he pointed at the strategically packed shelves of her refrigerator. “You weren’t kidding about the food.”
“I’m sending some home with you. That pudding thing for sure.”
He laughed. “Just what I wanted.”
“I thought as much.” She closed the refrigerator door and faced him. “No matter how she acts—Diana, I mean—she’s paying attention to what you do. Probably more than you realize. I know it’s been a while since we talked but…how are you?” That green gaze locked with his.
“You’re asking me how I am?” Her question made him feel like an even bigger ass. He and Diana had been doing this dance for a couple of years now. Felicity, her kids, were facing a whole new sort of hell. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”
“You go first,” she pushed, a furrow forming between her brows. “Graham?”
“I’m hanging in there.” Which was true. “Every day it gets easier.” Which wasn’t true but he couldn’t bear to unload on her.
“Good. Julia wouldn’t want you to hold on to the hurt. You know that.” There were tears in her eyes. Because she’d loved Julia, too. “She loved seeing you both happy. She’d want that now.”
The lump in his throat doubled in size, preventing him from answering her. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to think about Julia beyond the sickness and loss.
“I’m sorry.” Felicity covered his hand with hers. “It’s none of my business and I—”
He stared down at her hand, covered it with his. The touch was casual enough, but it meant more than she could understand. Affection of any sort was no longer commonplace in his life. And her hand was so soft and warm in his. “Don’t be. You’re right. It’s a good reminder.” He smiled at her. “Need more of them.”
Accidentally Family Page 6
