She nodded. “Definitely.”
He blew out a long, slow breath, sliding his hands away from hers. Somehow, he’d gone from being the comforter to the one being comforted. Which was the last thing she needed. “Want a ride to the lawyer’s next week?” he asked before taking a bite.
“That would be great.” Her gaze darted to the kitchen door. “I keep hoping Amber has some long-lost sister or aunt, someone to take Jack. Is that wrong?”
Graham shook his head. “The kids don’t know about Matt’s request?” He couldn’t blame her. How the hell did you have that conversation?
“No.” She sat on the stool next to him, propping herself on her elbow, and whispered, “I’m scared. They’ve had a rough two years. I’ve tried to reassure them they will always come first because, for me, they do. And now… I can’t make them love Jack.” She shook her head.
“But that baby boy… None of this is his fault. He’s just a baby. A baby with no one to love him.” Her green eyes searched his. “I don’t know what to say to make this okay. If I can make this okay. Honestly, I’m not okay with this—any of it. But I’m trying to be.”
“Say that,” Graham said. “They know you love them. They might not take the news well initially, but they’ll understand. They’re good kids.” He hoped like hell he was right. Honor would step up, ready and willing to be Jack’s sister. But Nick? It could go either way.
“Want anything else?” Felicity asked.
He glanced at his plate. “I’m stuffed.”
“You didn’t eat much. I can make some coffee, too, if you like?”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I know, but I don’t mind. And I want some.” She waved off his words, putting dishes away. “Charity mentioned the widows’ group has made you their newest project. I think I know who the widows have picked out for you.”
“Is there a way to kindly refuse Widow Rainey’s services? An unsubscribe or opt-out option?” But now he was curious.
Felicity laughed. “You don’t want to know?”
He shrugged. “Not really. But if you want to tell me…”
She smiled, leaning against the kitchen counter. “My sister. Charity.”
“Huh.” Graham glanced at the kitchen door. Charity? There was no denying she was pretty. But her sister wasn’t on his radar. Did he even have a radar anymore? Outside of his daughter, there were no women in his life. Maybe that was wrong? He was forty, not eighty. In a few years, Diana would be gone, and he’d be older—and still alone. But Charity? No. She wasn’t the settling-down sort, and he wasn’t the carefree, world-traveling type.
“It’s okay for you to live, Graham. You know that, don’t you?” Felicity pulled mugs from the cabinet and filled the coffee pot.
“I guess.” Was there a woman strong enough to take on his broken heart and his damaged daughter? And, if there was, could he love her the way she deserved? “I’m not sure I can.” He looked at her. “I don’t know where I’d start…or if it’s worth it.”
“I get it.” Her sad smile gutted him. “There’s safety in not putting yourself out there—in not being rejected or left. I’m not sure I’d survive having my heart ripped out again.” She forced a smile and shrugged. “But we should try? Shouldn’t we? At least that’s what my mother, my sister, Widow Rainey…everyone keeps telling me.”
Graham chuckled. “You, too, huh?”
“The joys of small-town living.” She poured the coffee. “Cream? Sugar?”
“Black. And thank you.”
“Brave man. I make it super strong; you’ve been warned.” Her green gaze met his. “It’s really nice having you and Di here.”
He was still contemplating her words when her phone started vibrating, ending their conversation.
“Hi, Mom…” She paused. “What? When?” She stared at Graham. “No…no… I’m on my way.”
Graham stood. “What’s wrong?”
“Jack. He’s awake.” She took a deep breath.
“I’ll drive,” he offered.
Chapter Five
“Where are you going?” Charity paused in her hunt for munchies. Her sister’s pale complexion and Graham’s clenched jaw were signs all was not right with the world. Again. She’d come home expecting it to be the same boring, predictable place she’d been so eager to leave years ago. How she wished that was the case.
“Jack’s awake,” Graham said, shrugging into his coat. “I’m taking Felicity to the hospital.”
“I’ll hold down the fort. Diana and Nick are having way too much fun blowing each other up to interrupt.” She held up the bag of Cheetos and pack of red licorice laces. “With enough sugar, they probably won’t even know you’re gone.”
“Are you sure?” Graham wavered.
Poor Graham. He was all serious and responsible. Like Felicity. And, after listening to Diana, it was clear he and her sister probably shared something else: the need to go out and have some fun. If they were really lucky, they’d get laid. Big time. Talk about a stress reliever. Why two good-looking singles would choose to remain sad and celibate didn’t make any sense.
Her gaze darted from one to the other, the ideas bouncing around in her mind all good ones.
Her sister.
Graham.
Oh my God, yes. Move over Widow Rainey, I’m all over this matchmaking thing. “Sure, I’m sure. If they get burned out on video games, we’ll find a horror movie to watch. Or something.”
Felicity hugged her. “Thank you.”
Graham handed her his card. “In case you need me.” Oh, she was going to need him, all right. But for reasons that had nothing to do with his daughter. There was something dependable about Graham Murphy. And since she had no idea what she was doing, she needed a doctor she trusted. She’d already called to make her first prenatal appointment, and she was counting on the whole doctor-patient confidentiality thing—for the time being. Her family couldn’t take one more hit at the moment.
“Feel free to, you know, go have a drink or see a movie or something afterward.” She stared right back at them. Too much. Way too much. Tone it down, Charity. “What? Maybe we could use a break from you two? Ever think of that? Maybe giving them a night of video games, horror movies, and junk food away from their parents is just what they need?” She sighed.
“We’ll be back as soon as we can.” Felicity shot her a look.
Her sister was so off her game. Good thing she was here to help things along.
Graham nodded and held the door for Felicity. Because he was a gentleman. Exactly what her sister deserved—for a change.
Charity peeked out the front glass door, watching as they hurried down the walkway. Sometimes, life could suck. Those two had had more than their fair share of sucking. As Graham’s black luxury SUV pulled away from the curb, she hoped they’d take her suggestion to heart. A few shots and some heavy petting might just help them both relax.
Her sister was the strongest person on the planet, but she had to be running on fumes. Not that Felicity would say so, or confide, or lean—she was way too into the big-sister protector thing. Still, Matt had been dead five days. In those five days, her sister had been saddled with his funeral arrangements, keeping her kids’ spirits up, and the whole “when will the ex’s illegitimate love child and destroyer of her niece and nephew’s happy family wake up from his coma?” thing.
Charity felt for the baby, she did. But her loyalties were here, to Nick and Honor, and Felicity, too.
She grabbed a bag of sour-cream-and-onion chips and added it to her pile of snacks, then backed out of the kitchen. “Who’s hungry?” she asked, flopping onto the couch beside Honor.
Honor was watching the bloody melee on the television, a growing look of disgust on her face. “This is horrible. I keep jumping.”
Nick chuckled. “You should try it. Definitely
calms the nerves.”
Charity snorted. She was pretty sure trying to shoot a zombie before it bit into you wasn’t relaxing. At least not her idea of relaxing.
“Right?” Diana added. “Dad took my game away because of the whole pot thing. It sucks, big time. Which is why I have lots of sleepovers.”
Charity didn’t say a word. She wasn’t sure how to read Diana yet. Was she really messed up? Or was she acting messed up for attention?
“Pot?” Honor asked.
Diana nodded, taking a licorice lace from Nick. “It’s no big deal. It was one joint. One. The school totally flipped out and expelled me.”
“You were expelled?” Nick looked skeptical.
“Why else do you think I’m going to your school next year?” Diana rolled her eyes. “Dad can’t buy my way back into any of the private schools. Why he thinks I’m better off at a private school versus a public school is beyond me. Where does he think I bought the pot to begin with?”
So, the real deal then. Not that she was going to judge the girl. She couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to lose a parent. There had been plenty of times during her school years when she’d wished her parents would leave her alone—disappear even. But death? Permanently losing one? She couldn’t imagine that.
Was this one of those times she should act like an adult or not? Felicity would probably pop off some after-school-special message that would instantly and forever change Diana’s outlook on life into some happy rainbow-and-cupcakes-kitten thing. But Charity didn’t know how to do that. She didn’t know how to be a mom. The kid in her belly was getting a raw deal. She needed to start taking notes on Felicity’s parenting style.
“Is my dad still in there with Felicity?” Diana asked, nodding at the kitchen door. “What are your thoughts on that?”
Charity perked up then. This kid was smart.
“On what?” Honor asked, covering her eyes as Nick did some horrible exploding, stabbing thing to a group of virtual zombies and the screen went red. “Gross.”
“My dad. Your mom.” Diana waited.
Nick clicked a button on his controller, pausing the slaughter. “What about your dad and my mom?”
“I don’t know. I think, maybe, they should get together.” She shrugged. “You know, my dad’s as cool as a dad can be. And your mom is awesome.”
Nick stared at Diana like she’d sprouted another head. “Like dating?”
Honor giggled. “Nick, Mom has been alone for a long time,”
“I know that.” He leaned back against the couch. “Dad really screwed her over. I figured she’d stay single. Wouldn’t blame her if she did.”
“She’s way too young and pretty, Nick,” Diana argued. “Better she and my dad get together than some other loser.”
Charity’s heart broke a little bit for her nephew when she saw the look on his face. “Would that bother you?” she asked.
Nick glanced at the kitchen door.
“I like the idea,” Honor spoke up. “If Mom’s happy, I’m happy. Right, Nickie?” She nudged her brother.
Charity ruffled her nephew’s hair, feeling the need to soothe Nick’s ruffled feathers. “I’m pretty sure neither of them is thinking about dating—each other or anyone else.”
Diana sighed. “Which is sad. I mean, life is too fricking short to be alone and miserable all the time.”
Charity smiled at Diana. “That’s where you’re wrong. Neither one of them is alone. Your dad has you, and my sister has these two. And I’m pretty sure you guys make them very happy.”
Diana’s gaze fell from hers, her black-tipped fingers picking at the crocheted trim on the throw pillow in her lap. “Yeah. No. Not in my house. My dad hasn’t been happy since my mom died.” She shoved the pillow aside. “We ready?” she asked Nick.
Charity felt horrible. This was what happened when she tried to be all wise and maternal. She stuck her foot in it. Big time.
“Yeah.” Nick nudged a controller in her direction. “You can spawn in, be on my team.”
“Cool,” Diana said, smiling at him. “Let’s kick some zombie ass. Come on, Honor.”
“Fine.” She took another controller from Diana. “But this isn’t going to be pretty.”
“It’s a zombie-hunting game. It’s not supposed to be.” Nick sighed a long-suffering sigh that had Charity giggling.
But thirty minutes later, she’d reached her threshold for kill-shots and sniping and zombies running at the screen.
Everyone was occupied. Now was the time to do what she’d wanted to do since she found the nanny cam in Matt’s apartment. She didn’t know what she was looking for or why it mattered, but it did. Maybe she needed proof that Amber’s social media posts were a cover-up. Maybe she wanted to know Matt missed his real family—even a little. She carried her bag of sour-cream-and-onion chips into Felicity’s home office and stuck the nanny cam video card into the slot on Felicity’s computer.
Most of it was Jack napping.
Upside, she now knew Jack really loved his blue blanket with clouds and lambs all over it—Nick’s blanket. He held it in one hand and sucked on the thumb of his other hand. It was adorable. Poor little guy. It wasn’t his fault he was a home-wrecker.
She pressed fast forward. Other than napping, there were a few bits and pieces of diaper changes. Matt rocked his son, but she didn’t want to watch that. She remembered all too well the kind of father Matt had been to Honor and Nick—before he became a walking cliché.
She stopped the recording a few times, but nothing exciting happened. Until it did. Amber walked into the nursery. She was wearing to-die-for heels and a glamorous and perfectly tailored suit. She walked toward the crib and peered inside. Jack was screaming.
“He’s coming,” Amber said. “Daddy’s coming.” She reached in and patted the baby awkwardly. “Matt? What’s the holdup?”
“Pick him up, Amber,” Matt answered, somewhere off-screen.
“I’m in my work clothes,” she bit back.
Matt appeared, wearing scrubs, his jaw covered in a heavy stubble. He reached into the crib and picked up Jack, who instantly plugged his thumb into his mouth and calmed. “This is all he wants.”
“Don’t lecture me again, okay?” She was upset. “I’m not cut out for this. We need a nanny.”
“I agree.” He was patting Jack, rocking the boy in his arms. “But a nanny won’t be twenty-four seven. We need to make time for each other and our family. Both of us. It’s important.”
“So is my career. You knew I wasn’t one of those women who thinks her greatest achievement is her children. That’s not who I am.” Amber crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s Felicity. And you left her, remember? Something about how she always put the kids first? How she stopped making time for you? Stopped taking care of your needs.” She sighed. “You picked me, Matt.”
Matt was quiet for a beat, then said, “Felicity is a good mother.”
“I’m not? Are you kidding me? Why do you think I’ve interviewed so many nannies? Why I’ve fired three of them? I want the best for Jack.” Amber cut him off. “Stop trying to make me the bad guy, Matt. I’ve never changed. Ever. I’m beginning to think you have.”
Matt didn’t say a word.
“The way you’re acting… I need a break. We both do.” She sighed. “Go to Honor’s graduation on your own tomorrow. Take Jack with you. You and Felicity and the kids can all be one big happy family again.”
This happened the day before the accident? It made the argument ten times worse.
“Fine.” Matt’s voice was tight.
Amber stood there, shaking. “That’s all you’re going to say?” Apparently, she hadn’t expected Matt’s answer. “You don’t want me to go?”
“Tomorrow is about my daughter, Amber.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been a shit father for the last year
, but that’s going to stop now. My kids, all of them, deserve to have a father. I want to be there for Honor. Maybe get Nick to…look at me—to start…”
“Another choice you made, Matt.” She sighed. “I can’t be here. I’ll… I don’t know what I want anymore. I don’t know about anything.” She walked out.
Matt sat in the rocking chair with Jack, barely flinching at the sound of the front door slamming.
“She’ll be back, Jack. She always comes back.” Matt spoke clearly, no hesitation. “But she’s right, and I need to tell her I made the wrong choice.”
Charity jumped at the crash behind her. She spun around to find Nick in the door, a pie splatted on the floor at his feet. But the devastation on his face, the yearning and regret, tore Charity’s heart into a million tiny pieces.
“Nick.” She was up, reaching for him, pulling his stiff body into a tight embrace.
“It’s cool, Aunt Charity.” He patted her back, shrugging out of her hold as quickly as possible. He stooped, raking the squished pie into the metal pie pan. “Guess they made up, huh, since they were all coming to Honor’s graduation. One big, happy family.”
“Nick—”
“Can we order pizza?” he asked, standing, eyeing the residual pie stickiness on the floor. “And rent that horror movie you were talking about? The shark-storm thing? After I mop.”
If he didn’t want to talk about it, she wouldn’t push it. But this was so a big deal. Technically, it was her fault her nephew had just had his heart ripped out again. How did she make this better? Could she? It was too late for Matt to fix things with Nick—but it had to ease some of Nick’s rage knowing his father had wanted to. Didn’t it?
Or, shit, had it just made it a million times worse?
“Order whatever you want,” she said. “My wallet’s in my purse. I’ll clean it up.”
Nick nodded, cradling the pie pan against his chest as he headed back toward the living room. He looked so like Matt. Acted like him sometimes. The pre-deserted-his-real-family-for-a-bimbo Matt she’d thought of as her brother. Her heart twisted again. He’d regretted leaving his family… He wanted to tell Amber as much. She wasn’t sure whether she hated Matt a little less or a whole lot more.
Accidentally Family Page 7
