Family by Design

by Callie Endicott

  “How is everything, Penny?” Rachel asked, generously stirring cream into her cup. She made the question intentionally vague, knowing Penelope might not want to be reminded of her loss.

  “I’m managing. It helps that my granddaughter moved here a while back with her little girl. Imagine, me a great-grandmother!” Penny’s smile was determined. “How did I get this old?”

  “You aren’t old, Grams,” Jessica Parrish declared, coming out from the back room with a stack of boxes. “You’re just well seasoned.” Apparently it was a standing joke and the two of them laughed.

  Rachel had frequently encountered the elder Parrishes when she’d flown into Seattle to spend time at Moonlight Ventures. They’d been a loving, devoted couple who’d spoken often about their family. Rachel had briefly met Jessica at Eric’s funeral and got the impression that she was more standoffish than her gregarious grandparents. As she recalled, Jessica was a single mom, with a child around five or six. Perhaps that explained her reserve. Penny had mentioned her granddaughter was a wonderful mother, but proud and stubbornly independent.

  Rachel’s thoughts arrowed back to Simon. He was a single parent, too. In a way, raising a child might be easier for him since he had enough resources to hire a nanny, but he was still alone.

  Simon’s disdain for the women who’d chased him since his wife’s death was impossible to miss, yet Rachel wondered if it was entirely deserved. Livvie was a wonderful child, highly intelligent, older than her years and anxious for love. Wasn’t it possible that some of those women had genuinely believed she needed a mother and that Simon needed someone to draw him out of his grim solitude? She felt the pull herself, the desire to offer solace in the face of grief and loss.

  Rachel shook herself and took a small drink from her cup.

  She could be a friend to Livvie—as much as her father would allow—but must not cross a line.

  “You made a face. Is something wrong with the coffee?” Jessica asked.

  Rachel blinked. “Er, no. I was just thinking about a prospective client.”

  “Your thoughts couldn’t have been very pleasant.”

  “They’re mixed,” Rachel admitted. “It’s tricky whatever I decide, because he also lives in my building.”

  “Ouch.” Jessica looked sympathetic. “I once did day care for a family in my old apartment complex. The situation didn’t go well.”

  “Then you understand.” It was on the tip of Rachel’s tongue to suggest trying to set up a playdate between Livvie and Jessica’s daughter... And she realized she was already at risk of stepping over the line she’d warned herself about. “Anyway, the espresso is great as always. I’d better get back to my office. Nice seeing you again, Jessica. Take care, Penny.”

  “You, too.”

  Rachel remained deep in thought as she returned to Moonlight Ventures. Having Gemma show up, interested in reading books for the blind, had been a welcome distraction from her deliberations about Simon. Gemma was interesting. She seemed quite shy, and Rachel wondered if there was a history behind the nanny’s lack of confidence, or if it had always been an aspect of her personality.

  It isn’t your business, she reminded herself. She might have to address it if Gemma wanted to become a client, but not before.

  Rachel sat at her desk, determined not to allow Gemma’s boss to interrupt her day any further. Well, except to consider ideas for the design house. As she sipped her coffee, she added to the notes she’d made, though it was partly a list of pros and cons about accepting Liv’ing Creations as a client. No matter what Simon said about it really being for Livvie, she’d be dealing with him—a seven-year-old child didn’t make business decisions. But was Livvie too young to have any creative input? It seemed so, but she couldn’t assume.

  After an hour or so, Gemma returned to the agency, her face pink with excitement.

  “How did it go?” Rachel asked.

  “Okay. I’m coming in on Saturday morning to start recording a novel printed by a local publisher. Matt seems awful nice. He said to give you this.” She handed a CD case to Rachel.

  “I’ll put it in my file. If you decide to try picking up extra work as a voice artist, we’ll be almost ready to go.”

  “I can’t believe people would want to pay just to have me, uh, talk.”

  Rachel grinned. “You’d be amazed at how much work there is for voice artists—radio ads, voice-overs for television, documentaries, all sorts of things. I’m not saying you’d necessarily earn a living, just have the potential to earn extra cash.”

  “That doesn’t matter. I don’t want to leave my job.”

  “Of course not. Taking care of Livvie must be a delightful way to earn a living. She’s such a sweetheart.”

  “She is.” Gemma’s voice was fervent. “Um, I didn’t realize that Matt was blind at first. It was only when I saw his guide dog that I figured it out.”

  “To tell the truth, I don’t think of him that way. He’s just Matt. He lost his sight when he was a teenager—some guy lost control of his car and hit a group of teens. Most of them were pretty lucky, but Matt had damage to his optic nerve. As for Pepper, she’s a beautiful animal and I always want to give her love, but I have to resist when she’s on duty.”

  “I know what you mean. She’s the prettiest golden retriever I’ve ever seen. Matt obviously takes great care of her.” Gemma shifted her feet. “I’d better go. I have some things to do before picking Livvie up at school.”

  When Rachel was alone again, Simon inevitably wandered back into her thoughts. Hopefully she’d hidden how attractive she found him, his sardonic qualities notwithstanding.

  There had been something in Gemma’s tone when she’d mentioned Matt that suggested she found him attractive. The young woman was unguarded enough that she didn’t even realize what she could be revealing.

  Rachel remembered when she’d been as unguarded as Gemma. She wasn’t that much older, but it seemed like forever ago.

  * * *

  MATT USED THE remainder of his unexpected break to work on mixing and mastering the Sound Worthy band’s new song. His concentration wasn’t at its best, though, and his thoughts kept returning to Gemma Paulsen.

  She had a terrific voice, low-pitched and well modulated. Once she’d started reading his sample material, she had relaxed, slowed down and got absorbed in the short story. An instinctive oral storyteller, he’d concluded, the kind who drew the listener in because she sounded genuinely interested in the tale herself.

  On the other hand, Matt hadn’t appreciated the offer to help move the podium, as if his inability to see made him incapable of simple tasks. It was possible her initial reticence might have stemmed from not knowing how to act around someone who was blind. That was a common situation—after all, nobody was required to take classes on the subject.

  Matt reached out a hand and Pepper got to her feet, yet she seemed to understand he was just offering affection.

  “You always know what I want, don’t you?” he murmured as she pressed against his leg and put her muzzle on his knee.

  He stroked her neck, searching for the spots she liked best.

  His family claimed Pepper rarely took her gaze off him, always watching in case she was needed. And he knew that if he stepped away by himself, she quickly got restless and came looking, as if she was worried he couldn’t manage without her.

  “Why is your protectiveness okay, when anyone else’s drives me crazy?” Matt whispered.

  Pepper let out a faint whine and nuzzled his hand.

  “I know, girl.”

  She grew anxious when he was moody. He wasn’t even sure what had put his tail in a twist, though he suspected it was Gemma Paulsen. From her voice he’d got a mental picture of an attractive young woman, probably close to his age...and thoroughly uncomfortable. He’d been tempted to say if she was that uptight around a blind guy
, she could donate her time elsewhere—he wasn’t a charity. But he hadn’t, partly because Pepper had liked her. The golden retriever was a good judge of character and it was clear when she didn’t trust someone.

  Blast.

  Matt removed his headphones, annoyed with his lack of focus. He shouldn’t care whether Gemma was uneasy around him, or why she’d volunteered to be a reader. His goals were to make a living and help make books from local presses available to people who were blind or sight impaired.

  That was all.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  RACHEL COULDN’T GET to sleep that night and finally went out to her balcony with the notepad she’d been using to keep notes about Liv’ing Creations. She scribbled a few additional thoughts, but soon turned off the light and just stared at the view. Moonlight sent a soft glow across the lake’s surface and the effect was achingly beautiful.

  It was also romantic, but she hastily reminded herself that she wanted to deal with reality.

  After another hour she went to bed, forcing herself to relax and finally sleep. In the morning she retrieved the notepad, which had got damp from falling dew. She set it on the kitchen counter to dry while she ran next door to the Java Train Shop.

  “Hello, Rachel,” Simon said, stepping behind her in the line of people waiting to order.

  Hmm. Perhaps she should switch to tea for her morning wake-up juice. Tea was something she could easily make in her own kitchen and she wouldn’t risk running into Simon Kessler while doing it. Still, he was there and unless she sold her condo and moved, she was going to encounter him occasionally, whether or not he became a client.

  Rachel straightened her shoulders. “Good morning, Simon. How are you?”

  “Fine. I planned to call later to see if you were okay with the appointment I made. Have you had enough time to process your impressions about the design house?”

  “I’ve been making notes, but something has come up for tomorrow morning. Chelsea planned to contact you today about it.”

  “Now she won’t have to.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. No doubt he wasn’t accustomed to following someone else’s timetable...or having calls delegated to an office manager.

  The line moved forward and Rachel turned toward the counter, pretending to study the menu mounted on the wall.

  “Actually, there’s something else I’d like to discuss,” Simon said, interrupting her thoughts.

  She swiveled, wincing as the motion caught her leg the wrong way. “Yes?”

  “Gemma mentioned you’d arranged for her to do volunteer reading for the blind, and maybe the possibility of paid voice work in the future?”

  “That’s right,” Rachel agreed. If he objected, he’d get an earful about what was his business and what wasn’t.

  “Is it a healthy situation for her? While Gemma’s my employee, I’ve known her since she was eighteen and care about her welfare.”

  Rachel narrowed her eyes. “Do you honestly think I’d get her into anything I didn’t think would be safe?”

  “It isn’t that,” Simon denied, “but she had a difficult childhood and I don’t want her hopes raised if things don’t work out.”

  Still angry, Rachel met his gaze squarely. “This is a public location and hardly the right place for this discussion. But I’d like to know...if you don’t trust my judgment, why would you ask me to consult on the design house?”

  A hint of chagrin crossed his face. “I apologize. That was stupid and officious.”

  “You got that right.”

  A voice came from behind her. “Your usual, Rachel, or do you want to be adventurous?”

  Rachel turned and nodded at the barista. “No adventure today, Palmer. My usual espresso, thanks.”

  She handed over the travel mug she’d brought and waited for it to be filled. When it was returned, she nodded at Simon and walked out of the shop.

  “Wait.” He caught up with her.

  She gestured at his empty hands. “What about your coffee?”

  “I’ll get some later. Look, I shouldn’t have brought up Gemma.” He ran his fingers through his brown hair. “I’m not even sure why I did.”

  “You don’t need to worry,” Rachel told him crisply. “I’ve made it clear that it’s hard to make a living doing voice work, so I doubt you’ll lose your nanny because of me.”

  “I wouldn’t stand in Gemma’s way if she wanted to do something else.”

  “Glad to hear it. Livvie won’t need a nanny forever. Good nannies are in demand, but there’s no guarantee Gemma can get another position when the time comes. Or that the job would be what she wants.”

  Simon’s expression turned harried. “I realize that. Originally it was only going to be until Livvie was in school. But things changed.”

  Plainly he was referring to his wife’s illness and death, and Rachel nodded. The situation was hardly normal and it wasn’t as if Gemma was miserable. Simon seemed to treat her generously and she loved taking care of Livvie.

  Besides, Rachel knew it was none of her business. She just had a fix-it mentality. As a makeup artist she’d listened to people talking about their lives and careers. Sometimes they’d paid her the compliment of saying her questions or suggestions had benefited them.

  And now she was an agent, in the business of helping people succeed. Yet she needed to be wary of helping too much. It was a trait Kevin McClaskey possessed in abundance, something she’d experienced when he’d represented her as a model. Kevin was a special guy, which was one of the reasons she’d been so pleased when she and her partners had bought Moonlight Ventures from him, but she also knew the importance of taking care of herself.

  Independence was like a muscle that needed to be regularly flexed.

  * * *

  SIMON GAZED AT Rachel’s face as various emotions flew across her features. He wanted to get a handle on what made her tick. That way he might be able to keep his thoughts about her in a manageable category in his head.

  “You have an odd look in your eyes. What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “That I need to control my impulse to fix things for other people.”

  “I don’t need fixing.” The denial came out more harshly than intended. As a kid, a number of people had figured he needed help because of his strange childhood. Lately it was more about encouraging him to “move on” now that he was a widower.

  “I never said you needed fixing,” Rachel said tartly.

  “Perhaps, but that’s what many people have meant when they said something similar.”

  “And you have a habit of jumping to conclusions, especially about the opposite sex. Most of us need something fixed in our lives, but my comment had nothing to do with you. What you need, no one can fix, because no one can bring back what you’ve lost, and if they could, it still wouldn’t restore the past because you’ve become a different person.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Our experiences change who we are. You’ve gone through the loss of your mother, a hard childhood and now the loss of your wife. You’re a different person because of it. You have to build something new without Olivia, because life can’t go back to the way it was.”

  “You seem to have done a lot of thinking about me and my situation.”

  Rachel’s brilliant blue eyes opened wide. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she advised in a dry tone. “I was simply applying what I’ve learned from my own experiences. Once upon a time I used to keep thinking about everything that’s happened to me and what I’d lost. I dreamed about getting it all back. Life got easier when I accepted that both the world and I had changed, and my only choice was to move forward.”

  Simon wondered if she was subtly suggesting he sell the design house and allow his wife’s legacy to become no more than a memory. But he didn’t ask if that was what she meant—she’d probably retort with something even
stronger than don’t flatter yourself. Most likely it would be an accusation of massive arrogance. And she’d be right—after all, why should everything she said be a special message directed at him?

  For the first time he tried to see himself from Rachel’s point of view, and it was humbling to realize he might not seem like such a prize. She was beautiful and talented and could probably have her pick of Seattle bachelors. But what had she said, that friendship worked better for her?

  “I suppose with Livvie you don’t have much choice except to move forward,” Rachel added. “She’s a growing child with new needs and interests.”

  A rueful sensation swept through Simon. “In a way, but I’ve discovered Livvie is huge on tradition. I can’t tell you how many times she’s explained that we can’t change how we do something, because that’s how we did it when Mommy was here. The Christmas tree is a prime example. Liv loved fresh evergreens and wanted to put a tree up the day after Thanksgiving. Do you know how dry those things get after a week or two?”

  Rachel winced. “Yes, even when they’re new cut.”

  Instead of standing and talking, they’d somehow begun walking together toward the lake.

  “I suppose tradition is in a special category of its own,” she continued. “Doesn’t it become a living part of the present?”

  “In a way, but what if it stands in the way of making new memories and traditions? I hate hearing people say you need to move on when you’ve lost someone. At the same time, how healthy is it for children to stay stuck in the past? It’s one thing for me to know Liv was the love of my life and to choose my memories over something else, but I don’t want my daughter to think her best days ended when she was five years old. Or to believe when she takes over her mother’s business someday, she can’t make it what she wants because she has to keep doing everything the way Liv did.”

  The words burst out, astonishing Simon. Since losing Olivia, he hadn’t discussed his parenting woes with anyone. In fact, he kept everything to himself; in the beginning he’d even done that with Olivia. Perhaps the relationship had worked because she’d been the same—instead of getting angry and frustrated, they’d forgiven each other for any failures to be open.