When We Found Home

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When We Found Home Page 28

by Susan Mallery


  She walked over to the stack of bags by the entrance to the kitchen and grabbed two of them, along with a small wooden crate about two feet square.

  “I still have trouble believing any of what you’re saying. Not because you’re saying it,” she added quickly. “I mean the part about having money and a home. It’s new to me.”

  “I know, but it’s all true. You’re family.” A word he was becoming more comfortable with, he thought. “I wish I could have met your mom.”

  “Me, too. If she were still alive...” Her voice trailed off. “I would have liked her to know I wasn’t still screwed up.”

  “You were never screwed up. You made a mistake. There’s a big difference.”

  She set a half dozen stuffed dogs on the counter. They were cute and fluffy and made absolutely no sense.

  “I thought the theme was jewelry,” he said. “Where do the stuffed dogs fit in?”

  “They don’t. They’re going to be a surprise parting gift. They’ll be in the crate by the door when the girls leave. I’ll make a sign that says ‘Adopt a dog.’”

  “Nice.”

  “I hope Keira thinks so.”

  He capped the last bottle of polish. “I’m done with these. Have I earned my way into gluing?”

  “You have.”

  They both moved to the other side of the large kitchen table. Callie had already set out the plastic forks, knives and spoons, along with a glue gun and bowls filled with plastic gemstones.

  She pointed to the pile of plastic flatware. “Start at the bottom. Blue, yellow, pink, clear. Don’t burn yourself. Glue burns hurt.”

  “Don’t all burns hurt?”

  She slapped his arm. “You can be so annoying.”

  “No way. You adore me.”

  “Maybe. A little. On a good day.”

  An unexpected warmth seemed to fill his chest. It took him a second to realize it was affection for the blue-eyed blonde who was his sister. Somehow he’d gone from dislike to ambivalence to something a more self-actualized man might be willing to admit was very close to love.

  Damn—how had that happened?

  Without considering there might be consequences, he pulled Callie close to him. For a second, she resisted his embrace. Her arms hung stiffly at her side. Then she relaxed a little and hugged him back.

  They stayed like that for two, maybe three seconds before pulling apart. Malcolm felt foolish and uncomfortable, which kind of matched his sister’s expression.

  “Awkward,” she murmured.

  “But nice.”

  She glanced at him. Her mouth turned up in a smile. “Yes, nice.”

  “We’ll keep practicing until we get it right.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Me, too.”

  * * *

  Delaney arrived at The Grill a few minutes before her lunch date. She started to give her name to the hostess only to spot Chelsea waving at her from a table in the back.

  “I got here early,” Chelsea said with a laugh as they greeted each other. “Thanks for meeting me. It’s been forever since we’ve seen each other.”

  “I know. Time is slipping by.”

  Delaney took a seat across from her friend. When Chelsea had texted her a couple of days ago, she’d actually hesitated before agreeing to the lunch. She was still fighting a sense of unease—not with anything in particular, but maybe with everything. But now, as she started to relax, she wondered if staying isolated was only exacerbating the problem.

  Chelsea leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I say let’s be wild and have a glass of wine with lunch.”

  “I think that’s an excellent plan. How did you get the day free?”

  “Isaacs’s cousins are visiting. The ones that live in Virginia.” She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “It’s so sad how much they wanted kids, but she can’t have them or something and adopting is a nightmare because of his cancer. Anyway, they want to be with our kids 24/7 and hey, I’m not going to say no. We’ve always talked about sending them back East for a few weeks in the summer. We’re seriously considering it with the two older ones. We’ll see. This visit is a trial run.”

  “I can’t believe they’re that old already.” Delaney remembered when her friend had first been pregnant. She did the math in her head and realized Chelsea’s oldest had to be close to nine.

  “It seems like only yesterday that we were in high school,” Delaney admitted.

  “Tell me about it.” Chelsea motioned to the restaurant. “Remember when my mom would bring us here for special occasions? But it had to be extra special, like getting As or something.” She sighed. “Then, when we were teenagers, we would walk through the store and pretend we could afford to buy all the pretty clothes. Good times.”

  “They were.”

  Their server stopped by the table. They each ordered a glass of chardonnay.

  “I’ll have the Shrimp and Crab Louis,” Chelsea said.

  “The BLT salad for me.”

  “This is nice,” Chelsea said. “Remember when it was the four of us? You and Tim and me and Isaac? That was the best.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “Was it? Sometimes it feels like Tim was here just yesterday. Do you ever get that feeling?”

  Delaney told herself Chelsea didn’t mean anything by her comment, that there wasn’t a hidden message saying it was too soon to have her own life. But the words made her uncomfortable. They were familiar, as was the sense of being trapped. So many of her friends and neighbors had talked about him being such a huge part of her life. She’d been told over and over again that she could never find anyone like him.

  Delaney got that they’d been in pain, too, and she had missed Tim desperately. It was just, with him gone like that, she’d started to realize how stuck she’d felt.

  “It’s been eighteen months,” Delaney said. “That’s a long time.”

  “I know, but you started dating him in high school.” Chelsea sighed. “I guess it’s different for you. You had other things to distract you.”

  “You mean like my dad? That was so hard.”

  She shook her head. “I meant your job and your other life. Isaac and the kids are all I have. If I lost one of them, I would never get over it. I’d never be able to move on.”

  Delaney held in the need to snap that Chelsea had no idea what she would or wouldn’t do. That she’d never suffered on that level. She told herself that she wasn’t being judged, no matter how it felt.

  “You’re strong,” Delaney said lightly. “But I hope you never have to lose anyone you care about.”

  Chelsea shot her a look Delaney couldn’t read.

  “How’s school?” her friend asked.

  “Difficult. Good. I’m wondering if I’m doing the right thing. I’m less excited about being a doctor than I’d expected. I miss working for Boeing.”

  “So go back to it.”

  “I’m not sure it’s that simple.” Would they take her back? She would have lost whatever momentum she’d had in her career, but maybe she could make that up.

  “So you’re still not willing to be one of us,” Chelsea said, her tone light but her gaze sharp.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re not talking about finding someone and getting married, then popping out a few kids.”

  “Just five minutes ago you said I should feel like Tim is still with me.”

  “No, I didn’t. Why would you say that?”

  “Because that’s how it sounded to me. Like everyone wants me to stay in the past.”

  “You can do whatever you want,” Chelsea told her. “You always have.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Just that you’ve changed so much.”

  “Me? What about you?”

&nbs
p; “I’m who I’ve always been. The rest of us stayed in the neighborhood, got married and had a family. Not you. You had to go get your fancy degree, then a fancy job. Look at the car you drive. For that much money, I could add two bedrooms onto my house.”

  Delaney didn’t understand what was happening. “Why does my car have anything to do with your house?”

  “You’re different. Our dreams were never good enough for you.”

  Their server returned with their glasses of wine. Delaney ignored hers while Chelsea took a big swallow.

  “You always looked down on me for having kids so young,” she continued. “You treated me like I was stupid.”

  “That is so unfair.” Delaney noticed people looking at them and consciously lowered her voice. “It’s also not true. I never judged you. I wanted something different but that doesn’t mean I didn’t respect you or your choices. You’re the one who pulled away. You’re the one who stopped being my friend when I didn’t want what you wanted. You could talk for hours about being pregnant or having a newborn but you had no interest in me. You didn’t want to hear about my work or any of it.”

  “You didn’t love him anymore,” Chelsea said loudly. “We could all see it. You stopped loving him and you were going to marry him anyway.”

  Heat seared Delaney’s face and humiliation held her immobile. She tried to speak, tried to breathe, but she couldn’t. Several patrons looked at her, then glanced away.

  “He was a great guy,” Chelsea said, leaning toward her, her brown eyes bright with anger. “He loved you with everything he had, but it wasn’t enough. Not for you. And you know what’s ironic, because hey, even without going to college, I can still use ironic in a sentence. What’s ironic is all the time you wondered if he was good enough for you, we all knew it was the other way around. You weren’t good enough for him.”

  She tossed her napkin on the table and stood. “Go to hell, Delaney.”

  With that she turned and walked out. Their server walked up with two salads on huge plates.

  “Shall I box these up?” she asked.

  chapter twenty-four

  Malcolm watched the last of the partygoers head out the door. The afternoon had been a success. He’d stayed in the kitchen and out of the way through the event, but he’d been close enough to hear that everyone got along and that the theme had been a hit.

  “You and Callie outdid yourselves,” he told Delaney. “Thank you for all your help.”

  She gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She’d been quiet ever since she’d arrived and he’d had the feeling something had happened.

  For at least the third time he asked, “Are you all right?”

  “I didn’t want to say anything before, but I’ve had a headache all day. I guess I thought it would go away, but it hasn’t. Would it be all right if I gave Keira my regrets and ducked out of the family dinner?”

  “Of course,” he said automatically, even as his mind flashed back to all the excuses Rachel had given him throughout their relationship. There was always something going on, something she had to be doing. At the time he’d believed her. It was only when he caught her in bed with his father that he’d realized how much she’d been lying to him.

  Delaney wasn’t Rachel, he reminded himself. She was open and honest and he had no reason not to trust her. He’d avoided entanglements since the breakup, isolating himself too much. Someone wonderful had caught his attention and he wasn’t going to blow it by acting like a jerk. His issues were his business, not hers.

  “Let me drive you home. Carmen can follow in your car. It will only take a few minutes.”

  For a second he thought she was going to cry, but instead she moved toward him. He automatically pulled her close.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “You’re very good to me. I’m not sure I deserve it.”

  He lightly kissed her. “Of course you do. I’m sorry about the headache. I wish you’d said something before.”

  “I didn’t want to take away from the party. And while I appreciate the offer to drive, I’m okay.” She squeezed his arms before stepping back. “I’ll go have a word with the birthday girl, then slip out.” She paused by the door. “Call me in the morning?”

  “You call me,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to wake you if you’re sleeping in.”

  “Thank you, Malcolm. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  She headed upstairs for a few minutes. When she returned, she got her coat off a bench in the pantry, then walked out. He escorted her to the front door, kissed her again, then watched her leave. Something was wrong—he was sure of it. While he wanted to run after her and insist she tell him what it was, the more sensible section of his brain said to give her time. When she was ready to talk, she would.

  The decision made but not fully accepted, he joined Callie in the living room where the presents from the family were piled high on the coffee table as they prepared for round two.

  “Is Carmen still sulking?” Callie asked, her voice teasing.

  “She gave me a stern talking-to,” he admitted, thinking of how the housekeeper had scolded him for arranging for dinner to be brought in. “She explained that next time I was to ask before hiring a caterer.”

  He had a sudden thought that the women in his life were starting to confuse the hell out of him. “I was only trying to help. You and she made all the food for the party. I thought she might like a break.”

  “I know your heart is in the right place, but she wants to be a part of Keira’s birthday celebration.”

  “She is a part of it. She made the cake.”

  Callie flashed him a look that said he was incredibly stupid, then smiled. “If you say so.”

  “Women,” he muttered.

  “Men,” she said, mocking his tone. “Do you think they’re sleeping together?”

  Malcolm stared at her. “If you’re trying to distract me, you’re doing a good job. Do I think who is sleeping with whom?”

  “Grandfather Alberto and Carmen. Keira thinks they are and she knows stuff.”

  Mercifully, his mind went blank because those were not images he wanted to remember. “No. Just no. And we’re not asking.”

  “I wouldn’t ask. I just wondered. Carmen’s a lot younger, but our grandfather is still a vital, handsome man. It would be nice to think people still had sex at that age. You know, for when we’re older.”

  “He’s your grandfather. Grandparent sex is inherently uncomfortable to think about.”

  She grinned. “Technically he is my grandfather, but I haven’t known him long enough to feel the family connection. To me he’s just a lovely older man who may or may not be doing the wild thing with his housekeeper and best friend. You, on the other hand, are now overwhelmed with a vague icky feeling. My work here is done.”

  “You’re not a nice person.”

  Callie laughed. “That may be true. Now help me get the drinks. Everyone will be ready in a few minutes.”

  They went into the kitchen where the caterer and her staff were already at work. Keira had gone upstairs to put away the birthday presents her friends had given her and Carmen was with... Malcolm winced. Carmen was with his grandfather. Were they more than friends? Did he want to know?

  He carried a bottle of wine and four glasses into the living room, along with Keira’s favorite Lavender Dry Sparkling Soda. Callie brought in a tray with mini quiches on them.

  “I’m not sure Keira ate much at the party. There was so much going on. I know I’m starving.” She offered him the tray.

  He took a mushroom cheese quiche, then set the tray next to the drinks.

  Keira raced into the room. “That was the best party ever,” she told him. “I had a great time.”

  “I’m glad. Thirteen is an important birthday.”

  “I know. In three years I get to drive.”


  “Not something we’re going to talk about tonight,” Grandfather Alberto said as he and Carmen walked into the living room. “I want you to wait to grow up.”

  “I’m not sure I can help it,” Keira said, rushing to him.

  Malcolm did his best not to overmonitor his grandfather. So what if he was—

  He silently swore at Callie for saying something. Worse, he knew she’d done it on purpose—just to mess with him. They’d gotten to know each other well enough for him to see she had a wicked sense of humor and could certainly hold her own. She was fierce when necessary and she cared deeply about Keira.

  He knew she was seeing Santiago and he hoped that went well. Funny how when they’d first gone out, he’d been worried about Santiago getting involved with her. As time went on, he found himself more and more concerned about Callie instead.

  “We’d better get started,” Grandfather Alberto said. “You have a big pile of presents to get through and then we’ll have dinner.”

  Carmen glared at Malcolm. “Yes, I saw the caterer is here.”

  “I’m sorry,” Malcolm told her. “I will never hire a caterer again without talking to you.”

  Keira laughed. “You’re in big trouble.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Keira looked at the pile of presents. “That’s a lot,” she said, her smile fading a little. “Where do you want me to start?”

  “With mine,” Grandfather Alberto said, pointing to a huge box leaning against the coffee table. “I picked it out myself.”

  Keira knelt next to the box and began to tear at the paper. Malcolm had no idea what it was until she sat back and grinned at her grandfather.

  “For real?”

  Malcolm stared at the picture of a guitar on the box. His heart sank. That was going to be noisy and he was only a hallway from Keira’s room.

  Callie leaned close. “Stop looking so stricken. It’s electric and there are headphones.”

  “You’re starting to scare me with your ability to read me.”

 

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