by Jen Doyle
To be honest, it took Lyndsey by surprise. It had never really occurred to her that he would be worried about seeing Morgan. Or, rather, about seeing Lyndsey’s sister in the same way Lyndsey worried about spending time with Ian’s parents and kids.
As Lyndsey could have told him, however, it didn’t matter. No sooner had the door opened than Morgan flew at Ian, her arms wrapping around him in a bear hug as she practically screeched with excitement. “Oh, my God. Oh my GOD!!! It’s really you.” Grasping him by the shoulders, she took a step back, looked at Lyndsey while saying, “It’s really him!” and then went back to giving him another bear hug.
They had been close. Lyndsey had forgotten that until their phone call this morning. Lyndsey had always thought of it more as Ian just being nice to Morgan because he had to; she’d forgotten he’d actually become something much more, especially when it was clear their father had been too wrapped up in his new wife to have much interest in his daughters.
“You don’t understand,” Morgan was saying to Eddie, her fiancé. “This is utterly ridiculous. I love this man. He taught me to drive. He taught me how to shoot a three-pointer. He was like—”
Ian laughed. “Okay, okay. Not that I mind the flattery, but at least save it for when all of the kids are here and, uh…”
Except then he looked past Lyndsey to see that his kids were, in fact, there. Kate, Annie, and Liam were standing in the hallway not too far from the entry to the kitchen, clearly bewildered by the crazy woman hugging their dad. But, yes. Morgan had loved Ian—as did Tessa, as had Rob. It was why Lyndsey had run to Zachary when she’d needed to escape it all rather than go to any of them. Although they’d been unhappy on Lyndsey’s behalf, she’d always gotten the feeling there’d been more sympathy for Ian’s side than she’d wanted to be dealing with at the time. Sure they’d been hurt when he left, too. But although none of them had ever said so much as a word about it to her face, she’d always known they’d each wondered what exactly had happened.
“Well, hello, Ian,” Morgan said, punching him in the shoulder just as she’d done all those years ago. “You have actual offspring. Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
The kids clearly didn’t know what to make of Morgan, but within minutes of being introduced, they were all best buds. Morgan had just seen whatever big movie was out at the moment, and she’d read all the same books they had; she was 31 going on 15. And it didn’t hurt that Eddie was a video game developer who owned his own company. Between the two of them, they had the kids wrapped up around their fingers. Lyndsey couldn’t believe it, but she was actually a little jealous.
At the same time, it sure took a lot of the stress off Lyndsey and, as they all eventually headed up to dinner, she found herself more relaxed and content than she’d been in as long as she could remember. It certainly didn’t hurt that, upon coming out onto the roof deck, Ian held her back in the stairway as everyone else headed outside.
“Having you here tonight is…” His voice caught and it took him a minute to finish what he was saying. His hand went to her hair. “There’s nothing I want more.”
Other than a pathetic, You do? there was nothing she could think of to respond to that. So this time she was the one to pull him down into a kiss that she hoped held promise of what was to come later that night. Then she smiled and let him lead her outside.
5
Ian was quiet for most of dinner, preferring to sit back and watch. He had to admit, it wasn’t what he’d expected. Not that he thought Lyndsey wouldn’t cut it—he had no doubt she’d be fine. It was more that he was concerned this was too much exposure to his family too soon. Sure, Lyndsey had seemed into it; he wouldn’t have broached the subject if she hadn’t. Still, he’d been ready for her to get all jumpy, to start making exit strategies just about as soon as the salad was served. He’d been determined not to take it personally if she went with the quick getaway, figuring that no matter what happened tonight he was still light years ahead of where he was last time around. So far, however, it was going much more smoothly than he’d imagined: Lyndsey seemed to actually be enjoying herself, Morgan and Eddie were fully and happily engaged, his mom was loving it, his dad was happy as long as his mom was, and, if anything, Matt seemed to be getting a kick out of seeing the way Morgan was with both Ian and Lyndsey, happy to join in on the telling-stories-from-the-old-days game.
But, yeah, he’d expected this to fail—expected Lyndsey to fail. As much as he’d loved being with her throughout this past week—had even loved considering the idea of a future with her—deep down he hadn’t truly considered it a possibility. Kids were messy and families were hard. Why would she want to put in the time when there were a billion men out there who Ian was sure came with a lot fewer complications?
Yet here he was starting to think of her in a whole new way; in an actual day-to-day, maybe-this-could-work way. Seeing her with the kids tonight—thinking about her gamely playing flag football at Matt and Sarah’s last week and then taking that into the future.
He looked over at her as she leaned in towards his mother, complimenting her on the dinner. For a moment, he allowed himself to go with the idea that this was real. That it wasn’t a fling, it wasn’t just two people trying to rekindle something they’d once had. Or, to be more specific, hadn’t quite had. That, yes, maybe she really did want this—a true, actual life with him despite everything that entailed. Dance recitals and soccer games and spelling bees and little league fundraisers. Calling her because he was running late and could she pick up the kids from school.
Reality check, Fox. Lyndsey Daniels will never be picking your kids up from school, will never be chatting up the moms about chocolate bars for the Back Bay Bosox.
So, yes, maybe they were on surer ground than they had been all those years ago when the potential was there, but there was still too much living that needed to be done, too many experiences yet to go through. That didn’t exactly add up to happily ever after. Better not to get too ahead of himself no matter how on board she seemed to be.
As though to hit the point home, about three minutes after Ian sent his parents downstairs and the younger generations had begun to clean up, Kate’s voice cut through the heavy night air: “Where’s your wedding ring, Dad?”
In the middle of putting away the chairs, Ian just looked at her. She knew exactly where it was because she’d been with him when he dropped it off the week before. “At the jeweler’s.”
“Don’t you think it’s fixed by now?” Though Kate didn’t look at Lyndsey as she asked, she had positioned herself so it was impossible that Lyndsey wouldn’t hear her questions. “Or did you decide you didn’t need it anymore?”
Ian leaned back against the deck railing. The first question had been innocent enough on the surface of things, but with those last two she was obviously trying to start something, and he really didn’t want to go there. He might not have truly believed Lyndsey was in this for the long haul, but he hadn’t minded thinking about it. The last thing he wanted to do tonight was get into it with Kate.
That ship had clearly already sailed, however. Kate had a glint in her eyes that meant that no matter what he said, it would just add fuel to the fire.
It surprised him to have Jack speak up first. “Dad never wears his ring, Kate. It doesn’t fit right.”
That answer clearly didn’t satisfy Kate. She frowned. “He wears it when he goes away.”
For some reason, Jack didn’t let it go. “He has three whole days before he goes,” he said. “I’m sure he’ll pick it up before then. Won’t you, Dad?”
When did this nine-year-old kid become so insightful? Ian nodded.
“Kate,” Sarah said, depositing a stack of serving dishes into the girl’s hands. “Help me get these downstairs, honey. Liam, grab the door for us.” She practically pushed Kate through the door as she followed with another armload.
“Hey, Lyndsey,” Annie said as though nothing had happened. “Did Morgan tell you she’s going to ge
t Liam to teach her how to skateboard? She said it would be more fun than walking down the aisle. I don’t think there’s any church that will go for that, but you never know in Cambridge—they’re kind of kooky over there.”
What the hell was going on here? Since when did Ian have an entire team playing defense?
“You planning on just standing there?” Matt asked Ian. “Or are you gonna help us?” He nodded at the table he and Eddie were folding up as Morgan stacked the remaining chairs against the railing.
Ian glanced at Annie, who was still going on about Morgan’s wedding. Annie had mastered the art of talking someone’s ear off until they had completely forgotten anything they’d been thinking before she started. Though she may have gotten out of more than her share of groundings using that method, he had to admit he was grateful now. Especially because it seemed to be working—Lyndsey was completely caught up in whatever it was Annie was now discussing. Or, at least, she was willing to go along with it.
Feeling he should probably do something about this and yet having no idea what that something was, Ian reached down for a chair. “So, Morgan—you deal with kids every day. What am I supposed to say in that situation?”
“Oh, no,” Morgan laughed. “I am not getting in the middle of that one. I’ve been there a few too many times to be taking sides.”
“I’m not asking for you to take sides,” he said. “Just a little advice.”
Matt stood one of the tables up on its end. Folded up the legs with a snap. “There’s no way for you to win here. Just gotta ride it out.”
Gee, Matt. Thanks. “Remind me to call you next time my daughter is replaced by Mr. Hyde.” Or was it Dr. Jekyll? Didn’t matter. Matt got the point.
“That’s Mr. Hyde? Really?” Morgan asked. She shook her head. “Oh, Ian. You have led a sheltered life.”
Okay, yes. Ian knew how good he had it; they were great kids. But it wasn’t like they were the models of perfect behavior. Ian raised his eyebrows.
Rolling her eyes in a way that reminded Ian why he’d often thought of Morgan when Kate or Annie had done the same, Morgan said, “You do realize that up until now they’ve barely even gotten a chance to be teenagers.”
Ian put the last chair against the others and turned to Morgan. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugged. “Maybe they’ve been taking care of you. Making sure you’re happy. And with Lyndsey around it means they might not have to do that anymore. So, you know, development-wise, not a bad thing. Could suck for you, though.”
He had to admit, that got his back up a little. Not so much that Morgan seemed to know Lyndsey was the first woman Ian had brought into his kids’ lives since Abby; he had no doubt she would have ferreted out that information somehow. Morgan had always been pretty resourceful and Ian was fine with that. But it wasn’t like there hadn’t been years’ worth of therapy at any point during which one of the kids’ doctors could have mentioned something if that were, in fact, the case. He’d done everything he could to make sure their childhoods were as normal as they could be.
And yet as Ian was about to protest, he happened to look over to see Annie still engaging Lyndsey in conversation while Jack’s concerned eyes wandered to Ian, then to Lyndsey, and then back again.
Was that…? Had they really been doing that? And how would they have even realized she was that important to him? It wasn’t like he’d been talking about her non-stop. With the exception of the BBQ at Matt’s house last week, tonight was the first time they’d even really seen her. He looked at Matt. “How would they even know…?”
What she means to me, he’d been about to say. That she’d been his whole world, once upon a time, and if he gave her even an inch, he’d never look back again. But that was way too much to admit to anyone here; despite the past week he wasn’t even quite ready to admit it to himself.
But Matt didn’t need to hear the words. He gave a shrug that looked a lot more casual than Ian knew he felt. “You’re different around her,” Matt said. “She’s different. You guys together are, uh… It’s nice.” He looked over at Lyndsey and then back at Ian before smiling. “But don’t quote me on that.”
Would wonders never cease? Ian looked over to see Morgan smiling, too.
“Just saying,” she said. “Probably a load of bull.”
He couldn’t get Morgan’s words out of his head for the rest of the night, though. Not through ice cream sundaes eaten down in the kitchen, or through the good-byes after that. They’d grown up faster than other kids—that part wasn’t a surprise. Most kids got the luxury of believing their parents would always be there for them; his kids had no illusions on that subject. But maybe Morgan was right; maybe they needed some weight lifted off their shoulders. Needed not to feel so responsible. As he closed the door behind Matt and Sarah and their kids, he turned to Lyndsey. “So maybe tonight isn’t such a good idea after all.”
Damn, how he hated to say that.
She put her arms around his waist and leaned against him. She’d clearly gotten the same idea. “No. Probably not.”
He breathed her in, allowing himself to forget about his very unhappy daughter. Only for a minute, though. “Are you okay staying a little longer? Or should I drive you home now?”
“It’s up to you,” she said into his chest. “What do you want?”
She had to ask? “I want you here,” he said, his voice failing him for a few seconds as the thought of how much he wanted her pervaded his brain. He gave himself a few more seconds before adding, “But I need to do some damage control first.”
She nodded. “You think your dad would mind if I watch Sports Center with him?”
Ian laughed and shook his head. “Just don’t talk while they’re doing the baseball scores. He hates that.”
“Don’t worry,” she said, as they parted and she headed into the living room. “I still remember your teaching me all about the proper ESPN etiquette. No talking during the beer commercials, either.”
That, at least, put a smile on his face. He climbed the steps to the third floor.
A few minutes later, Ian knocked on Kate’s door.
“What?” came the muffled voice from inside.
Opening the door, he could feel his heart break when he saw Kate’s red-rimmed eyes. Annie was sitting next to her on the bed. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Do you care?” Kate spat out.
He bit back the ‘that was uncalled for’ speech. It would be so much easier, but so not the point. “Annie, I’d like to talk to your sister alone.”
Annie nodded and stood up, closing the door behind her as she left the room. Ian took her place on the bed next to Kate.
With a glare, Kate asked, “Is she spending the night?”
Well, okay then. Apparently they were going all in.
“No.” Clearly. And given this reaction, that was probably a long way off. Longer even than the whole thing was going to last, Ian would guess, although that wasn’t something on which he planned on dwelling, especially right now. “But I’m not ready to say good night to her yet.” He put his arm around Kate’s shoulder, wincing as she flinched; glad she didn’t shrug him off, however. “You don’t need to like her, Kate; but I want to see where this goes. She means a lot to me.”
Something in Kate deflated and her tension dissipated. Knowing it couldn’t possibly be that easy, Ian wasn’t surprised when, almost immediately, she started shaking. It seemed like a bit of an overreaction to what he’d just said, especially when the crying started in earnest. But then she said, “I miss Mom so much,” and turned into him, sobbing. “How is that possible? I barely even remember her.”
Fuck.
Ian had barely begun to work this all through for himself. How the hell could he possibly give her an answer that was even close to being right? Jesus. He wasn’t ready for this. Should have been—had no excuse to be so completely unprepared. And yet here he was.
“I know, Kate,” he said, trying to ignore
the catch in his throat. “I miss her, too. I always will.”
“I…” Kate’s voice completely dissolved into ragged breaths.
Ian pulled her closer, holding her tight and fighting to keep himself from going to the same place she was. “Sometimes when I think I’m losing who she was, I look at you. And I can’t help but think some part of her is living in you.” He kissed the top of Kate’s head.
“Kate...” He gently turned her chin so she was looking at him. “Lyndsey will never take Mom’s place. She doesn’t want to. I don’t want her to.” He pulled Kate back as she started to look away. “Having Lyndsey around doesn’t mean that the pictures have to be put away or that I’ll never wear my ring again or that we can’t talk about her anymore. It just means there will be a whole other set of stories to tell.”
“Right,” Kate said, not bothering to hide her lack of interest in that proposition.
“Call me crazy,” Ian said, letting go of Kate and sitting back against the wall. “But if you give her a chance you might even find out you like her.”
Kate sniffled. “That’s what Morgan said.”
It took everything Ian had not to smile. Of course Morgan would have gotten to them, too. “Well, then maybe you should listen to Morgan.” If she didn’t want to listen to him, at least.
Kate’s look clearly conveyed she wasn’t behind him on this one. “Morgan’s kind of biased.”
He shrugged and held up his hands in surrender. “I won’t force you. You can make up your own mind. Just try and start at neutral, okay?”
After a slight hesitation, Kate nodded.
Leaning over to hug her, he said, “See? You can talk to me about this anytime. No scenes required.”
She unhappily scrunched up her nose. “Nice way to get the last word, Dad.”
“I’m just saying.” He ducked as she threw a stuffed zebra at him.
“Good night.” Almost begrudgingly, she added, “I love you.”
He gave her a kiss and hugged her for a little longer than necessary as was evident from her fidgeting. He laughed. When something was over, it was over—no sentimental lingering. She took after Abby that way. “God, you are so like your mother.”