“Uh… four and a half years,” Evan provided while Matt chewed.
“So the kids are….”
“Mine. My wife passed away almost six years ago.” Evan’s voice was cool as he regarded Cornelia over the rim of his glass. Matt chewed faster, and Katie got a grateful nod when she handed him his drink.
Cornelia blinked. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said carefully. It was clear she wanted to ask more but didn’t know how to say “Then how did you end up with a dude?” for which Matt was eternally grateful.
Kent and Miranda were sitting to Matt’s left, and he watched as Kent moved uncomfortably in his seat. Miranda had a tight hold on his arm, but the tension between them was obvious. Any pleasure at Miranda’s plans backfiring on her now became sympathy—this kid had no clue what he was walking into, and it was probably tough to know his girlfriend had done it on purpose.
“So a nursery—interesting. What sort of stuff do you sell?” Matt asked, loud and diverting. “Like flowers and bushes?”
Blake leaped into the discussion of his business with both feet and embraced the change of topic enthusiastically. In the next thirty minutes, Matt learned everything he ever wanted to about the business of selling flora and what sort of trees would thrive in their front yard.
“I would be glad to draw you up a detailed plan,” Blake said before gulping down half of his wine.
“That would be so nice, thank you.” Evan glanced at his watch. “Maybe we should start getting things ready for dinner. Helena and Shane should be here soon.” Matt started to get up, but Evan raised his hand. “Miranda, why don’t you come help me?”
No one in the room could mistake that request for an actual question. Miranda unclenched Kent’s arm and stood up reluctantly, scuffing her feet on the rug as she followed Evan’s ramrod-straight back out of the room.
Matt exchanged a look with Katie, then turned back to Blake and Cornelia. “So lilac bushes for the walkway….”
Chapter 8
“I SWEAR to God, Miranda, I am so sick of your games.” Evan’s angry whisper exploded out of him as he turned on his daughter. They were in the kitchen, but the open floor plan meant they had to keep their voices down—not an easy feat since Evan was about to scream his frustration from the mountaintop.
“I don’t know—” was all she got out before Evan stepped into her personal space.
“You don’t know what? You didn’t tell Kent or his parents about Matt; you didn’t explain your family situation—why? So you could orchestrate an uncomfortable meeting? So you could embarrass me? All you succeeded in doing is upsetting your boyfriend—who you supposedly love.”
“I do love him!” Miranda’s face crumpled. “You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t know why you would try to cause drama for your family or your boyfriend or his parents. I don’t understand you at all.”
A flash of anger heated her face. “Yeah, we’ve established that.”
“Don’t start with the abandonment thing again, because it’s crap and you know it.” Evan’s voice started to rise. “I’m not going to continually apologize for my life choices to you. My God, Miranda, if your mother was here—”
Miranda’s expression went stone-cold furious, and Evan almost took a step back from her anger. “If Mom were here? If Mom were here, I’d have a normal family and a normal life, and I’d be introducing Kent and his parents to my mother and father, not my father and the guy he fucks.” Her breath caught as she swallowed a sob. “If Mom were alive, I would be happy, but what do you care? You replaced her. You’re fine. But some of us aren’t so lucky.”
The words dropped between them, lead weight and hate crashing through the floor. Evan’s heart stopped for a second, the vitriol behind her words causing him actual pain.
Because he had nothing to say to that. Sherri was gone, and he missed her every day, but he’d moved on to something else, something beautiful and real. But Miranda never had, and now the true depth of that was too naked in her expression to ignore.
“Miranda,” he started, his own voice breathless and fraught with emotion. “Your mother is gone, and I wish she wasn’t—”
“No, you don’t.” Miranda shook in her anger. “You’re lying. You have Matt. You mean to tell me if you could choose, bring her back or keep him, you’d pick Mom?”
This was the dangerous edge, the impossible question he never let himself ask. It had no answer because it would never happen, but still… still.
“There’s no real answer to that, and you know it,” he whispered, honest and true. “I can’t bring her back. That has nothing to do with Matt.”
Clearly frustrated, Miranda put her hands over her eyes. Evan touched her arm gently, but she flinched away.
“You don’t understand” was all she managed. She turned, ducked around the counter, and headed for the stairs. Evan started to go after her, his body registering “protective father mode” even as he knew he couldn’t ease this pain for her. He stayed where he was, rooted to the spot, a fist in his heart.
Chapter 9
“EXCUSE ME,” Matt said as soon as Miranda ran past and up the stairs. He gave Katie a glance as he stood up. She slid into his spot on the chair, her smile bright and animated.
“Did you guys have to go to school for that? To own a nursery?” she asked politely, and Jesus, Matt was putting so much extra money in her account next month.
He walked into the kitchen and found exactly what he was expecting: Evan standing in the middle of the floor, looking devastated and hopelessly lost.
“Baby?” It was a multitude of questions in one—Are you okay? Can I do anything? What do you need?—and Evan responded by pulling Matt into a tight embrace as soon as he was close enough. But even as Matt slid his arms around him, Evan tensed.
“What?” he asked, mouth against Evan’s ear.
Evan shook his head, clinging tighter, tension vibrating his entire body.
The doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it!” Elizabeth yelled, loud enough for everyone in the house to hear.
“Helena and Shane, I’m guessing, unless it’s the men in the white coats,” Matt whispered, stroking the back of Evan’s neck. “I’ll go say hey. You get busy with the food, and I’ll keep everyone out of the way.” He kept adding words, hoping that one of them would stop the shuddering of the man in his arms.
Evan nodded, clumsily pushing his way out of Matt’s embrace. When he looked up at Matt, his face was etched with grief. “I love you. You know that, right?” he asked, soft and sad.
“Of course.” There was no sarcasm there, not in that moment. Matt could feel Evan’s conflict and his retreat into bad memories and painful places.
They stood like that for a long second, a tableau of anxiety, until Evan turned away.
Matt paused but didn’t stop himself from leaving the kitchen.
As if by telepathy, Helena and Shane filled the quiet of the living room with happy chatter. Shane loved an audience, and he didn’t mind pulling out the “well, I’m a Broadway playwright” card for a new crowd. He told a few animated stories about opening nights and celebrity gossip, all of which reduced the tension in the room from code red to politely strained. Matt had never loved Shane more.
He refilled drinks and tried to be unobtrusive, even as everyone attempted to catch his eye for some silent communication.
What’s wrong? They all wanted to know.
He thought that was obvious, but maybe not.
Evan came out a half hour later to request the kids come set the table. Kent cast a look upstairs to where Miranda had disappeared, and a small part of Matt was irritated with his youth and indecision.
“Why don’t you go up and let Miranda know it’s almost time to eat,” he said finally.
Kent looked grateful as he cast a sideways glance at his parents, who didn’t seem all that impressed with Miranda’s disappearing act, judging by the pinched mouths and narrowed eyes.
&nb
sp; The younger generation scattered as Helena and Shane continued to try and brook some sort of conversation with Blake and Cornelia. Matt mostly stayed out of it, his attention diverted between the kitchen and the dining room.
“So, Matt, what is it you do again? Security?” When he brought his attention to Cornelia, she was staring at him, that same indecipherable look as in the kitchen.
“Security consulting.” He smiled, cool and businesslike. “I make suggestions for clients for their home and business security needs.”
He sounded like a brochure.
“Ah.”
“How are they doing? Bennett said you were out there a few weeks ago?” Shane leaned against the arm of the chair, his fingers tight with Helena’s.
When they all first met, Shane and Bennett seemed to have a… thing. Not too long after, Bennett was with Daisy, and Shane called Helena for a date. As far as that went, Matt asked zero questions.
“Yeah. Checked out the new house.” Matt shook his head. “It’s massive. I still don’t have enough cameras to start installation. They’re gonna have to wait till after the baby’s born.”
“Which I assume will be in Fort Knox,” Shane said, clearly amused. “That baby is going to make Michael Jackson’s kids look unattended.”
“You know he asked me to check out the hospital.” Matt glanced over at Blake and Cornelia, who were following the conversation. “Mutual friend. My main client.” They didn’t need to know his only client, thank you very much. “He’s a little overprotective of his wife.”
“I think it’s sweet,” Helena offered. She looked down at Shane with loving eyes and a sharp smile. “And if you ever went into that level of lockdown with me, there would be tears. All of them yours.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Shane snickered, lifting her hand to kiss the inside of her wrist. Helena blushed, and Matt let out a quiet hoot.
“Shut up, you.”
“Sorry, you two are just so precious and adorable,” he cooed. “I wish your mom was here to see this.”
“Ugh.” Helena untangled herself from Shane and stood up. “I’m going to help Evan whether he likes it or not.”
“No problem, I’ll tease you later.”
“I am carrying, just an FYI.” Helena put her hands on her hips, and Matt didn’t doubt she had her shoulder holster on under her cardigan.
“So am I. Whoop-de-do.” Matt wasn’t actually. His gun was upstairs in a lockbox. It didn’t occur to him until he glanced over at Blake and Cornelia how uncomfortable they might be with this conversation.
They looked absolutely horrified.
“Shoo. Go do helpful things in the kitchen. There’s a first time for everything,” Matt said quickly. Shane laughed, and Kent’s parents smiled uncomfortably.
Matt sighed inwardly. “More wine?”
Chapter 10
EVAN HAD everything in serving dishes and on platters. He had put Katie in charge of the salad because holding a knife didn’t seem like a good decision on his part at this point. He still felt wired and sad over his argument with Miranda, and still at a complete loss on how to talk to her about this. And how the hell to entertain these people, these strangers in the living room.
“Come on, Sherri. A little divine guidance wouldn’t hurt,” he whispered, feeling a stab of betrayal at invoking her name.
If someone offered him a time machine right now, what the hell would he do?
No, he knew exactly what he’d do. He’d go back in time and switch places with Sherri so she would live and he would die, because a coward’s retreat was his only answer to that King-Solomon-level decision.
“Daddy? Salad’s ready.” Katie was at his elbow, her eyes wide with concern. He felt a jolt of guilt for favoring her. It wasn’t Miranda’s fault she didn’t cope as well as her sister.
“Thanks, honey. Just put it on the table.”
“’Kay.” Katie waited, arms crossed over her bright blue sweater. It made her eyes shockingly vibrant. “Um, are you all right? Can I do something?”
Evan didn’t hesitate to take Katie in his arms and hug her tightly. She hugged him back, snuggling her face against his shoulder like she had when she was a little girl.
“There. That was exactly what I needed,” he whispered, stroking her long blonde curls. Over her shoulder he could see the wide-eyed stares of Danny and Elizabeth. Evan smiled as best he could, gesturing with one hand. “C’mere.”
When even Danny didn’t drag his feet, Evan knew this was necessary and clearly all his kids were stressing out over this. Elizabeth wrapped herself around his other side, with Danny squeezing between his sisters. Sometimes it was easy to laugh off Miranda’s antics, and sometimes it was a punch to the gut.
Group hugs—he was going to have to implement them more often.
“I wish Miranda was here too,” Elizabeth whispered, and Evan’s heart plummeted again.
“Me too.” Evan kissed each of them on the forehead in turn, murmuring “I love you,” three times. The hole in the circle was too prominent to pretend not to see—Miranda was difficult, and the family was more harmonious without her. But that wasn’t the way family worked—you loved everyone, even if they made it hard.
They stepped apart, each hovering for a second before going back to their tasks. Evan looked up to see Helena near the far counter, waiting quietly.
“You okay?” she mouthed, and he shook his head.
“Miranda?”
Evan nodded.
Helena clearly struggled not to make a face. She was of the “tell her to cut the shit out or else” school of thought and made no bones about it with Evan. He turned away to grab another set of spoons from the drawer.
“Can you tell everyone dinner is ready?” he asked, resigned.
“Sure.”
The trek into the dining room was filled with strained chatter and Matt directing everyone to their chairs. He put Blake and Cornelia across from Shane and Helena, the kids at the end where Evan sat, and left two seats next to him near the opposite end of the table.
Evan tried not to look at the empty chairs.
Cornelia and Blake exchanged murmurs, and she let out a loud huff. A second later she stood, her face tight. “Excuse me for a moment. I’m going to get my son.”
As she stormed away from the table, Blake shot Evan an apologetic look.
“So hey, everything looks great,” Matt said, clearly exasperated, as he sat down, already reaching for the bottle of wine closest to him.
“Delicious!” Helena added, all but thrusting her glass under the stream of wine Matt was pouring.
“Smells amazing.” Shane nodded, his handsome face stuck in a polite but horrified rictus. Evan pitied him; he assumed Shane was wishing to be in Florida, with Helena’s mother grilling him about his intentions.
From upstairs came the distant sounds of loud conversation, followed by two slammed doors, then a clatter of steps down the staircase. Evan tried to smile at Elizabeth, who was hiding behind her hair.
Cornelia appeared first, red cheeked, her hair no longer perfectly arranged. She sat down with a thump.
Matt filled her glass without comment.
Kent and Miranda slunk in next, looking anywhere but at the people at the table—and certainly not at each other. They sat down, with Kent closest to Matt and Miranda tucked between her boyfriend and Shane.
No one said a word.
“Someone should really say grace,” Katie said, so painfully dry that Evan had to stifle a laugh.
Matt didn’t bother.
“Kathleen, that should probably be you,” Evan chided, winking at his second born to make sure she knew he wasn’t mad.
“Righto.”
Everyone bowed their heads and clasped hands in the least religious display Evan had ever seen.
“Um… okay. Thanks to everyone that brought dinner to this table, and for family and friends, and being grateful for the people we love,” Katie said sweetly. “Even when they make us crazy.”
Matt coughed.
“Amen.”
“Amen,” everyone else said with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
Evan sneaked a look down the table at Miranda, but she wouldn’t turn her head.
And the platters began to make their way around the oval.
Polite, murmured conversation and the sounds of chewing, clinking, and clanging filled the room. Evan got up twice to refill bowls and platters, and Matt broke out three more bottles of wine. They shared a dozen or so lingering looks down the table at each other, each one progressively more desperate.
When Evan checked the clock and saw it was only six, he legitimately wanted to burst into tears.
“That was delicious,” Blake said, clearing his throat in Evan’s direction. “My compliments.”
“We used a fair amount of catering, but… thanks.” Evan tried to match the other man’s smile; he looked as nervous and anxious as Evan felt.
“Regardless. It was kind of you to host us.” Blake seemed to be gearing up for something. At his side, Cornelia didn’t look all that thrilled, and a quick glance at Kent relayed the same emotion. Maybe Blake was the only one who felt the need to be polite at this point.
“My pleasure.” Evan looked down the table at Matt and smiled. “Our pleasure.”
Miranda made a sound—something between a scoff and a sigh—and Evan’s blood pressure went through the roof yet again, but he didn’t react. No. Just took a sip of water and rearranged his napkin a few times.
A chair scraped, and Evan was surprised to see Kent standing up, his face pink and his mouth in a tight line.
“Excuse me for a moment,” he said, his voice tight. He left the table, back ramrod straight and shoulders bunched.
Cornelia was frowning, Blake was frowning, and Miranda’s face—devoid of color—raised Evan’s sympathies once again.
“You know what? I could use some air.” Matt pushed his chair back, smiling genially.
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