A Sinclair Homecoming (The Sinclairs of Alaska)

by Kimberly van Meter - A Sinclair Homecoming (The Sinclairs of Alaska)

  Morgan frowned. George Founder? He had to be at least sixty years old. “I know of George and I think he’s a little old for me.” What was her sister thinking? Did Mona actually think she’d consider a man so much older than she as a romantic possibility? Morgan would’ve been mildly offended if it hadn’t been coming from Mona. “I do like a man who is a fair bit younger than sixty.”

  “But he’s a spry sixty,” Mona insisted. “It’s not as if he’s wheeling around in a wheelchair. Besides, he happened to mention that he’d seen you around and wondered if you would like to go to dinner.”

  She was on the radar of George Founder? She didn’t know whether to be flattered or embarrassed. “He’s not my type,” she said, hoping to put an end to this conversation. “When I’m ready to date I’ll let you know, I promise. But I just can’t right now. Besides, I don’t have time to date. I have so much going on in my life with my job and my clients and putting this house up for sale that I just can’t even think about dating.”

  “You’re selling the house?” Mona asked, surprised.

  Morgan cursed her slip of the tongue. She hadn’t told her family yet that she was listing the house. She couldn’t live in it a single moment longer. It was like a prison, more so than it ever had been when David was alive. His ghost was everywhere and she refused to live in it anymore.

  “This house is gorgeous. It’s probably the nicest house in Homer. Why would you want to sell? Are you having financial problems?” Mona’s faint note of alarm was likely self-centered but Morgan didn’t fault her for it. She ought to let the woman worry a little, though, she thought with a small hint of sisterly pique but instead, she forced a little light laughter to ease Mona’s fear that Morgan’s checkbook might slam shut.

  “Why does there have to be a problem for me to want a change? No, to answer your question. I don’t have financial problems. David made sure that I was taken care of. But if you must know, it’s very hard to live here and not see David around every corner.”

  That was the absolute truth. Except unlike what her sister envisioned, Morgan saw the opposite.

  Sorrow followed as Mona nodded. “You poor thing. I can’t even imagine. Here I was thinking that being in the house would be a comfort but I could see how it could be the opposite. Why didn’t you put the house on the market right after he died?”

  “Good question. I’m not sure. I think I was in shock for a long while and then I thought that having the house would be a comfort but it’s been three years and I realize now that it’s time to make a change. So I’ve listed the house with one of the Realtors here in town but it hasn’t gone live yet, so it’s not on any actual listings.”

  “I’m sure the house will sell. It’s very well taken care of and it’s just beautiful.”

  “Yes, but my Realtor has said that we’re still in a down economy and people aren’t buying high-end homes right now so there’s a possibility that it might sit.”

  “Well, it’s not like you have to be out. You can afford to wait for the right offer, right?”

  Morgan nodded. She didn’t want to wait. She’d be willing to take a loss if she had to. Some nights she was so desperate to be free of this giant monstrosity that she was half tempted to give it away. But if she did that people would start questioning why she was so eager to be free of it. No one knew about that night, not the true events. All anyone knew about were the fictitious events that she’d made up, and she was done with that secret following her around, lurking in the shadows of this cursed house.

  “If I had the money I’d buy it,” Mona said wistfully. “But I can hardly afford ramen. Speaking of, I hate to ask this, especially in light of our earlier conversation but can you spot me a couple hundred bucks?”

  Morgan wasn’t surprised. Mona always needed money. “How much?” she asked, reaching for her purse.

  “Four hundred would be nice but I could make do with three.”

  “Sure. Is this a loan or a gift?” Morgan looked at her sister with a raised brow. “Let’s just call it a gift,” Morgan decided. “I don’t want to be chasing you around town for my money. But in light of this, now I have to gently insist that you start looking for something to supplement your income.”

  Mona accepted the check and tucked it into her pocket. “Given the fact that I just accepted money from you, I guess I have to listen to your advice. Yes, I realize I probably need a second job. But I’m not excited about it, and please don’t tell Mom and Dad that I got money from you. I catch enough grief from them as it is.”

  “They’re just worried about you.”

  “Well, they can stop worrying. It’s not like I’m a drug addict or anything. I’m an artist, that’s all. I like to create things. I like beauty and metaphor and seeking a deeper meaning in things. I want my life to mean something. Why is that so hard to grasp?”

  “You can still do all of those things and hold a job that pays your bills. I hate being the bad guy here but I’m not looking forward to the prospect of supporting you for the rest of your life. I’m not having money troubles but there may come a day when I’m not flush. Clients don’t always pay on time, this house is very expensive to maintain and David’s life insurance will run out one of these days so I would like to know that my baby sister isn’t living on the street if I can’t give her a little bit of money now and then.”

  “I’ll never be on the street,” she said. “Besides, if worse came to worst you and I can at least get an apartment together.”

  Morgan shuddered at the thought. “Oh, hell, no. I remember sharing a bedroom with you and you’re a terrible roommate.”

  Mona scowled. “Okay, fine.”

  “Just think about the job, please?” Morgan smiled, wishing she had her sister’s verve for life and her thirst for meaning in her life, even though she could be a bit of an irresponsible mooch at times. “Listen, I won’t tell Mom about the money you borrowed if you won’t tell our parents about my putting the house on the market. I know I’m going to get a bunch of protests from them. Particularly from Dad because he might call it foolish to let go of the house that I own for emotional reasons.”

  “Sure. Your secret is safe with me. I got your back.” Mona paused, then surprised her by going back to her original topic. “Can I please set you up with George?”

  “Mona,” she groaned, irritated. “I already told you—”

  “Yes, yes, I know and I’m sorry but here’s the thing, I kinda already promised him that you would probably go to dinner with him.”

  “And why would you do that?”

  “Because George wasn’t going to let me into the gallery without the promise that I would ask you out for him.”

  Morgan stared at her little sister. “Are you kidding me? I definitely wouldn’t go out with someone who would use that type of extortion to get a date. That really doesn’t say much for his character.”

  “No, no, no, no, he’s a really good guy. I’m sorry it came out that way. He really is a good guy but he’s intimidated by you, I think.”

  “Intimidated? I’m the last person who would intimidate anyone.”

  “That’s not true. You’re highly successful, beautiful and you’re very independent. Men can be very intimidated by those qualities in a woman.”

  That’s how her sister saw her? Talk about living a lie. “I don’t know, Mona—”

  “Please just give him a chance. One date. That’s all. And then you can walk away and I won’t feel like I reneged on a deal and everyone is happy.”

  Morgan made a sound of exasperation. “You know who’s not happy? Me. I don’t want to go on a date with this man. I feel like I’m being forced into it through emotional blackmail. Which I don’t appreciate, by the way.”

  “Duly noted. And I really appreciate this. You’re the best sister ever. And who knows, you might really like him. And y
ou know they say the first act toward making a change is taking a leap of faith.”

  “Please don’t. I will go out with this man on one date. A dinner. And then I never want you to put me in this position again. Are we clear?”

  Mona nodded, solemn. “I understand. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have but I am in a pickle.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You’re always in a pickle, Mona. That’s nothing new.” Morgan couldn’t help the frustration in her voice. “Why was it so important that you get into this gallery? I’m sure you could’ve gotten into a dozen other galleries on your own steam.”

  “You have no idea how cutthroat it is out there in the art world. It’s all about who you know, not just about your art. You have to network and Facebook and Twitter and mingle and do all these things that I don’t want to bother with. I just want to get my work on the walls of somebody’s gallery without constantly kissing ass to make it happen. It’s exhausting. Who has time to actually make art if you’re so busy mingling?”

  “Yes, the world has been taken over by social media,” she mused in agreement. Remy lived on Facebook, often when he should be working. His excuse was that without his involvement in social media, Morgan would never know what was going on in the world. She sighed and asked, “Why was this gallery so important?”

  “Well, I was hoping this one particular art critic would take a liking to my work and possibly feature me in this magazine for artists. But as it turned out, my style wasn’t her cup of tea so she didn’t write something very flattering about my work.”

  “So basically you traded me for no gain?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t know that at the time. Besides, you need to get out more. Life is about more than just work and sleep.”

  “What am I going to do with you?” Morgan buried her head in her hands. “You make it so hard to be on your side sometimes.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

  Well, at least Mona didn’t dispute that fact. “I hate to cut this visit short but I’m pretty tired. I have an early client tomorrow morning and I still have notes to go over.”

  Mona nodded and then gestured at the cheese plate. “You mind if I take this with me? Kind of ‘ramened out’ right now. I could use some protein.”

  Morgan nodded. “Yes, take the cheese and crackers. Would you like to look in my pantry to see if there’s anything else you’d like to take home?”

  Mona allowed a tiny smile. “If you wouldn’t mind...”

  “I don’t mind.” She stood and hugged her sister. “Just leave me the chocolate chip cookies. Anything else is fair game.”

  “You’re the best. I really mean that.” Mona kissed Morgan on the cheek. “I really hope that you meet someone as great as David again. You deserve it.”

  Morgan’s smile froze but she managed to nod. “Well, we’ll see.”

  Good God, would fate be that cruel? It was the one thing Morgan feared more than anything.

  Please, don’t let anyone like David in my life ever again.

  Perhaps it was her sister’s talk about dating or maybe she was just tired after a long day but Wade popped into her thoughts, momentarily blotting out David.

  If she were looking to date—and he wasn’t her patient’s son—Wade might be the kind of man she’d like to enjoy an evening out with. Strong, smart and ruggedly handsome, Wade was a man who would make any woman take a second look. She withheld a wistful sigh when she reluctantly allowed reality to intrude. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t trust the knowledge of her past with anyone, much less a potential date. She had to protect her public persona at all costs. There was no way she was going to allow David—or the threat of his influence—to derail another moment in her life. Was it lonely? At times. But then she remembered the pain, the humiliation, and the fear of living with David, and suddenly, being lonely wasn’t that bad.

  So dating? Not even a blip on her radar.

  Which meant Wade—that hunky mountain of sexy potential—would remain forever out of reach for her.

  But a girl could dream, right?

  As long as dreams never became a reality.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “SO TELL ME about California,” he heard his sister say before she stuffed a bite of her steak into her mouth. He realized he’d only been listening with half an ear to his sister’s conversation and he grimaced when she realized the same. She graced him with a scowl that he deserved and he started to apologize but she cut him off. “Come on, you have to at least make an effort, Wade. I’m trying to do eight years of catching up within one dinner, all the while trying to steer clear of topics that are triggers for us both, and you’re making me do all the work. At least make the effort, okay?”

  “I’m sorry, sis. I’m being a jerk. There’s a lot of stuff running around in my head.”

  She nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I get it. Being home is hard after a long time away, I would imagine.”

  “Nothing’s changed,” he said, allowing his stare to wander the small steakhouse. “I remember our parents used to take us here on special occasions.”

  “Which wasn’t very often because feeding four carnivore kids steak dinners was hard on the pocketbook,” Miranda quipped around her next bite.

  He smiled. “I always loved this place, though. Made me feel important whenever we came to eat here.”

  “Important? Why?”

  He chuckled at his nostalgia. “Because when it first opened it seemed all the bigwigs ate here. I remember Mayor Gibbons used to eat here all the time and the Masons used to gather here for their monthly meetings.” He shrugged when he realized his own childish reasoning didn’t actually make much sense. He returned to her original question. “California is good. I’m very happy. My job is very fulfilling and I can’t wait to get back.”

  “Wow, impersonal much? I’m not interviewing you for a job position. Relax. I want to know about the real California. I mean, Delainey’s told me a few things about Los Angeles but you’re on opposite ends of the state, way up in the mountains. I’m sure that’s gotta be different.”

  “It’s vastly different. I personally don’t care for Los Angeles. I’ve had to go there a few times for meetings with other federal park officials but I much prefer my neck of the woods. You ought to come visit sometime, and bring Talen and Jeremiah. Speaking of Jeremiah...when do I get to meet this guy?”

  “Oh, now you want to be the big brother?” she teased. “You’ll meet him. Don’t worry. You do plan to come to the wedding, right?”

  He didn’t want to make promises but he’d sound like a real jerk if he didn’t agree to come to his sister’s wedding. “Of course, if I can get the time off. I’m using up a lot of my banked personal time right now for this impromptu trip.”

  “Right. Well, you have some time to pencil that date in so I’m not too worried. What do you think of Morgan O’Hare?” she asked, somehow zeroing in on the topic that he’d just been thinking about when he’d zoned out. “You probably don’t remember her from school but she actually knew Simone. Well, not her, exactly, but her sister.”

  “That’s not saying much. I think everyone knew Simone.”

  “That’s true. She did have a way about her, huh?” Miranda paused and then said, “This whole situation with Mom has hammered home the fact that none of us has really dealt with Simone’s death. It doesn’t seem right that it’s been eight years and yet none of us has accepted the fact that it wasn’t our fault.”

  He shifted in discomfort. He hated talking about Simone. “Not to be rude but I’ve moved on just fine. I miss her every day. She was a great kid but like you said, it’s been eight years. It’s time to move on.”

  “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you have not been home since she died,” Miranda pointed out gently. “I think we all know why you’ve stayed away.”

  “
I thought we were going to avoid touchy subjects?” he reminded her with a slight smile. He didn’t want to pick a fight with his sister over dinner. And he also didn’t want to talk about the things that kept him up at night. “Do you think Morgan O’Hare can be objective in Mom’s case? I know she was assigned the case by APS but I wonder if we can make an appeal to get someone else, maybe someone from another town to do the evaluation.”

  Miranda frowned. “What’s wrong with Morgan? I like her. She seems nice. Although maybe we’d be doing Morgan a solid by requesting someone else,” she said wryly. “Mom’s not exactly a peach to be around. Especially now.”

  Yeah, he hated to admit it but Miranda was right. He’d never seen their mother so eaten up with bitterness and pain and she didn’t hesitate to take it out on whoever was closest.

  “Simone’s case was such a polarizing event in this town. I just wonder if we would be better served if we brought in someone who had no connection whatsoever to Simone.”

  “I don’t think it’s right to hold that against Morgan. I believe she can be objective. Besides, if APS had concerns, they wouldn’t have assigned Morgan the case.”

  “We have one shot to make this work with Mom. If we make one wrong move, she’s going to withdraw and shut us all out.”

  “Um, hello? Have you not seen how she’s treating us? She’s already shut us out. So I don’t think it could get any worse.”

  “It can always get worse.”

  “Ugh. I’d forgotten what a stick in the mud you can be.” She tossed a tiny crumb of bread at Wade’s head. “I think you’re being foolish. Sorry, but that’s just dumb. Morgan is highly qualified to handle Mom’s case and not to mention, she specializes in this sort of thing. Mom is not the first hoarder she’s ever had to evaluate.”

  Wade winced. He hated that term hoarder. When he heard that word, he envisioned someone far worse than his mother but then, he couldn’t deny that his mother’s house had been pretty disgusting. “Fine. If you think she’s qualified then I’ll let it go. It was just a thought.”