An Accidental Family

by Ami Weaver

  Lainey turned the car off and got out. On the plus side Grace, the cook, always put together fabulous meals, so she’d make sure she enjoyed that even while avoiding the bombs that were likely to be lobbed over the table. The front door opened even before she made it all the way up the carefully landscaped walkway.

  “Lainey!” her father greeted her in his big voice.

  “Hi, Dad.” She allowed herself to be drawn into a hug. Tall and trim, Greg Keeler cut a handsome picture with his dark, youthful looks, a perfect foil to Jacqui’s petite blond paleness. Even in their late fifties, they looked every inch the power couple they’d been for as long as she could remember.

  “Come on in. We’re in the family room.”

  He turned and Lainey followed him into the large room off the foyer, with its high ceilings, thick carpet and fireplace. While the outside screamed North Woods, inside the only concession to the house’s rustic roots were the thick beams soaring overhead.

  Lainey walked across the luxurious carpet, its velvety pile the color of cream, with nary a stain in sight. She tried to picture a baby crawling around in here and failed. Nothing about this room said family—even with the professionally shot family photos on the mantel. She vowed to make sure she raised her baby in an environment that was warm and welcoming, not precious and impersonal.

  Her mother perched on the edge of a chair near the fire. A manila folder lay on an end table next to her.

  “Hello, dear.” Jacqui rose and offered her cheek to Lainey, who came around the end of the sofa to place the obligatory kiss.

  “Hi, Mother.”

  “Have a seat.” Her dad gestured toward the sofa and turned to the mini-wet-bar. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  Well, no. I’m pregnant. She swallowed the words. That would get this little pow-wow off to a roaring start. In fact it might create stains on the carpet from dropped or flying liquor. “No, thanks.”

  He raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he mixed his drink quickly and took the seat opposite Jacqui.

  Lainey flicked her gaze between both of them. There was no reading her parents. Whatever they’d done, they wouldn’t be smug, since they’d consider it a necessary move. She might as well get it over with. “What’s going on?”

  Jacqui frowned a little. “Wouldn’t you rather eat first? Grace has a lovely roast chicken prepared.”

  Lainey’s shoulders tensed at the deflection. “I’d like to know what’s going on.” She looked at her father but his expression was unreadable. “Dad? Please?”

  He down set his drink—a screwdriver, no doubt. “Might as well cut to the chase. Lainey, we want to help you.”

  Oh, no. Her stomach lurched. She threaded her fingers together in her lap to keep from shaking. She kept her tone measured. “Help me how?”

  “With your little shop, honey.” Jacqui reached for the folder and the hairs went up on the back of Lainey’s neck.

  “My little shop? What have you done, Mother? Dad?” She heard the note of panic in her voice. She’d been safe, had rented the business from

  Esther Browning, what could they possibly—?

  Jacqui beamed. “We thought you’d be pleased to know we bought your building.”

  The room tilted a little and Lainey gripped the arm of the chair, struggling to focus on her mother’s clueless face. She couldn’t have heard correctly. “I’m sorry—what? Why?”

  “You’re having such a hard time getting this going, and Esther was worried about making ends meet. You know she needs the rent to live on, dear.”

  My parents are now my landlords. The realization swept through her, followed closely by rage. “I’ve never paid late. Not one single payment.” She bit off each word. If nothing else, she prided herself on that. She knew her elderly landlord depended on that income, and made absolutely sure those payments went out on time.

  Her father cut in. “Of course not. But there’s reason to believe you might have a hard time making them, so we thought this would help both of you out.”

  Lainey sucked in a breath. Poor Esther. The prospect of having the building all paid for, most likely in cash, must have been powerful. She’d done what was best for her, and Lainey refused to fault her for that.

  Keeping her voice even, she asked, “But you didn’t think maybe you should ask me? See how I’m doing?” Of course the documents would have been anything but reassuring, but still... Betrayal rose in her throat, the taste bitter, and she swallowed hard. Why was it too much for them to think to include her in the decision making?

  Jacqui looked surprised. Or would have if the Botox hadn’t been working so well. “Well, we already know how you’re doing. The whole town does. We’ve got your best interests at heart, dear. Always.”

  Lainey shut her eyes. How often had she heard that little line? When would it actually prove to be true? “How exactly does this help me?” She braced herself for the kicker.

  “Well, you won’t have the monthly payment anymore. We won’t make you pay rent. And you can live here now. We’ll rent out that little apartment.” Her mother sounded pleased, as if she’d truly solved a problem. Her father nodded in agreement as they exchanged a look.

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “No. I can’t live here.” How am I supposed to puke in private every morning? Hide my rounding belly? Raise my child here? Panic seized her and she jumped up as her father’s phone rang. He checked it, and rose.

  “I’ve got to run. Lainey, we’ll talk more later. But for now we feel this is the best thing for you.”

  He kissed her cheek and strode out of the room. Lainey stared after him, floored because both of her parents seemed to think this was a done deal and hadn’t bothered to truly consider her. “Why did no one ask me? Has no one noticed I’m an adult? I’m not moving back home.” Where she’d go, she didn’t know. But it wouldn’t be here.

  Jacqui set her snifter on the table. “Of course you are, dear. That little place isn’t good for you. We’ve got plenty of room. We can remodel your suite if you’d like. Daniel agrees you should be here.”

  Lainey whipped around so fast she nearly got dizzy. “He has no say in my life. None. We’re divorced, remember?”

  Jacqui leaned forward, her gaze earnest. “You were wrong, Lainey. He loves you and he’s willing to give you a second chance. What is so bad about that? Now you don’t have to struggle anymore. We’ve taken care of it.”

  Lainey stared back. Her mother really believed it. She could see the sincerity in the other woman’s gaze, hear it in her voice. They didn’t understand it was Lainey’s problem and she wanted to be the one to solve it—or not. That had been the whole point of taking over the shop—to make it work by herself. Now the choice was gone.

  She lifted her chin and met her mother’s expectant gaze. “I’m not coming home.” Each word came out crystal-clear and Jacqui’s eyes widened. “I’m happy where I am. I love my job, my shop. My apartment. I’m not going to give it up, give you control of my life, because you can’t accept I’m an adult and haven’t chosen the path or the man you wanted for me.”

  Jacqui frowned. “Lainey, please be reasonable. You needed help. We gave it to you.”

  “Yes, but at what cost to me?” Despair rose and Lainey fought it back, preferring anger. There was really only one option here, since she wasn’t going to walk away from the shop she loved. “What do I have to do to get it back?”

  Jacqui sat back. “Pardon?”

  “I want it back,” she repeated. “I’ll buy the building flat out from you. And you’ll have to completely butt out of my life.”

  Jacqui frowned, as if this wasn’t going the way she’d planned. “I don’t think—”

  Lainey stood up, the words she should have said years ago boiling out of her. “I’m not letting you force me into this. And there’s no hope for Dani
el. You have no idea what my marriage was like. None. I’d hope you’d want better for me, even if it’s not what you would have chosen.” She picked up her purse with shaking hands. “I’m going, Mother. I’ll find somewhere else to live. And don’t worry. I will make those rent payments on my shop. They will be on time. I’m never late.”

  Pulse roaring in her ears, she walked away before Jacqui could say anything else.

  * * *

  The nerve. Lainey pulled over a couple of miles past the house and sat for a minute, tears of rage pouring down her face. The nerve.

  Poor Esther. Lainey hoped they’d at least given the woman a fair price. But while apparently not above blackmail, her parents weren’t cheats. One small thing in this whole mess to take comfort in.

  What she needed was a plan. One that could get her the money, and the time, to solve this herself—which was all she wanted. Just to prove she could do it—run a business, be successful on her own terms without any help from her family.

  To show them she wasn’t a screw-up, but just as worthy of being a Keeler as they were.

  She fished a napkin out of the glove box and wiped her face. Crying wasn’t going to solve anything. She put the car back in gear and headed for the public park at the lake. She’d spent many hours here as a kid, and later as a teen when she’d needed space. Sure, there was a private beach at her parents’ home, but the park had swings and a playground, now upgraded to a fancy plastic playscape. They’d kept the old metal merry-go-round, her favorite thing in the park.

  The gathering twilight and chilly breeze off the water ensured the park itself was empty, though a couple cars parked nearby indicated joggers still out on the loop that ran next to the water.

  Lainey pulled the hood of her jacket up and settled on a swing. She scuffed her feet in the wood chips, then backed up, ready to swing. Back and forth she went, pumping her legs, stretching out in the swing until her hood slid off and her hair fell in her face when she leaned forward. The moon hung over the quiet lake, full and incandescent, a bright star to its left. Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. A small laugh escaped her, followed by more tears. She’d gone way beyond childish wishes, even if as a kid she’d believed in the power of the first star. The tensions of her parents’ betrayal slid away in the stinging wind, into the encroaching darkness. Finally she stopped pumping, let herself glide through the cool evening air, slowly coming to a stop.

  A motion to her left caught her eye and she turned her head.

  Ben Lawless sat on the merry-go-round, watching her. Her belly clutched. Oh, no. What was he doing here?

  “Did it work?” Despite his low tone, she heard him clearly.

  Caught, Lainey forced herself to meet his gaze. “Did what work?”

  “The swinging. The tears. You looked like you were trying to get rid of something.”

  She tilted her head so it rested on the chain. No point in denying it. She didn’t want to. “For the moment, maybe.” Though the ache under her heart hadn’t gone away.

  Her parents had bought her building. She squeezed her eyes shut as another wave of betrayal washed over her. How had she not seen it coming?

  When she looked back over at Ben he stood up from the merry-go-round, gave it a small shove with his hand. It wobbled in a slow circle. “For the moment?”

  Lainey scuffed her foot in the wood chips. Was that an opening for her to talk, no matter how reluctantly issued? She almost laughed. Where would she start? With her parents? With her baby? With her ex-husband? With the father of said baby? “I don’t know. Can we not talk about it?” The very thought of trying to explain the twisted mess her life had become exhausted her.

  Ben laughed—a quick deep flash that sent tingles though her body. “As long as we don’t talk about me.”

  His grief-stricken face flashed across her memory. “Deal.” She hopped out of the swing and her balance shifted a bit. No doubt an effect of her pregnancy. She started toward the water, simply needing to move.

  She was surprised when Ben caught up to her. He walked beside her, his arm almost brushing hers. Even without the contact she could feel the heat from his big body as hers seemed to be way too tuned in to him.

  This was bad.

  Distracted, she stumbled a bit on the uneven sand. He caught her arm—pure reflex, she was sure—especially because he let go of her almost as soon as he touched her, as though she’d burned him somehow.

  “Careful,” he said, his voice low.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, keeping her eyes on the ground. His scent, a yummy mix of soap and fresh air, drifted over to her. She curled her fingers into fists and shoved them in her pockets so she didn’t do something stupid—like reach for him and bury her face in his chest.

  Even as the urge confused and scared her she knew Ben wouldn’t lie to her, use her, or treat her like a wayward child. Even with his secrets, he came across as sincere in a way she so wanted to believe in.

  Except she was done with believing.

  They stopped when they reached the lake. The water was almost mirror-still. Perfect for skipping rocks. When was the last time she’d done that? The moon was bright enough that she could see pretty well, so she started to hunt for flat stones. She didn’t look at Ben, but could feel him watching her.

  Strangely, not talking felt right. She didn’t feel she needed to fill the night with chatter—after the bombshell her parents had laid on her that was a good thing—and he seemed to be quiet because he was more comfortable without words.

  She picked up a rock—a flat disk, smooth and cold in her hand. She lined up and let it fly over the still water, counting twelve skips. She couldn’t resist a little fist pump. She still had it after all these years.

  “Not bad.” Ben fingered his own rock. “My turn.”

  “Good luck,” she said politely. She’d always been a top-notch rock-skipper. One of her many under-appreciated talents. She couldn’t smother a small sigh. No doubt her mother would be appalled.

  His rock flew over the water. Thirteen skips.

  “Hmm.” Glad for the distraction, Lainey narrowed her eyes when he turned to her, eyebrow raised. “I can beat that.”

  A small laugh escaped him and he looked surprised at the sound. Her heart tugged. Had he really gone so long in sorrow he’d lost laughter?

  He leaned toward her, not close enough to touch, but close enough to see the challenge in his eyes. “You’re on.”

  His warm breath feathered over her cheek and her little shiver had nothing to do with the chill in the air. “Good luck,” she said again. The words came out a little husky, and she turned away quickly to look for more rocks. What was wrong with her? What was it about Ben Lawless that drew her in? It was wrong on so many levels. She was pregnant, for God’s sake. And her life was a mess. There was no room for a man. Especially one with issues of his own.

  * * *

  It took everything Ben had not to ask why she’d been crying. The tracks from her tears were dry now, but even in the light of the moon he could see her beautiful blue eyes were red-rimmed. An unwelcome protective surge caught him off-guard and left a sour feeling in his stomach.

  He couldn’t protect anyone. He knew that. But tonight he’d been drawn in by her obvious distress. Since she was a friend of his grandma’s it had seemed wrong just to walk away until he knew she was okay.

  Yeah, that was all it was. A favor to Grandma.

  Riiiight...

  Choosing to ignore his inner voice, he let his gaze follow her as she searched for rocks along the water’s edge. The moon’s light turned her hair to silver as she lifted potential candidates, weighed them in her hand, then discarded some and slipped others into her pockets. That unfamiliar smile tugged at his mouth. She took this seriously. He’d do the same.

  He picked up a few rocks of hi
s own and was ready when she came back. Determination sparked in her eyes. He swallowed hard. “You ready?” If she noticed the rasp in his voice she didn’t show it.

  “I’m ready. I’ll go first.”

  She stepped forward to the edge of the water and Ben allowed himself to admire her slender figure as she let the rock fly and stood, as if she were holding her breath, until it sank, leaving an expanding ring of ripples on the water’s surface.

  “Ten skips.”

  “Not bad.” He moved up next to her. “But let me show you how it’s done.”

  He was rewarded with an eye-roll. He bit back another grin.

  He took his turn and after nine skips she turned to him, her glee barely contained. “That’s how it’s done?”

  In spite of himself he laughed again, the feeling foreign after so many months of not being able to. It felt—good. But scary, too. Here in the moonlight, with a beautiful woman who wanted nothing from him, playing a silly game, he was almost relaxed.

  Back and forth they went, and after six stones each Ben sent her a look. “This is it. Winner takes all.”

  She arched a brow and pulled out her final stone. “Really? What does the winner get?”

  “Bragging rights.”

  “Good enough.” She pulled out her final stone and readied herself. She let it fly and Ben watched it, counting the skips until it sank.

  “Fifteen skips.” Triumph filled her voice. “Beat that, Ben.”

  He took his turn and they both watched as his rock sank after twelve. “You win.”

  She did another fist-pump. “Yay. I like to win.” Then frowned. “No offense.”

  He shook his head. “None taken.” He hesitated. “Better?”

  She nodded, but he saw the shadow that fell over her features. “Yes. Thank you for staying.”

  He turned with her to walk back. “No problem. You’re my grandma’s friend.”