by Ava Miles
He was nodding. “I’m going to tell my rational mind to take a hike and simply say thank you. I know what I want to believe.”
She kissed his cheek. “Good plan.”
“Now,” he said, turning on his side so they were facing each other, “why don’t you tell me about what happened between you and your mom?”
Her mouth parted. “Who told you? You mother?”
“She’s the one spending the night at my house to give us some extra time together,” he said, giving her a knowing look.
“Oh.” She’d assumed someone was babysitting, and it made sense April would have interceded after their earlier discussion in the kitchen.
“Yeah. Oh.”
“It wasn’t pretty,” she began. “I was trying to get rid of all my negative energy before I came over. It was…taking a while.”
Talking about the fight pretty much erased her earlier sensation of floating in the clouds. Plunging to earth again sucked, and her nerves were stretched tight again by the time she finished.
“Are you going to tell me it wasn’t one of my better moments?” she asked.
“Would I do that?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Yes.”
“But gently, I’d like to think.” He rubbed her arm. “So you both said some pretty tough things to each other. What do you plan to do about it?”
She’d thought about that all afternoon. Of course, she’d been mad enough to want to throw things and cheer as they shattered. But that didn’t exactly make her feel proud or mature, and really, it was her heart that was shattering. That was nothing to cheer about.
“My mom doesn’t like me,” she whispered, feeling the pain spread to her bones. “And I don’t like her. I know that’s a terrible thing to say, but it’s true. I’m not even sure we love each other anymore. Otherwise, how could we have said those things to each other?”
His sigh was heartfelt. “I’m not saying it’s the same situation, but sometimes I think that way about my dad too.”
“You mean the asshole who didn’t treat your mother right?” she asked in an impassioned voice.
He gave her a bland look, but his eyes wrinkled with humor.
“So I might still have a lot of anger inside me,” she explained, not that she needed to.
“Good to see you’re not repressing it,” he said with a wry smile. “I don’t know what to tell you, Luce. I do believe your mother loves you. She just doesn’t love you like you want her to.”
How was that love? “She doesn’t see me. Not for who I really am.” She punched the pillow in defeat. “And that means she’s loving some version of me that I’m not. That’s why she gets so mad when I don’t live up to her expectations. I’ve thought about little else since she stormed out. She thought I came home because I finally decided my career was too dangerous—something she’s been saying for years.”
She waited for him to comment, but he didn’t.
“And in coming home, she hoped I’d go back to being some silly girl who only wants to experience the fun side of life.”
“You were never a silly girl,” Andy told her, cupping her face. “You organized a student protest to raise awareness about female genital mutilation when we were juniors in high school.”
Yes, she had. “I forgot about that. I read about that happening in Sudan in U.S. News & World Report. At first, I didn’t even know that was anatomically possible. Then I couldn’t believe it was happening. I mean, who would hurt women and girls like that?”
“Bastards,” he said, gazing at her seriously. “I could name other protests you organized. What about that film from France—?”
“On human trafficking in Russia,” she said, nodding. Goodness, she’d forgotten about these moments.
“Lucy, you were always trying to change the world for the better, even when you were living here in Dare Valley.”
“My mother didn’t like it then,” she said, putting the final pieces of the memories together. Arthur had always encouraged her to pursue her interests, especially after her fights with her mom.
“And yet, your mother organized a breastfeeding fair because she was angry that women needed to hide a natural function in public.”
She gave him a look. “Are you trying to say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?”
He returned the look.
“You’re pissing me off,” she said without heat. “I want to be right here. Dammit! I want my mother to be wrong. Oh God, I’m a terrible person.”
“No, you’re not,” he said, tapping her on the nose. “You’re human. I want my dad to be wrong. I want to say he’s the biggest jerk out there for not loving my mother enough and for not fighting for her when she asked for more. I want to punch him and tell him he’s not a man for letting her walk out without a word.”
“Now who’s angry?” she asked, blinking at the force in his voice.
He blew out a breath. “I don’t want to believe my mother did anything wrong. She’s one of the most amazing women alive.”
“But it takes two to tango, as Arthur Hale always says.”
“Yeah.” Now he sounded as down in the dumps as she did.
She curled up against his chest again. “I don’t know what to do. My mom won’t listen to me. I’ve never seen her this mad before. And it doesn’t change the fact that she hates the three photos I’ve selected for the calendar so far.”
“I happen to like the ones you’ve taken so far,” he said. “In fact, I’d like you to send me the photo you took of me when I was thinking of Kim. It’s…I want Danny to see it when he’s older. I was scared to have him see it before, but now…I think it’s the kind of thing he’d love to see.”
“I’ll send it. Andy, when it comes down to it, I think my mom’s right. Someone else should take the photos instead, someone who understands their importance. What about your sister?”
“Moira?”
“Yeah,” she said, mulling over the idea. “Her questions might have freaked me out at Jill’s photo shoot, but she does know her stuff. Plus, she’s here right now, waiting to hear about the job at the Artemis Institute. Maybe I can help her touch up the photos behind the scenes or something.”
“It’s a reasonable idea, but it won’t solve the overall problem between you and your mother,” Andy said quietly.
“I’ve tried to talk to her before,” Lucy said, feeling defensive. “Why do you think I finally blew my top today? All the pressure of not being listened to reached its max. I felt like I’d turned into a volcano.”
“I could make a joke about being familiar with your molten heat, but I’ll refrain.”
She punched him, making him grunt. “You know what I mean.”
“I do,” he said, kissing her on the check. “Let it settle a bit more. Maybe my mom will help Ellen see some reason.”
“Somebody needs to,” she said, “because not even my father has been able to all these years. He called me this afternoon, and he sounded more worried about us than ever before. Not that I can blame him. But my dad accepts and loves my mom as she is, flaws and all. What am I missing here? Am I letting my hurt feelings color everything?”
“Big questions. Ones for you to sit with.” He made a face. “But if it makes you feel any better, I love you and I see you.”
Crap. How had she gotten so lucky? “I know you do. You always have, and I’m grateful for that. Andy…” Her heart was growing again, and she took a big breath to grow with it. “I love you to pieces, but somehow, the words never seem big enough for what I feel.”
Oh, the smile that spread across his face: a touch of heat mixed with an extra measure of love. She was a goner.
“How about we leave this for now, and you let me love you to pieces again?”
She climbed on top of him and smiled down. “How about you let me love you to pieces back?”
As she did, she became one giant heartbeat.
Chapter 27
Andy finally gave into his gut
urging to go see Ellen during his lunch hour the next day. Sometimes when his siblings were at odds, he’d been able to broker a peace. He didn’t see why Lucy and her mom would be any different.
Besides, he kept coming back to the photo Lucy had taken of him after she’d asked him to think about Kim. She’d sent it to him on his way to work. Seeing how he looked when he thought about the wife he’d lost had changed him. Perhaps explaining that to Ellen would help her see Lucy’s side of things. Deep down, he knew she needed to take the photos for the calendar—not just for herself, but for the future of her relationship with her mother.
Last night, Lucy had begrudgingly admitted Ellen might not be completely wrong, or her completely right. Common ground had been forged on lesser things.
When Andy knocked on the front door, Harry opened it.
“Oh, hi,” he said awkwardly.
“Lunch break?” Harry asked, clapping Andy on the forearm in solidarity when he nodded. “Ellie’s in the backyard. Good luck. I’ve gotten nowhere with her.”
His gut urging turned into an upset stomach. “That sounds ominous.”
Harry made a fist in the air. “That woman. I love her, but I swear sometimes… How’s my girl?”
Andy hadn’t expected that question. Heck, he hadn’t expected Harry to be home. “She’s upset too. Wishes things were different.”
“When Lucy was growing up, I was the sole peacekeeper in the house,” Harry said, making a face. “It’s nice to have help.”
Yeah, that was him. Peacekeeper Andy. Part of him wished he’d worn a suit of armor or something. Ellen was going to blast into him. And knowing Lucy, she wouldn’t be all that happy to hear he’d come here.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Andy said, coming inside when Harry stepped out of the way.
“I’m heading to my bar. If you need a drink afterwards, there will be one waiting for you.”
“That’s kind of you, but I have to get back to the hospital.”
Lucy’s father grabbed a jacket from the hall closet. “After, then.”
“I’m going to spend some time with Danny.” He’d texted his mother a picture of himself making a funny face, wanting to make Danny laugh before he left for school. “My mom babysat last night so I could talk to Lucy.” There was no way he was mentioning he’d spent the night with her.
“April was here this morning after dropping Danny off at school, so I know the score,” Harry said, picking up his wallet and keys from the wooden bowl in the hall table. “Ellie didn’t listen to your mom either.”
Terrific. Harry and his mom were batting zero with Ellen. How was he supposed to do better? “It’s about more than the calendar.”
Harry’s mouth twisted. “Always has been. Well, your next drink in my bar is on me, and if you get my girls to reconcile, you have a free pass on anything I serve for a year.” With that, Lucy’s dad left.
Andy felt a little weird walking through the house on his own, but when he opened the patio doors, that weird feeling morphed into red-hot embarrassment. “Sorry, Mrs. O’Brien!” he cried out the moment he saw Ellen—all of Ellen—in the bubbling hot tub. He was so shocked he’d reverted to calling her Mrs. O’Brien like he was twelve. “Harry didn’t mention you were…ah….” Sweet Jesus, put me down right now.
“Good heavens, Andy Hale!” Lucy’s mom called back. “You’d think you’ve never seen a naked woman in a hot tub before. Besides it’s not like you can see anything anyway.”
If that’s what she thought, she’d never seen her cleavage. He was going to have to wash his eyes out with soap or something.
“I’ll just wait inside for you,” he said, bumping into the patio doors.
“No need,” she called out. “You can talk to me here. If it bothers you so much, don’t look.”
Right. That was a good suggestion. “I’m just going to turn around now.” And stare at the wall.
“You’d think you wouldn’t be so embarrassed. One, you’re a doctor. Two, you’re sleeping with my daughter. This is what you have to look forward to.”
Not in a million years was he going to go down that track. “Could we please talk about why I’m here?” he asked. Okay, pleaded.
“Dammit, I look good for my age!” Ellen railed on, confirming that she was more than riled up.
“I’m sure you do,” Andy said to placate her. “I’m here about Lucy. I wanted to show you a picture she took of me after she arrived.”
“Well,” she barked out. “Come over here and show me.”
His insides shriveled. He’d have to get closer to the hot tub. “Ah…could you please meet me inside to talk about this? I…don’t want to drop my phone in the water.” There. Genius.
“I’ll bend over the edge and put my hands out,” she responded. “Don’t be bashful, Hale. It's nothing you haven’t seen before.”
Why did people always say that? He had a license to practice medicine—not ogle naked people.
“Mrs. O’Brien, I’m really going to have to insist you put on a towel or robe.” He was going to hold his ground.
There was a grand huff behind him. “You really are a prudish man, aren’t you? I hope Lucy knows about this. Given how strong she is in her opinions, it might concern her that you’re uncomfortable looking at naked people.”
There was a small boulder in the garden to his right, and he had the sudden urge to bash his head against it. Was this what Lucy had to deal with? No wonder she’d lost her cool. Maybe he should just go.
“All right,” she called out. “I’m decent.”
He turned around, eyes half mast in case she was lying. She was wearing a short red kimono that skimmed her knees. He’d call it progress.
“Well! Are you coming over here or not? I’m growing cold here. I’m wet in some places.”
“Coming.” Anything to escape from this lamebrain conversation. Matt was going to laugh himself silly when he told him about it.
“I know you and Lucy have your opinions about things,” he said, “and I’m not here to get into that.” He’d grown up with three sisters, so he knew better. “But I wanted to show you this picture and tell you what it did for me.”
She grabbed her purple reading glasses from the picnic table. “Better not be one of those boudoir photos.” Then she barked out a laugh. “Not that I could imagine you posing for one after all your fussing about seeing me in the hot tub.”
He was so not going to mention the mind-blowing sex he’d had with her daughter last night. Three times. But he was tempted. God, she brought out the devil in him. “No, it’s this one.”
After drawing out his phone, he punched in his code and brought the photo up on screen. She peered closer before taking it from him.
“You look sad!” Ellen declared, thrusting it back at him. “And no wonder. I swear, I don’t think my kid can take anything but sad photos of people. In fact, I’ve concluded after talking to her yesterday that she’s flat-out lost her funny bone. And I’m sad for her. Laughter is what makes life worth living.”
Andy wanted to shove his phone in his pocket and storm out. But he loved Lucy enough to stay and defend her. “Your daughter is one of the funniest women I know. She can laugh in the face of life’s conflict and suffering in a way you rarely see in people, and I cherish her because of it.”
Her brows rose all the way to her hairline. “You’re really in love with her, aren’t you?”
“You’re darn right I am,” he said, his voice rising. “Lucy hasn’t lost her funny bone, and I’m sorry you two can’t set aside your differences enough to see each other. This photo she took captured my face when I was thinking about Kim.”
“That’s twisted,” Ellen said, frowning. “You’re dating!”
“It’s not twisted,” Andy said, his breath coming out hard now. “Your daughter has no problem letting me talk about Kim or how much I’ve missed her or how much I loved her. She never stops me from feeling what I feel.”
Ellen’s eyes narrowed to da
ngerous slits. “Are you saying I don’t?”
He pulled himself back from that argument. “I’m saying that when I saw this picture of myself, I understood what my son must see when I talk about his mother. It made me sad to see it at first.”
“That’s my point!” Ellen said, thrusting her hand into the air in frustration. “No one needs those reminders. The past is the past, and dredging it up is a mistake.”
“It’s not a mistake. This picture helped change my mind about that. Sure, it captured my loss, but it also captured the love I had for Kim.”
She looked about ready to smack him upside the head. “Of course it did, you numbskull. Kim was your wife.”
He was bungling it. “You’re not hearing me. This picture captured the love I still have for her—even though she’s gone—and that’s…well, that’s a beautiful thing to remember. For me and my son.” So much emotion was coursing through him, he had to take some deep breaths to steady himself.
“I still don’t understand you. Did you need reminding that you still love Kim? Were you feeling guilty about being with Lucy?”
“This was before I started dating Lucy, but that’s not the point,” he said, pushing the phone under her nose. “This photo showed me I’m living with the love and the loss. This is what Lucy has captured for Jill and Rhett and Old Man Jenkins. She is capturing that life goes on, yes, but we still love them and miss them and wear silly costumes to commemorate them.”
Ellen stared at him and then slid her glasses down her nose. “You know. I think you’re as half-cocked as she is.”
That did it. “Then you don’t know your daughter for who she really is. If you could see her the way I do, you’d know she is one of the most amazing, powerful, loving women on the planet. I thought medicine was tough, but Lucy makes that look like baking a cake. And if you knew how hard this calendar is for her and everything she’s gone through to make it happen…”
He broke off, horrified. Ellen grabbed him by the forearm, and for an older lady, she had the grip of wrestling champion.
“What in the world do you mean by that?” she barked out.
He was dead meat. “Nothing. Trying to compromise her vision to work with you has been hard on her.”