A Family Come True (31 page)

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Authors: Kris Fletcher

BOOK: A Family Come True
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“So this is where you decided to hole up.” She subjected him to a slow and thorough scrutiny. “You sulking or hiding?”

“Neither.” As soon as he said it, he knew it was a lie. “Maybe hiding.”

“Figured as much. Folks’ll be waking up soon. If you really want to lie low, this might be the time to head upstairs.”

No, thanks.

“That’s okay. I think I’m done with it.”

“You talking about now or the last two years?”

This time he knew enough to consider his answer before blurting it out. “Sometimes hiding is your best chance at surviving.”

“No one said it wasn’t. The trouble comes when you get yourself so hidden that you can’t find your way back again.”

His brain was too fogged to come up with an answer for that one. Not that he could have figured it out if he had been wide-awake, but it was as good an excuse as any.

He settled for sitting beside her. The glider swayed softly beneath them.

“We got our first glider when you were little,” she said. “Probably no more than four or five. For the first week or so it seemed every time we turned around you were out here. You would grab a blanket and hang it from the top to make yourself a little fort. You had this castle, and you would set it up here with all the knights and horses.”

“I think I remember that. There was a cannon on the top, right? That sent plastic boulders flying?”

“That there was.” A soft chuckle escaped her. “There was nothing quite like walking in here and hearing a little voice yell, ‘Fire in the hole!’ right before something hit the side of the blanket.”

“Wasn’t there another set like that? A Wild West town? I have this memory of plastic cowboys and a— I guess it must have been a saloon. You know, with the swinging half doors.”

“Right. Right.” Her voice lost some of its lilt. “That was Carter’s.”

And there it was.

“Ian...what I said to you yesterday, about blaming you if this family fell apart...that was wrong of me.”

If he’d had more energy, he would have been floored. Had Moxie just admitted to a mistake?

“I know you think we’re all sticking our nose in where it doesn’t belong. I can see why you’d feel that way. You’re wrong, but I still can see it.”

And the earth resumed its proper rotation.

“Taylor talked to me about it. Not about yesterday, so much, but back then. It helped.”

“But you still blame Carter.”

Did he? Really? Now that he had firsthand experience of the way love could sneak up and bite you in the ass when you weren’t looking, could he keep dumping the guilt on Carter?

“I guess I don’t really blame him,” he said slowly. “But I’m still angry.”

“That’s about what I figured.”

“I don’t know if I can forgive him.” He’d never said the words, barely even let himself think them, but something deep in his gut told him that if he wasn’t honest now, there was no way back. “It doesn’t make sense. I don’t love Taylor anymore, so why can’t I forgive him?”

“Because you’re not thinking about Taylor. You’re thinking about you. Carter betrayed you more than she did, and even though we all know it wasn’t deliberate, it happened anyway.” She patted his knee. “And brothers aren’t supposed to do that to each other.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, exactly. But here’s one thing I’m sure of. This silent thing with you trying to push it all under the rug and carry on like nothing happened...how’s that working for you?”

Crap.

“You ever think about not being right all the time, Moxie? Maybe letting the rest of us have a little secret superiority once in a while?”

“Nope. Suck it up and deal with it.”

As if he had a choice.

“Okay, then, Yoda. Answer me this one. My gut tells me that the mess with Carter and the mess with Darcy are connected, and not just because she set me up to be alone with him. The thing is, I’m not sure how they go together.”

Moxie was uncharacteristically silent for a few seconds. The soft creak of the glider and a sleep-whimper from Lulu were the only sounds.

“You done with trying to convince yourself that everything between you and her was make-believe?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. ’Cause you might have forgotten that my room is right underneath that nursery, and let me tell you, there were a couple o’ times I thought the only way I was going to get any sleep was if I headed up there with a can of WD-40.”

Could he be lucky enough that there was still sufficient darkness to hide his blush? Probably not.

“The thing is,” he said when he trusted himself to speak again, “when we got here, we weren’t, um—”

“You were still dancing around each other?” At his nod, she made a soft
tsk
ing sound. “I thought it seemed mighty suspicious. But I have been known to be wrong once in a millennium, so I thought I’d give you the benefit of the doubt.” She sighed. “I shoulda known better.”

“So why’d you put us in the same room, if you weren’t sure? Trying to force the universe’s hand again?”

“I’m a churchgoing woman. Does that sound like something I would do?”

Hell, yeah.

“Here’s what I think about you and Carter and Darcy and your gut. I think maybe you need to listen to it. Maybe what it’s telling you is that you have to fix the family you have if you want to have a shot with the one you want to make.”

“But what if I’m wrong? What if I wrecked everything?”

“Could you be any more miserable than you are now?”

“Probably not.”

“Then this is what I think about that.”

He braced himself.

“Surely a blacksmith knows that the only way to make things turn the way you want is to shove them into the fire.”

* * *

D
ARCY’S TALK WITH
Xander didn’t happen.

His quick run to the grocery store turned into a long afternoon of frustration when his car refused to start in the parking lot. Darcy had food for Cady, but Nonny’s pantry was sparse. By the time Xander got the car straightened out and made it back to the house, Darcy was well into the evening routine. Bath, bottle, blankie, boom—and Cady wasn’t the only one who was exhausted.

“I know I promised we’d talk,” she said as she wolfed down a grilled cheese sandwich. “But honestly, Xander, I don’t think I could even remember my name at the moment.”

His standing as a father went up about seventy points on her chart when he hesitated only briefly before nodding. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” she agreed, and showed him how to jiggle the temperamental handle in the bathroom before dropping into her bed. Her second to last conscious thought was that Cady’s father was sleeping in her dad’s room.

Her last thought was to wonder if Ian was alone in the bed they’d shared, reaching for her the way she already found herself reaching for him.

She slept the sleep of exhausted motherhood, deep and dreamless, and didn’t open her eyes again until she was pulled awake by the sound of Cady bellowing. She was glad for both the rest and the hours of not thinking. But snoozing late meant she wasn’t showered and dressed when Cady woke her, which meant she was already five steps behind all morning, which meant she was still in her nightgown, about to press Xander into duty, when Nonny walked in.

And with that first glimpse of the beloved tight silver curls and brick-shaped body, Darcy fell apart.

It was as though some giant permission switch had been thrown. One moment she was on the steps juggling Cady, and the next her head was buried in Nonny’s shoulder and she could scarcely breathe for the sobs clawing their way out of her.

Nonny was here. In some small corner of her brain she was aware that she had questions and confusion, but right now, Nonny was here.

At some point they moved to the sofa and sat down. She was vaguely aware of Cady pulling up on her knee and whimpering until Xander appeared, mumbled a rough “’Morning” and stumbled outside with her. With that she leaned into Nonny’s embrace and cried even harder, all while Nonny did nothing more than rub Darcy’s back and hand her tissues.

When Darcy was able to speak, she wiped her eyes and blew her nose and managed a choking kind of laugh. “Welcome home.”

“Believe it or not, it truly is.” Nonny’s groan as she patted Darcy’s hand and pushed herself off the sofa was the kind guaranteed to inspire guilt of the most extreme kind.

“I didn’t mean... I didn’t think I would...”

“Darcy Elizabeth, don’t you dare apologize for being human and needy.” She pushed the hair from Darcy’s damp face. “Believe you me, I’d rather have you crying all over me than ignoring me.”

“Oh.” Darcy squeezed the ball of damp tissues in her hand. “Nonny, before anything else, I’m sorry. I... When I told you I was pregnant, I got the feeling that you, well, didn’t approve. Because I wasn’t married, or, you know, even with Cady’s father. Not that I bothered telling you who he was. But don’t feel bad about that, because I didn’t tell anyone.”

“I don’t—”

Darcy shook her head. “Wait. The thing is...it didn’t really matter what you said or did. Because
I
was the one who was disappointed in myself and angry with myself. So when you didn’t fall all over me with excitement, well, it was a lot easier to tell myself that you disapproved than to admit that I was reading what I wanted into it.” She frowned. “Did that make any sense at all?”

“Enough for me to follow, even after flying across three time zones. And don’t you try to apologize about that, either, because I would have had to make the flight sometime. I would much rather do it knowing that you and my great-granddaughter were waiting for me.”

“I can’t believe I wouldn’t let myself turn to you for so long,” Darcy said as she wiped her eyes. “Of all the boneheaded things I’ve done...”

“It would only be boneheaded if you kept at it once you knew the truth.”

“You’re being way too understanding.”

“Darcy, these days, my friends are dropping like flies. I can’t afford to hold a grudge. There might never be time to make things right again.” She paused before adding softly, “That’s something better learned early than late. Not that I have any particular reason for mentioning it, of course.”

Darcy closed her eyes. “You talked to Moxie this morning, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. The minute we landed and I turned on my phone, it went crazy with messages. She gave me the whole lowdown.” Nonny cracked her familiar grin. “I have to say, much as I don’t like trying to keep up with all the gadgets and such these days, it’s mighty nice to be able to get the gossip while you’re still taxiing to the gate.”

It was the first laugh that felt real since she’d been in the kitchen with Brynn and Taylor.

“Come on.” Nonny headed for the kitchen. “I don’t know about you, but I could use some coffee. Didn’t dare drink any before I left the airport, ’cause then I woulda had to stop every half hour, but I’m way past due.”

“Sounds good.”

“Should I make some for— It’s Xander, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Too late, Darcy saw the situation through her grandmother’s eyes. “Nonny, you know that Xander and I never— Well, yes, once. That’s why Cady’s here, but we’re not together.”

“Breathe, girl. Moxie told me that part, too. I’m looking forward to really meeting him, but for now...” She peered through the window to the backyard. Xander lay facedown on the grass and Cady crawled over him. “For now, I think we’ll leave him be while I finish talking to you. So, what’s this about you and Ian telling everyone some story that turned out to be true?”

Even if Darcy had wanted to answer, she couldn’t have. Her throat tightened to the point where no sound could emerge.

Nonny sighed. “That’s about what I thought.”

She forced herself to breathe, hating the sound that accompanied her inhalation but unable to stop it. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Nonny looked slightly shamefaced. “Moxie and I might have had some thoughts about this when we told him to rent your apartment.”

“Wait. What? You were trying to set us up? When he had just been dumped, and I was still with Jonathan?”

“We weren’t trying to force anything. But the hope was always there. Not a big hope, mind you, but it was there.”

“I’m sorry we let you down.” Darcy bit her lip before moving to the stove and pulling out a frying pan. “I haven’t eaten yet. Have you?”

“I could use an egg. And who’s to say you let us down?”

This laugh was nothing like the last one. “Well, I’m here, he’s there, and after the things we said and did...”

“You mean you had your first fight?” Nonny sounded so completely not dismayed that Darcy had to double-check to ensure she’d heard right.

“I guess you could call it that. But we...” She pulled the carton of eggs from the fridge. “The thing is, I thought I knew him. Better than anyone else except maybe you and Mom and Cady. And then he went behind my back and told Xander he should live in the apartment—”

“And you’re upset over that? It sounds like a capital idea to me.”

“I— Okay. Now that I’ve had time to think about it, he’s right. It is. But he shouldn’t have done it without talking to me first.”

“Does he love Cady?”

“Absolutely.”

“Did you ever have a talk with someone and think of something and blurt it out before you should have?”

“Okay, now I really feel like an idiot.” She cracked the egg against the pan. Oops. One yolk, busted. “But it’s not just that. I’ve been thrown by everything that happened with Xander showing up, and I’m trying to put the brakes on, not to stop things but to slow them down. But meanwhile, Ian has been pushing me to accommodate Xander, and I feel like someone threw me in the washing machine and hit the spin cycle.”

“I can see how that would leave you feeling extra flustered. But here’s something you need to remember, Darcy. He grew up in that big family. He’s used to juggling lots of people and demands. You, not so much.” Nonny poured water into the coffeemaker. “Nobody’s saying you need to start moving at light speed, and when it comes to Cady, yes, you need to be cautious. But it might not hurt to take some lessons from him.”

Darcy stared at the eggs, her own misery snapping in time with the hot butter in the pan. “You’re saying I blew it.”

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