A Forever Kind of Family (23 page)

“And what’s Jim doing now?” she asked, naming her friend’s husband.

“He’s managing a resort in Naples.”

“Isn’t that on the other side of the state?”

Paige nodded. “He moved there after the divorce, almost three years ago.”

“I’m sorry—I didn’t realize you weren’t together anymore.”

Her friend shrugged. “It wasn’t a particularly acrimonious split. It just turned out that, after five years together, we realized we didn’t even like one another all that much.”

While Harper was glad that Paige wasn’t torn up over the demise of her marriage, it seemed sad to her that a couple who had exchanged vows could walk away from one another so easily. Sad but not really surprising, since it demonstrated a cavalier attitude similar to that demonstrated by her own parents.

Maybe that was why when Ryan suggested marriage to strengthen their case for permanent custody of Oliver, she hadn’t really balked at the concept. Their marriage had been entered into for a specific purpose and without any illusions about happy-ever-after. If the marriage stopped working, for whatever reason, she expected they would simply part ways.

It was only now that she realized she didn’t want a temporary marriage—she wanted a forever family, like Ryan’s family. And she wanted Ryan and Oliver to be part of that forever family.

When she got back to her hotel later that night, she tried to focus on the interview that was scheduled for the following morning. She was excited but not worried, and while she believed she was ready for the challenges and capable of doing the job, she was no longer certain she wanted it.

She tried to sleep, because she knew she shouldn’t go into the interview with shadows under her eyes, but it was too quiet. She was accustomed to hearing the sounds of Oliver rustling in his crib through the baby monitor and the steady rhythm of Ryan’s breathing from the pillow beside her.

She hadn’t talked to him since she’d walked out of the house Friday night. She’d texted to let him know that her flight had landed and then again when she was checked into her hotel, but she hadn’t actually spoken to him since she’d left Charisma. She thought about calling, just to hear his voice, but the way they’d left things, she wasn’t sure he’d want to talk to her. And she’d rather not talk to him than risk an awkward or uncomfortable conversation. At least, that was what she’d told herself when she’d been tempted to pick up the phone Friday night and again Saturday night. But now she missed him so much she was almost desperate for the sound of his voice.

She looked at the clock beside her bed. It was nearly midnight. She knew it was possible—probable, even—that he was still up, but she didn’t want to call now in case he was sleeping.

She sent him a text message instead.

Just wanted to say good-night to you and Oliver. xoxo

His response came before she’d even set her phone back on the nightstand.

we miss u lots sweet dreams xoxo

It wasn’t quite as good as hearing his voice, but it made her feel a little better. She put the phone aside and tried to fall asleep.

* * *

She got another text from Ryan before she left the hotel the next morning.

break a leg

Short and simple, but somehow Harper knew that those three words represented so much more. It wasn’t just that he was wishing her luck—it was confirmation that he wanted her to succeed because it was what she wanted.

He’d been nothing but supportive of her career, and she realized now how completely unfair it had been to suggest that he wouldn’t want her to pursue this opportunity. It had been equally unfair to make her plans without talking to him first. She’d been so focused on her own wants she hadn’t considered anything else.

And while she could and did regret the way she’d handled the situation, she realized that she’d needed to take this trip without him. She’d needed the time and space away from Ryan to realize how much she didn’t want to be away from him.

She walked into WMBT on Monday morning confident that she’d done her research on both the station and its head. The website photo showed Annette Grantham to be a serious-looking woman with short dark hair, intense blue eyes and a firm, unsmiling mouth. She’d worked in television for thirty-four years, had received numerous industry awards and been nominated for countless more.

In person she was just as serious and direct—and a lot shorter than Harper had expected. About five-three, she guessed, with lots of energy packed into her compact body. She walked fast and talked even faster through a quick tour of the studio. She knew the names of every single studio employee, from casting directors to key grips to janitorial staff. But even more impressive was the obvious respect that each of those employees had for her.

The more time Harper spent there, the more her interest was piqued.
Mid-Day Miami
was a high-profile show offering a significant increase in salary commensurate with a new title and responsibilities and a production schedule that wouldn’t require her to get out of bed when the sky was still dark.

It was everything that she wanted—except that it was in Miami and Ryan and Oliver were in Charisma.

If the job was offered and Harper turned it down, she could wait years before she saw another similar opportunity—if she ever did. But the thought of spending even a single day of those years without her husband and the little boy they both loved... She couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to do it.

She shook Annette Grantham’s hand and thanked her for her time.

“I’ll be in touch before the end of the week,” the senior VP of development promised.

“I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

It wasn’t yet eleven o’clock when Harper walked out of the building, but the Florida sun was high in the sky and the air was already hot and sticky. She was looking forward to the return flight to Charisma with a much lighter heart than the one that had come here. Because she knew without a doubt now that she was in love with her husband, and at the very first opportunity, she was going to tell him so.

Chapter Sixteen

H
arper intended to call Ryan from the airport, to tell him that she was on her way home, but he called her first.

She suspected that he wanted to hear about her interview and was surprised when he didn’t even mention the purpose for her trip to Florida. Instead, he said, “I don’t want you to worry,” which, of course, immediately caused her to worry.

“What’s wrong?”

“There was a situation at the day care.”

“Is Oliver hurt?”

“No, he’s fine. But Aubrey showed up there today and told the supervisor that you’d sent her to pick him up.”

“Ohmygod.” Harper’s knees buckled and she sank into an empty chair inside the departure lounge, her heart pounding and her head spinning. “They didn’t let her take him, did they?”

“No,” he hastened to assure her. “Because she wasn’t on the approved list, they called me to ask if it was okay.”

She felt sick to her stomach thinking about what could have happened if the day care had released Oliver to Aubrey. Would she have run away with him? Taken him to another country to live under an assumed name? She knew the possibility was far-fetched, but it did happen.

Harper pressed a hand to her churning stomach. She’d found Aubrey’s determination to gain custody of her nephew a little extreme, but she’d trusted that the woman would abide by the judge’s ruling. The possibility that she might try to take Oliver against the explicit orders of the court had never crossed her mind.

“Is Oliver with you now?”

“I’m less than ten minutes from the day care,” he told her.

She was grateful that he was, because she was in Florida, eight hundred miles away. She was suddenly and painfully aware of the distance, and she felt completely helpless and terrified.

“I’ll call you back in a little while so you can talk to Oliver,” Ryan suggested.

In the background, she heard the gate agent announce the start of boarding. “I’m going to be on a plane in a few minutes,” she told him.

* * *

Harper felt marginally better after talking to Ryan.

When she was buckled into her seat on the plane, she texted him her flight information and estimated time of arrival at home. He didn’t reply. She kept her cell in her hand, waiting, hoping, for a response, but there was nothing. Her throat was tight as she set her phone to airplane mode, knowing that every minute that she was out of touch was going to feel like an hour, that the two-hour flight would feel like forever.

Unable to receive any communications from Ryan, she tried to console herself with the reassurance that he’d gone to the day care as he’d promised and Oliver was safe with him by now. But she really needed to see him for herself. She needed to see both of them.

She checked her phone again for a message as she left the Jetway, and her gaze was so intently focused on the screen of her phone that she nearly walked right past them in the arrivals area. Then she heard her name and she looked up—and saw them.

Ryan and Oliver.

Here.

Real.

Safe.

She couldn’t speak. There were no words—there was only emotion. A huge overwhelming wave of emotion—gratitude, relief, joy—that swept over her.

Then Ryan’s arms were around her, warm and strong, holding her close for a long time.

“You didn’t text me back,” she finally managed, the words muffled against his chest.

“I forgot my phone in the car when I went in to get Oliver,” he admitted. “And by the time we left the day care, I knew your plane was already in the air and decided you wouldn’t believe that he was safe until you saw him for yourself.”

“You’re right,” she admitted.

“And he is—safe and secure and where he belongs. With us.”

Oliver was also sandwiched between them, and he began to squirm against the constraint of their embrace. Ryan reluctantly let go of her and shifted the little boy to her arms.

She hugged Oliver close and kissed the top of his head, while Ryan stroked a hand over her hair, as if he needed the physical contact to prove to himself that she was there. She understood the feeling.

“Can we go home now?” she asked.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

* * *

Home was chaos.

Oliver had fallen asleep in the car but woke up as soon as Ryan pulled into the driveway. Then Coco went nuts when they walked through the door, dancing around between their feet and yipping happily.

“Is it good to be home?” Ryan asked.

She smiled. “You have no idea how good.”

They took the baby and the puppy out into the yard and let them run around to burn off some energy. Ryan dropped onto the grass and pulled her down beside him. She was still wearing the linen pantsuit she’d donned for her interview with Annette Grantham a lifetime ago, and she knew that she’d end up with grass stains on the butt, but she didn’t care.

She tipped her head back against Ryan’s shoulder and smiled, watching Oliver chase Coco for a few steps; then Coco would turn around and chase Oliver. And in that moment, her life was pretty much perfect.

“I didn’t even ask,” Harper realized. “What happened with Aubrey? Was she arrested?”

“The day-care manager called the police, but they said it was our choice whether or not to have her charged,” Ryan told her.

“And you opted not,” she guessed.

“I said I’d have to discuss it with you, but Aubrey’s attorney pointed out that there’s no evidence she wanted to take Oliver from the day care for any reason other than a visit.”

She snorted her disbelief.

“That was my reaction, too,” he said. “But the attorney also suggested that his clients might agree to a stipulation of supervised visitation if we chose not to pursue other legal remedies.”

“I don’t know that pressing charges would accomplish anything,” she said. “At least that’s something.”

“There’s something else,” Ryan said, and pulled Oliver’s beanbag puppy out of his pocket.

“You found Woof.”

“Aubrey found Woof.”

“She must have been at the cemetery on Mother’s Day, after we left,” Harper realized.

“And at the courthouse when we got married,” Ryan said.

“What?”

So he told her about Oliver “finding” the toy that day—and how he’d thrown it away. And now it had turned up again, courtesy of Aubrey.

“That’s a little scary,” Harper said.

He didn’t disagree.

Then Oliver plopped himself on the ground beside them and looked at Harper hopefully. “Kee?”

She chuckled. “Are you hungry?”

“Kee,” he said again.

“I guess it’s getting close to dinnertime,” Ryan realized.

Her stomach growled in agreement, the bowl of fruit and yogurt she’d had at breakfast nothing more than a distant memory.

“I had big plans for a special meal for your first night home,” he told her. “Spaghetti Bolognese, garlic bread sticks and salad, of course.”

“Takeout from Valentino’s?” she guessed.

“Yeah. How does that sound?”

“Delicious,” she admitted. “But too much trouble.”

“Too much trouble to go pick it up?”

She nodded. “I don’t want you to go anywhere right now.”

“We could get pizza delivered.”

“Za,” Oliver chimed in.

“Za sounds even better,” she agreed, ruffling the little boy’s hair.

“There won’t be any salad,” Ryan warned.

“We could get tomatoes and green peppers on the pizza.”

“We could,” he agreed. “But we won’t.”

“Spinach and mushrooms?” she suggested.

“How about pepperoni, sausage and bacon?” he countered.

She made a face.

In the end, they compromised on pepperoni, mushrooms and hot peppers. They had a glass of wine with their pizza—a bottle of Harper’s favorite cab merlot that Ryan had picked up as part of his original dinner plan.

After the pizza box was empty, Oliver had been bathed and tucked into his crib, and the puppy had settled into his own bed for the night, Ryan framed her face with his hands and kissed her softly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” she admitted.

“How was your interview this morning?”