Her Reason to Stay (4 page)

“What’s with Patrick and his son?” she asked.

“His ex-wife did horrible things. Bad enough to ensure that she lost custody of Will. He and Patrick are both trying to get over her.” Another box held utensils. “She thought I was having an affair with him, too.”

“Were you?”

“You’re blunt.”

“We’re getting to know each other.”

“I never had an affair with my best friend, who was married and the father of a young son. I have some morals.”

“I’m sure you do, but things happen. People are complex.”

“Not me. Not that complex.” Raina waved at the bowls. “Eat up.”

Daphne pulled one closer. “Okay. I’ll interrogate you later, but people who say they aren’t complex usually are.” She studied the containers. “Are you going to share this with me?”

“I already ate. You should take better care of yourself. My mother believed that old adage about breakfast being the most important meal of the day.”

“You really do miss her.” Daphne’s own maternal role models had been so terrifying she’d been glad to escape.

Raina exposed her pain with a brief, sharp nod.

“You’re different today,” Daphne said. “A mix of yesterday morning and afternoon.”

“I didn’t know what to expect yesterday. In the morning, I assumed you’d come for the money, but then I was determined to make you stay.”

“Make me?”

“I managed, didn’t I?” Her smile melted most of the barriers around Daphne’s heart. “By last night, I had time to think. I feel a bit awkward this morning. Don’t you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Believing that you want to know me, but you don’t expect anything else from me seemed gullible, considering.”

“But now you trust me? How did you make that change so quickly?”

“I made a start.” Raina plucked a strawberry from the box and popped it into her mouth. “And I’m hoping for the best.”

“Finally, I see why Patrick is so protective of you.”

Raina didn’t answer, just looked at her like “What are you saying?”

“You’re innocent. An unkind person could take advantage of you.”

“Come on. I’m tired of hearing that. I’m as mature as any other woman my age. I’ve had a life.” Raina passed a white brocade napkin. “Did you and Patrick discuss a job?”

Daphne slid the napkin into her lap, anxious that no one else should glimpse it. The food was a delightful surprise—even though bringing one’s own food into a café was inappropriate—but the costly linen felt a little too much.

She picked up one of the heavy forks. “There’s an A on the handle.”

“For Abernathy.” Raina reached for the newspaper, scanning the three positions Daphne had circled. “What about the job?”

“I’m not going to work for Patrick. This really is the family silver?”

“We eat with it if that’s what you mean.” Raina ran her French-manicured index finger around the first ad. “Child minder?” She tapped her cheek. “That’s a fancy name for a nanny, you know. For Elena Hennigan and her husband. They want a live-in caregiver for their boys, but they don’t say so here because who wants to stay in someone else’s home these days? Do you want to live in and take care of toddler boys, aged four and two?”

“I want a job, but little kids make me nervous.” What if she only knew how to be the kind of child minder who’d made her younger years a living hell?

“Florist’s delivery?” Raina read the next circled item. “You’d find that fun?”

“Fun?” Daphne shook her head. “I need a job. Fun isn’t part of the equation.”

“But you’d like to enjoy what you do, wouldn’t you?” Raina studied her sister. “Do you ever wonder if you might be prejudiced against wealthy, spoiled women?”

Again Daphne admired Raina’s ability to laugh at herself. Another surge of affection warmed her.

“I thought of one other thing last night,” Raina continued. “I had one paying job.” Suddenly fascinated with the blue lid from the silverware box, Raina twirled it with her index finger and thumb. “I wrote papers for other students one term in college. If anyone had ever found out…”

Daphne formed the word
What?
with her lips, but couldn’t produce sound. Already, she’d built an image of her sister. Listening while Raina blew it up was like hearing a nuclear explosion. “You—?”

“My father was angry because my grades weren’t—” she lifted her head and shook it “—what he expected from an Abernathy. He threatened to cut off my tuition. I had to make money.”

“You cheated?” Daphne covered her mouth, but too late as the guy from the counter leaned in for a closer look.

Raina followed Daphne’s eyes. By the time she turned back, her skin was burnished pink. “You never did anything wrong?”

Daphne stared at the breakfast Raina had brought. “Plenty of bad stuff. Probably worse than you can imagine. But I never—”

“Well, now you know I’m not perfect.” Raina pushed her chair back. She waved at the plastic on the table. “Just throw that stuff away when you finish.”

“I’m not going to throw away your silverware. Raina, wait. Talk to me. I was surprised. I never meant…”

“You didn’t like what I said.”

She disappeared in a whirl of pink tweed before Daphne could gather up the silverware and damask and plastic and her own bag. Finally, with everything in her arms, she ran to the door.

As it closed in her face, she hit the glass, elbows first. Her right funny bone sang a teeth-clenching song.

“Hey,” said the kid behind the counter.

Daphne looked at him as she fumbled with the metal handle.

He nodded toward the square outside. “She’s mean.”

“She isn’t.” Already, she was protective of Raina, who’d dared to confess one sin. “Leave her alone.”

She finally got the door open and peered both ways on the sidewalk. A woman in red was pushing a stroller, and Daphne hopped back to give her room. A guy in a suit that had never touched a rack looked her up and down so deliberately she could almost see herself burying her fist in his stomach. Maybe she had something against rich, spoiled men, too. A little boy sailed his big, green plastic airplane just beneath her chin, roaring an engine noise.

She couldn’t see Raina.

“What’d you say to her?”

The kid from the counter had followed. Not much else to do.

She shrugged. “That I was disappointed in her.”

“I hate when my dad says that.”

She glanced at him. He nodded, wise despite his youth and coffee-stained Cosmic Grounds T-shirt.

“I was the mean one,” she told the kid.

She pulled out her phone and dialed Raina’s cell number. It rang and rang until voice mail took over. “Raina? I’m sorry. The things I did as a teen you wouldn’t believe.” Wrong tack. The truth was, she’d been shocked, a little dismayed that Raina’s halo had slipped.

Which was ridiculous. Raina would have good reason to board her windows and lock the doors when she finally heard the whole truth about her sister.

“Please, just call me. Trying again might be our best thing. I wouldn’t have the courage to ask you if you hadn’t come to me in the coffee shop yesterday.” She could hardly say her mistake might be a good thing, even though it made her see how much Raina already meant to her. “I think we’re starting to be sisters because I seriously need to explain.”

M
ITCH
E
SPY CAME
around his desk to take a check from Patrick’s hand. Every so often Lisa called Mitch with a request for money. Blackmail. As long as Patrick paid her, she stayed away from Honesty. And Will.

“Don’t worry.” Mitch laid a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “If Lisa comes back, we’ll be ready for her.”

“She’ll be back. Don’t think for a moment she won’t. Just come up with a cogent argument for the day she takes us back to court. I’ll never allow her to be alone with Will again as long as I live.”

Mitch nodded. “I understand, but no judge in his right mind will allow her visitation until she takes care of the problem.” He waved the check. “This will keep her at bay a while. It’s money she wants.”

But Patrick, whose anger at her almost consumed him, didn’t believe that someday she wouldn’t remember how to love Will again.

“She wants the money for drugs, Mitch. I’m paying to keep her high.”

“I can’t argue the morals of that again. Will’s safety has to come first. Besides, if she could admit she’s addicted, she’d be in treatment.”

Talking about it—hell, thinking about it—made him too angry to think straight. “Send her the damn check and add the usual note. After she’s in treatment, she can get in touch.” His skin crawled when he thought how easily she could make her way back to town and into his son’s life.

Moments later, he was out on the sidewalk, hurrying toward his office. He still had an arraignment and a deposition to deal with before he picked up Will from his mother’s house.

Just then a spring breeze gusted across the square, lifting the hem of a printed, pale orange sundress on the woman seated on a bench. Daphne caught her hem and smoothed it over her crossed knees.

He slowed down. Adjusted his tie. Longed not to care so much that her bare legs looked long and smooth and he could imagine the infinite pleasure of stroking her skin.

“Daphne?”

She looked up, her eyes blank as her mind was obviously elsewhere. But when she recognized him, her body seemed to take over. She sat up straighter, lifting her breasts, tightening the cross of her legs.

“Hey, Patrick.”

Her voice was about three octaves huskier than Raina’s, and the sweet tones got inside his head.

“What’s up?” It wasn’t much. It was the best he could manage. “Did you get a new room?”

She looked blank again. “Oh. That.” She scooted aside in an unspoken invitation for him to join her. “I got distracted on my way to the office. The lock’s fine.”

“Are you nuts? You need iron bars, but the chain should at least work. Call the hotel and have them fix it while you’re out.”

Her smile mocked his naiveté. “You saw the place. I’m not sure that guy at the desk could unfasten his a—himself from the seat of his chair. He’s certainly not up to installing hardware.”

“Either change rooms, have him fix it, or I’ll come fix it.”

She stared at him.

“Most women would think I’m overstepping,” he said.

“Uh-huh.”

They stared at each other, and it was like drinking his fill when he was dying of thirst. Finally, he had to look away.

“Why do you care?” she asked.

Good question. One that had kept him awake for the two nights since he’d last seen her.

“Put it down to an urge to run my own patriarchal society. I look after your sister. I’m my mother’s financial adviser. For my ex-wife…” He’d nursed Lisa for years, thinking she was on the verge of death. “I’m tired of being responsible, but it’s a hard habit to break.”

“Okay. Don’t worry.”

“I will if you don’t get it fixed.”

“I can use a screwdriver as well as the guy in the office.” She lifted the paper he hadn’t noticed on her lap. “I’m looking for a job. Do you know a Mrs. Hennigan? She’s so desperate for child care she offered me the chance to look after her boys.”

“Did you accept it?”

“I saw her son Tyler riding their beagle. Tyler’s two, and the beagle must be about eighty-two. I figured I’d have to report Tyler to the SPCA, and that wouldn’t win me any points with his mommy.”

“What about the older one? Drake?”

“He hit me with a spitball in the back of the head before I could escape the house. Mrs. Hennigan says the boys are having separation anxiety since their last nanny left. I’m betting they could find her in the nearest home for child-care providers driven crazy by their charges.”

“What did you do before you came here?”

“Whatever.”

Oh, yeah. He’d already tried that.

“You weren’t boosting cars?”

“I’m not sure you’re joking.”

The suggestion seemed to spook him. “Why?” He shook his head. “Raina was right. I could find something for you in my office.”

“Don’t tempt me.” She pleated her skirt with her fingers, then added, “I upset Raina.”

He tugged at his collar, not wanting to know. “Yeah?” The arraignment, the deposition, his son’s fears, as well as Will’s longing for his mother, all had a place in line for Patrick’s attention. He had enough to do. Walking away from both Raina and Daphne would be the smartest thing to do. “What happened?”

“She told me something.” Daphne scooped her hair behind her ear. “I was shocked, and she got upset.”

“How could Raina shock you?”

Daphne twisted her mouth. “I’m not sure I can say.”

“Did you talk it out with her?”

“She walked out. I ran after her, but I couldn’t find her.” She went back to ironing her skirt with her index finger and thumb. “I’ve tried calling her, but she doesn’t answer. Is she good at holding grudges?”

“I can’t remember her ever holding one. Maybe if you gave me a little more to go on. Was this serious? Do you want me to talk to her?”

Daphne’s spontaneous laugh warmed him like the spring sun at his back. “I think I can handle apologizing myself. If she’ll answer her phone.”

“You matter to her,” he said. “Once you’re more at ease with each other, you’ll be able to argue and make up like normal sisters.”

“You know this because?”

“I’ve known Raina all her life.”

“You belong here,” she said, and it wasn’t a platitude. “And my sister belongs here. I’ve never been in a place where people belonged like they do here.” She touched his arm, startling him. “You play your parts, and you know what to expect. I like the safety of that.”

“Are you looking for safety, Daphne?”

She met his gaze, and then hers fell to his mouth. Wanting her was crazy. It made his blood rush so that he actually felt dizzy.

He leaned closer. Around him, all sound seemed to magnify, children’s voices and birds singing. The seesaw scraping over metal. New leaves fluttering on the trees.

The sun seemed hotter. Daphne’s perfume imprinted itself on his senses, and yet he couldn’t get enough.

“What are you doing?” she asked so close he almost imagined their lips touched.

“Making a big mistake,” he said. “You know about my son?”

“I know you’ve had problems.”

“With my ex-wife. Will needs me.” He stared at her mouth, wondering if he’d ever forget the lush sweet lines of her lips, begging to be tasted, taken, enjoyed. “Will needs all of me.”

It wasn’t what he’d meant to say. Will and he needed each other to heal, but he couldn’t explain that. He could barely put words together. He hadn’t touched a woman in so long, and he wanted this woman more than he could believe.

She leaned back. He felt the loss of her. She’d been so close to moving into his arms. Then she stood, smoothing her skirt with trembling hands that he wanted to take and hold. He wanted to pull her close to him.

“I have an appointment with a flower lady on the other side of the courthouse.” Daphne tossed the paper over him, letting it sail into the mesh wastebasket.

“Wait.” He caught her arm. The small bones beneath her skin made him loosen his grip. Though she tried to be tough, she couldn’t hide her fragility. “Do you want me to call Raina?”

Softness in her eyes nearly undid him. “Thank you, but I don’t need you to help me with Raina. I believe she’ll try again with me.”

“I’d like to help.”

She nodded with a pointed glance at his hand still engulfing her wrist. “I’m not used to having a man take care of things for me.”

“Never in your life?” he asked, as if he knew it to be true. Somehow, he did. He understood the foster-care system, and he saw evidence of its worst failures in her overly developed sense of independence.

Twenty-eight years of living virtually alone, and yet she’d reached out to him and to Raina with no promise of acceptance.

“It’s time you knew the truth about Honesty. Taking care is what small towns do best.” He let her go, but she rubbed her forearm.

“I know you’re trying to make me feel welcome. Especially after what happened in your office, I appreciate that you actually care.”

Care? He was trying not to care too much.

As she walked away, another gust pushed her dark hair over her shoulder. She glanced back, as if drawn. She couldn’t look away, either.

He felt a strange jolt of happiness. It might be hope.

D
APHNE STOPPED
on the other side of the square and dropped onto the first bench out of Patrick Gannon’s sight. She couldn’t let him distract her. Her sister was her priority. They needed to settle their disagreement now.

She opened her phone and searched the record of her incoming calls until she found her twin’s phone number. Then she pushed talk and willed Raina to answer. She didn’t.

“Raina,” she spoke softly, aware of couples and families strolling past in the spring sun. Raina wouldn’t want her airing their dirty laundry over the phone. “Please call me back. I need to tell you why I had no right to—think or say anything about what you told me.”

Hell, she’d stolen newspapers to layer between her clothes. And food when her hands were shaking so hard from hunger she couldn’t understand why she wasn’t caught. Once she’d pilfered a romance novel from a drugstore’s Dumpster and then protected the book as if it were a window into a world she’d never be allowed to visit.

One stormy night, huddling beneath a thick piece of cardboard and an overpass, she’d shoved the book beneath her sweatshirt to keep it safe.

She wanted to tell Raina, to explain why she’d put her sister on a pedestal. But not over the phone. They had a hard enough time understanding each other face-to-face. She’d confess all her sins in person, but for now, Daphne closed her phone.

The time flashed across its black screen. She had to make her interview. She stood, straightening her secondhand cardigan. At the far corner on this side of the square, Miriam Burke, proprietress of Bundle of Blooms, was hoping for a viable candidate to deliver her flowers.

Daphne advanced on the store with all the confidence of a night-blooming orchid. She’d better look as if she’d be good at this.

Someone had arranged bright spring bouquets and sheaves of fresh-cut flowers in the two large windows that flanked a green door decoupaged in ribbon and posies.

Daphne glanced down the street, unwilling to admit, even to herself, that she was hoping to see Patrick’s tall, broad back, the confident jut of his shoulders among the citizens milling around Honesty’s square.

Damn him for getting into her head like this.

She looked everywhere but at herself in the reflective windows. She licked her lips. Her mouth felt so damn dry when she stressed. It might be a nothing job to Raina, but Daphne had to find a way to pay the rent.

She also had to find a meeting. Missing another one was asking for trouble.

Her phone rang as she reached for the doorknob. She pulled it out of her pocket. Raina’s name on the caller ID made her thumb edge toward the talk button, but that conversation would take more than two and a half minutes, which was when she was scheduled to meet Miriam Burke.

She eased the door open. A woman barely older than Daphne looked up from a huge crystal vase half filled with roses and carnations. The rest of the flowers were lined up on green paper along the counter.

“Hello.” Daphne held out her hand. She should have wiped her palm.

“You must be Daphne Soder.” While the woman shook her hand, she stared as if Daphne’s face were a science project. “But you look exactly like someone I know.”

On the verge of explaining, Daphne stopped. Raina might not want her revealing their relationship. An eggbeater took a quick stir at her innards, and Daphne smiled and let it go.

“Yes. I’m Daphne.”

“We spoke on the phone. I’m Miriam Burke. Do you mind if I finish?”

“Go ahead. I’ll enjoy watching.”

Miriam flashed a quick smile. She continued placing greenery and stems until she stood back with a last rose. In it went, and the arrangement looked perfect.

“Did you always know how to do that?” Daphne asked. “Or can it be learned?”

“Would you like to learn?”

“I think so.”

“Good.” Miriam wrapped up the scraps, dumped the paper and cuttings in a bucket and then eased the vase to a safe corner on the counter. “Did you bring a résumé?”

“I did.” It contained nothing that made her a sure bet for a florist’s shop, but she’d worked hard during college and after. And she’d had some retail experience.

Nevertheless, she took the envelope from her purse and slid it onto the counter. Miriam took out the pages and scanned them.

“You’re a jury consultant. Why would you want to work here?”

“I haven’t worked as a jury consultant for eighteen months.”

“Why?”

She’d always ducked that question. Did it need to be asked for this kind of job? “It wasn’t a good fit. As you can see, I’ve done retail work, and I’ve had a variety of positions so I can learn new skills.”

“I’m not suggesting you need the criminology degree.” She glanced at the résumé again. “But the variety of jobs you’ve held makes me wonder if you’d stay long enough to be worth my while.”

Everyone in this town was as blunt as a sledgehammer. “Yes,” Daphne said, and she had no trouble meeting Miriam’s pale blue eyes because she was telling the truth. “I’ll be here.” She’d alienated her sister, but Honesty was home unless Raina refused to see her again.