Chapter Twelve

GENEVIEVE TAPPED HER FOOT on the wheelchair’s footrest while waiting for Helen to pull her car into the hospital’s circular drive. She wanted to stand up. She wanted to pace and rant and rage. Instead, she had to sit quietly and exchange small talk with the poor orderly tasked with seeing her safely into her ride away from the hospital.

Finally, Helen pulled up in her Range Rover. Genevieve lurched from the wheelchair over the orderly’s cautions. She climbed into her sister’s vehicle, tossing the young man a smile over her shoulder. “Thank you so much, Steve. Have a nice evening, now. Good luck on that English exam.”

She slammed the passenger door shut. “Get me out of here.”

“Oh, Genevieve. Cool your jets. You’ve been here, what—four hours? Five?”

“I got four stitches in my hand. One per hour. I had time enough to have a colonoscopy or something else fun while I was there.”

“Want me to turn around?”

Genevieve ignored the question. Her hand throbbed. Her heart ached. Hadn’t Willow gone through enough already?

“Did you know about this, Helen?”

Warily, Helen asked, “Know about what?”

Genevieve’s tone was flat and grim as she said, “Andy’s baby mama.”

Her sister gasped and whipped her head around to pin Genevieve with a look. “His what?”

“Baby mama. When Andy died, he left behind a pregnant girlfriend.”

“He did not!” Helen scoffed.

“Yes, he did.”

Helen’s eyes flashed with fury, and she turned a corner a shade too fast. “Why, that asshole!”

Genevieve studied her sister closely. “You really didn’t know?”

“No!” Helen exclaimed. “I’m totally out of the loop on this. Spill the tea, sister.”

Genevieve did just that, hitting the highlights—or low-lights, as it were—about everything she’d learned from Willow today. When she was done, Helen let out a long, low whistle and a string of unflattering curses directed toward the late Andy Eldridge.

“I am so angry at that S.O.B.,” Helen said when she wound down. “Surprised, too. I knew that their marriage had some rocky spots, but what marriage hasn’t? Had no clue that he’d cheated on her. I certainly didn’t know about any baby. I’d have told you that.”

Genevieve believed her. “Willow never mentioned divorce to you?”

“Nope. Never hinted at it.”

“Oh. I wish she’d talked to you.” Genevieve realized that was true, too. “I wish she had talked to somebody. I’m certain her sister didn’t know. Brooke wouldn’t have been able to keep that kind of secret, either. We could have helped Willow through this.”

“Are you sure?” Helen gave her a sidelong glance.

“Yes. I’m her mother. I know what it’s like to be widowed.”

“But you don’t know what it’s like to be the widow of an asshole, and besides, that made you Mommy Always Right.”

Genevieve’s feathers ruffled. “Excuse me?”

“Well, look at it from Willow’s point of view. Because you were right all along, she had some crow to eat about Andy.”

“I didn’t want her to eat crow,” Genevieve insisted. “I wanted her to have a happy marriage.”

“I’ll give you that.” Helen slowed the car as the traffic signal they approached turned yellow, then red. Once the car had stopped, she looked at Genevieve and said, “But be honest. Deep down inside yourself, where Evil Genevieve lives, you preened a bit and did the I was right dance when she fessed up.”

“Well, maybe. But I didn’t let her see it.”

“No, but she knows. She knows you.”

“Okay, that makes me feel bad. I don’t want her to hurt. Willow has enough hurt in her life, which is why Maggie Eldridge had no business dumping her problems on my daughter. Unfortunately, I can’t even be angry at Maggie right now because of poor Tom. I know Maggie is going through hell. I understand her wanting to keep that cheating asshat’s love child. AJ is her grandson. But the boy isn’t Willow’s responsibility.”

“You are right about that, Genevieve,” Helen agreed as the light changed, and they resumed their drive.

“I’m thankful Willow nixed moving to Texas, but I cannot believe she said yes to bringing him here to Lake in the Clouds, into her home. Why, that child is the—” Genevieve bit off the sentence.

“The what?”

“Never mind. It’s too mean. I won’t say it.”

Interest in her gaze, Helen prodded. “Won’t say what?”

Her lips pursed, Genevieve didn’t respond, so Helen, being Helen, started guessing. “The bastard’s bastard? The spawn of Satan?”

“The incarnation of betrayal.”

“Ouch. How very Catholic of you. C’mon, Genevieve, he’s just a child.”

“Oh, I know. That’s why I didn’t say it. Look, I’m not blaming the baby. Truly, I’m not.” Genevieve brought her hands to her head and massaged her temples with her fingertips. “It’s a bad situation all around. So, I want to do what I can to change bad to good. But Willow is my child. I’m going to protect my child first. Every time she looks at that little boy, it will be an arrow through her heart. I don’t want her to suffer that way.”

“She’s an adult, Genevieve. She gets to decide what works for her.”

“I know. I recognize that. I acknowledge that.”

Genevieve turned a fierce look her sister’s way as she continued, “But that doesn’t mean that Willow won’t be my baby until the day I die. If she’s tied to the railroad tracks and I see a train of pain bearing down upon her, I’ll do everything possible to get to her with a pair of scissors in time.”

“I know, honey,” Helen said in a placating tone.

“The rest of the world can protect Andy Eldridge’s love child, but I’m going to watch out for Willow!” Genevieve declared. Then with a sly self-satisfied smile, she added, “That’s where you come in.”

“Me?” Helen reflexively tapped the brake. “You’ve lost me.”

“Careful!” Genevieve checked the side mirror to see if they were in danger of being rear-ended. Luckily, the road behind them was clear. She returned to her point. “Look, what do we really know about this little boy? Just what Maggie told Willow. Maggie’s interests and ours are not aligned. And who’s to say that the child’s best interests align with Maggie’s? AJ needs someone looking out for his best interests. Under ordinary circumstances, I’d volunteer, but in this case, I’m one hundred percent Team Willow. So that leaves you.”

“Me! Why me?”

“Because if you agree to become AJ’s advocate, you will put his needs first. With your legal background, you know what questions to ask, or you know the people who know what questions to ask. And you’ll make sure all the legal i’s are dotted and t’s crossed in any agreements that are reached.”

“I hate to admit this, but you’re ahead of me, Genevieve. What questions are you talking about? What agreements?”

“For one thing, we need a DNA test. We need to confirm that this child is Drew and Emma’s half brother. We need to know more about the mother than the fact that she’s dead. Is Maggie being honest about her not having any other family? If so, we need to investigate what other options might be available. I’m thinking that a private adoption might be the perfect answer for AJ. He’s not even two years old. Childless couples across America are desperate to have a little one to love. I feel certain there’s an exceptional family out there who would welcome him into their family and love him unconditionally. I don’t doubt that we could find parents for him who would be willing to allow Maggie to be a part of his life. Maybe Emma and Drew, too, if that’s what Willow wants.”

“Why, Genevieve Prentice. When did you think of all of this?”

“Those four stitches took a long time.”

“I was with you most of that time. We were passion planning.”

“I think we need a new name. That sounds nasty.”

“Hey, it’s your idea.”

“Not exactly, but that’s another story, and I don’t want to get distracted. Will you do it, Helen?”

“Be AJ’s family advocate? Do you know what you’re asking, Genevieve? If I agree to do this…”

“You will do it to the best of your ability. Yes, I know. You were an excellent attorney before you retired. You are outstanding when you go legal-beagle investigator mode.”

“I’ll be Team AJ all the way,” Helen warned.

“I’m counting on it. It means that tomorrow when I meet that little boy, I won’t need to feel guilty about being Team Willow. I can put my child’s needs first because my sister is on the job. She has my back. Like always.”

Helen nodded and slowed the car as they approached an intersection. “Not to change the subject, but here’s another missing stop sign.”

“Oh my stars.” Disgust laced Genevieve’s voice as she dug into her handbag for her phone. “I don’t know if I can take photos with one hand.”

“Here, I’ll pull over to the curb.”

“I’m afraid your campaign manager is getting off to a slow start,” Genevieve said as she nudged the button to roll down her window.

“Yes, that is apparent.” Helen pulled to the side of the road, then reached across the console with her foot on the brake to help Genevieve take the photograph. “At least the streetlight is working. Although, does it look like it’s flickering to you, Gen? I need to make a note of that.”

Helen was putting together a traffic-safety presentation to make to the city council next week. Because she considered their reception of her suggestions for necessary improvements to be a foregone conclusion, she expected to use the information in her campaign.

“No, the light is steady. Ouch,” Genevieve grumbled as she accidentally bumped her hand. “This hurts.”

“I can’t believe you managed to cut yourself. You’re not usually a klutz.”

“I’m not usually DEFCON ten angry.” She rolled up her window.

“Is DEFCON ten a thing?”

“I don’t know, Helen. That picture was blurry. You need to hold it steady if—”

Clink. Clink. Clink. Genevieve and Helen were startled at the rap on the driver’s side window. Genevieve leaned forward and spied the end of a metal flashlight and a uniformed figure standing outside the car. Helen muttered a curse. She pushed the button, and the window slid down. “Hello, Ralph.”

“License and insurance, please.”

Helen rolled her eyes at her sister as she reached for her purse. “Aren’t you going to ask us if we’re having any trouble, Officer? We are two little old ladies parked by the side of the road, fumbling with our phones.”

“Speak for yourself,” Genevieve muttered.

Helen handed over the requested documents. “They haven’t changed since you stopped me last week, Ralph. May I inquire as to the reason why we’re being stopped?”

“You were already stopped.”

“He has a point, Helen.” Genevieve offered the policeman her friendliest smile.

“You are stopped, and you don’t have your flashers on. That’s a moving violation, so I must write you a ticket. I’ll be right back.”

Helen opened her mouth to protest, and Genevieve elbowed her in the side to shut her up. “My hand, Helen,” she whined. Loudly. “I must get home. As soon as possible.” Sotto voce, she added, “Please let’s not make a trip to the ER and the jail on the same day.”

Helen punched the button to roll up the window against the night air and snapped, “A moving violation when we’re stopped? Isn’t it nice to know that Lake in the Clouds has our own Barney Fife?”

“This is why you keep me in your life. Hardly anyone else is old enough to know what the heck you’re talking about.”

“That’s not true. Your kids watched Mayberry reruns on TV while growing up.”

“They did not.” Genevieve waited a beat and added, “It was called The Andy Griffith Show.”

Helen wrinkled her nose toward her sister. “Well, everyone in my building knows who Barney Fife is.”

“You live at a retirement center.”

“A senior condominium community,” Helen corrected. “And Ralph is an idiot.”

“I won’t argue that. Get the ticket dismissed tomorrow. Take me home. I’m not kidding about my hand throbbing.”

Helen huffed. “The things I do for you.”

“I know. Love you, sister.”

“Love you, too. Hand me your phone, and I’ll retake that fuzzy picture.”

Clink. Clink. Clink. Helen rolled down the window and held out her palm to accept the ticket. “Oh, thank you, Ralph. You are such a—”

“Don’t say it,” Genevieve murmured. “Don’t say it.”

“Public servant. Good night.” She rolled the window up, flipped on her signal, and pulled out onto the street. “So, when is AJ due to arrive?”

“Sometime tomorrow afternoon. I told Willow I’d pick up the kids right after lunch and babysit until she was ready for them to meet.”

“Oh, Genevieve. Of course you did. Mom to the rescue.”

“That’s what I do, Helen. That’s what I do.”

Willow lifted her face to the hot water pelting her from the showerhead and smiled. The shower was invigorating. She felt rejuvenated and tingled from head to toe. When she realized she was singing, embarrassment washed through her.

The shower door opened, and Noah started to step inside, a gleam in his eyes and unmistakable proof of his intentions leading the way. Willow held up her hand, palm out. “Down, boy. There’s no more time for that.”

“But—”

“I told my babysitter I’d be home by eleven.”

“I can be quick,” he begged, wagging his brows.

“Snooze, you lose, handsome.” Grinning, she swatted him on his most fine ass and scooted past him out of the shower, grabbing a fluffy blue towel from the floating shelf to dry off.

By the time Noah showered, Willow had dressed and gone downstairs. She decided she wanted one more look at the puppies before she left, but as she walked toward the pen, she got distracted by the Victorian dollhouse. A faint smile hovered on her lips. The man certainly paid attention to detail.

She’d bet he’d made this for his niece, whether he’d admit to it or not. A pink-and-purple color scheme had preschool girl written all over it. Willow knew this for a fact. Weren’t pink and purple Emma’s favorite colors?

When Noah joined her, she was hunkered down before the puppy pen, scratching Marigold behind the ears. “Still trying to make a choice?”

“Actually, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to bring the children out and let them pick. Drew will choose right away. Emma will hem and haw, but my instincts are telling me that in light of AJ’s arrival, it will be a good thing.”

“Of course you can bring the children out. In fact, that’s a nice segue into something else I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

He clasped her hand in his and tugged her toward the door. “Since you need to be home by eleven, let’s talk about it on the way.”

Willow was curious, but she felt too mellow to be too curious. She didn’t really want to think much at all. Tomorrow was going to be a seriously tough day, and she would need to do plenty of thinking then. For now, she just wanted to settle back into his leather seats and veg.

So she wasn’t thrilled when, after pulling out onto the highway and heading back into town, Noah said, “About that crib.”

Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, Willow. “Oh yes. That’s really nice of you to offer, Noah.”

“Well, the thing is, I have more than a crib. This was a family retreat, and we always had a nursery. When my niece came along, we updated everything. I have the whole shebang—changing table, a high chair, toys, a bathtub. Pretty sure there are some diapers, too. Willow, my house has five bedrooms and four baths, plus the workshop apartment. I think you and the kids should move in here.”

She sat up straight. “What?”

“I want to reassure you that as much as I enjoyed tonight—which I did. Very much. More than any night in years. Decades, even. Maybe ever. But back to the point, as much as I enjoyed tonight, I’m not trying to set up a repeat. Not that I wouldn’t love a repeat, but that’s not what we agreed to, and I had this idea before I ever dreamed that we’d end up in my loft. I have all this space, Willow, and I’m not using it. Move into my house. I’ll move into the apartment. I spend all of my time in the workshop anyway. You can take your time finding the right place for you and the kids. Pay rent if that will make you feel better.”

“Noah. I don’t know what to say. That’s… incredibly generous. Probably a little crazy, too. I’ll have three children, Noah.”

“They’ll be in daycare this summer, right?”

“Yes. I’m lucky that Little Ducklings had room for AJ. I called them as soon as I got off the phone with his grandmother. But…” Oh, it would solve so many problems.

And, perhaps, create entirely new ones.

Was it a good idea for her to be around Noah daily? She feared she could totally fall for this man.

“Just think about it, Willow,” he said, taking hold of her hand. “It’s an option for you. No pressure from me one way or the other.”

“I will.” And she did. They remained silent for the rest of the ride back to the hospital to get her car, their fingers linked, the mood between them comfortable.

“Thank you,” Willow said as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. “Seriously, Noah. Thank you. For everything. Tonight was…”

“Spectacular. Magnificent. Mind-blowing. The best I’ve ever had. For me, anyway.”

Willow smiled. “For me, too.”

The parking places around her car were taken, so he found a spot a few rows over and parked. As he reached for his door handle, she said, “You don’t need to walk me to my car.”

He gave her a chastising look, then exited his truck. As they walked toward her car, she fumbled in her purse for the keys and finally found the fob. The headlamps flashed as she unlocked the door.

Though crowded with cars parked near the emergency room, the hospital lot was relatively empty of people. Noah reached around Willow and opened the driver’s side door for her. She smiled up at him. “Good night, Noah.”

“Good night, Willow.”

She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him, lingering long enough to make it sweet but not long enough to turn it to steam. When they parted, she slid into her seat and started the engine. She went to shut the door, but he held it open. “There’s something else I want to say. I’m not sure why except it’s almost like I have this ghost kicking my ass telling me to say it. To thank you. Tonight was something else for me, Willow. Something more. You helped repair something inside of me.”

“You did that for me, too, Noah. Thank you.”

“So, we make good medicine together?”

“We do.”

“Why do I suddenly feel like a snake oil salesman?”

“Better than a televangelist with a wife, three mistresses, and an offshore bank account.”

“I don’t have good enough hair to be a televangelist with a wife and three mistresses and an offshore bank account.”

“Hmm. You may be right.” Willow clicked her tongue. “It’s that cowlick that makes you always look just a little bit mussed that scores you down from Mr. Perfect Hair. Bye, Noah.”

“Bye, beautiful.” He shut the door and moved to the front of the car while she backed out of the parking spot. She gave a wave, tapped her horn, and drove away smiling.

Forty minutes later, she crawled into bed, still smiling.