LINC sat on the low-slung white sofa, thinking he’d waited too damned long to come here. He’d let too much time pass—
Because it was easier that way.
“Here you go.” Renee Curtis laid a glass of lemonade in front of him, then sat in a matching armchair on the other side of the glass-and-chrome coffee table. “The kids will be home soon. They’re next door at my neighbor Jeannie’s house, swimming in her pool.” She laughed a little. “Doesn’t matter how nice our pool is, the one in the next yard is always more fun.”
“How are the kids?”
Renee glanced out the window, at the white Colonial a few hundred yards away. “They’re okay. It gets both harder and easier as time goes by. If that makes any sense.”
Linc sipped at the lemonade, not out of thirst, but out of something to do. In the three years since his brother had died, he’d tried very hard not to have these conversations with his sister-in-law. He’d sent checks. Birthday cards. Christmas presents. But not himself, not any more than necessary. It wasn’t that he didn’t love or care about Marcus’s widow and two children, it was that seeing them was too painful. Avoiding them was easier all around, for both sides.
“How does it get easier?” he asked Renee, because he sure as hell wanted to know the answer to that question. He hadn’t found it, not in three years.
She sighed. “The kids get used to not having him here. They move forward. After a while, you get to the point where you stop thinking about it every five minutes. Then that makes it harder, because when you do stop, and realize he’s gone—” She inhaled. “It hurts all over again.”
Guilt roared through him at the pain lining her face. “I’m sorry, Renee,” Linc said, thinking he couldn’t say the words enough times. “I’m so sorry.”
A sad smile curved across her face. “Linc, you don’t have to—”
“I should have been there that day.” He let out a breath, then rose and faced the same window Renee had just been looking out of. He could see the corner of the neighbor’s pool, and the ripples of bright blue water, but not his niece and nephew. Through the glass, though, he could hear their happy shouts, and knew they were doing okay. He was grateful for that. “If I had never left, he would have taken care of himself, taken the medication—”
“Linc, he was a grown man. He made his choices.”
“I was the one who was supposed to watch out for him. I promised them. I promised—” His voice broke on the last few words, and he gripped the window frame, the outside images blurring.
“It wasn’t your fault, Linc.”
Linc shook his head. He knew the truth. Marcus had been his responsibility, and, as smart as his brother was, he hadn’t been smart when it came to his health. “He told me not to worry, that he’d take his medication. But I should have known better. He was always forgetting, and because I wasn’t there—”
“You couldn’t police him every minute of the day. He was an adult. He didn’t even—” Renee cut off her sentence, and in the short syllables Linc heard the same echo of regret that was arcing through his own chest. “He never even told me.”
Linc turned to his sister-in-law, and put a hand on her arm. “He didn’t want you to worry.”
A bittersweet smile crested on her lips. “What kind of husband doesn’t tell his own wife he has a heart condition?”
“One who didn’t want you to see him as weak. Marcus hated being sick. Hated everything to do with being what he saw, I guess, as something less than normal. He never told anyone.”
“I wish he had.” Tears glimmered in her eyes. “It should never have been just your responsibility, Linc.”
He turned away from the forgiveness in her face, in her tone. Renee had never blamed him, but Linc had done enough blaming for a dozen people. “If I had—”
“If you had done A or B, he still could have had a heart attack.” Renee came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Marcus loved his job, Linc. He loved his life. He was all about having a good time with whatever time he had.”
Linc nodded, mute. His devil-may-care brother who had lived for the moment, in the moment.
“It wasn’t work that caused his heart to fail. It was just…his time. You, of all people, should know that. The doctor said—”
Linc wheeled around. “I don’t care what the doctor said, Renee. If I had been here, I would have made sure he took every last pill. Gone to the doctor when he started feeling bad, instead of going on about his day like nothing was wrong. That was my job, to watch over Marcus, protect him. The only one I failed at.”
Renee put a hand on Linc’s face and shook her head. “No, Linc, you didn’t. And you know darn well that Marcus would tell you the same thing if he was here. Why do you keep beating yourself up over something you can’t change?”
A door opened in the back of the house and giggles and shouts exploded inside the room. “Mom! Can we get a slide on our pool, too?” The voice was followed a second later by the twin images of Marcus—
Anna and Daniel. The two children slid to a stop. Anna, the younger of the two, tipped her head in confusion, but Daniel’s face broke into a grin. “Hi, Uncle Linc.”
“Hello, Daniel. Anna.” Linc couldn’t believe how much eight-year-old Daniel looked like his father. He had the same lopsided smile, the same wide blue eyes, the same cowlick that made his hair curve across the front of his head. “I brought you two a few things.” Linc turned and handed each of the kids a bag filled with a few toys he’d picked up on his way to the house. He’d had no idea what to buy, and simply trusted the salesclerk in the toy store.
Daniel exclaimed over the remote control car, and fair-haired, blue-eyed Anna clutched the baby doll to her chest, telling Linc he’d done all right for a guy who knew nothing about kids.
For a second, his mind wandered to Molly. To the child she carried. He saw his own image in the faces of his niece and nephew and wondered what it would be like to see that smile someday on his own child’s face. To buy something and know he’d gotten it right. Picked out just the right toy truck or perfect stuffed animal. Then have his child run up to him, arms out, a hug ready—
Linc pushed the image aside. He’d made his choices. The best ones for him, and for Molly.
Marcus’s children thanked him, then headed back outside to play with their new gifts.
“Thanks, Linc,” Renee said.
“Least I can do,” he said, tearing his gaze away from the empty space where the children had been a moment before and directing it back to his sister-in-law. “You’re okay with money?”
“We’ve been fine, Linc. I keep trying to tell you that.” Renee put a hand on his arm. “You don’t need to take care of us anymore, not financially. We’re doing fine. I’m working, and there was plenty of life insurance. We’re doing okay, honest.”
“It’s the least I can do,” he repeated.
Renee picked up the gift bags and tissue paper, and placed them on the coffee table. Then she sighed and sat back on the armchair. “Linc, stop bringing gifts. Stop sending us money.” When he started to protest, she held up a hand. “The only thing the kids and I want is you. They need a male figure in their lives, someone who cares about them and will give them the kind of advice a mom can’t.”
“Renee, I’m no good with kids. I shouldn’t—”
She leaned forward and put a hand on his knee, cutting off his sentence. “You should. And the kids, they just want to see their uncle. They don’t expect you to be entertainer of the year. You’ve been here financially, and for that I’m grateful, but as an uncle—”
The sentence cut off, and he knew what she had left out. As an uncle, he had let the children down.
“I wanted to, but…” How could he explain that every time he saw the kids, it reminded him of the father they had lost? Of how he had been the reason for that loss? What kind of influence could he be, with all that hanging over him? And them?
Renee gave his arm a squeeze. “No more buts, Linc. I think the best thing for them, and for you, is for the three of you to spend time together. Nothing heals a broken heart like family. And, if you ask me, you’re the one who needs healing the most out of all of us.”
Molly had been home for a week already. She’d spent a ridiculous amount of time organizing drawers and closets that didn’t need organizing, then going outside to her backyard garden, tending to her plants and adding new ones. In between, she walked Rocky, going farther each day both to clear her mind and keep her body moving, which the doctor said would be good in her second trimester. Sometimes she added her neighbor Mrs. Whitcomb’s Papillion, Duke, because the older woman didn’t get around as well as she used to, and the little dog loved playing with Rocky.
The applications she’d sent out before she left for Vegas had resulted in several callbacks, and she’d gone on two job interviews already, with one of them looking very promising for a teaching position next month. Ordinarily, she’d be excited about the new school year, getting to know her students, planning a new curriculum, designing fun bulletin boards and projects, but—
For some reason, her heart wasn’t in the tasks like normal.
Jayne had done her best to cheer Molly up, inviting her out to dinner, to go shopping, and for a pedicure. Molly had gone along, hoping some friend time would alleviate the weight hanging on her shoulders.
It hadn’t.
She called Alex and Serena, keeping in touch with them regularly through texts and phone messages, assuring them everything was fine. But whenever they asked about Linc, she evaded an answer.
Because she really didn’t like the one she had.
She’d made it past the first trimester, and her morning sickness had stopped. Her obstetrician had told her everything looked good, and she should expect a March baby. It was time, she knew, to begin making plans. Once the school year got underway, she’d be too busy to do much more than sleep and create lesson plans, especially if she was working at a new school. The best thing to do was to get ready for the baby now.
She ducked into a baby store, and started wandering the aisles of gaily decorated cribs, filled with pastel blankets and piles of stuffed animals. A half-dozen couples milled about the store, talking excitedly with each other, exchanging kisses—
Making Molly feel more alone than she had five minutes ago. Her hand wandered to her stomach, just now starting to show, enough that she’d had to buy looser pants and a tunic top. Not maternity clothes yet, but something more comfortable. Oh, baby, she thought, I wish your father was here.
But he wasn’t. And that situation wasn’t going to change.
She turned, about to leave, when she saw Jayne walk into the store. Her face broke into a wide smile, and she welcomed her friend with a hug. “What are you doing here?”
“You mentioned that you were going shopping today for baby furniture, and I couldn’t let you do that alone.” Jayne grinned. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Tears threatened Molly’s eyes, but she brushed them away before they could fall.
“None of that,” Jayne said, wagging a good-natured finger at Molly. “This is supposed to be fun. So let’s go pick out some furniture, okay?”
Molly nodded.
“You’re going to be fine, Moll. You always are.” Jayne drew her friend into another hug, then they headed toward the cribs. They started with the basics, because it was easier to do that than to start with the reasons why Molly was shopping with her best friend—
Instead of with the father of her baby.
“How long are you going to be an idiot?”
Linc looked up to find Conner standing in his office, arms crossed over his chest. “Excuse me?”
“You’re miserable. You’re here. She’s there. Get yourself on a plane and go see her.”
Linc let out a breath. “It’s complicated, Conner.”
“When isn’t life complicated? You think my relationship with my wife was a walk in the clouds from beginning to end? We had a rocky road ourselves. It goes with the territory.” Conner crossed to Linc’s desk and plopped into one of the visitors’ chairs.
Linc glanced over at the dice clock that sat on his desk, the kitschy souvenir so out of place in the elegant office, but a constant reminder of his date with Molly, and those few times he’d slipped out of the responsibility yoke and had fun.
Molly. Linc had barely thought of anything but her in the last few days. He toyed with the clock, remembering that night at the aquarium, the day on the lake. She hadn’t answered any of his calls, e-mails. She probably hated him.
Could he blame her?
“Speaking of Molly, have you seen the new software?” Linc asked Conner. After Molly had left, Linc had backed off from the project. It had been his idea from the beginning, but as soon as she’d walked out the door his enthusiasm seemed to have gone with her. He’d signed off on the program without looking at it, handing the project to his marketing team and allowing them to package it as they saw fit.
Conner rolled his eyes, but went along with the subject change. For a few minutes the two men talked about the spring launch planned for the program. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Trying to settle on a launch date.” Linc scrolled through his calendar. “I’d like to get as early into the second quarter as possible, so we can have it on shelves before the end of the school year. We can offer it to parents as a summer—”
“I’m not discussing this with you anymore, not until you go look at the software yourself, Linc,” Conner said, getting to his feet. “I think you’ll be surprised at what you find, at the amazing things Molly did with the program. You know, you can’t avoid this forever.”
“I’m not avoiding anything. I’ve been busy.”
“Now you’re lying to yourself.” Conner shook his head. “You know, for a little while there, I really thought you had changed. I was damned glad to see it, too, because if anyone in this company deserves to have it all, it’s you.”
He tossed a CD onto Linc’s desk, then he walked out of Linc’s office. The silver disk caught the light from above and winked back at Linc, with the logo for Inside Out Games dancing back in primary colors. Waiting for him to decide whether Conner was right.
Whether Linc had changed. Or was determined to stay exactly where he had been for most of his life.