EVEN HIS HAIR HURT.
Finn stared morosely at the five shot glasses he’d lined up on the kitchen island’s serving bar, alongside the almost full bottle of vodka with a pouring spout.
He’d expected some hesitation from her. But not an outright no. And definitely not an oh, hell, no.
She’d gutted him with a teaspoon, and he was doing his best to deal with it. He’d knocked back two of the shots before midnight, just to take the edge off, but was waiting to do some serious damage until...
A key turned in the back door, and Hayden sauntered in from his late-night date. He’d postponed his own plans and taken Jordan to the movies earlier, knowing only that Finn had planned a special dinner for Amelia and wanted Jordan occupied.
Finn hadn’t said a word to Amelia since the beach, simply brought her home and returned her to bed. He’d done his damnedest to act normal when Jordan came home. Now both of them were asleep upstairs.
And he’d spend the night back in his temporary room.
Alone.
“Good. You’re home.” He tossed another shot down his throat.
“Didn’t know I had a curfew, Dad.”
“No curfew. I just want someone else here in case Amelia or Jordan need anything. I’m about to get shit-faced.”
Hayden dropped onto the second stool, glancing over the bar. “So I see. What’s the occasion?”
Finn fumbled in his pocket, then slapped the ring box on the island counter. He reached for shot number four.
“It’s not legal in this state for us to get married, bro, but I appreciate the kind offer.”
Finn snorted, then winced, eyes watering as the vodka burned his nasal passages. He lifted the next glass, raised it in Hayden’s direction. “That’s a nicer rejection than I got from Amelia. Salud!” He fired back the liquor.
“What? Here I thought you were looking for courage. You already asked, and she said no?”
“Not only did she say no multiple times, she threw up. She’s taking freakin’ antinausea meds, but the idea of marrying me was that appalling.” That moment was seared into his memory. His divorces had hurt far less. He lifted the bottle, refilled the line of glasses.
“Harsh. Yeah, that calls for some alcohol-induced amnesia.” Hayden culled three glasses from the line. “Still...let’s not get carried away, huh?” He went to the racks of clean dishes by the commercial dishwasher, pulled out two water glasses and added ice. Returning to the island, he dumped Finn’s two shots into one, and three into the other, which he kept for himself. “Let’s move to sipping rather than shooting.”
“Hey, I’m taking it like a man.”
Hayden laughed. “Real men don’t risk alcohol poisoning, so slow it down.”
“Who’da thunk it? You, the voice of reason when it comes to women. I didn’t intend to become a real dad. But it happened.” Finn laid his head on his arm.
“Do you love her?”
“Yeah.”
“What makes you so sure it’s love? And why on earth does that mean you have to marry her?”
“Greg said it the day of his wedding. I won’t risk losing her. Them. I started thinking about what happens when Chip’s born. She’s so damn independent, which is good. And bad. She’ll be gone before I can even think. And I couldn’t imagine my life without them. How empty it would be. That’s love, right? When you can’t imagine life without someone?” He barked a wry laugh.
“Imagine life without them... Hmm...” Hayden took another drink. “I think that’s the answer right there.”
Finn raised his head, then blinked hard to focus on his brother’s face. “What?”
“Remember when Shannon dumped Greg last year? How he kept wanting to run over to her apartment? And what did we both tell him?”
“Give her space. Let her come to her senses.”
“Exactly. And that’s what you need to do. You gotta give her a chance to miss you. Before she gets the green light to split.”
Finn snorted. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?” He gestured at the ceiling. “She’s sleeping up there! She’s dependent on me for almost everything right now.”
“Set her free. Let her depend on someone else. Give her space.”
He stared at his brother.
Hayden took the glass from his hand, set it on the counter. “Send her to Mom and Dad’s.”
###
Amelia blinked back the tears burning her eyes. Dressed for the second day in a row, which should have made it a special occasion, she lay on top of the comforter, not feeling very comforted.
She refused to cry. Especially where Jordan could see.
Her daughter folded her arms across her chest and stomped a sandal-clad foot. “I’m not going. I’m staying here.”
“You’ll do as you’re told, Jordan.” The weariness of her voice wouldn’t convince anyone, let alone a teenager, that she had the energy to enforce her command.
“No. I won’t. You still haven’t told me why we have to go. I’m not stupid. I know you had a fight about something. What happened last night?”
Hayden appeared in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot. He’d been charged with loading their stuff into Finn’s Explorer and moving them.
“Ask your fath—Finn.” He was putting her out. He hadn’t given her a chance to explain how she cared for him, was sorry she’d hurt him... Hell, she’d crushed him; she’d seen it in his eyes. But marrying wasn’t something she’d ever do again. Ever.
“I did. He said to ask you.”
“What can I tell you?” Amelia shrugged.
“The truth!”
“I’ll tell you, pip.” Hayden glared at Amelia. “Finn asked your mother to marry him and make him part of your family for good. She said no, and broke his heart. Having her around now would hurt him too much, so you’re moving to Grandma and Grandpa’s. End of story.”
Jordan’s arms dropped to her sides, and her mouth gaped open. “He asked...you said no? I can’t believe it.” She left abruptly, pounding down the back staircase.
“Hayden! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Letting the cat out of the bag. It’s not good to keep cats in bags. Things die that way.”
“It wasn’t your place.”
“Ask me if I care.” He stalked to the bed and scooped Amelia into his arms. Though anger radiated from him, he held her gently as he started from the room.
“Wait, wait! I’m not ready.” She grabbed on to the door frame as he was carrying her through.
“The longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be.” Compassion softened his tone. “Just let go.”
Sage advice. No point in trying to hang on to a man she never intended to marry. One who’d shown that when things didn’t go his way, he’d kick her out on her ass.
Just like her stepfathers—and some of the “uncles”—had done to her mother.
Swallowing hard, Amelia slowly released her death grip on the wooden frame. She looped her arms around his neck. Hayden headed down the hall.
“Aren’t we using the back stairs?”
“No. He’s in the kitchen, prepping for lunch. He’s already bandaged three fingers this morning, and I’d rather he didn’t actually slice one off.”
Her throat constricted. She struggled to speak. “What about Jordan?”
“Maybe it would be best if we get you settled first. I can come back for Jordan later. I’ll bring your car over, too.”
Leave her daughter, who was now mad at her, with Finn, who was equally mad? That didn’t sound like much of a plan. Still, it would give her a chance to figure out what to say to Jordan.
In the foyer, Hayden set her on her feet. She walked through the two sets of double doors onto the porch. Memories, images, of her first meeting with Finn in this very spot assailed her.
He’d worn unbuttoned jeans and a smug smile, and she’d fallen in lust at first sight. He’d been sperm donor #7364, contributor of the other set of chromosomes that had created her daughter’s DNA.
Now...he really was Jordan’s father. Lust had turned into something deeper. And just as she’d feared, hearts were breaking all over the place. Including hers.
He’d actually made her start to believe that maybe, just maybe, he was different. A prince in toad clothing instead of the other way around. Marriage wasn’t possible, but couldn’t they have had some kind of relationship without it?
She didn’t doubt that he loved Jordan. But he’d had trouble dealing with the medical realities of her condition.
If the transplant didn’t work...how would he cope?
The stats regarding parents of extremely ill children and the dissolution of their relationships were even higher than the norm. And ninety-nine times out of a hundred, it was the man who walked when things got rough.
They had enough on their plates without adding that to it.
Hayden swept Amelia’s legs out from under her, hefting her in his arms again and descending to the sidewalk. She turned her head to stare at the building as he carried her to the parking lot.
“I didn’t want to hurt him when I showed up on his doorstep. I just wanted to save my daughter’s life.”
“Despite the pain, I think it’s safe to say my brother wouldn’t change that. Wouldn’t change Jordan showing up on his doorstep, either.” Hayden opened the door to Finn’s Explorer.
Amelia let him lift her to the seat, which she reclined slowly. Fresh and its surroundings disappeared from her sight line. She buckled her seat belt, then blinked back a new surge of tears as he backed out the car. “There were no other options.”
Hayden snorted. “Right. Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”
“Your brother has two failed marriages under his belt already. What possessed him to propose to me?”
“Men in love do stupid things.”
“Love? You really think he’s in love with me? He never mentioned love.” Even if he had, love was easy to claim. Easy to fake, too.
“What I think doesn’t matter. I’m not the one proposing to you.”
“And you think proposing to me was stupid?”
Hayden shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. “Look what it got him.”
Amelia sighed. “Everything was going great. Why’d he have to ruin it?”
“Because he’s terrified that after Chip’s born, you’ll take him and Jordan back to Maine. And Finn will miss out on his kids’ lives.”
A chill raised goose bumps on her arms. “That’s what I thought.”
“What?”
“This is about my children, not me.” Amelia laid a hand over her belly. Her son stirred beneath her palm.
“Believe that if you want, but Finn wants it all. The whole package. That includes you. You’ve got to admit it seems like fate’s at work here, no?”
“We make our own fate.”
Finn might have been willing to risk a third go-round with marriage, but once had been more than enough for her.
###
Jordan slumped against the island’s serving counter. Not even the scent of the cooling triple chocolate brownies could cheer her up.
How could it when they might be the last batch she ever made with her father? Why were adults so stupid?
Pans clattered against the stovetop as he seared tuna for one of the lunch customers and tossed some veggies with olive oil in another. “Can Grandma cook?”
He glanced over his shoulder at her, smiling. “Yes, Grandma can cook. You’ve been to Sunday dinner.”
“Yeah, and you’ve brought a lot of food to it.”
Her cell phone chattered on the counter. She grabbed it. A text from Shelby, who was back in Maine to start school in a week. Jordan was enrolled in a cyberschool until she was cleared to go back after her transplant. Aunt Kara had promised to help her, too.
Got ur voice mail. Whazzup? Shelby’s message read.
My parents r fighting. Like getting divorced w/o even getting married 1st, Jordan fired back.
WTH? Thought it all good? What happened?
F asked M 2 marry him. She said NO! =:-0
Ur mom is nutz. I’d marry him.
Shut up. This is serious. What should I do?
Sorry. :( Not much u can do. Does this mean ur coming home sooner?
No. Still can’t cause of Chip. Moving to G&G’s house.
The back door opened, and Uncle Hayden trudged in. Their eyes met and he pressed his lips together, then crooked his finger.
Crap! Gotta go. TTYL. She slipped her phone into her pocket. Pretending she hadn’t noticed her uncle, she turned to watch her father work. He moved like a dancer in the kitchen, stirring, flipping, sliding things in and out of the ovens. She picked up her video camera and turned it on.
Uncle Hayden appeared in the frame. He leaned close to Finn, spoke so low she couldn’t hear what he said.
Her dad nodded.
Jordan’s throat closed, and the viewfinder got blurry.
Finn spun from the stove to the island, plating the dishes. He squirted sauces, arranged things precisely, then wiped the edges of the plates. As soon as he set them on the far end of the serving counter, Tracey, one of the waitresses, appeared through the swinging doors as though summoned by his thoughts. When she left, he looked up at her.
“Time to go, Jordan.”
She shut the camera, her bottom lip quivering. Tears started to run down her cheeks.
“Oh, hey, don’t do that.” He came around the island to where she perched on the stool. His own eyes shimmered suspiciously.
She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her face into his chest. He stroked her hair. “There’s no crying in the kitchen,” he said gently.
“I don’t want to go,” she choked out. “I want to stay with you.”
“I don’t want you to go, either.” He reached down, easing her away and lifting her chin, forcing her to look at him. “But I need you to take care of your mom.”
“She—she can take care of herself. She always has.”
“She can’t right now. She needs you.”
Jordan shook her head. “She needs you. I need you, Dad.”
His eyes widened. “Oh, sweetheart...” He stroked his thumb over her cheek, wiping away her tears. “Your mom made it very clear that I’m not the person she needs, or wants, in her life.”
“You love her?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He nodded. “I do.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because she’s smart and funny. She’s independent and strong. She takes excellent care of you. She makes a plan, then makes it happen.” He shrugged. “Your mom’s an amazing woman.”
“And me? Do you love me?”
He pulled her tight against him, squeezing her. “With all my heart. Don’t you ever doubt that.”
Sobs shook her. She finally had a father, one who loved her. Had a real family, with aunts and uncles and cousins.
And she had to give it up.
“Hey, if not for your baby brother acting up, we wouldn’t have had this much time. Let’s be thankful for what we’ve had, right?”
“No. I don’t want to be thankful for what I’ve had. I want more.” Of everything. More love. More family. More life.
“So do I, sweetie. So do I.”
###
Amelia stared up at the new ceiling. A popcorn ceiling. And while only a day ago a change of scenery had been most welcome, the popcorn ceiling with its thousands of little dots just annoyed her.
The twin bed pushed against the faded pink wall hemmed her in far more than Finn’s queen-size bed. A single night table between the two twin beds left little room for all her junk, and she missed his hundred channels of nothing to watch.
The two high rectangular windows were positioned over her head, leaving her with only the room to stare at. For all she knew, the world no longer existed outside this space.
Lydia Hawkins, Finn’s mother, appeared in the doorway. Amelia could only hope to look as good when she was Lydia’s age. Silver hair framed a face enhanced by well-earned wrinkles, around blue eyes that she’d passed to her children and grandchildren.
Blue eyes that nearly froze Amelia with their icy disdain.
She got the idea Lydia wasn’t entirely thrilled with her new houseguest. But then, if anyone hurt Jordan, Amelia wouldn’t be thrilled with having to care for them, either.
“Here’s your mother, dear. We weren’t sure if you’d want to stay right in here with her. There’s another twin bed.”
Jordan, at Lydia’s shoulder, scowled. “Is there someplace else I can stay?”
“Absolutely. You can have the bedroom that shares a bathroom with this one.” Lydia slid open the pocket door that led to the Jack-and-Jill bathroom. Jordan, backpack slung over one shoulder, followed her.
“There are two straps on that backpack for a reason,” Amelia called after her.
“Whatever, Mom.”
Well, at least her daughter was still speaking to her.
The afternoon wore on. Lydia brought her a dinner tray with meat loaf, mashed potatoes and carrots. All extremely hard to eat while lying down. And though the food was tasty enough, it wasn’t Finn’s carefully prepared feasts. No frog carved from a green pepper staring up at her, no cauliflower-and-black-olive sheep grazing on her veggies.
She dozed after dinner, then updated her Facebook page, played another word in her Scrabble game with Sia, and surfed the net. Like an addict seeking a fix, she even tried to access Finn’s kitchen cam, with no luck. Around ten, she heard Jordan in the bathroom, brushing her teeth. “Jordan?”
Her daughter popped her head through the doorway, toothbrush sticking out of her mouth. “Yeah?”
“Come say good-night when you’re done.”
She grunted, then disappeared back into the bathroom.
A few minutes later, she once again stood in the opening of the pocket door. “Good night.” She turned away.
“Hey! That’s it? Come back here.”
The sliding door trundled shut. Amelia closed her eyes, sighing. Eventually Jordan would get over her anger. Then they could talk about it.
Chip began his nightly calisthenics, squirming, kicking. She tried talking to him, but he wouldn’t settle. Finally, she opened her laptop again, began playing the videos Jordan had downloaded for her. The ones with Finn narrating. As always, the sound of his father’s voice soothed Chip.
It had the opposite effect on Amelia.
When the beach scene with Jordan appeared, Amelia’s vision blurred. And when his ink-stained palm showed up, her tears spilled over.
###
Finn took the front stairs that night after closing Fresh. He visited Jordan’s room first, as usual. Standing in the doorway, staring at her empty bed, he just shook his head.
One of her socks lay half under the bed. He picked it up and tucked it in his back pocket.
He stood a lot longer in the opening to his bedroom. Without Amelia, it felt barren. Not at all the retreat it had been before her arrival. Not at all the welcoming place it had become with her in it.
Peeling down to his boxers, he tossed back the covers and slid between the sheets.
Her scent clung to them. He grabbed the second pillow, the one she’d used to prop herself up when she ate, and pressed his nose into it. Pomegranate body-wash.
Elke had brought different ones each week. But the pomegranate had been Amelia’s favorite.
He wrapped his arms around the pillow. A poor substitute for her. His heartbeat thudded in his ears.
Suddenly Hayden’s advice didn’t seem all that on-target. Give her space? What the hell had he been thinking? But Greg had agreed. Apparently you could lead an independent woman to water, but you couldn’t make her drink.
Downstairs in the kitchen, something creaked.
“Dammit.” He’d forgotten to lock the back door. He reluctantly released the pillow, flung off the covers. The stillness in the house folded around him like a smothering cloak. He started down.
Between the landings, he paused.
The empty wall haunted him. No family pictures hung there, and it appeared none ever would.
He cocked back his arm and let fly, fist passing through the sheetrock like a wet paper towel.
Nursing his bleeding knuckles, he stared in satisfaction at the hole left behind.
That was more like it.