Why hadn’t her parents struggled harder to keep her? They could have brought charges against the man. As for Edmond, he’d taken his sister’s rejection hard, as if he’d failed her. Melissa suspected the situation had reinforced his conviction that he wasn’t cut out for parenthood. She’d soothed him as best she could, hoping that he’d heal. She’d learned the hard way that he hadn’t.
Now, Dawn’s mother was in jail. What crime had Barbara committed? How long would she be separated from her daughter?
While the minister expanded on the transformative power of marriage, Dawn wiggled in her seat. Edmond murmured to her—Melissa caught the words soon and food.
“Okay, Uncle Eddie.” Trustingly, Dawn rested her cheek on his arm.
A glaze of tears in his eyes might not seem remarkable, considering how many people cried at weddings. But to Melissa, they showed how much Edmond’s usually guarded heart was aching for this little girl. Was he finally discovering a paternal instinct?
These past three years, she’d pictured him enjoying his freedom, traveling abroad the way they used to. She’d fought painful images of him finding a woman who shared his tastes and his pleasures.
Instead, here he was, still single. Evidently he’d been tied up with family issues. He’d shouldered an unusual amount of responsibilities since his teen years, with his father frequently off driving long-distance truck routes and his reticent mother intimidated by her strong-willed daughter. Edmond’s efforts to help raise his sister had smashed head-on into her adolescent rebellion. No wonder he’d craved peace and quiet as an adult.
As Anya and Jack exchanged rings and said their vows, tears blurred Melissa’s own gaze. She and Edmond couldn’t go back to their wedding day eight years ago and make things come out differently. Yet today he was showing a different side of himself....
What an idiot she was! When she entered into this pregnancy, she’d been well aware that she couldn’t expect any man to love and care for her and her babies. Her longing for them had overwhelmed all other considerations.
They were enough to fill up her life and her heart. They had to be.
Edmond had intended to stay after the ceremony only long enough to be polite. He’d assumed his presence might be uncomfortable for Melissa.
Instead, she was friendly toward him, while Dawn eagerly joined the red-haired flower girls at the buffet table in an area connecting the kitchen and den. He was glad he’d brought her. His niece could use a change of scenery to take her mind off visiting her mom in jail.
Worse might lie ahead for Barbara. Edmond tried not to dwell on that disturbing prospect. He needed today’s change of pace as much as Dawn.
“You and your housemates are wonderful cooks,” he told Melissa as they waited in line. Delicious smells wafted from the array of dishes, while a separate table displayed a three-tiered white cake decked with blue and red berries and, on top, a large red heart. Plates of cookies surrounded it, presumably for those too impatient to wait for dessert.
“The food is mostly Karen’s doing. I’m the baker. I can’t take credit for the wedding cake, though,” she added. “I’m the cookie lady.”
“I’m impressed by anything people do in a kitchen, other than set fires.” Growing up, Edmond had learned the basics, but rarely cooked.
“When we moved into the house, the five of us voted to take turns, each fixing dinner for a week. That didn’t last,” Melissa admitted. “Now we all pitch in or go our own ways.”
“The kitchen must have been upgraded.” From where they stood, Edmond noted gleaming new appliances.
“Karen remodeled after her mother died last year,” Melissa said. “She didn’t change the basic shape of the room, though. You still have to perform the limbo to get into the pantry.”
“So she inherited the place. I was wondering why she bought a house here, considering the smell. Although the scenery is striking.” Sliding glass doors offered a view across the patio and rear yard to the gray-and-green estuary. “What’s the layout—any bedrooms downstairs?” While he didn’t expect a tour of the place, Edmond was curious about the sleeping arrangements.
“Lucky has a small suite through there.” She indicated a doorway on the far side of the den. “Karen, Zora, Anya and I have bedrooms upstairs.”
“Except now Rod’s taking Anya’s place,” he muttered, half to himself.
Melissa ducked her head. “I keep forgetting.”
“Won’t that be awkward, having a guy upstairs with the ladies?”
In a low tone, she confided, “He and Karen have become close. I hope that won’t blow up in our faces, but she seems happy, and he’s a solid guy underneath the kidding.”
“Yes, I got that impression.”
As Edmond filled his plate at the serving table, he recalled his intention of cultivating new acquaintances. There were a lot of people here, and he supposed he could chat them up, but he’d much rather spend the afternoon in Melissa’s company.
Also, he suspected many of the guests, aside from those he’d already met, were from out-of-town. The father of the bride was busy tending to his wife, who moved stiffly with the aid of a cane. Jack was introducing his friends to a fiftyish woman dressed in knock-your-eyes-out Caribbean colors. Edmond had heard that Jack’s mother lived in Haiti and raised money for charities there.
He decided to forget duty for one day. Aside from keeping an eye on Dawn, of course. She and the two older girls had gone outside to eat at the patio table. Before they closed the glass door behind them, Dawn had sent Edmond a questioning gaze. He nodded his approval. If the girls didn’t mind the smell, more power to them.
“I’m glad she’s found playmates,” he said, following Melissa to a well-worn couch. “She tends to be shy, especially with new people. Jack’s nieces seem outgoing.”
“Except around their stepfather,” she murmured.
Edmond didn’t spot Vince Adams or his wife in the den, although they’d been at the head of the buffet line. He assumed the couple had carried their plates into the dining room, where some of Melissa’s housemates had put back the dining room table and set it immediately after the ceremony. That suited him fine. No matter how important the Adamses might be as potential donors, Edmond was in no mood for apple-polishing, especially to a guy who’d publicly humiliated his stepdaughter.
“You’re good with Dawn.” Melissa set her plate on the coffee table.
“I try.” He stared moodily at his food. “Let’s hope I do better with her than I did with my sister. I wish I understood where I went wrong.”
“Why do you blame yourself for her problems?” she asked.
“When we were young and Dad was on the road, Barbara used to confide in me about everything, value my advice, follow me around. But when she hit adolescence, I was commuting to college so I couldn’t be there for her. She began acting out, cutting school, skipping her homework assignments.”
“Many teenagers rebel to a degree,” she pointed out.
“Sure, but then she ran off with Simon. I should have done more to stop her.” It had been only a few months after their marriage. “She was sixteen. We could have gone to the police.”
“That was your parents’ decision, not yours,” she reminded him. “And she did get legally emancipated after Dawn’s birth.”