The new family business.
The truck rolled down the long dusty driveway, past the empty lots designated for parking, past the red barn that served as a gift shop and up to the main Victorian house sitting on the hill.
Emily parked and turned in her seat to give Molly her full attention. “Does Dylan know you’re back in town?”
“I hope not. You know how he hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just not happy with you right now. Can you blame him?”
“It’s his fault, anyway. Maybe if he’d come after me.”
“When you didn’t tell anyone where you’d gone? Don’t do this, Molly. It’s not his fault you left.”
Emily should have paid more attention to the situation at the time, and she still blamed herself for that. She should have seen that Molly was in over her head and going under. But a few of the times Emily had wanted to come over and help, Molly claimed the baby was sleeping, or the apartment was a mess or any one of many other excuses why they didn’t want company. The times Emily had managed to make it inside, the small efficiency had looked like a bomb had gone off. Stacks of baby diapers all over the house, clothes strewn in every corner, piles of dirty laundry practically tall enough to be a teepee, other clean clothes folded in the basket, dishes overflowing in the sink.
Molly and Dylan had managed to keep mostly to themselves, and whether it had been intentional or not Emily had never been sure. Dylan’s mother could barely stand Molly, and the unexpected pregnancy hadn’t helped. But Emily didn’t fully understand why Molly would have shut her own family out. Unless it had been because of Dylan, who thought Molly had been spoiled by their father for too long.
And true enough, had he had one look inside, he would have likely hired Molly a cleaning service. Not how Dylan rolled.
“You needed help, and maybe you didn’t know how to ask for it,” Emily said now.
“I know you tried, but Dylan always thought we should do it on our own. And of course, he was never around much to help me.”
“There was no shame in either one of you needing help. You’re both so young.” Emily now wished she’d bulldozed her way in more often. What if Molly had suffered from postpartum depression? Dylan, as a trained EMT, should have seen the signs. But maybe he’d been too close to the situation.
After Molly had gone, Emily tried for a few months to help Dylan with a colicky and often inconsolable Sierra. Eventually, due to logistics and family ties, most of the babysitting shifted to Violet, Dylan’s mother. Dylan stopped calling, and Emily, ashamed of her sister and tired of making excuses for her, stayed away.
“Maybe if he’d loved me more. It felt like the only thing we had in common anymore was Sierra. He barely touched me for six months. Do you know what that’s like?”
Molly didn’t want to go there with Emily right now. Did she know what it was like to have her heart ripped out seam by precious seam? “Does a broken engagement count?”
Molly didn’t look at Emily. “I’m sorry, Em.”
“It’s all right.”
But it wasn’t. Emily had never been engaged before Greg. Greg was reliable, safe, structured. A software engineer. If a girl couldn’t trust a man like Greg, who color-coded his ties, then whom could she trust? No one.
* * *
MAYBE NEXT TIME you’ll stay home.
The night wasn’t over until a cab service took Thomas Aguirre home, black eye covered with a bag of ice from the bar. But the real cherry on top of this sundae had been when Stone looked for the stacked blonde that had caused him his sore jaw and found her nowhere in sight. Not like she owed him a thing, but a simple kiss would have been nice. Maybe even a short “thanks.”
It usually took a woman at least a month to be this kind of trouble to him.
Now he had a bruised lip and sore jaw, thanks to being temporarily distracted by the way she stared into his eyes with a kind of trust that sent lava-level heat running through him. More to the point, the whole thing was his fault for being stupid enough to follow her outside and become mixed up in drama that was clearly none of his damn business. That should teach him.
Jedd brought out a bag of ice. “It’s a good thing we caught Thomas trying to leave with Molly, ’cause he had no business driving.”
“Yeah. Glad I could be of assistance.” Stone took the ice and placed it in on his jaw since he couldn’t put it on his sore ego. He should have seen that flying fist coming. Six months out of the service, and he’d let his guard down.
“I wish I’d been out here sooner.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I hope you don’t blame this on Emily. If you blame anyone, blame Thomas. As for Molly, that girl is hell on wheels. Almost forgot she was back in town.” Jedd fell into step beside Stone, as he headed toward his truck.
“My fault. Shouldn’t have followed Emily outside.”
“But you thought she was in trouble.”
Stone didn’t want to be anyone’s hero, or pretend he’d had anything on his mind other than finishing what he’d started with Emily.
“To tell the truth, I didn’t do enough thinking tonight.” He massaged his jaw and managed to crack a smile.
Jedd laughed. “Yeah, Emily has a way of doing that to a guy.”
Stone looked sideways at Jedd.
“Naw, Emily’s older than me and never gave me a second look. She was going to get married to some guy from Palo Alto. But it didn’t happen.” Jedd lifted a shoulder.
“I don’t need her damn biography. I won’t ever see her again.” He clicked his key fob to unlock the truck.
“If you say so,” Jedd said.
Stone should have followed his first instincts and kept to himself. Probably should have searched harder for an excuse as to why he couldn’t come out with Jedd. “I do. I’m out of here.”
“Thanks for coming out with me. See you Monday, boss—I mean, Stone,” Jedd called out.
Stone threw open the door and climbed in his truck, throwing the ice pack to the side. He’d be sleeping alone tonight and that would be okay. It would have to be. With damage like this in thirty minutes, who knew what she could do with a little more time? He didn’t need the distraction. All he wanted tonight was a warm body under him, and Emily wouldn’t stop there. She wouldn’t stop until she was another in his long list of commitments.
Speaking of commitments...
A few minutes later, he’d pulled into the driveway of James Mcallister’s sorry-looking single family home, shut off the truck and stared at his inheritance. The place needed a new coat of paint. Hell, it needed to be bulldozed down to the ground and started over. He didn’t have the time or inclination to do either. But he, along with his sister, Sarah, was heir to this mess.
Six months ago when he’d separated from the air force, Dad had said, “You didn’t have to come.”
“The hell I didn’t.” The air force might have been his life for the past twelve years, but when it came down to the AF and Dad, there had been no real choice.
The fact that it had taken him too long to make the choice? No use revisiting that scenario now. It had been tough to think anything could be strong enough to knock his old man down, but he’d been wrong about that. Should have separated earlier, when he’d first heard of the diagnosis. It seemed to be the first in a long line of mistakes he’d made lately.
Back then, Stone thought he’d have time with Dad. Time to say a long goodbye, fly their Cessnas in tandem a few times