She’d given up believing in it, but Blake lived it every day. She wondered if he appreciated it.
And yet...his parents weren’t here. They’d gone off to warmer climes and sunnier days. There was no wife, no babies bouncing on his knee. Maybe Hope was only seeing what she wanted to see. She certainly had a habit of doing that. How many times over the years had she painted castles in the air only to have them tumble back to earth again?
How many times had she put her trust in people only to have them let her down?
He turned on the radio and a local station played country music interspersed with Christmas carols. Hope poured syrup on her toast and took the first delicious bite. When was the last time she’d had French toast? Probably the last time she’d had breakfast at the pancake house in Beckett’s Run. She’d always put maple syrup on the first piece, and then load the second with icing sugar and whipped cream and fruit for “dessert.”
Good memories. She took a hasty sip of juice to hide an unexpected burst of emotion. So many of her memories were tied up in anger and disappointment that it was a revelation to have such a simple, positive one pop up out of the blue.
“What are you smiling at?” Blake asked, helping himself to bacon off the plate.
She cut another piece of toast, savouring the rich vanilla and cinnamon flavor. “I was just remembering going to the pancake house in the town where Gram lives. She’d take us there when we were kids and we’d eat until we were nearly sick. This brought back memories, that’s all.”
“You spent a lot of time with your grandmother?”
She nodded as she finished chewing and swallowed. “We moved around a lot as kids, but we spent holidays and summers at Gram’s. That’s the real home I remember.”
“What about your mom and dad?”
She shrugged, determined not to let things get dark and depressing. It was what it was, and nothing would change it now. “They were on again, off again a lot. My mom’s a free spirit type, and my dad’s more...traditional,” she finished. “For lack of a better word. He always wanted her to settle down and face reality. She wanted him to lighten up. There was a lot of friction. They went their own ways a lot.”
“But...?”
Explaining her family dynamic had always been a challenge. “But they usually tried again. It was pretty confusing. Hard on my younger sisters, mostly, I think. Faith was shy and didn’t say much, and Grace tended to act out for attention.”
“And you?”
She put down her fork and picked up her coffee, half hiding behind the cup and curls of steam. “Oh, me,” she said easily. Perhaps too easily to be believable. “I tried to help where I could.”
Which was the grandest understatement of the century. She’d tried to provide the stability that the three girls had been missing. And, as much as she’d understood her mom’s need to spread her wings, she’d wished in the deepest corners of her heart that her dad would come and sweep them all home and tell Lydia that this was enough nonsense.
She’d wanted them to be a regular family. Desperately.
“You’ve gone quiet,” he observed softly.
She cleared her throat and busied herself cutting into her breakfast. “Never mind,” she said briskly. “Look, Blake. I’ve seen the kids that you work with all week. I could boo-hoo about my past all I want, but the truth is, I’ve never had to deal with what those kids and parents are dealing with. I just need to get over myself, and that’s that.”
His wide hand closed over hers and the fork stilled. “That is easier said than done, and I know it.”
She stared at his fingers, at the way they completely dwarfed her hand, how strong they felt wrapped around her skin, and before she could think about what a bad idea it was she turned her wrist so that her hand rolled and their fingers clasped together.
Not just a gesture of comfort now, but a real, honest-to-goodness physical link between them, and Hope felt it clear to her toes.
His thumb rubbed against her wrist, warm and reassuring, and she made no effort to pull away. Just another few moments. It felt so good to feel like a part of something, even if it was as simple as holding hands at a breakfast table. She’d been alone a long time. By choice, but alone just the same.
“You got over yourself,” she reminded him. “You didn’t let your accident stop you.”
His fingers tightened on hers. “Didn’t I? There were a lot of years between the injury and starting this place. I felt plenty sorry for myself. Plenty guilty.”
“Guilty?” Hope looked up into his face. “What on earth did you have to feel guilty about?”
His eyes were the saddest she’d seen them as he said, “My brother was in the car, too. He didn’t make it.”
“DIDN’T make it?”
Hope felt like she needed to pull her hand away, but she couldn’t. It would be a deliberate withdrawal and a step back—not at all what she should do at this moment.
Blake had had a brother? She swallowed. As much as she’d argued with her sisters, having them had always been a blessing. Because of them she’d never felt alone. Despite the strain of the responsibility she’d felt, and it hadn’t been easy, they’d been there, given her a purpose. Even if they’d acted out in their own ways, the reason for it had tied them together.
She couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to lose one of them.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “That must have been terrible for you.”
“Brad was my twin,” he said roughly. “We did everything together. The bond between twins is...”
“I’ve heard it’s different. That the connection is deeper.”
“I knew what he was thinking, sometimes what he was feeling. We played hockey together and sometimes we were so in tune with each other it was like music.” He pulled his hand away then, and gave a sad smile. “I think of him when I watch the Sedin brothers play now. We could have been like that.”
Hope didn’t know who the Sedin brothers were but she didn’t need to know to understand that Blake still felt the loss keenly.
“I can’t imagine not having my sisters,” Hope replied.
“You’re close?”
She looked down at her plate, annoyed with herself for bringing the conversation back to herself when she really wanted to learn more about him.
“Not particularly. But...I know they’re there.”
She suddenly felt guilty about not keeping in touch more. Not making more of an effort now that they were all grown up and leading their own lives. Faith and Grace weren’t her responsibility any longer, but instead of trying to redefine their relationship, they’d drifted apart. Anytime either of them had asked her for anything she’d turned her back. Maybe it was time that changed.
“I spent a lot of time wishing for Brad back,” Blake said. “It felt like a piece of me was missing. And I really struggled with why he was taken and I was left behind. At the same time I was a teenager, going through all the things that teens go through. We’d talked about going to the NHL together. All the dreams and plans were ours, and without him I had nothing.”
“So