A Family of Their Own (3 page)

He’d sensed that she liked him. At least enjoyed his company, but her hesitation drove him crazy. Point blank, he needed to ask her what was up. Yet as soon as the thought hit his mind, the possibility of her honest answer discouraged him. Maybe it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

He clenched his teeth. Why look for problems? She’d more
or less agreed to celebrate Peyton’s birthday and bring Lucy along. He could only pray that the girls liked each other.

Peyton’s negativity had gotten under his skin. Still, the poor kid had gone through so much that he avoided nagging her about it. She’d been brave for the past years dealing with that horrible illness. God had spared her thus far. Much longer than her mom had survived once diagnosed with the disease. That gave him prayerful hope.

“Peyton.” He leaned forward and looked toward the doorway.

No response.

“Peyton?” But this time he flipped the footrest down and rose. No sense in calling like a truck driver. He wandered across the room and through the archway to her bedroom door. “Peyton, are you in there?” He heard a thump followed by her footsteps.

She pulled open the door. “What?”

Ross pursed his lips, holding back a comment that circled in his mind. “Can we talk a few minutes?” He looked past her into the wonderful sitting area that had once been his. He’d made a true sacrifice giving her the master-bedroom suite, but other than the small guestroom where he slept, the other bedrooms were upstairs. His shoulders dropped as he drew his attention back to Peyton. “Your birthday is coming up, and I thought we should talk about it.”

“Dad, I don’t want a party. I’m—”

“No party. I understand.” She’d missed so much school over the last years that friendships weren’t easy for her. The kids treated her like someone too delicate to befriend. It hurt him to see her in that situation.

“Then what?” She raised her round hazel eyes, so like her mother’s.

“Can I come into your room?” He motioned toward the two chairs in the sitting area, matching recliners Ruthie had picked out for them.

She stepped into the hallway and closed the door.

He stood back and followed her into the family room. She sank onto the couch as he settled back into his recliner. If he could figure out Peyton’s moods, it would certainly help. “What would you like to do?”

“I’d like to read my book.” She motioned toward her bedroom.

He bit back his frustration. “I mean for your birthday.” He’d given it thought but telling her what he had in mind would put an end to that.

“Could we just go out to dinner?”

Dinner. He could do that. “Mexican? I know you like Azteca.”

Her nose curled. “Japanese.”

He grinned. “Benihana’s?” She loved the chefs entertaining the guests with their cooking prowess. But Kelsey and Lucy? He hoped they like Japanese food. “Benihana’s is fine.” The muscles in his stomach contracted. “I have another idea, too. It’ll make it more like a party.”

A scowl settled on her face as she tilted her head. “I told you I don’t want a party.”

“Not a real party, but a celebration.”

Her eyes probed his.

“I know a lady who has a daughter your age. She’s been sick, too, and I thought maybe we could invite them. Her mother thought it would be nice.”

Her scowl deepened. “Can’t it just be us?”

The conversation with Kelsey marched through his mind. “I sort of invited them already. I thought you’d be happy.” That wasn’t exactly the truth. “I hoped you’d be happy.”

“Dad.” She bolted up from the sofa. “Do whatever.” She marched through the archway.

So much for beginning the birthday celebration on a high note. Now what? Should he call Kelsey and cancel? Kelsey’s face filled his mind, her sapphire-blue eyes, her blond hair
combed back with its stubborn part. He pictured her running her long fingers through the strands as if the action would ban the part from appearing. It never did.

He loved her smile—though rarer than her serious look—her full lips curved at the ends and smile lines like parentheses, as if the smile were an afterthought. If he called and canceled, that could end everything.

“T
ouchdown!”

Kelsey jumped at Bill Rueben’s outburst. Noise reached its pitch as the touchdown tied the score. Kelsey didn’t care if anyone won, but she wouldn’t admit that to a soul. Two things had motivated her to come to Lexie and Ethan’s Super Bowl party. First, Lexie had invited her to see her honeymoon photos. Seven days on a Caribbean cruise sounded wonderful, especially living in Michigan with only graying snow piled along the curbs outside the window. But most of all, she knew that Ross had been invited.

“Grab food when you want it.” Lexie stood in the archway to the living room. “Chips and dip, salsa and sub sandwiches.” She stepped back and then peeked around the corner. “And cookies. Homemade.”

Kelsey wriggled free from her seat on the sofa and rose. She ambled to the doorway and stood a moment, taking a furtive peek at Ross in a chair near the window. He’d said hello and asked about Lucy. She’d asked about Peyton, but with so many people watching them, she hadn’t prolonged the conversation. In the light through the window, his dark hair shone with glints of mahogany. He wore it thick, with a slight widow’s peak that most women would envy. He had a
great smile, but he wasn’t Adonis. His sensitivity captured her more. And she liked his appealing ways.

Today he’d worn jeans and a teal-colored sweater. His shoulders looked as wide as an ocean—maybe a Great Lake. She snickered to herself. Whenever Ross came to mind, a giddy feeling rustled through her. When she was near him, her pulse raced.

She studied him for a moment, and before turning away, he glanced up and saw her gazing at him. She flinched when he grinned. She managed a pleasant expression before she strutted into the dining room, forcing her attention on the food spread across the table. But a noise in the kitchen drew her toward Lexie, who stood behind the island, preparing coffee. Kelsey sank a chip into the dip, popped it in her mouth and headed her way. “Where are your honeymoon photos?”

“On the computer in the den.” She motioned toward the sliding door off the dining room. “There’s an icon on the desktop. Click on it, and it will take you right to the photos. I put captions under the pictures so in a couple years I’ll remember where I was.” Though she behaved lighthearted, her expression said she had something on her mind.

Kelsey strode deeper into the kitchen, drawn by curiosity as much as the scent of the brewing coffee. “Cooper’s with Ethan’s mom?”

She nodded. “You want to grab some food?” She motioned to the breakfast nook and headed that way, a cookie in her hand.

Food didn’t arouse Kelsey’s interest at that moment, nor did the coffee. She followed Lexie and slipped onto the bench across from her. They sat, eyeing each other as if words had taken a vacation. Kelsey’s mind skipped around possibilities of what Lexie wanted. It couldn’t be marital problems, but what about Cooper’s health? “You have something on your mind.”

She looked down. “You know, I was really weird with you
a few weeks ago. About Ross and you. I don’t know what got into me.”

“Forget it. On your wedding day, you’re allowed to do and say whatever you like. All is forgiven.”

“But it’s not like me to butt into someone’s life. I told Ethan what I’d done, and he wasn’t happy. He told me Ross is a great guy, and he deserved a little pleasure in life, just as you do.”

A knot formed in Kelsey’s throat. She cleared it. “Hey, it’s no big deal.”

Lexie grasped her hand. “Everyone needs friends, and for some reason, my mind jumped to romance. I suppose I could blame that on my wedding day.” She gave a feeble chuckle.

“Wedding days can arouse all kinds of emotions. Think of the brides who run away and the grooms who don’t show up.” She squeezed Lexie’s hand. “Really. Forget it.”

Lexie lowered her head, then lifted it again with a grin. “Have you two seen each other?”

Kelsey gave a toss of her head. “He’s in the living room.” She liked the sneaky way she avoided the question.

“You know what I mean. A date? A…coffee or lunch? Maybe a movie and dinner?” Lexie searched her face and arched an eyebrow. “Nothing?”

This question she couldn’t sidestep. “We went to dinner. At Peabody’s. We talked about the kids and he took me home.”

“And that’s it?” She drew back, a look of disbelief on her face. “I haven’t brought him up to you on the phone because I wanted to apologize in person, and you didn’t say anything to me.” She shook her head again. “I thought there would be more. You both seemed so taken with each other that day.”

Air bottled in Kelsey’s lungs. She released it. “He mentioned getting the girls together for Peyton’s birthday. It’s coming up.”

“So this is where you’re hiding.”

Kelsey jumped as Ross’s voice sailed past. He stood at the
island, a sub sandwich resting on a paper plate in his hand. She searched his face, wondering if he’d heard their conversation.

“Girl talk.” Lexie gave her a pat and rose. “Help yourself to some coffee. I just made it.”

His gaze slipped to Kelsey. “Did I interrupt something?”

Ignoring his question, Kelsey scooted from the bench. “I came in to ask Lexie about looking at the honeymoon photos.” She strutted to the island and leaned forward, trying to see through the dining-room archway. “The game’s not over, is it?”

He grinned. “It’s just about halftime.” He set his plate on the island counter and wandered over to the coffeepot. “Cups?”

Lexie pulled a few mugs from an overhead cabinet. “Milk? Sugar?”

“Black?” He turned to Kelsey. “Coffee?”

She nodded and ambled his way. “Thanks.”

“Can guys see the photos, too?” He looked over his shoulder and gave a wink.

Lexie chuckled. “They’re in the den. Kelsey knows where they are.”

Kelsey’s pulse tripped.

“Do you mind?” He faced her and offered her the coffee mug he’d filled for her.

“Not at all.” She took the mug, the aroma drifting around her, though she could still catch the scent of Ross’s after-shave.

She led the way but stopped when he paused to pile a few chips on his plate before following her. When he came into the room, he slid the door closed behind him. He grinned and slipped past her.

She swiveled in the desk chair and watched him set his mug and plate on the lamp table before he sank into the love seat. “Are you ready for the photos?”

He put the end of the sub into his mouth and took a bite. “I can eat and do anything.” He grinned again and dug a paper napkin from his pocket to wipe his mouth. “My mother taught me not to talk with my mouth full.”

She couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “I think your mother failed.” She motioned to the monitor. “Can you see?”

He set the sandwich back onto the plate. “If you turn the monitor a little, I can see fine.”

She tilted the screen and rolled her chair back as she hit the button for the slide show. The photographs began—luscious blue skies, golden sand, palm trees and sugarcane plants. So many lovely photos slid past while she longed to be somewhere beneath that glinting sunshine, but not alone. Her mind replaced the faces in the photos. All the pictures of Lexie and Ethan grinning at the camera at dinner, walking the beach, sitting in an aerial tram surrounded by jungle became Ross and her. Kelsey released a shuddered breath and jerked her wayward thoughts back. “What I wouldn’t give for a trip like that.”

Ross rose and moved beside her, closer to the monitor. “It does make me envious.” He motioned to the lovely landscape photo. “Look at that sunlight. Now look out the window.” He crouched beside her, resting his hand on the chair arm and leaning closer to the photos.

Though she knew the view out the window, her gaze was drawn to the snow-covered shrubs and tree limbs in Lexie’s backyard. When she looked back, their eyes met. Blood pounded through her veins, a ridiculous reaction to looking at photos. She struggled to pull her gaze away and sought a new topic. “Are Lexie and Ethan going to stay in this house? I thought Ethan had a nice place, too.”

“He does, but I heard they’re thinking of Cooper. He loves it here, and for now, I think they’re staying with what’s familiar for him.”

“That’s really considerate.” And no surprise. That’s the kind of man Ethan was.

Ross looked thoughtful. “I’d do that, too, I think.”

Her stomach tightened. They both would, so where did that leave them? “We give a lot when our kids are sick.” She clicked off the photographs and leaned back in the chair.

He gazed at her. “And it’s not always easy, is it?” He pushed himself up, hands against his thighs and stretched. “Before we join the others, I wanted to check with you about Peyton’s birthday.” He resettled on the love seat. “Did you talk with Lucy?”

Something about his expression didn’t sit well with her. “She’s fine with it.” She guessed.

Ross’s problem. “What about Peyton? What does she want? It’s her birthday.”

He lowered his head and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands folded. “I did have to deal with a little attitude.”

The change of plans she’d anticipated. A blend of relief and disappointment swirled through her.

He raised his head, a slight grin on his lips. “But she ended the conversation by leaving it up to me.”

A similar situation with Lucy plodded into her mind. She rose. “I think we should drop it. It’s Peyton’s birthday, and it should be her decision.”

A frown conquered his faint grin. “No, please. Let me explain.” He patted the seat beside him.

Kelsey eyed the empty cushion, weighing her emotions. She felt safer in the chair, but he looked forlorn. The moment called for listening. She rolled the chair back to the desk, and sat beside him.

“Here’s the thing.” Ross caught her gaze. “Peyton often feels rejected by other kids. She’s missed a lot of school, and she doesn’t feel like part of her class most of the time. The kids aren’t mean or anything, but you know kids. The boys
are boys at that age, and the girls have their little cliques. Peyton doesn’t seem to fit into any of them.”

Her heart squeezed, remembering. “Lucy missed school, too, but she’s doing okay. It takes time, Ross. Encourage Peyton to be patient.”

“I tell her that, but she’s not willing to wait. She wants things when she wants them, and when they don’t happen, she rejects them. I’m afraid that’s what she’s done with the kids at school. I asked her teacher, and she said Peyton is rather standoffish.”

Kelsey pressed her lips together to hold back her comment. Her life revolved around helping people solve problems, and sometimes keeping her mouth closed was the best choice.

“I think that having a friend would help her, and since Lucy doesn’t go to Peyton’s school, it might work. Maybe they’ll click. Maybe—”

“And maybe not, Ross. Don’t count on anything when it comes to preteen girls. They’re at that almost-grown-up stage. Their hormones are raging, and you never know what you’ll get.” So much for keeping her mouth shut.

Ross studied her in silence. “You’re right.”

She relaxed her shoulders. “It’s hard not having a wife who’s gone through all the puberty stuff making it easier to talk with Peyton. Now it’s something you’ll have to do, I’m afraid.”

“I know. I dread it.”

She reached over and rested her hand on his. “Let’s do this. Make plans with her, and then let me know how she’s accepting the idea. Any thought about how you’ll celebrate?”

“She wants to have dinner at Benihana.” He angled his head. “Been there?”

“No, but I’ve heard of it. Lucy would enjoy it. All the knife tricks and watching the chefs cook. Plus she loves shrimp.”

“Then that settles it.”

His silly expression lightened their previous conversation,
but what he said hadn’t. Too many things were left unsettled. The more Kelsey thought about Lexie’s concern, the more real it became. She didn’t need reality. Kelsey longed for a bit of fantasy in her life.

Ross’s attention slid from the chef’s flashing knife to Lucy’s gleeful applause. Peyton had quieted as she sized up their guests. He had no idea what she had on her mind. The girls were opposites. Peyton’s dark hair, the color of his and usually tied back in a ponytail, today hung in curls around her shoulders. Lucy’s shorter blond waves bounced with her animation. She spoke well and directly, not afraid to show her enthusiasm while Peyton’s personality had slipped into a bottle with a tight cork. The situation disappointed him.

Peyton’s attitude didn’t help her relationship with Lucy, either. He overheard Lucy ask her mother why Peyton was so unfriendly. Ross slithered into silence, his frustration roping him in knots. Before he sank deeper, he refocused on the chef as he set out the sauces for the meat and shrimp.

Frustration turned to guilt. He’d noticed Peyton watching Lucy and her mother with longing written on her face. She missed her mom. She’d been six, and the loss had overwhelmed them both. How could he be a mother, too? He leaned closer to Peyton. “Did you like the soup and salad?”

She shrugged. “It was good.”

“Look there.” He motioned to the grill. “Here comes your favorite.”

She eyed the shrimp. “I like steak better.”

Pressing his lips closed, Ross gave up. When she was in a snit, nothing pleased her.

The chef stood over the scorching griddle, juggling his spatulas, flipping severed shrimp tails into his tall hat, then flicking a grilled shrimp onto Lucy’s plate. Her eyes as blue as her mother’s opened wide while she giggled and attempted
to pick up the shrimp with chopsticks. It fell, but she only laughed and tried again.

The chef glided past them, mounding the shrimp appetizer onto each attractive dish before he pulled out a knife the size of a machete and chopped and grilled zucchini and bean sprouts.

“Dad, why didn’t he flick a shrimp onto my plate?”

Ross’s heart constricted, hearing Peyton’s disappointed voice. “We’re not finished eating yet, sweetie, and Lucy is clapping and showing her appreciation. Maybe that’s why he picked her.”

“But it’s
my
birthday.” She lifted her shoulders up to her ears and let them fall.

His frustration and guilt multiplied. Despite her illness, Peyton had to learn that she still had to deal with people of all kinds. He’d tried to teach her that showing appreciation encouraged people to respond in a positive way. Sometimes he even cringed at her lack of gratitude when he went out of his way to show her his love in a special way. Weighted with helplessness, Ross wondered if Peyton would have been different if Ruthie had lived.