A Family Come True (24 page)

“And by the way,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze, “you are going to pay through the nose for keeping her a secret for so long, mister.”

Damn, he had missed this.

The laughter flowed more freely tonight than it had the previous evening. He told himself it was simply because Brynn was a people person, and Millie could out-chatter the most awkward silence, and everyone else—his folks, Darcy, Xander—were more familiar with each other. He hoped those were the reasons. He didn’t want it to be because last night everyone had been holding their collective breath at the sight of him and Carter at the same table.

But if it was, well, as he’d told Darcy, they needed time. Time and repetition. And maybe they could put Brynn in charge of reminding everyone to chill. He didn’t know about Carter, but he was the slightest bit terrified of that woman.

Darcy, however, seemed to have no problem with her. Every time he checked on her she was either tending to Cady or deep in conversation with Brynn, which didn’t do anything to his radar until Hank elbowed him.

“Heads up, Ian. Looks like my wife is plotting something with Darcy.”

He laughed away the twinge in his gut, peeked at Cady and felt the blood drain from his face when he saw that she had somehow got hold of a—

“Darce!” Ian jumped from his chair, ready to dive across the table if needed, but Darcy had already read his mind. She turned to Cady, paled and yanked the steak knife from Cady’s hand as it sliced the air far too close to Millie’s arm.

“Is she okay?”

“Mills, did you—”

Moxie’s voice rang out above the hubbub. “For the love of God, people. Calm down before you set the child crying.”

Cady, of course, was wailing in protest over losing her new toy. Darcy pulled her from the high chair and onto her lap, distracting her with a dancing spoon while she looked to Ian. The guilt in her face was unmistakable.

You okay?
he mouthed. She took a deep breath, cracked a tiny smile and nodded.

That’s my girl.

“Darcy,” Dad said from his end of the table. “You don’t remember this, of course, but once when you were not much older than that, your father brought you here and we took you kids outside to play. The twins were babies, so it was just you and Ian.” He shook his head. “Our first mistake was in thinking we could put a grill together while watching a couple of toddlers.”

Hank snickered.

“We were talking and hammering and trying to figure out the instructions, and then we looked up and you two had disappeared. We didn’t think you could have gone far, but neither of us was really sure when we’d last seen you. I think we set provincial speed records racing all over the backyard hunting for you.”

It was obvious there was a happy ending to this, so Ian had no problem laughing. Darcy listened with wide eyes, absently tugging Cady’s hands away from her earrings.

“It felt like forever, but really we found you pretty quick. You were in the shed we had back there, the one where we stored the lawn mowers and gardening tools.”

Ma jumped in. “The shed you were supposed to keep locked so the kids wouldn’t get into it.”

“Well, I did after that day, you can believe it.”

“What were we doing?” Ian wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know, but from the way his dad was laughing, he didn’t think it could have been anything too dangerous.

“Playing barber,” Moxie said.

Thank God it was barber, not doctor.

“You’d found the pruning shears.” Ma closed her eyes. “Half of Darcy’s hair was on the ground.”

Darcy made a small sound of surprise. “Wait. I remember... Not this, but my mother has one picture of me with this wild uneven haircut. Are you telling me it was Ian’s fault?”

“Nah. Ian didn’t do so bad, all things considered. The real problem came when Paul grabbed the shears himself and tried to make both sides match.”

The rest of the table burst into laughter. Darcy, he noticed, bit her lip and frowned.

“But...wait. My mother always told me I did that to myself. Something about wanting to look like the little girl next door.”

“Maybe it happened twice,” Brynn suggested. Moxie laughed along.

“Was there maybe a few pictures with the shaggy look, Darcy?”

“I... Maybe. I don’t remember. But that seems so, well, not like my dad.”

Moxie snorted. “Child, your father worshipped the ground your little moccasins danced on, but when it came to the practical parts of being a father...well, put it this way. I will go to my grave remembering the day he showed up here with you in a snowsuit and boots with fuzzy pink socks on your hands because he forgot to pack you any mittens.”

“Or the time you pranced in yelling ‘Party on, Wayne,’” Ma said. “And he had to confess you fell asleep in front of the TV and woke up just in time for
Saturday Night Live
—”

“And he let you stay up and watch the rest.” Dad’s eyes went from merry to melancholy in the space of a breath. Ian’s heart clenched at the sight. He’d always known that Dad and Paul Maguire had been buddies, but this was the first time it had really hit home.

Maybe because this was the first time he had been watching through Darcy’s eyes.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

W
HEN DINNER WAS
finished and the dishes done, when Hank and Brynn tore a protesting Millie away from Cady, Darcy handed Cady to Ian and slipped upstairs. Officially, she was setting up for Xander’s first bath-time lesson. Unofficially, if she didn’t get a minute alone she was going to start spinning.

It wasn’t just the fact that Xander had been beside Ian at dinner, meaning that every time she saw one, she saw the other. It wasn’t simply the plan she’d hatched with Taylor weighing on her conscience. It wasn’t even the cumulative effect of the five million changes that had happened since Tuesday afternoon.

No, this time she needed a few minutes alone to process Robert’s stories.

She gathered towels, laid out a fresh diaper and sleeper. She had loved hearing new tales about her dad. That was an unexpected bonus to this trip. But Robert’s stories were so different from those her mother told that it was as if they were about two different people.

All her life she had been told that her dad was a natural parent. Her own memories of him were filled with laughter and cuddles and, yeah, a few smacks on the behind. She certainly hadn’t been a perfect kid.

But Robert’s stories...

Not paying attention while she’d wandered off, she could understand. Kids moved fast. But chopping her hair with pruning shears to make it match on both sides? Forgetting mittens in the middle of a Canadian winter? Letting her watch an adult show at midnight?

None of it made sense.

On impulse she dropped the bath toys she’d been gathering and grabbed her phone. If luck was with her Sylvie would still be awake.

“Darcy.” Sylvie had that brisk tone to her voice that meant Matteo was far away. “I’m finishing up a quick drink with the producer.” Translation: she was talking business and didn’t want to be interrupted. “Can this wait until morning?”

Darcy almost did the good-girl thing and said sure, of course. But to heck with that. This was her whole life they were talking about.

“I know this will sound crazy, but please humor me. Robert told some stories tonight about Daddy, and they were...well...”

Sylvie sighed. “Give me a minute.”

Darcy heard her muttering something about
my daughter
and
time zones
. Nothing very compassionate, but on the other hand, Sylvie was excusing herself, so Darcy leaned against the headboard and gave thanks for small miracles.

“Darcy, I just walked away from something that sounded like the prelude to a position at the Old Vic. You have five minutes. If you can do it in less, that’s even better.

“Right. Sorry, but I... Robert told these stories, very funny, but they made Daddy sound so...well...incompetent. Like about that really whacked haircut when I was around three that you always said I did to myself.”

“Which is exactly what happened. I left for the theater one night with your hair in braids. The next time I saw you, it was all hacked off.”

“But Robert sounded so certain. Did it maybe happen more than once?”

“Darcy, we’re talking about something that happened almost thirty years ago.” Darcy could almost see Sylvie in her favorite red satin after-performance dress, drumming her fingers on the wall of whatever alcove she was hiding in. “What exactly did Robert say?”

“That Ian North did it. With pruning shears. And then Daddy finished the job.”

Stunned silence was followed by a peal of laughter. “And how much had dear Robert been drinking before he fed you this tale?”

“Nothing that I saw.”

“Poor man. I always thought he would turn into a closet alcoholic. Darcy, I am your mother. I know I wasn’t always the best one, but I was there, and I remember being in awe of your father’s abilities with you. He would never— Good Lord, pruning shears? No. Never happened.”

Lulu padded into the room, surveyed the bed and gave a mighty leap. Darcy didn’t have the energy to push her away.

“He never let me watch TV at midnight?”

“No.”

“Never put socks on my hands because he forgot mittens?”

This time there was no mistaking the edge to Sylvie’s sigh. “Darcy. Your father adored you. He would never have done anything to put you in jeopardy. He was a strict but fair parent, and you were blessed to have him, even if it was cut short. Now I really need to run.”

“Of course. Thanks, Mom. I do appreciate it.” She squeezed her eyes shut and sank her fingers into Lulu’s fur. “Love you.”

“Well, of course, and I love you, too. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Sylvie was the first one to end the call. Darcy stared into space and let her phone drop to the mattress.

“Call me paranoid, girl,” she said to Lulu, who sat up and tipped her head sideways. “But I grew up listening to her rehearsing and performing. And that laugh?” She shook her head. “Yeah. Pure and total acting.”

* * *

W
HAT WAS TAKING
Darcy so long?

Ian forced himself to stay downstairs talking to Ma about people he’d gone to school with and Uncle Lou’s latest antics while they chased Cady around the sunporch, but it was harder and harder to keep listening. Darcy had said she needed five or ten minutes, but it had been at least half an hour since she left. Xander was waiting outside—Ian could hear him talking to Dad—and Moxie had said something about taking a load off her feet. As far as he could tell Darcy was alone up there.

Maybe she’d had enough of his family and needed a break. He could understand that one. But for her to leave Cady for so long, especially with bedtime rapidly approaching, wasn’t like her.

Ten to one she’d fallen asleep. He could go up and check on her. Or he could let Lulu out, grab Cady, take her up and either hand her over for the promised lesson or get her settled for the night himself, come back down, bring Lulu back in and then head up for real. As far as he could see, he would end up doing all of it anyway. The only difference was how many trips he would have to make up and down the stairs.

Since rumor had it he might have some far better ways to use his energy tonight, he opted for plan B.

He gave Cady a kiss, told Ma he’d be back in a minute, found Lulu on the stairs and lured her through the kitchen to the back door. So far, so good.

Then he turned around and came face-to-face with Moxie.

“Just the person I wanted to see.”

“Sorry, Moxie. I’d love to stay and plot world domination with you, but I have to get Cady upstairs before she falls apart.”

“I know. But this’ll only take a minute.”

Which meant it would be a good ten or fifteen, but arguing would only prolong the torture. He pulled out a chair and sat at the worn kitchen table. “Okay. What’s up?”

Moxie opened the freezer and pulled out a carton of ice cream. “Don’t tell your Darcy, but I just talked to Helene. She was able to change her flights so’s she can be here on Sunday for the party.”

“She’s cutting her vacation short?”

“Eh. She had all the parts she wanted—the cruise, the glaciers, the polar bears. All she’s missing out on is the day in Seattle, and she said if she wants to see people toss fish through the air, she can just go down to the river during the carp derby.”

“Well, that’s great. Darcy will be, uh, surprised.”

“She’d better be a damn sight more than that.”

“Now, Moxie...”

She waved a spoonful of something fluorescent orange in his face. “Don’t you
Now, Moxie
me. Your girl is breaking my best friend’s heart. I don’t like it, and if I can help put a stop to it, you’re darn tootin’ I’m going to do it.”

“You ever hear of live and let live?”

“’Course I have. But let me tell you, it’s no kind of life when your last living family is turning her back on you.”

“Darcy isn’t—”

“Oh, I know she still talks to Helene. But it’s not like it was. Those two used to be so tight, and then it all changed.”

“And that couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the fact that Darcy is now a self-employed single mother.”

The spoon came perilously close to his knuckles. “Don’t be an ass. Of course we know how busy she is. Paul’s dad passed when he was just ten, so Helene knows all about being a mother alone. Besides, she said this started before Cadence was born.”

In truth, Ian had a decent idea what had caused Darcy to pull back from Helene. The trick would be spelling it out for Moxie without having his head ripped off.

“Darce has never come out and said anything,” he said slowly. “But from things she let slip, I get the impression that Helene wasn’t too happy about Darcy getting pregnant without getting married.”

“Huh.” Moxie shoveled in another bite of the ice cream, pulled out the spoon and gave it a thoughtful lick. “I’ll grant you, Helene and I are more old-fashioned about some things than other folks. And I know she was worried about Darcy going it alone. But to say outright disapproved... I don’t buy it. For one thing, Helene is the last person to tell someone else how to run their life.”